The Sontaran and the Draconian stared at her in utter amazement.
The Commandant and his officers stared too.
With grunts of surprise, the Ogron guards raised their blasters, covering her.
Ignoring them, Peri went and stood before the desk, where she had stood with her two companions before. It seemed a very long time ago.
'What are you doing here?' demanded the Draconian. 'Who are you?'
'Perpugilliam Brown - Peri. The one your Supremo apparently wants found.'
'Nonsense,' snapped the Sontaran. He swung round on the Draconian. 'This cannot be the one we seek.'
'Indeed? Why not?'
'This specimen is a human female. The hair is finer, the thorax of a different construction - '
'So?' interrupted the Draconian. 'You merely assume that the person we seek is male. It is impossible to tell from the barbarous human name.'
'The Peri we seek is a famous guerrilla leader. No female - '
The Draconian sighed. 'I admit it could not happen on Draconia. Nor, since your species has no females, could it occur on Sontara. But the customs of the humans are as mystifying as their names, and it is quite possible - '
Peri interrupted the wrangle. 'I tell you I'm Perpugilliam Brown.' She nodded towards the Commandant. 'Ask him!'
'Well?' asked the Draconian. 'Can you confirm this claim?'
The Commandant shrugged. 'I know only that the leader of the guerrilla band was called Peri - and the two other captured guerillas acknowledged this one as their leader.'
'Let them be found and interrogated,' said the Sontaran.
'They're both dead,' said Peri briefly. 'Why does this Supremo of yours want to see me anyway?'
The Sontaran looked shocked. 'We do not question his orders, we obey them.' He gave the Draconian a baffled look. 'What must we do, High Commander Aril?'
The Draconian rose gracefully. 'I shall take the human female to the Supremo, Battle-Major Streg. He will decide. You will remain and see to the securing of the base.' He turned to Peri and said diffidently. 'There are signs of bruising on your auricular appendage. Somebody struck you?'
'Just a clip round the ear, nothing serious.'
'It appears that you are of some concern to the Supremo. If you have been mistreated he will be displeased.' He pointed a long finger at the Commandant. 'Was this man responsible? Do you wish him executed?'
'No, he treated me pretty well. He was going to shoot me, mind you but only in the line of duty. Lieutenant Hakon, one of his officers did the damage.'
The Draconian nodded to the Sontaran. 'Find this Lieutenant Hakon and shoot him.'
'Immediately, High Commander.'
'No need,' said Peri. 'I attended to the matter myself.'
'Very well. If you will be kind enough to accompany me, Lady Peri? Arrange transport, Battle-Major. Staff- shuttle, Priority One.'
Leaving Streg barking orders into his wrist-com, he ushered Peri from the room.
Outside the main entrance, a gleaming silver sphere awaited them, its side emblazoned with a giant golden 'A'. Ogron sentries saluted as the Draconian escorted Peri up the ramp.
She was shown into a luxuriously-furnished circular cabin, with one long windows running around it.
'Please, be seated Lady Peri,' said the Draconian, and Peri sank gratefully into the cushioned bench beneath the windows. He bowed. 'Allow me to introduce myself. I am High Commander Aril of the Alliance Battlefleet. You permit me to be seated?'
Peri nodded and he sank gracefully down beside her.
The spacecraft took off, so smoothly that it was scarcely noticeable.
'May I offer you refreshment?'
He touched a hidden control and a uniformed steward appeared with a silver tray. He pulled a table from the wall between Peri and Aril, placed the tray upon it, bowed and disappeared.
The tray held a decanter, crystal goblets and a variety of snacks - biscuits, pastries, preserved meats and fishes, cheeses, and other things Peri didn't recognise.
Aril poured wine for them both. It was cool and white, faintly lemony. Peri drained her glass, realising she was both thirsty and starving.
She surveyed the tray and Aril offered her a platter of what looked like crystallised grasshoppers.
'Try these, my lady. A delicacy from my own planet.'
'Later perhaps. I think I'll start with a biscuit and some of that cheese.'
Aril served her, and helped himself to a platter of grasshoppers.
Peri ate and drank, trying not to look too greedy. When she'd finished, she leaned wearily against the cushions.
It had been a long and eventful night, and the constant sudden changes in her status - guerrilla, condemned prisoner, and now, it seemed, some kind of VIP - had left her tired and confused.
She looked out of the window and saw the darkened countryside below her. Here and there was the glow of burning buildings and the flash of laser-cannon.
'The planet will soon be in our hands,' said Aril.
'You're very confident.'
'The Supremo himself drew up the assault plans. He does not fail. More wine, my lady?' He refilled her goblet.
'What's all this my lady stuff?' said Peri. 'Why am I suddenly so important?'
Aril looked surprised. 'It appears that you are of great concern to the Supremo, my lady. He has made constant efforts to find you. Anything that concerns our great leader is of supreme importance to us all.'
He must be some leader, thought Peri sleepily. Someone who could weld Draconians, Sontarans and Ogrons into a fighting force and ruthlessly recapture an occupied planet in a single night. Someone so impressive that a senior Draconian officer hurried to fulfil his every whim, so powerful that the merest hint of his interest invested her with a kind of nobility.
A vision formed in her mind of a military giant, a tall square-jawed superman, with bristling brows and an impressive military moustache.
She drifted into sleep...
****
Peri awoke from a nightmare in which she kept killing Lieutenant Hakon and he refused to die to find High Commander Aril deferentially tapping her shoulder.
'We have arrived, my lady.'
Peri yawned and stretched, and rubbed her eyes. She looked out of the window and gasped. They were approaching the biggest space ship she had ever seen, a towering castle of steel, bristling with weaponry and signal antennae.
'The flagship of the Alliance Battle Fleet,' said Aril proudly. ' It is the Supremo's personal transport.'
'It's a nice little runabout,' said Peri, and Aril looked at her in blank incomprehension.
The little spacecraft headed straight for the huge gleaming tower. A docking slot opened and they slid smoothly inside. They left the spacecraft for an enormous hangar, where technicians scurried to and fro, rose endlessly in a lift, and emerged into a broad carpeted corridor that might have been part of some luxury hotel. A handsome young officer in a white and gold dress uniform was waiting to greet them. He came to attention and saluted - it was the flat hand, palm-outward army salute Peri remembered from Earth.
Aril returned the salute. 'This is Ensign Vidal, one of the Supremo's aides. I leave you in his capable hands. I must return to my duties.'
Peri realised she was going to miss Aril.
She hadn't, she realised, encountered much kindness recently. Maybe that's why she felt some kind of bond with Aril.
'Thank you for everything,' she said. 'You've been very kind.'
Aril bowed formally. 'My life at your command.' He turned and strode away.
Peri looked at Ensign Vidal. 'All right, then. Take me to your leader.'
Ensign Vidal looked shocked. 'The Supremo is presently in conference. He will see you when he is at liberty.'
'When will that be?'
'When the Supremo decides. Probably not for some while.' He looked at her disapprovingly. 'No doubt you would like to use the time available to make yourself more presentable.'
It was some time since Peri had given much thought to her appearance, and she suddenly realised how she must look. Thin - or at least thinner than she had been - brown skinned, and grimy. Arms and legs scarred with snake and insect bites. Clothes, bush shirt, safari jacket and shorts, all tattered and worn. Hair, a tangled mop.
'Guerrilla chic,' she thought wryly. 'Perhaps the look will catch on.'
She stared resentfully at the immaculate young officer. 'I'm afraid these are all the clothes I have. Jungle warfare doesn't leave much time for fashion. A bath might help, I clean up quite nicely.'
'Of course. If you will follow me?'
He led her along the corridor, turned off into a smaller one, and opened a door to reveal a magnificently furnished sitting room. Silk drapes, thick carpets, deep soft chairs, ornamental tables gave it an air of oriental luxury. An open door revealed a bedroom with canopied bed, furnished in a similarly opulent style.
'This is the Supremo's guest suite,' said Vidal. He led her to the door of the bedroom, indicating a further door beyond. 'There is a bathroom and all the usual conveniences,' he said, blushing a little. 'The wardrobes and dressing tables contain a selection of garments.'
'Very efficient,' said Peri. 'Does your Supremo often entertain female guests?'
Vidal gave her a shocked look and ignored the question.
'Drinks and other refreshments are available in the bedside cabinet,' he said stiffly. 'I will return to fetch you in due course.' He bowed and left.
Peri went into the bathroom where a wall-length mirror confirmed her worst fears. Fiddling with unfamiliar controls, she managed to fill the bath with warm, scented water and enjoyed a long luxurious soak. Wrapped in a long silk robe she explored the bedroom and found that it held a selection of clothes in every imaginable style.
The Supremo, she thought, had things very well organised.
When Ensign Vidal returned he found Peri stretched out on a divan, sipping a glass of green Arcturan wine. She wore a white silk gown with matching bolero jacket, and her hair was brushed smoothly back, secured in a chignon with a black velvet ribbon.
Ensign Vidal surveyed her with approval. 'Better. Much better. Now, come with me.'
It occurred to Peri that he showed none of the reverence accorded her by High Commander Aril. But then, as the Supremo's aide, he was close to the source of ultimate power.
As he led her along luxuriously carpeted corridors, Vidal said, 'The Supremo's conference is over-running a little, but we hope that it will soon draw to an end. Then he will see you.'
Feeling suddenly stroppy, Peri came to a halt. 'Look, if the conference isn't over yet, why don't I wait in comfort in the guest suite? The you can fetch me when the Supremo's free?'
Ensign Vidal stopped as well, looking at her in blank incomprehension.
'But then the Supremo would have to wait!'
Which was clearly unthinkable.
Vidal continued along the corridor. Mutinously, Peri followed.
He led her, by a circuitous route, to a small door at the end of a narrow corridor. The door was guarded by two Ogron sentries armed with the usual massive blaster-rifles. At the sight of Ensign Vidal they came clumsily to attention, making a rudimentary attempt at presenting arms.
Vidal looked at them and sighed. The door opened and he ushered Peri into a brightly-lit dressing room.
'Why the Supremo insists on using those clumsy apes, when every sentient life form in the galaxy would be proud to serve in his personal bodyguard - ' muttered Vidal. He broke off, realising perhaps, thought Peri, that he had come perilously close to criticising the Supremo.
He indicated a small open door on the far side of the little room. Putting his lips to her ear he whispered, 'We are at the rear of the conference chamber. Look through that door and you will see him!'
Peri went over to the door and looked out. It was like being backstage in the biggest theatre in the world.
She was standing directly behind a lean, medium-sized, black-uniformed figure on a raised podium. (So much for her military giant, thought Peri.) The uniform was both simple and ornate with gold epaulettes, and gold braid at collar and cuffs. Beyond was an enormous circular chamber, about the size of a baseball stadium. Row upon row of tiered seats rose into the distance. The seats were occupied by an amazingly diverse crowd of unformed officers. Every sentient species in the galaxy seemed to represented. Draconians, Sontarans and Ogrons like the ones she'd already met, predominated, but there were many other species Peri was unable to identify, together with an amazing variety of humans and humanoids.
The whole extraordinary assembly was dominated by the black-clad figure of the Supremo. He was speaking, in a voice Peri found at once familiar and strange.
It was a quiet, calm voice, yet it crackled with authority. Every word, every syllable was icily distinct. The vast, inter-species audience listened in utter silence.
'So, to conclude,' said the Supremo. 'The next stage of our plan is complete. The planet of Sylvana has been wrested from the Enemy's grasp.'
A cheer erupted from the audience.
The Supremo held up his hand, and absolute silence fell once more.
'Do not be too quick to congratulate yourselves. Parts of the operation ran smoothly. Others were little more than a total shambles, succeeding only because the enemy exceeded us in inefficiency. We were lucky. We cannot depend on luck.' He paused. 'The problem, as always, lies in faulty inter-species co-operation and communication. Let me remind you, I hope for the last time, that you are no longer Draconians, Sontarans, Cybermen or anything else. Until this conflict is concluded, and the enemy finally defeated, you are all soldiers of the Alliance. After that, you can return to cutting each others throats with my good will.' With terrifying suddenness, his voice rose to an angry shout. 'By the beard of Rassilon! If you cannot do better than this, I'll pack you all off home and defeat the enemy with an army of Ogrons. They, at least, know how to obey orders.'
A stunned silence fell. Peri saw a group of Ogrons in the front row beaming and slapping each other on the back.
She turned to Vidal who was standing close behind her.
'Not entering any popularity contests, is he?'
'Don't you believe it,' whispered Vidal. 'The more he abuses them, the more they love him. That was the stick. Now comes the carrot.'
'However, gentlemen,' said the Supremo. 'Despite your occasional failings - and because of your courage, hard work, and military skill - victory is ours! I congratulate you - and I thank you.'
There was another moment of silence as the audience took in what he had said. Then they came to their feet with a roar of,' Supremo! Supremo! Supremo! ' that shook the hall.
The Supremo nodded briefly, then turned and strode from the podium.
Vidal ran to a closet, emerging with a silken robe.
Peri stepped back as the Supremo marched into the dressing room, ripping open the high collar of his jacket. It had, Peri could see now, a gold S embroidered over the heart. He stopped dead at the sight of Peri.
Vidal came forward with the robe. The Supremo took it from him and waved him towards the door.
Vidal bowed and retreated.
Peri stared in fascination at the man before her, so familiar and yet so utterly different. In the harsh glare of the dressing-room lighting, the body was stiff and erect, the face harsh and closed. The fair hair was clipped short, the skin seemed darker, the eyes were burning with energy.
'Hello, Peri,' said the Supremo. 'Nice to see you again.'
