Doctor Who_ Deep Blue Part 10

'No time for explanations, the Doctor said. 'If we're to prevent an epidemic we need to make good use of every available second.'

'An epidemic?' said Turlough, baffled. 'An epidemic of what?'

'I don't know yet,' the Doctor admitted sombrely, then abruptly perked up again. 'Come along, we'll wait outside.'

Turlough gave a groan of exasperation as the Doctor strode off once more, heading for the main doors. He descended the wide stone steps to the pavement two at a time, then prowled back and forth in front of the hotel like a caged tiger, scrutinising the oncoming traffic.

Turlough sat down on the low wall outside the hotel and folded his arms. He watched the Doctor for a couple of minutes, then said, 'So what exactly are we waiting for now?'

'Transport.'

'Transport to where?' where?'

The exasperated plea in his voice prompted the Doctor to halt, and join Turlough on the wall. 'Have I ever mentioned my days with UNIT?'

'The Brigadier and all that,' said Turlough, nodding. 'Yes, once or twice.'

'Hmm. Well, that's who we're going to see now. In this time zone the Brigadier is still UNIT's commanding officer.'

Turlough looked at him. 'Isn't that going to be rather awkward?'

'In what way?'

'Oh, just that in a few years' time, I'm going to turn up as a pupil at the school where he teaches maths. Which rather raises the question: why didn't he recognise me when I arrived?'

The Doctor squinted up at the sky where gulls wheeled and soared as though engaged in some arcane ritualistic dance. 'I wouldn't worry about it,' he said vaguely. 'Time has a way of dealing with these things.'

Turlough raised his eyebrows. 'I don't see how it can.

Though I suppose I could could always wear a hat and some dark gla.s.ses.' always wear a hat and some dark gla.s.ses.'

'There'll be no need,' said the Doctor with a grin. 'You'll see.'

Turlough regarded him thoughtfully. 'And you're absolutely certain of this, are you?'

'One should never be certain of anything,' said the Doctor and abruptly jumped up. Here's our car.'

A blue Ford Escort was pulling up in front of the hotel. The Doctor returned the cheery wave that Mike Yates gave him.

Mike leaned across and pushed open the pa.s.senger door.

'Hop in quick, Doctor.'

The Doctor climbed into the pa.s.senger seat, Turlough got in the back and the car sped away.

Mike Yates drove the Escort, which had been seconded to him from the army car pool, the same way he drove his own red Spitfire - fast but skilfully. The Doctor seemed unperturbed, but Turlough clutched the seat, his face pale, tight-lipped. He hadn't been in a car since he had crashed the Brigadier's beloved Humber Tourer and he had no wish to repeat the experience. When the Doctor introduced him, he could manage no more than a stiff nod and a curt 'h.e.l.lo.'

Their destination was UNIT's temporary HQ at the local naval base five miles down the coast. Some four dozen UNIT troops had been billeted there, having arrived late last night.

'It won't be long before the Brigadier will have them performing manoeuvres on the beach - re-enacting the D-Day landings I shouldn't wonder,' the Doctor said, tempering his rather caustic humour with a grin.

Mike gave a vague smile, tactfully avoiding being drawn into the fun that the Doctor was poking at his commanding officer. A little reproachfully he said, 'It's always been UNIT's policy to keep a low profile until circ.u.mstances dictate otherwise, Doctor. You know that.'

'Do I?' said the Doctor, still grinning. 'Must have slipped my mind.'

The naval base, HMS Bilford, was made up of a complex of grey blocks surrounded by high chain-link fences topped with barbed wire. Mike drove up to the main gates and showed his UNIT pa.s.s to an armed Naval rating, who stared suspiciously at the Doctor and Turlough for a moment before Mike told him that their presence here could be vouched for personally by Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. The Naval rating retreated to his sentry box to make a phone call, reappearing a few moments later and grudgingly waving them in. Mike parked the car. 'This way,' he said, heading across a quadrangle to a long low blockhouse that annexed the main building.

Just like school, Turlough thought, as Mike pushed open several sets of reinforced gla.s.s doors and led them along a number of featureless corridors. Eventually they stopped outside a door numbered 106. Mike tapped on it smartly and the unmistakable voice of the Brigadier called, 'Come in' Turlough thought, as Mike pushed open several sets of reinforced gla.s.s doors and led them along a number of featureless corridors. Eventually they stopped outside a door numbered 106. Mike tapped on it smartly and the unmistakable voice of the Brigadier called, 'Come in'

The room they entered was indeed a cla.s.sroom, complete with desks and chairs and a blackboard at one end. There were two men drinking coffee - a burly man in a green army sweater, combat trousers, boots and a beret, and of course the Brigadier, albeit a younger, trimmer version than Turlough was used to.

The Doctor made the introductions with a twinkle in his eye, then he and Turlough helped Mike Yates to stack a couple of rows of desks at the side of the room, creating a s.p.a.ce in the centre of the floor. When Benton had provided them all with fresh coffee, they sat down, facing each other on a rough circle of chairs.

Never one for unnecessary preamble, the Brigadier said, 'Any new theories on the situation, Doctor?'

'Yes. I believe the answer lies in whatever Mr Elkins saw land in the sea.'

'In what way, Doctor?' Mike asked.

'Well, my theory is that the object is causing some kind of water-borne contamination.'

'Chemical warfare?' suggested Benton.

'Perhaps. Or maybe the object is simply a piece of s.p.a.ce debris whose impact with the earth cracked it open, releasing an alien pollutant.'

'Charming thought,' said the Brigadier. 'As if we haven't got the effects of our own pollution to worry about.'

'Quite so,' said the Doctor.

'So you reckon the only people affected will be those who've been in contact with the water?' Benton asked.

'Not necessarily. Anyone who has eaten fish or seafood since the object came down could be at risk too.'

'Then we may have a problem,' said the Brigadier. 'The Royal Navy kindly laid on a rather splendid fish supper for us all when we arrived last night.'

The Doctor raised his eyes heavenwards. 'Marvellous. And how about you, Mike? Have you eaten fish too?'

'As a matter of fact, no I haven't.' Mike gave a tight smile.

'Pity. I was looking forward to a nice bit of haddock tonight.'

Sunning herself on the beach, Tegan wondered what would happen if she stayed here with Andy. She'd carry on getting older, whilst in several years' time a younger version of herself would blunder into a police box on the Barnet bypa.s.s.

Eventually the Doctor would bring her here, where she would meet Andy and the whole cycle would begin again. It made Tegan's head spin thinking about how tangled up in time you could become if you really put your mind to it.

She would never be able to travel to London to meet herself, of course, because as the Doctor was always telling her, there were rules against that sort of thing. So if she did stay here, she wouldn't be able to save Aunt Vanessa from being murdered by the Master in a few years' time. That alone - aside from the practical limitations -was reason enough why she couldn't stay. couldn't stay.

'You OK?' asked Andy, lying on the towel beside her.

Tegan opened her eyes. Everything looked bleached, not quite real. 'Fine,' she said. 'Why?'

'You looked fed up all of a sudden. I just wondered if something was wrong.'

She turned and smiled at him. 'I was just wis.h.i.+ng I could stay here for ever - but I can't.'

'Why not?' he asked casually.

She sat up, drawing her knees towards her and wrapping her arms around them. 'I just can't. In a few days or a few weeks I'll have to move on. You wouldn't understand.'

'Thanks,' said Andy.

'No, I didn't mean it like that. It's complicated.'

'Wanderl.u.s.t,' said Andy.

'Pardon?'

'You've got wanderl.u.s.t. I understand that all right. You're a free spirit. You don't like to be tied down.'

She laughed. 'If only it were that simple.'

'Well, if it isn't wanderl.u.s.t, what is it?' He paused, 'You're not on the run, are you?'

She laughed even harder. 'You've got it! I'm a desperate fugitive. That's why I'm spending my day with a policeman.'

He smiled. 'Maybe you like to live dangerously.'

Tegan looked out over the ocean and said, almost to herself, 'I do that all right.'

Andy looked perplexed. 'You know, I've never met anyone quite like you.'

'Isn't that a bit of a cliche?'

He shrugged. 'Maybe. It's true, though.'

They lapsed into silence, both of them watching the sea charging at the sh.o.r.e, kids playing, dogs barking as they frolicked at the water's edge. If she was going to enjoy her day with Andy, Tegan knew she would have to stop dropping subtle clues that there was more to her than met the eye.

She didn't mean mean to do it, but she couldn't help it somehow. It was as if a part of her wanted him to find out who she was, where she came from. Maybe, rather than her staying here, Andy could come with to do it, but she couldn't help it somehow. It was as if a part of her wanted him to find out who she was, where she came from. Maybe, rather than her staying here, Andy could come with them them in the TARDIS. Then the Doctor could hop forward, say, eight years and they could both simply pick up their lives again... in the TARDIS. Then the Doctor could hop forward, say, eight years and they could both simply pick up their lives again...

No, what was she thinking of? She hardly knew the bloke, for goodness sake! Why couldn't she just concentrate on enjoying the day ahead? Morning on the beach, lunch in a nice pub, a walk in the countryside - why look beyond that?

'Are you sure sure you're OK?' Andy asked, breaking her out of her reverie. you're OK?' Andy asked, breaking her out of her reverie.

'Yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking.'

'You don't want to do that, you know,' he told her. 'Makes your brain hurt.' He leaned closer to her, propping himself on one elbow. Tegan could smell the suntan lotion on his shoulders and chest. His voice became softer, more serious.

'Look, Tegan, I just want us to have a nice day together. I reckon if you've got stuff to tell me, you'll tell me in your own time. I don't want to come over all heavy on you. My philosophy is, enjoy life while you can. You might not be here tomorrow.'

'Very comforting,' said Tegan.

He grinned, 'Come on, let's go for a swim. Get rid of some of those cobwebs.'

He jumped to his feet and held out his hand to her. Tegan laughed, 'You're not going to get me in there.'

'Why not? Can't you swim?'

'Course I can swim. But the sea back home is like a warm bath compared to that!' She nodded disdainfully at the grey water.

Still grinning, he grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet. 'Bracing is what it is. Come on, on, Tegan.' Tegan.'

She put up only token resistance as he dragged her, laughing, down to the water's edge.

'Urgh, what's this stuff?' she said, sidestepping what looked like a lump of colourless jelly that had been carried in by the tide.

He shrugged, unconcerned. 'A melted jellyfish? Maybe the heat of the sun was too much for it.'

'It's all over the beach,' she exclaimed, noticing mounds of it scattered along the sh.o.r.eline.

'Don't worry about it. As long as you don't step in it, you'll be all right.'

Ten yards from the water, he let go of her hand, ran at full-pelt down to the sea and plunged in. Tegan saw a wave crash over him and then a few seconds later he surfaced, coughing and spluttering.

'You're mad!' she shouted.