Doctor Who_ Drift Part 25

He hurried to stow Martha's s.h.i.+vering form safely inside.

'Stop!'

The Doctor was far from the only one to have seen the snow-blurred silhouette, sweeping the puny beam of a flashlight back and forth across their path. Landers was guiding them in for a gentle stop as the figure came trotting up, the silhouette magnifying enormously like a projected shadow.

The Doctor knew that something was amiss.

Up ahead, the bulky police truck, with its crest of lights, waited on the incline under the trees, identifying the figure before he showed his face at the driver's window. Landers helpfully rolled down the window and shrugged. 'I was only doing thirty, officer.'

The Doctor could see the Police Chief wasn't in the mood.

'What is it, Makenzie?' The Doctor opened his door and hopped out, brus.h.i.+ng his mop of hair back before jamming his hat down firmly. 'What can we help you with?'

'Doc, I need you to come take a look at Amber. Thank G.o.d you came when you did.'

'Well, you can thank Mr Landers for that.' The Doctor weighed his choices in a moment and stalked forward to the driver's door. He rapped on the vehicle's flank. Make sure you deliver my patients safely, Mr Landers. And when you transfer them into the hotel, move them very very very very gently. And gently. And don't touch the ice.' touch the ice.'

The Doctor was satisfied with Landers' nod, and he grinned to soften the threat considerably. He ushered Makenzie Shaw back a step to allow the departure of the improvised ambulance, and then marched ahead to the police truck.

Makenzie shone the flashlight in past him, showing Martha Mailloux laid out, wrapped in a blanket and in a fevered kind of sleep. Amber sat quietly alongside her mother, apparently in shock and very clearly dead to the world.

'Your mother did a very brave thing trying to protect you. But it was you who worked out it was afraid of the water. What made you think of that, hmm?'

As rich as the voice sounded, it didn't really reach through to Amber. How could it, when her thoughts were such a personal blizzard? Swirling and dancing like the snowflakes over the lake as Makenzie drove them carefully along the sh.o.r.e, back into town.

Doesn't matter which way we go. Amber was thinking.

Doesn't make any difference.

She looked up. The Doctor leaned over the back of his seat, holding her hand.

'That's a nasty cut,' tutted the Doctor, his sympathy not grating like some, but somehow forced nevertheless. Amber glanced down at her palm, and watched him prod at the tiny crystals with a tweezers. 'If you like, we can do something - to stop any infection.'

'It's nothing.' she said, and realised how much she meant and felt it. Her voice still sounded dead, the way it had as she had answered the man's questions, relating the story of all that had happened out on the lake. 'It's tiny, nothing. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't want to hurt any of us. That's just it - that's how I knew. I know how it feels.'

Makenzie's eyes glanced at her out of the mirror. She looked away, but that left her looking down at her Mom, sleeping fitfully beside her. She didn't know where to look and felt her face burning under the attention.

'I feel what it feels. I do. I know how it sounds, but it's the truth. I'm not lying. I'm not!'

'I believe you, Amber,' said the Doctor. And she found that steady, infinite gaze waiting for her when she looked up.

'Sure,' Makenzie weighed in, 'we believe you, Amber. We do.'

It was awkward and fumbling, unlike the Doctor's a.s.surance. But there was something in it that cooled Amber's resentment, if only by a degree or two.

'What does it want, Amber? Can you tell me that?'

'No, I only know how it feels. It just wants - a home, can't you see that? It wants its life back. It wants - Something new came to her out of the blizzard in her head. She stared into the Doctor's eyes, as deep as she could go. it wants you.'

The Doctor stared back at her, far from flattered.

She had effectively silenced him for the rest of the journey, and she felt satisfied with herself but wounded and sorry at the same time. But that was only to be expected.

That was what it felt like when you were the centre of a storm.

The Doctor hopped out as soon as they'd parked up. and Makenzie hurried to join him outside. Across the street, stretcher parties were gathering to convey the patients from the other vehicle into the hotel. The Doc was searching the snows as though the flakes were his thoughts and he might pluck the right one out of the air at any moment.

'I don't think there's any cause for concern in Amber's case.' the Doc a.s.sured him.

'You're kidding, right?' Makenzie kept a check on his anger, for the moment.

'Quite the opposite,' the Doc turned to face him. 'Those crystals barely penetrated her skin. They were so utterly inert, in fact, I went so far as to sc.r.a.pe the wound clean of them. No, I think we can a.s.sume your child has remained unharmed.' He arched his brow darkly. 'Why. That's the question we should concern ourselves with.'

'Doc,' Makenzie still wasn't happy. He could see Amber's face at the window of his truck, and he was thinking of Martha lying in there beside her. He, Makenzie. was the only one looking out for that kid right now. 'You have to understand, she's not my child, and-'

'Yes, tell me about that.' The Doc was very interested, all of a sudden. 'What goes on inside that child's head, hmm?

What makes her tick, would you say?'

Makenzie was stumped. Then he figured, well, the Doc wouldn't ask without good reason. It was just a shame he couldn't tell the guy much. 'What can I tell you. Doc. She's a mixed-up ten-year-old kid. Runs away a lot. but she learnt that from her Mom. She's been dragged here and there across the country, every time Martha felt the need to run - like she did tonight. Well.' he gave it some long thought. 'I guess she's seen enough to make her feel all grown up, like she wants to take control of her own life before it's time.'

'Hey there. Doc! You're wanted!

The technical guy, Pydych, was trotting across the road.

'Our Agency buddies want you in the lab,' he yelled. 'They got some kind of major breakthrough they need to discuss.'

The Doc glanced at Makenzie. 'Hm, it's only a shame we can't say the same. But you know, I think we might be on the brink of something. Either that, or a precipice.'

At that, he hared off past Pydych to the hotel, abandoning Makenzie to the blizzard.

Parker stood poised behind the laboratory door, rehearsing the ambush in his mind. The door swung open and caught him off-guard.

'Relax,' said Melody, rolling her eyes. 'They're bringing in Lieutenant Hmieleski and the Doctor's friend right now. He'll be in here any minute.'

Parker nodded, casual and content. 'Well good, he's kept us waiting long enough.'

'Parker, are you sure there isn't some more subtle method we could try first?'

Parker shook his head and sighed. He felt like cupping Melody's face in his hands. 'Your touching naivety is one of your attractions, hon, but trust me. On this, Parker knows best.'

'Whatever.' Melody sauntered over to her microscope, and leaned against the bench.

They only had a short wait.

The Doctor entered with his usual stoop, and glanced around. Parker was already rus.h.i.+ng up behind him and swinging the tall guy's arm up for a half-nelson. Nicely does it.

He grasped for the other arm, but suddenly it wasn't where he expected to find it. The Doctor spun and ducked under Parker to fling him over his back. Parker landed on his feet, just about but went staggering backwards to bang the base of his spine against the bench. By which time the Doctor was a.s.suming a defensive stance and Parker was thinking, the h.e.l.l with this. with this.

He brought up his .357 Desert Eagle and aimed it at the Doctor's fish-bowl eyes.

'All right, that was fun. Doc. Now if you'd kindly roll up your sleeve, perhaps we can persuade you to donate some blood. We'd prefer it fresh, and personally speaking I'd rather collect it with a needle than a mop, if you really really don't mind. don't mind.

So how about it?'

Chapter Eighteen.

Morgan Shaw felt something like a dog playing fetch, but if anyone was throwing sticks he couldn't afford not to go pick them up. Pydych had reported a research breakthrough and he collared the engineer in the lobby. 'Pydych, with me. You can interpret the science for me.'

'Sir-' Morgan shut him up with a wave then shoved the lab door open. It took one long breath to register the scene that confronted him.

'Can I take It,' he spat, 'you guys haven't quite hammered out your theories?' He reserved a special glare for Parker.

'And you, put that piece away, because I have a suhmachinegun and I am borderline psychotic right now.

One of you had better have a real good explanation.'

Theroux tucked the sidearm away, 'It's kind of difficult,' he shrugged.

The woman stepped forward, too keen a volunteer for Morgan's liking. 'Actually, it's really quite simple. We've iden-tified that the Doctor has a special blood type; one which might help recrystallise the iceform and subvert its currently hostile structure. Render it inert, perhaps.'

Morgan followed the signal glance she sent at the Doc.

The Doc, give him credit, played it smooth. Advancing on Quartararo with a grin, he pumped her hand energetically and guided her into the sort of huddle a happy coach would give his favourite team member. 'Yes, that was exceedingly clever of you. Did I mention how clever that was, hmm?

Where did you study? Somewhere very prestigious, I imagine.'

The Doctor discarded her, adopting a lop-sided and rather theatrical pose for Morgan's benefit. 'Of course. I told her it couldn't possibly work on the scale we would need, but it would almost certainly be a splendid way of cleansing and repairing the nervous systems of those already affected.' He pounced on Theroux with a hearty pat on the back. 'That was when Parker here came over all n.o.ble and insisted we use his blood instead.'

'You're telling me he has this same rare blood type?'

'Ah, well, that's just what I asked him. But he really was insistent on being n.o.ble.' The Doctor s.n.a.t.c.hed up a syringe from the bench and seized hold of Theroux's wrist. The needle was plunged instantly into a vein on the guy's hand and drawing off a tube of dark red.

'Ow!' Theroux yanked his arm free before the syringe was full. He shot a shrug of appeal at Morgan. 'You're going to stand there and let him attack a government agent?'

Morgan wasn't ready to upset this piece of theatre. 'If you want to be n.o.ble, sure.'

The Doctor held the syringe up to the light and studied the dark red liquid the way a wine taster studies a fine claret. He stopped short of swigging it back. 'Hm. just as I thought.' He quietly pocketed the syringe. 'Completely the wrong type.'

'Okay,' Morgan finally folded his arms, it's been an entertaining routine, but spare me the encore. Whatever it is you people are hiding here, sort it out. Do whatever you have to do. Spill whoever's blood it takes. Because we've drawn our lines in the snow out there and I don't want any more of my people shedding theirs, do I make myself perfectly clear?'

The Doctor brought his leaden eyes to bear. 'Crystal.'

Morgan drew a steely breath. He turned and exited quickly before the hollow wells at the corners of his eyes chose to fill.

The young man marching out through the hotel lobby looked nothing like Makenzie's kid brother. Too tender about the eyes, too drawn and fatigued. Actually, yes, there was a resemblance to Morgan, that time after he had lost his first fight in the schoolyard.

He hadn't wanted to talk then. He certainly wouldn't now.

Makenzie barred him with a hand planted on his chest.

'Morgan. I know a way we can get these people out of here.

Every one of them. Across that lake.'

Morgan regarded him for all of a second. Then shook his head. 'Uh-uh. Too dangerous.'

Makenzie practically growled. 'G.o.d, Morgan, come on! You can't save this town - and don't pretend you ever came here to do that!' Makenzie raised a fist, but didn't quite know what to hit. It hovered in the air uncertainly, then descended for a firm but controlled landing on his brother's shoulder. 'You left this town to save your own life, Morg. Can't you just stop and think about saving some others for a change?'

Morgan's gaze was starting to toughen up again. Makenzie took heart from that.

Lieutenant Hmieleski and the girl, Leela, were laid out on a couple of single beds, blank and lifeless, while Corporal Pydych busied himself setting up the tubes and saline drips according to Melody's instructions and the Doctor supervised in a detached manner from the end of Leela's bed. Parker stewed silently in the corner armchair, ma.s.saging his hand.

'Our intruder attacks the nervous system,' the Doctor had reasoned aloud, 'so as long as my blood is operating outside of its normal jurisdiction, so to speak, the antibodies should start doing their work completely unopposed.'

He made it sound so simple, and yet he was so plainly wary of potential complications. If there was ever going to be a safe time to make amends, this was it, Melody supposed.

She sidled up to the Doctor. 'Doctor, I'd like to apologise for my partner's behaviour.'

The Doctor wheeled around. 'Mm?'

Melody steered him gently out of Pydych's earshot. 'I tried to tell him there were far more civilised ways to request a simple blood donation.' she laughed under a sigh.

Fingers gripped her wrist like a handcuff. 'I would hardly call pickpocketing civilised.'

Melody swore under her breath. 'Sorry.' she said, easing her hand out of the Doctor's pocket. But you must understand, as government agents we can't allow things like blood samples to fall into the wrong hands. Someone less scrupulous than yourself might construe all manner of highly personal information.'

'Ah, well. I'm not as scrupulous as all that.' The Doctor let go of her hand and retrieved something from his pocket. He slapped the graviton distortion sensor into her palm. 'But I do like to return things when I've finished with them. It's more neighbourly.' He turned to face her, cheerfully curious all of a sudden. 'Do you suppose we could be neighbours? I mean, technically I'm of no fixed abode, so it's difficult to say who my neighbours are, but I'm sure I must have pa.s.sed through your area at one time or another.'

'Excuse me?' Melody fluttered her lashes, retreating behind a shallow smile.

'Oh come on, I've complimented you on your intelligence.

Don't insult mine.' He dipped his face level with hers, 'It's not medical information you're anxious to conceal. You're worried I know enough to construct a DNA profile from that sample, a profile I might pa.s.s on to the relevant authorities - a profile the Captain might have to investigate, hmm? Come on. you can tell me. Am I getting warm?'

Melody's smile evaporated under the heat.

Little more than a mile. And yet, for all Makenzie could see past the church, it might as well have been the exodus to the Promised Land. The view was a silk screen, falling to pieces before his eyes and beyond it, maybe, the darker streak of ink was the wooded headland where they would find the small resort town of Winnipesaukee and salvation.

Meanwhile the folk of his town were filing past to a.s.semble in the church, and he was starting to feel like the only usher at a ma.s.s funeral.

Men, women and children, collected in little bundles. Far fewer faces than there should have been. The congregation would be a severely diminished one.