Disclaimer: "Doctor Who" is the property of the BBC; no infringement is intended.
Special thanks are due, as always, to SonicJules for unwavering encouragement and beta assistance.
She stood on a grassy hill looking down at the small, walled city below. It was lovely, with delicate, pastel hues coloring the homes and businesses. The climate felt rather Mediterranean to her, and she could see the expanse of turquoise sea some miles beyond the city.
"'S really beautiful," Rose commented, voicing her thoughts as the Doctor climbed the hill to stand beside her.
"Yes, it is. Haven't been here in ages—eons, probably," he mused.
"Are we goin' down there?" She gestured toward the city.
"Yep. That's were the shops are, and that's where the q'ranium'll be."
"Never heard of that before."
"No, you wouldn't have. It's not on most of the intergalactic periodic tables. But it occurs naturally here, and in abundance, much like copper on Earth. It's used in all sorts of things: pipes, wires—"
"So this is a modern civilization, yeah?"
"Depends how you define 'modern,'" he replied with a little grin. "A man from the Stone Age would have found a Bronze Age fellow positively avant-garde, but the Romans would've snorted at some of the ideas widely accepted during the Dark Ages."
Rose nodded. "Right. So are these folks more medieval or Renaissance or what?"
"Oh, they're much more technologically advanced than that. I'd place them at about an equivalent of early twentieth-century Earth. They've got electricity, running water, good agricultural methods. They've got physicists, but they aren't much smarter than Einstein. Ooh, we should pop in and say hello to Albie some time. You'd like him, Rose. Great sense of humor—"
"Einstein?" Rose shook her head. "Don't think he'd be very interested in talkin' with me."
The Doctor looked at her curiously. "Why not?"
"Physics isn't exactly my best subject."
"Oh, he wouldn't care at all. He'd just enjoy your energy and smile."
"Yeah?"
The Time Lord reached for her hand. "Yeah. So what do you say we have a look at those markets?"
"Sounds good." She threaded her fingers through his as they made their way down the hill.
About half-way to the city, a road veered off to the right. Rose paused for a moment to look off at the grand complex stretching out at the end of the road some distance away. She could see gold domes glittering in the sunlight.
"What's that?" she asked. "The capital or somethin'?"
"Something like that," the Doctor replied. "That's the royal palace on the left," his hand swept over the view, "and the chancellery buildings on the right."
"Pretty posh," she commented.
"Palaces usually are," he confirmed.
"So they've got a king… or a queen."
"Yep. I think right now the ruler is Ucana III."
"Queen?"
"King. And his son'll be Ucana IV, taking over the throne in about thirty years."
"So it's a monarchy."
"Constitutional monarchy, actually. The people elect a chancellery—a group of representatives who have equal say with the king in government processes. It resembles the British system, but the king has somewhat more power, rather like the American president or Canadian prime minister."
"The systems seem pretty similar nearly everywhere we go."
He arched an eyebrow at her. "You've noticed that?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
"Observant, you are." He shifted his gaze to the shimmering rooftops in the distance. "The palace is famous for its architecture. Feel like a little side trip?"
Always enthusiastic to enjoy a new sight, Rose replied, "Sure!"
The Doctor took her hand again as they strolled along the new road.
The walk to the palace was much longer than Rose had anticipated. However, the weather was pleasant—neither too hot not too cold—and pretty flowering plants lined the hillside. She enjoyed the Doctor's constant chatter, too, as he described everything from the local flora to the design elements of some weird alien ship that ran on garbage.
The landscape had remained pristine for much of their walk. As the neared the palace, though, small buildings scattered before them.
"A lot of the staff live out here," the Time Lord explained. "City's a bit too far away for an easy commute at the moment. In twenty years or so they'll have widespread motorized transportation, of course, so travel'll become much faster."
"You've been here in the future, then?" Rose asked.
He nodded. "Couple of times. Once about fifty years from now, and another about five hundred years in the future."
"S'pose it'll change a lot."
"Well, in some ways, but these people are going to retain their general culture for a long time. Matter of fact, the Ucana line'll last well into the next four centuries."
A narrow road led from the homes toward the palace grounds. Rose watched as a small figure made its way along the path. After a minute or so she could see that it was a child, probably no more than six or seven years old. She thought he was moving rather slowly.
"Who d'you suppose that it?" she asked, pointing.
The Doctor squinted. "Hmm, not the prince; he's got red hair—all the Ucanas do."
"What's he doing out here all alone?"
"Oh, he should be perfectly safe—"
With those words, the child abruptly stumbled and fell to his knees. Rose hurried forward, the Doctor close at her heels.
"Hey," she called as she neared the boy, "are you all right?"
The child seemed to struggle in his efforts to regain his feet. By the time she'd reached him, he'd managed to stand, but his stance was shaky. She could see that he was very pale; his face was almost grey, and dark circles bruised the soft skin beneath his eyes.
It seemed he hadn't heard Rose, because when she spoke again he lifted his head and blinked at her.
She was only a few feet away from him now. "D'you need help?" she asked.
He opened his mouth, then his legs shook violently, toppling him toward the ground once more. However, before his little body could hit the soft earth, the Doctor had swooped in with considerable alacrity to lift the child into his arms.
Rose saw an expression of tender concern upon the Time Lord's face. He spoke gently to the child, asking where he lived. The boy nodded toward a pale yellow house.
"There," he croaked.
"All right," the Doctor said cheerfully, "let's get you home."
His strides were long and swift, and Rose had to hurry to keep up with him. He reached the house quickly, and she scurried up to knock at the door. A woman answered, balancing a toddler against her hip.
"Raben!" she exclaimed, her hand immediately resting over his head. "What's happened?" She addressed her question to the Doctor.
However, the child answered in a small, raspy voice. "I was playing with him, but I didn't feel good, so they sent me home."
"He fell on the road," Rose added.
The woman's hand moved down to press over her son's brow. "Goodness." Then she looked back up at the Doctor. "Thank you for bringing him home."
With a brief nod, the Time Lord replied, "I think this young man needs to get to bed."
"Yes, this way, please." His mother stepped back, permitting the guests to enter the tidy home then leading the way to the boy's room.
The Doctor set Raben upon the bed, and his mother settled a quilt over him. Again she brushed her hand over his forehead. "He's got a fever."
"Yes." The Doctor rested the back of his hand against the child's cheek for a moment then ran his fingertips beneath the boy's jaw.
Rose could see his concern in the tightening of his brow. "Doctor?" she inquired softly.
Raben's mother studied her visitors intently for a few seconds. "Doctor?" she repeated.
The subject of inquiry brightened a bit and offered her a smile. "Yep, that's me. And this is Rose."
"I'm Ilaine. This is Raben. Thank you for bringing him home. He's never been ill before, and he seemed fine this morning…"
The Doctor leaned in to look the child directly in the eye. "When did you begin feeling sick?" he asked.
Raben shrugged softly, his eyes moving toward the ceiling. "A little while ago."
"When you were playing with your friend?"
The child nodded.
"What were you playing?" the Doctor asked.
"Quippity Quep."
"Oh!" The Doctor grinned. "One of my favorite games! I imagine you didn't want to stop playing."
Raben shook his head. "Uh uh. It's his favorite, too, and mine. We play it every time I visit."
"I see," the Doctor said. "Well, if I knew I was going to spend a day playing Quippity Quep, I'm sure I'd want to go over to my friend's house, too, even if I was feeling a bit peaky in the morning."
Raben nodded. "Me too."
The Doctor and Ilaine exchanged knowing looks. Then she said, "Dearheart, tell me the truth. Did you feel a little sick this morning?"
"Just a little," he admitted.
"How did you feel?" the Doctor inquired. He'd taken the child's wrist gently to press his fingers over the pulse point.
"Maybe…maybe kinda dizzy. And my head hurt a little too, but just a little."
"And how does it feel now?" he asked.
"Hurts more."
The Doctor smiled sympathetically, moving his hand to rest it over Raben's chest. "You felt dizzy walking home, didn't you?"
The boy nodded.
"Do your legs hurt?"
Raben shook his head gingerly. "Uh uh. But they feel kinda funny."
"Bit like jelly?" the Doctor asked.
The child almost laughed. "Yeah, jelly."
The Time Lord quirked an eyebrow. "Grape or cherry?"
"That's hardly important," Ilaine began.
"On the contrary," the Time Lord said with mock seriousness, "it's quite important. So which is it?"
"Cherry," replied Raben somberly.
"Ah, cherry. Yes," the Doctor said quite earnestly, "cherry jelly legs. Well, that tells me quite a lot. Now how about your arms?"
Raben shook his head. "They don't feel like jelly, but… they hurt a little."
The Doctor slid up the child's right sleeve to reveal pale skin peppered with several coin-sized crimson welts. Ilaine gasped softly, and the Doctor lifted his head quickly to look at Rose.
"Go and get him a glass of water," he said calmly.
His tone of voice concerned her, though; it was almost too composed. His expression was very grave.
"Doctor? What is it?" she asked.
"Just go, Rose," he replied. Then he turned his attention back to the boy, a reassuring smile returning to his face as he moved the child's pants leg up to inspect his ankles and calves.
As Rose stepped from the room, she caught a glance of the deeply colored welts covering Raben's legs. She found the kitchen easily and filled a glass from the tap. She was just a few steps away from the bedroom when the Doctor swept from the room, closing the door behind himself.
"Here's the water," she said.
He took her arm and led her outside without a word. She blinked in the late-afternoon sunshine. "Doctor, what's goin' on?"
"You have to stay away from him," he replied.
"It's contagious?"
"Very. Well, usually it requires direct contact, but I don't want to risk it, so you need to remain out here. Actually, you should probably return to the TARDIS—"
"That doesn't answer my question," she interjected. "What's the matter with him?"
The Doctor sighed, running a hand through his hair absently. "Looks like Erythrocaeleia. It's similar to diphtheria, but this strain affects the skin, too."
"How bad is it?"
He looked at her, and the deep sadness in his eyes told her everything. "It's very serious for him."
"But you can help him, right? I mean you've got all sorts of medicines in the TARDIS—"
"I do, and given time I could probably—almost certainly—create the proper drug to combat this."
"So what're you waitin' for? Let's go get the TARDIS, an' you can begin right away."
She had already turned to go, but he wrapped his hand around her arm. "Rose, wait."
She spun back to stare at him in surprise. "What for?"
"We need to find out how widespread the outbreak is. Sometimes these strains can mutate, so I need to evaluate a representative sample of those affected. If it's only Raben—"
"Can't be. He had to've got it from someone, right?"
"Not necessarily. His mother recognized the disease right away. It's reared its ugly head here before, probably half a dozen times over the years. Her mother had it as a child and told her about it. It killed her aunt… Anyway, it's possible for these things to remain dormant until conditions are precisely right for them to develop again. That may well be the case here."
"Is Ilaine gonna to get it?"
"No, actually. That's the interesting thing about this disease. Well, I say interesting; I mean from a scientific standpoint, of course. Survivors develop a natural immunity, and they pass it on to the next generation. But it seems to stop there. It actually causes a genetic mutation, but it's a weak one that isn't sustained for more than a single generation. So most of the adults should be safe."
"How 'bout you?"
"Oh," he grinned for just an instant, "I'm not in the least susceptible to any human diseases. Good thing, too, since I've been in the midst of bubonic plague and the Black Death at least four times." His expression darkened at the memory. "But that's a story for another time."
"I'm pretty sure I was vaccinated against diphtheria," Rose said, trying to recall exactly what her mother had told her. "So I shouldn't be able to catch it, either."
The Doctor shook his head. "Not true, Rose. I said it's similar to diphtheria, not exactly the same. Your immune response is most likely insufficient to fight it off."
She sighed in disappointment. "I could've helped," she said.
He squeezed her shoulder gently. "I know you've have liked to. But the best place for you right now is the TARDIS. I'll take care of this."
Ilaine opened the door and called to them. The Doctor hurried back toward the house; Rose followed a few paces behind, stopping just shy of the doorway.
"—need to tell you something," the woman was saying. She looked pale, and her eyes were wide.
"Has he gotten worse?" the Doctor asked.
Ilaine shook her head. "No. But Doctor, his father… he's one of the Royal Sentries."
"Yes?"
"He works at the palace," she continued. "That's how they met—the boys, I mean. One day my husband forgot his lunch, and I sent Raben to the gates with his basket, and Cani was there, out for a stroll with his governess. Raben waved to him, and poor little Cani has no brothers or sisters, so he was delighted to see another child. And they became friends. They meet at least once a week to play—"
"All right, so another child may be infected."
Ilaine nodded slowly and took a deep breath. "Yes. Cani."
"I'm sorry. Should I know that name?"
Ilaine exhaled. "Doctor, Cani is his nickname; it's short for Ucana."
The Time Lord blinked in surprise. "Cani is the Prince?"
"Yes. You didn't know that?"
"We're visitors; we've come from far away," the Doctor replied.
Further questions were delayed by the arrival of Raben's father, accompanied by two other uniformed Sentries. Things happened very quickly then. Ilaine immediately told her husband, Marden, that their son was sick. Marden informed his wife that the Prince had fallen ill, too. The court physician had made a swift diagnosis; the disease was well-known and well-dreaded.
The King had ordered that Raben and his baby brother, Wess, be brought to the palace in order to isolate them from other potential victims; there was still hope that the illness would not spread as rapidly as it had during past outbreaks. The two Sentries rapidly moved through the village, questioning each family to determine whether anyone else was sick.
Ilaine made a quick introduction of the visitors, informing her husband that the Doctor had been helpful in caring for the boy, as well as knowledgeable about the disease. It came as no surprise that the Time Lord was asked to return to the palace to offer his services. Naturally he accepted.
He was less pleased, however, when Rose was compelled to accompany him. His request to permit her to leave the village and remove herself from possible infection fell upon deaf ears. The fact that she carried no natural immunity and had been exposed —albeit indirectly—was sufficient to oblige her to enter into quarantine.
Within thirty minutes, Raben and his brother lay in the arms of their parents as they traveled to the palace. Five other village children and their mothers joined the small procession, along with Rose and the Doctor. The Sentries surrounded the little group, and it was clear to all that the trip was obligatory.
To be continued…