Doctor Who_ The Krillitane Storm Part 17

SEVENTEEN.

*hey're gone for good, aren't they?' Emily asked, as _ the last of the TKrillitanes boarded their s.h.i.+p and its ramp retracted into the hull.

'Give it nine hundred years or so and they might try their luck, but no need for you to worry about that. It's already been dealt with.'

Emily frowned and glanced at the Doctor, curiously. There was so much about this man that remained unexplained, mysteries that she imagined few would ever get to the bottom of, as if he'd lived a dozen lives and would live a dozen more, finding a universe of excitement in all of them.

A sudden blast of heat broke through her reverie, accompanied by the roar of retro-thrusters. The Krillitane vessel dragged itself into the air, engaging its 235.

main engines and pointing its nose at the heavens. A blaze of light illuminated the thick cloud cover as the frigate broke through them, and soon the raging thunder of its engines became a distant rumble, then silence. One final sonic boom signified it had reached escape velocity.

That's that, then,' the Doctor sighed, staring into s.p.a.ce. He sniffed, and turned to Emily. 'So, what will you do now? Go back to university? Carry on being a big-shot bounty hunter?'

Emily laughed. 'I don't think so. I'm not really cut out for this line of work. Besides, that was Dad's world. Time to make my own way. If nothing else, Henk has left behind a lot of valuable junk. I could probably make a fair bit selling it for sc.r.a.p. Maybe enough to buy my way back into college.'

'Which leaves us with one knotty little problemo.' The Doctor nodded towards Henk, still bound to the skiffs loading arm, showing no sign of waking.

'Let's call him an unresolved opportunity, shall we? I've had enough of problems.' The young woman smiled, feeling happier than she had done in months.

'He had some pretty high-profile customers in there, you know, and not all of them made it out alive. I reckon he'll have made a few powerful enemies, the Calabrians, the Octulans, and they'll be looking for justice.' The Doctor had a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. 'Who knows, if someone knew where he was, well... They'd be able to demand a pretty high bounty for old Mister Henk.'

236.

Now they both smiled. She'd be all right, he decided, as they made their way to the city side of the Cathedral.

As they wandered out of the main entrance, they immediately saw the remains of the Krillitane Storm, now little more than a pile of smoking bones.

'Doctor. Emily.'

They both looked towards a voice they recognised.

'Captain Darke!' exclaimed the Doctor, joyfully grabbing the soldier's hand. 'Brilliant. Oh, it's brilliant to see you. Was it you finished off this big fella?'

'Not just me, sir. A lot of good men gave their lives in the battle.

Mind you, some of the men have already started calling me Saint George.' Darke looked embarra.s.sed. 'Doctor, I'm afraid I broke your gla.s.s bottle. Was it terribly valuable?'

'Priceless. To the likes of Mister Henk, anyway.' The Doctor replied, looking serious for a moment, but he couldn't keep it up for long and winked at Darke. 'But if it hasn't got a price then how can it be worth anything, eh?'

By late morning, people had begun streaming through the city gates, going back to their homes and businesses. Already some sense of normality had returned. Henk was now safely locked away in the holding cell on Emily's s.h.i.+p, and contact had been made with the Calabrian government, who were understandably very keen to get their hands on him.

The Doctor had made a point of examining the Sheriff, 237 237 who turned out to be a very nice man after all, and would be perfectly fine in time, despite the months spent under Henk's mental control.

Finally, the Doctor, Emily and Captain Darke arrived in an otherwise deserted alley, ignoring the stinking heap of rubbish nearby.

That's a coincidence. This is exactly the spot one of my Bio-locator Pods malfunctioned. Right where this little blue shed is.'

Emily walked up to the tall blue box with the 'Police' sign across the top.

'Really? Sorry about that. Probably my fault,' said the Doctor, reaching past Emily and unlocking the TARDIS door.

Emily looked on in amazement. 'Don't tell me this box is your s.h.i.+p?'

'What? Leave it alone. It's a lovely old thing.' The Doctor pretended to be hurt. He hated goodbyes, and would have much rather taken his leave when they weren't looking. 'Right, time I was off. Captain, it's been an honour. You're a good man, but take it easy for a bit, yeah? Kick back and put your feet up.'

'Whatever you say. Doctor. Not that I ever understand a word you say, but yes, whatever you say.' Darke bowed and stepped discreetly away as the Doctor turned to Emily.

'And as for you, just get yourself back to that university and learn stuff, and pa.s.s your exams and have a brilliant life, and...'

Thanks for everything, Doctor. I'll never forget you,'

238.

Emily said and, before she could stop herself, she held his face and kissed him tenderly. Darke found he was suddenly fascinated by the rats and their pile of rubbish.

'Yes, and... and that too. Well then, bye then." The Doctor looked fl.u.s.tered, ruffled his hair and grinned broadly. He opened the TARDIS door and ducked inside. A moment later and the lamp on the police box roof began to flash, accompanied by a straining, thumping, thunderous echo, and the strange blue box faded impossibly into nothingness.

'I don't believe it,' Emily whispered.

Darke blinked in astonishment. 'Neither do I. The Doctor's little blue house just disappeared into thin air.'

'No, not that. Look.'

Emily crouched down and picked up a flattened metal disc, all that remained of her malfunctioning Bio-locator Pod, crushed into the ground where the blue box had been standing. She smiled.

Typical.'

239.

A c k n o w l e d g e m e n t s

I promised I wouldn't cry, but... Oh, hang on, this isn't an awards ceremony, is it? I mean, who do I think I am, Kate Winslet? Anyway...

Huge thanks to Justin Richards, for giving me this chance to take a spin in the Vortex.

Special mention also to Nicholas Payne, my Historical Adviser, without whose input this novel wouldn't have a shred of historical authenticity. Not that there's a great deal of actual actual history in it, but what little there is is bang on the money. history in it, but what little there is is bang on the money.

I'm also grateful to those whose names I've borrowed to populate this tale. Thanks to Richard Darke for providing the Captain with his very cool surname, and to my good friend Charlie Gee, whose online pseudonym 'Henk Toeclaw' gave me two for the price of one. Anyone 241 241 else whose name crops up in the text, you know who you are and you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Thanks to Moray, Annie, Paul and everyone else at DWA.

Without you chaps, where would I be now, eh? Keep being brilliant.

To Mum, Dad, Steve, Lisa, Holly, Megan, Rosie, Jack and (at the time of writing) the as yet unnamed fifth element, thanks so much for your love and support.

Finally, and most especially, this book is for my beautiful daughter, Emily. (Come on, you didn't think I'd name my guest companion at random, did you? Imagine the brownie points I'll score once Emily is old enough to read this!) 242.

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Elvis the King s.p.a.ceport has grown into the sprawling city-state of New Memphis - an urban jungle, where organised crime is rife. But the launch of the new Terminal 13 hasn't been as smooth as expected. And things are about to get worse...

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