1

It was typical. The Doctor promised me champagne and cake, and instead I got flying lizards.

‘Pterodactylus antiquus, to be precise,’ he told me, ducking as one of the creatures in question swooped low over his head. It was such a close call that the rush of air ruffled the springy curls of his hair. ‘Or perhaps Pterodactylus extra-smallus would be a better name, since I don’t recall them being quite so pocket-sized during my last Late Jurassic trip.’

That wasn’t how I would have described them, but maybe it depended on the size of your pockets. These beasts were about as big as pigeons, and the only upside so far was that they seemed to be leaving us alone. I couldn’t say the same for the terrified pedestrians around us, though. We’d only arrived on Koturia minutes ago, leaving the TARDIS in a small alley tucked between two obnoxiously coloured buildings on a busy street. We’d heard the screams as soon as we stepped out of the door and had been met with pretty much the last scene that came to mind when I thought of weddings. Bachelor parties? Perhaps. Weddings? Definitely not.

‘Maybe they’re babies,’ I said, cringing against a hot-pink building decorated with silvery lattice-work. I was trying to keep out of the way, both of the pterodactyls and of the panicked people heedlessly shoving others aside in an effort to escape. The creatures were homing in specifically on the Koturians, attacking them with sharp claws and beaks that drew blood and tore skin with each strike. Across the street, I saw several of the pterodactyls gang up on a woman and actually try to carry her away. She was saved at the last moment when a hysterical man accidentally ran into her, disrupting the attack.

‘I don’t think so.’ The Doctor was annoyingly calm, oblivious to the frenzy around him as he squinted up at the winged menaces. ‘These are some kind of specially modified breed, nothing natural. You can tell by that gold sheen on their wing membrane. No earthly pterodactyl had that. Can’t you see it?’

Mostly all I could see was that it would be very easy for those talons to turn on us at any moment.

Small lines of thought appeared on the Doctor’s forehead. ‘This isn’t the first time I’ve seen something like this,’ he murmured.

He didn’t elaborate, as per his way, and I wasn’t really in the mood to play our usual game of Twenty Questions. The fear around us was so all-consuming that it had an almost tangible quality, and the only thing I knew for sure was that we had to do something to end it. ‘How do we stop them?’ I asked.

For a moment, I didn’t think he’d heard me, but he finally dragged his gaze from the creatures and did a quick, sharp assessment of the rest of our surroundings. His eyes travelled up the side of the pink and silver building, and he gave a decisive nod. ‘There. You need to climb up to that sign.’

I looked. There, right on the edge of the roof, was a flashing sign that was brilliant even in the light of midday. Swirls of blue and green, a bit like a lava lamp, pulsed underneath its iridescent surface while dark-purple messages scrolled across it.

‘That’s two storeys up!’ I exclaimed. ‘And I’m in heels.’

‘Well then, you should have worn more sensible shoes, shouldn’t you? Really, Peri, don’t blame me for your oversights. The footholds are too small for me to do it myself. Now hurry!’

Some of the gaps in the lacy lattice-work looked too small for me too, but I knew he was right about which of us was the best choice. The scream of a child drove me to action, and I kicked off my shoes without further hesitation. I grabbed hold of the metal scrollwork, grateful that it seemed firmly attached, and started to climb, though I winced when some of the sharp edges dug into my bare feet. Moving upward also put me closer to some of the higher-flying pterodactyls, but I figured now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

‘Hurry!’ the Doctor yelled.

‘I’m going as fast as I can!’

I scurried up. At one point, my foot missed its hold, and I slipped a few inches. I clung to the lattice-work as tightly as I could, breathing deeply and steeling myself to regain my foothold and continue the climb. Finally, agonisingly, I reached the roof and climbed over its edge, grateful to find a flat, solid surface to kneel on.

‘Now what?’ I called down.

I could barely hear the Doctor’s answer above the noise of panic. ‘Grab the corner of the screen and rip it off!’

At first glance, I didn’t think it was possible. Then I saw that each corner had a small steel loop attached to it. I grabbed hold of one, then yelped, jerking away. The metal was so hot it had burned me. Below, I could hear the Doctor shouting encouragement, though his words were tinged with urgency and impatience.

Inspiration hit me, and I grabbed hold of my skirt. It was made of two layers, a light chiffon over heavier silk, and I ripped a large strip of the top layer away. I then tore it in half. The gauzy fabric wasn’t the best protection, but wrapping it round my hands provided some relief from the heat as I tried to pull the screen away again. Nothing happened. Refusing to accept failure, I gave it another tug and felt the slightest give. One more white-knuckled pull, and the screen slowly began to rip apart. As it did, I could see glittering wires and circuits sparking inside like a tiny Fourth of July show as fluorescent goop began trickling out of the bottom. I glanced down at the Doctor, waiting for my next instructions, when the most amazing thing happened.

In seconds, the mini-pterodactyls abruptly abandoned their prey and merged into an orderly flock. Their displeasure was expressed in a cacophony of jarring caws as they soared up like one being and flew out of sight. For a moment, an eerie silence hung in the street, then at last the Koturians began to recover, glancing warily around as they helped each other up and tended to the injured. Deeming my job done, I made my way back down the lattice-work and jumped the last couple of feet. The Doctor was beaming.

‘Well done! That wasn’t so difficult, was it?’

I glanced down at the angry red marks on my hands. ‘Depends on your definition of difficult. What happened?’

He pointed up at the dismantled sign. ‘Those lights use radiant Gengi tube technology. A bit gaudy, if you ask me, but quite trendy in places like this.’

‘Well, you are the expert when it comes to gaudy,’ I said, giving a meaningful look to his red-and-yellow plaid coat and green tie.

He ignored the jibe. ‘When the tubes inside are damaged they emit a type of electromagnetic radiation that you can’t perceive, but which is quite irritating to creatures like those.’

I remembered his earlier words. ‘Then you have seen them before.’

‘Not them specifically,’ he corrected. ‘But something with a similar feel. Let us hope it’s just a coincidence.’

Now that I didn’t feel my life was in imminent danger I finally had the chance to look around and truly take in the world we’d come to. The Doctor had already briefed me on the Koturians, and I found them exactly as he’d described. On the surface they resembled humans – and Time Lords, for that matter – save that their natural hair colour varied wildly. I saw ordinary brunettes like me and blonds like the Doctor, but the majority sported colours I would’ve expected to find in punk rock bands back home: deep purple, lime green, bright orange and so forth. Closer scrutiny showed me they weren’t the only species here. At least half of those on the streets were clearly aliens from other worlds, although, like the Doctor and me, they hadn’t been targeted.

And then I noticed the city itself. My jaw dropped.

‘This looks like –’ I could barely utter the words, certain my eyes were playing tricks on me – ‘Las Vegas.’

‘Well, I should think so,’ the Doctor said as we began to walk down the street, ‘seeing as that’s what the Koturians modelled their civilisation on.’

Las Vegas was an easy weekend road trip from my college town of Pasadena. I’d only been there once, but there was no mistaking the resemblance. Some of the buildings bore more than just a passing similarity to my memories. Sure, some of the details were different, but if you’d suddenly transported tourists here from the Strip in Las Vegas back on Earth, I doubt they’d have noticed. The same sort of over-the-top facades loomed above us, covered in lights that would no doubt ignite the evening’s darkness. As we walked I glimpsed gaming tables and slot machines through the glass doors. Enterprising vendors took advantage of our reprieve and were already back on the streets waving around flyers for tonight’s entertainments.

‘That’s exactly like the Sahara,’ I said, coming to a halt outside an impressive hotel and casino complex. ‘I remember visiting it.’

The Doctor nodded. ‘So did the Koturians. We’re about, oh, two hundred years after your time. Early Koturian explorers visited Earth in the late twentieth century and were charmed by the glitz and excitement of Las Vegas – as well as its money-making potential. They’re quite the entrepreneurs, you see. They quickly realised the allure of a city solely devoted to pleasure and games of chance – not just to humans but to many other species as well – so they took that concept and ran with it on a much, much grander scale.’

I shook my head, still feeling a little dazed. ‘How strange.’

‘Is it?’ He gave me a sidelong look. ‘Seems like a very American concept, really. Exploiting people’s hopes and dreams for profit. I figured you’d be quite comfortable with that.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘That’s a pretty harsh view of my countrymen.’

‘Well, believe what you want, but the Koturians have made a lot of money from their business plan. This is one of the wealthiest planets in the solar system. People come from far and wide to make their fortunes – and to consecrate their love.’

‘Consecrate their … You mean get married? But Las Vegas weddings are tacky.’

The Doctor grinned. ‘On the contrary, that’s one of the ways the Koturians’ version ended up different from the original. This place is considered the height of romance. Anyone who’s anyone tries to have a wedding on Koturia, and, as you’ll soon see, the Koturians themselves have an especial interest in marriage.’