Doctor Who_ Happiness Patrol Part 9

'I'm not ready!' cried Susan Q.

'No one ever is,' said Priscilla P, quietly, and levelled her gun at Ace, who was moving towards Susan Q. 'Steady,'

she said.

Susan was still struggling in vain. 'Wait a minute! Just let me say goodbye to my friend. Please!'

Priscilla P walked up to Susan Q and looked into her eyes. 'Why?' she said softly. 'What's the point?' Then she turned to the guards and her voice hardened. 'Take her away!'

As the guards dragged Susan Q away to the nearby Happiness Patrol jeep, Ace glared at Priscilla P. 'Just one question. How do you live with yourself?'

Priscilla P watched as the jeep, drove off down the road.

Susan Q had been in her patrol on the night s.h.i.+ft. Priscilla P thought she had an att.i.tude problem, always trying to understand the killjoys they found, instead of eliminating them. Always wanting an hour-long debate before using her fun gun. As far as Priscilla P was concerned, Susan Q was the sort of guard the Happiness Patrol could do without. She felt no remorse as she watched Susan Q being taken to her death.

She said as much to Ace. 'She was never any good. She never had the right att.i.tude. She never joined in. She wasn't part of the team. She...'

Ace clamped her hands over her ears. 'She was my friend!'

Suddenly Priscilla P was diving to the ground, pulling her gun. Ace instinctively leapt for cover, but then saw that Priscilla P was not aiming at her, but at a small creature emerging from a manhole just down the street. It was Wences, who had been sent out to look for Ace.

Priscilla fired, but Wences ducked down into the pipe and safety. When he emerged again he threw his small spear with all his strength. Priscilla P dodged it, but lost her balance. Ace took her chance and lunged at Priscilla P, slamming her to the ground, and knocking her gun out of her hand. The tray was upset, and Ace managed to rescue one of her cans of nitro-nine.

'Ace!' It was Wences, calling from the manhole.

Ace hesitated, and then ran for the manhole. She jumped into it, following Wences, just as Priscilla P recovered her gun and opened fire.

8.

In another section of the pipes, the Pipe People were guiding Earl and the Doctor to a manhole leading to the surface. Wulfric was leading the way. He had already fallen once on the journey. Now he lost his footing and collapsed again.

Earl helped him up. 'What's the matter with these little guys?'

The Doctor was concerned. 'They may not look like it,'

he said, 'but they're on the edge of starvation.' He tapped the wall with his umbrella. 'No sugar in the pipes.'

'But why can't they live on the surface?'

They used to,' said the Doctor, grimly. 'They were driven down here by the human settlers.'

'Can't someone help them?'

Yes,' said the Doctor. 'Us.'

They stopped and Wulfric pointed to the roof. 'Here we are,' said the Doctor. 'Seventh manhole on the left. I'll go first.' He turned to face Wulfric and doffed his hat. 'Thank you, Wulfric. It has been my privilege.'

The Doctor scrambled up the side of the pipe and pushed open the manhole. He hooked his umbrella to the side of the hole and pulled himself up. As he emerged into the murky gloom of the street, he found himself looking straight at the familiar bowler hat, clipboard and yellow tie of Trevor Sigma.

'Name?' said Trevor Sigma.

'I'm the Doctor. Haven't we met before?'

'I'm sorry,' said Trevor. 'That's cla.s.sified information.'

'You're Trevor Sigma, aren't you?'

Trevor flipped open his ident.i.ty card. 'Galactic Census Bureau. I ask the questions.'

You ask the questions?'

'I'm sorry that's cla.s.sified information. Address?'

'Which one?' asked the Doctor.

Trevor Sigma took a deep breath. 'If you live here I need a town and a street. If you're an alien I need a home planet except when you spend more than half of the working year away, in which case I need a planet of origin.'

'I'm sorry that's cla.s.sified information. Name?'

Trevor Sigma was nonplussed. 'What?'

'I ask the questions,' snapped the Doctor. 'Name?'

'Trevor Sigma.'

'Address?'

'Galactic Centre.'

Earl pulled himself up through the manhole. 'What's going on?'

'Questionnaire,' said the Doctor.

'I hate questionnaires,' groaned Earl.

The Doctor turned his attention back to Trevor Sigma.

'Occupation?'

'Galactic census taker,' said Trevor, obediently.

'Authorized to enter any Alphan property and interview all Alphans.'

This was what the Doctor had been waiting to hear. 'I thought so. Good,' he said. 'Take me to their leader.'

Earl had his own plans. 'I've got places to go, Doctor,'

he said.

'Don't worry,' said the Doctor. 'I'll find you when I need you.'

'How?'

'The brandy of the d.a.m.ned, of course.'

Earl slapped the Doctor on the back. 'Listen, Doctor.

You're a nice guy but a little weird.'

'Music, Earl,' explained the Doctor. 'Play the blues for me.'

Earl waved, and ambled off down the street. As he went he took his harmonica out of his jacket pocket and started to play.

Trevor Sigma and the Doctor watched him go, and listened to the haunting music.

'That's nice,' said Trevor, quietly. 'Makes me feel sort of...' He struggled for the words.

The Doctor helped him out. 'Melancholy.'

'Yes,' said Trevor, seizing on the word. 'That's it! A pleasant melancholy.'

Daisy K was feeling uncomfortable. She had once again been summoned to see Helen A to account for the events which had taken place at the waiting zone. Helen A sat before her, stroking Fifi, who purred contentedly.

Suddenly Helen A fixed Daisy K in her gaze and spoke.

'I still don't understand,' she said, 'how Priscilla P, one of our most enthusiastic happiness crusaders...'

Daisy K snorted. Priscilla P had got her into enough trouble recently for her to have any vestige of sympathy.

Helen A pretended not to hear, and continued '...how Priscilla P came to be overpowered by a defenceless girl.'

'The girl wasn't alone,' said Daisy K.

'Then tell me about her companions,' smiled Helen A.

'We need that sort of spirit in the Happiness Patrol.'

Daisy K wished she had kept her mouth shut. 'The girl was in league with a vermin,' she said, realizing how ridiculous it sounded even as she was saying it.

Helen A was beginning to enjoy herself. 'So Priscilla P was defeated by a defenceless girl and a vermin. Is it a joke, Daisy K?'

Daisy K bowed her head. 'No, ma'am.'

Helen A sat back in her chair. 'What a shame. I enjoy a good joke. Tell me. Where did this guerrilla unit disappear to when it had dealt with Priscilla P?'

'It went down the pipes,' said Daisy K, praying for the end of this inquisition.

But Helen A seemed pleased. 'The pipes. Excellent,' she said, stroking Fifi, who growled softly. 'Fifi's been eating too many chocolates recently, haven't you my darling?' She planted a kiss on the top of Fifi's head. Then her voice hardened. 'She could do with a bit of sport!'

Under the ground, Ace was padding along one of the larger pipes. The bottom of the pipe was sticky and the going was difficult. Every now and then she had to wait for Wences, whose legs were much shorter than hers, to catch up. He arrived at her side, and rested for a moment, leaning against the side of the pipe.

'Nice pipes,' said Ace, making conversation. 'Reminds me of Perivale.'

'Ace!' said Wences.

'Well, not that nice!' said Ace, puzzled by his reaction.

'Gordon Bennett!' said Wences. He s.h.i.+fted the position of the can of nitro-nine, which, as a warrior, he had insisted on carrying.

'And careful with that can, or we'll end up as graffiti,'

said Ace. They had rested long enough now, and continued trudging along the pipe.

Up ahead, a manhole slid open and Happiness Patrol hands gently lowered a small bedraggled bundle into the pipe. Fifi threw back her head and howled with pleasure.

She was hunting again..

Earl was sitting on a white wrought-iron chair on the balcony of a deserted house, his feet resting on the rail. He was in no hurry, just enjoying the sounds of his harmonica in the night air. He had never known a city that was so silent. He knew the Happiness Patrol curfew was in operation, but even so there were no sounds from the surrounding houses and no sounds of life, not even a pa.s.sing s.p.a.ce-shuttle in the sky.

Suddenly there was a new sound. Earl stopped playing and listened. It was a slow, rhythmic drumbeat, and a solemn chant. The sound was getting closer and from his vantage-point he had a clear view of the drones' procession as it shuffled round the corner into the street below. He watched for a few moments, and then went back into the empty house and slipped out of a back door. The Doctor should know about this.

From a higher balcony a few streets away, a couple of trained killers were waiting for the procession to come past. David S and Alex S were Happiness Patrol snipers. In spite of their lowly names, they had done well to get as far as they had done in a woman's world. There were few men in the Happiness Patrol only a small squad of unarmed Happiness Patrol men of immense physical strength, and another of trained marksmen, of which David S and Alex S were a part. But even these groups were discriminated against. Picking off drones taking part in a hopeless demonstration against Happiness Patrol murders was not high-profile work.

They huddled together against the cold while they were waiting, listening to the approaching drumbeat.

Eventually, David S decided they should prepare. He carefully unwrapped his pride and joy a new gun.

'Here we are,' he said. 'Look at that.'

But Alex S was too miserable to be interested. 'I can't believe we're doing this again.'