Mythical Creatures Scene 7: Cassiopeia
“Is this sunrise or sunset?” she asked. The sky was a soft purple, streaked with pink and orange clouds.
“Neither,” he said. “This atmosphere just happens to be that color, like Earth’s happens to be blue. It’s actually late morning.”
“I thought you said we were having breakfast.”
“Well, you can eat whatever you want, no matter what the clock says,” he shrugged. “It’s just that this is an agricultural world; morning is when the farmers do the most work. The town doesn’t really get moving until later here.”
“And where is here?”
“About two hundred thirty light years from Earth. The human settlers called it Cassiopeia, because it’s in that constellation. It orbits the star they called Shedar, or Alpha Cassiopeia, the breast of the seated queen. See, there it is behind us.” He turned around and pointed to the sky, and she was surprised to see a large orange sun just peeking over the top of the Tardis.
“Human settlers?” she repeated. “So we’re not just on another planet, we’re also in the future.”
“I thought it would be easier for you, to have your own people around you for your first trip among the stars.”
She looked at him, but he was looking away, down a hillside into a town that might have been built of marble. For the moment she didn’t care about the town, or even the planet.
“I’ve already got my favorite person in the universe right here,” she said.
He turned to her, and though he looked sad at first, he soon smiled and took her hand. “Come on,” he said, and began to run down the hill.
* * * * *
The town was built of marble, much of it in the style of ancient Greece. Flowered vines grew up out of patches of bare dirt between the buildings, snaking up columns, forming mats on roofs, and spilling over the sides. There was no grass as such, more like carpets of tiny broadleaf herbs. And there were trees, most of them in flower. The weather was a bit cooler than she was used to for this stage of vegetation, but it didn’t bother her because she’d taken a wool poncho from the wardrobe in the Tardis.
He took her to a restaurant, where she had an omelet full of vegetables she’d never seen before, with a cheese that sort of resembled feta; even the egg tasted different.
“It’s from a local reptile,” he explained.
“A reptile? Not a bird?”
“No birds here. That particular offshoot never developed. The settlers here learned from the mistake of Australia and didn’t bring any foreign life except themselves. I could show you a farm, if you like.”
She did like. Actually, it was more of a petting zoo for children, where they let her stroke the warm-blooded lizards they kept for eggs and the creatures like miniature yaks they got the milk from.
After that, they went for a long walk in a public garden, much of which was enclosed in greenhouses. He chattered non-stop about the trees, herbs, vines, and flowers as well as the tiny lizards flitting from tree to tree. She found that she didn’t care so much about the details as she did about how he enjoyed sharing them. Only rarely did she ask any questions; mostly she let him lead her around by the hand and say what he would.
They had a picnic there in the gardens, in a section that was truly outdoors. He was still talking in between bites, until something small and furry began to approach them, taking only a few steps at a time, then pausing to assess them before doing it again. Then he fell silent, cautioning her to be still, and reached toward it, holding the local equivalent of a chip.
As it got closer, she saw that it looked a lot like a sloth, but was only the size of a squirrel. It crept forward, snatched the chip out of the Doctor’s hand, and dashed back a few feet before eating it. She watched in wonder as it nibbled away. Then the Doctor nudged her arm; he had a huge grin on his face and was trying to hand her a chip. She took it and offered it to the creature when it had finished the first one. Slowly it moved toward her and grabbed the chip. She was trying very hard not to laugh and scare it away, when a new sound startled all three of them. It was almost exactly like a horse’s neigh.
The sloth scurried away, and Letitia hurriedly glanced around for the source of the sound. At the other end of the green was a path, where there stood a graceful white beast hitched to an open carriage. She got to her feet and began to walk slowly toward it. The Doctor watched her with half an eye as he gathered up the remnants of their picnic and took them to a trash receptacle.
She gasped as the animal flexed its wings. A winged horse! Not feathered wings like the Pegasus of stories, but a bat’s wings. She glanced at the driver sitting in the carriage before continuing toward it.
“He’s very friendly,” the man assured her. “Go ahead and pet him.”
She smiled nervously and stepped toward the horse. It wasn’t exactly a horse; it had a narrower muzzle, longer ears, and cloven hooves, and its tail had a thick tuft at the end instead of long hair growing from the base. She offered it her hand to sniff, then began to stroke its head and neck.
“Come on over, sir!” the driver called. “Take your lovely lady for a ride! I guarantee you won’t find a more romantic way to spend the evening.”
Letitia’s heart leapt. “Could we?” she asked, turning to the Doctor. He smiled and motioned her inside.“Make sure to buckle up,” the driver instructed them. “Take-off can be a little rough.”
He meant it; Letitia squealed as the horse began to gallop forward, and then to beat its wings. As they lifted off the ground, she tried to press her hands against the seat to steady herself, but on the left side she got the Doctor’s leg instead.
“Sorry,” she gasped, though she didn’t pull away.
“I don’t mind,” he said. It wasn’t entirely true – she was pressing hard enough to hurt – but he didn’t want her to think he minded her touch. So instead, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, then took her hand in his own. She looked at him for a moment (was that gratitude on her face?), then turned away quickly as the horse picked up speed and made a tight circle around the park.
She was very close, sometimes brushing against him when the carriage turned, but he didn’t need to suppress his reactions yet. This was a different kind of excitement: the sharing of an external experience. They were laughing together as the wind whistled through their hair and gripping the sides of the carriage as it made sharp turns.
But sharing an experience can draw people together; it was something the driver knew well. He had not targeted this couple simply because the woman was fascinated by the horse; he’d had his eye on them even before that. He had a lot of experience in studying couples, watching them in the park, and he could tell that these two both wanted to take their relationship further and were waiting for the other to say so. It wasn’t the kind of thing an outside observer could point out verbally, but he could make them see it by putting them through false danger together.
He glanced back at them occasionally in the rear-view mirror, which no rider had ever discovered was set that way. When they looked comfortable holding onto each other, he slowed the horse and swept over beautiful scenery. When they were no longer watching the scenery but had become engrossed in each other, it was time to return to the park – not too quickly, of course – and to land.
Scene Selection
1. The Earth Line 6. Three Days 2. Based on a True Story 7. Cassiopeia 3. Tempus Vivat 8. Connection 4. Green Light 9. No Happy Endings 5. Reunion Commentary