Free Doctor Who: Festival of Death: 50th Anniversary Edition by Jonathan Morris Page B

the others, but its ribcage was rising and falling. It was still alive.
    The corpse’s eyes snapped open, and drank in the Doctor, Romana and Evadne. The creature was humanoid, but had strange, frond-like rills around its neck. The Doctor couldn’t identify the species, but it appeared to be vegetable in constitution.
    ‘Gallura’s still alive. I do not believe it,’ said Evadne hoarsely.
    Gallura raised his head. ‘Doctor. At last.’
    ‘It is happening,’ said the birthsayer. ‘The birth of Gallura is now.’
    The birthsayers clustered around the carpel. There was a rasp of tearing fibre and the tube cleaved in two. With a final palpitation, the skin of the womb burst open and amniotic fluids gushed out into the sternum chamber. Encased in its glistening sac, the baby slowly slipped out of the mothertree’s stem and emerged into the proud embrace of the elders.
    ‘You know who I am?’
    ‘Of old, Doctor, of old,’ said Gallura. Every word seemed to be wrenched out of him, each exhalation a dying breath. ‘Listen. I can sense the approaching moment. I must ask something of you.’
    The Doctor shifted closer. ‘What is it?’
    ‘Go back, Doctor. You know your future is in your past. Go back in time and avenge my death.’
    Evadne and Romana watched the Doctor. He appeared to be half-fascinated and half-horrified by the sight before him.
    ‘Promise me you will go back,’ said Gallura. ‘Avenge the extinction of the Arboretans.’
    ‘I promise,’ said the Doctor. ‘I have no choice.’
    ‘You have a choice,’ croaked Gallura. ‘There always is a choice.’
    ‘Then I choose to go back. You have my word,’ whispered the Doctor.
    Gallura looked at the Doctor for what seemed a very long time. Then his head dropped back, and his eyelids rolled shut. The remaining air wheezed out of his lungs.
    The Doctor faced Romana. He looked confused, afraid. ‘He’s dead,’ the Doctor stated.
    The oldest birthsayer lifted the newborn clear of the folded remains of the birth sac. Supporting its head, she wiped away the fluids from its semitransparent skin, and wrapped it in a nutrient tuber.
    She presented the baby to Nyanna, who cradled it to her chest. The baby’s eyes were bright and inquisitive, and a delicate lattice of veins bulged from its forehead, flushed with fresh, green blood.
    ‘Gallura is born,’ said the birthsayer proudly.
    ‘Well. That’s that, then,’ said the Doctor.
    ‘I still can’t get my head round it. He managed to survive, in here.’ Evadne took one final glance at the three charred corpses.
    Romana followed Evadne to the ladder. ‘Where to now, Doctor?’ The Doctor raised one hand. ‘Evadne. Do you know the way to Corridor 79?’
    ‘Oh yeah,’ said Evadne. ‘It’s on one of the lower levels, not far.’
    ‘Right. First we collect K-9, and then we’ll go and see this hyperspatial interface. And then…’
    ‘And then?’ asked Romana.
    ‘By then I should have thought of something. Come on!’
    ‘This bit of the ship’s abandoned,’ explained Evadne. ‘No one’s come down here for years.’
    She led the way, the Doctor trudging behind. Romana was next, with K-9 bringing up the rear.
    It was yet another gloomy, derelict corridor, lined with closed doors and strewn with rubble. The wooden panelling and carpet had both rotted, and the air had the odour of an ancient cellar.
    ‘Tell me about this place. I’m fascinated,’ said the Doctor. ‘The history, and so on.’
    Evadne sighed. ‘Grief. You really want me to?’
    ‘Is it a problem?’
    ‘It’s just my job. Was my job. Regurgitating the same old guff. Answering the same imbecile tourist questions.’
    ‘Well, one more time?’ said the Doctor.
    ‘All right,’ shrugged Evadne. ‘You’re now standing on board the remains of the interplantary luxury cruiser
Cerberus
. Almost two hundred years ago, it was making a voyage between Teredekethon and Murgatroyd, care of this hyperspace tunnel.’ She broke off.