Doctor Who_ Father Time Part 21

Ferran smiled, leaning up on his elbows. He was gaining strength fast.

'We cannot spare the resources,' he said. 'Things have changed since your time.'

'Civil war?' Sallak asked.

'Not yet.' Ferran took a deep breath. 'The Factions observe an uneasy truce. There have been a few atrocities, but no one wants a return to the Imperial system. Most feel it is only a matter of time before the truce collapses and one of the Factions makes a play for dominance.'

'And are we ready? We have s.h.i.+ps?'

'We are as ready as anyone else. But we need men like you there, Sallak. Leaders. Soldiers. We need an advantage.'

'You have grown to become a fine leader, Prefect. You have a lot of your brother about you.'

Ferran shook his head. 'You are not the only reason we came here: I have another mission.'

'The blood feud.'

'The feud. You have located the Last One?'

'I was captured by the humans. They were aided by the Doctor.' Ferran's eyes were wide open at that news. 'Your brother was killed by a man called Barry Castle.'

Joel was hanging on every word. 'You're time-travellers, yeah? So how come they didn't send a rescue party straightaway? I mean, like to ten minutes ago? Or before you were arrested?'

Ferran smiled at him, the sort of smile a teacher gave a bright pupil. 'We have only recently acquired time travel. We still have much to learn about its mysteries.' He turned back to Sallak. 'Deputy, three people must die: Barry Castle, the Doctor and the Last One.' Kirst was a little shocked how easily those words came to the young man's lips. He was already plotting how he'd do it.

'We will start as soon as you are strong enough,' the Deputy vowed.

Chapter Twelve.

Voices from the Past Dinah sat in Miranda's huge back garden, looking back at her huge house. Miranda's dad had brought them a jug of lemonade, which Dinah steadfastly refused to believe he had made himself. Then he disappeared back into the house, claiming he had some work to do in his laboratory.

Dinah was always impressed by Miranda's house, and had no doubt at all that there was a laboratory in it somewhere it seemed bigger on the inside than the outside. That in itself was quite an achievement it was a large house, which had probably once been a vicarage, maybe even a schoolhouse.

The gardens were beautifully tended. Roses, old statues, even a couple of beehives. 'Any idea why you've got a police box in your garden yet?' she asked.

'None whatsoever,' Miranda admitted cheerfully.

'Your dad's gorgeous,' Dinah said, once he'd gone.

'Dinah!' Miranda said, genuinely shocked.

'Oh, I'm not going to ask him out or anything.'

Miranda was shaking her head. 'I take that for granted.'

Dinah grinned. 'Who are you bringing to my party, then?'

'Everyone I know is invited anyway,' Miranda replied. She hadn't got all that many friends. She wasn't shy shy, but she was hardly a social animal, either.

'Bob likes you,' Dinah said, trying to provoke a response.

'No, he doesn't.'

'Oh come on, Rand, don't do this again: I'm fed up of blokes coming over to me and looking lovestruck, then me getting my hopes up and then it turning out that they want to know if you've got a boyfriend. Just get one, so I can tell them you have and they can go away?'

Miranda gave her a withering look. 'That's not what happens. Besides, you've got Alex.'

'And he spends half his time looking at you.'

'He doesn't. He thinks I'm a bit strange.'

'Let's go through the list: you're tall, long legs, blonde hair, great t.i.ts, athletic, a bit strange. Yes, I can see why he's ignoring you.'

Miranda was blus.h.i.+ng. 'I'm not into all that, you know that.'

'Into what? Boys?'

's.e.x,' Miranda said, clearly shocking herself by saying the word.

Dinah grinned. 'You don't smoke, swear, drink, sweat or belch. You ought to do something, Rand. Even the law says you're old enough.'

'I do lots of things,' she said, not taking the slightest offence. 'I just don't feel that way.'

'You're missing out,' Dinah said.

'I'm not,' Miranda insisted. 'You know I'm not. I spend every summer abroad, I've got my swimming, my chess, friends, schoolwork. Plenty of things. You'll be telling me to start smoking next.'

Dinah was jealous. Her parents were well off, but Miranda's dad was a millionaire money just wasn't a problem. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, Miranda wasn't at all acquisitive. She dressed smartly, and quite fas.h.i.+onably, but she didn't know any of the labels, and didn't seem to care. It was the same with boys: Miranda had beauty, but didn't use it. It was a waste, Dinah thought. She'd never come up with a good theory why.

'Are you worried what your dad would think?'

Miranda frowned. 'No. Should I be?'

'Put it this way if my parents ask, I've been round to your house loads recently, and as far as you know, I've only ever held hands with Alex.'

'I don't think the Doctor would care.'

'The Doctor?'

'My dad. You know that's what he's called.'

'I know that's what you call him, it doesn't stop it being strange.'

'I don't think he'd mind me having a boyfriend. If he noticed.'

'Well, do you mind him having girlfriends?'

Miranda laughed. 'He doesn't.'

'It's not that ridiculous.'

'My dad's never had a girlfriend.'

'What?'

'Not since I've known him, as far as I know. Certainly not since he adopted me.'

'Oh, come on, you're just being naive. I know it can be pretty horrifying to think that your parents do it, but he must do.'

'No.'

'Never had a woman round to stay? A "friend"?'

Miranda smiled. 'Once. About a year ago. She said she was an old friend, although Dad couldn't remember her. She stayed here. Don't look at me like that: she slept in a spare bedroom. Her name was Iris. Dad got on with her, but... no, he got all embarra.s.sed when he accidentally caught her in the bath. She said she'd come to help sort things out and explain a few things, but she just ended up confusing us, to be honest. She left in a huff after a day or two.'

'He goes on loads of business trips, though, yeah?'

'Yes.'

'There you go. A girl in every port, he wants to keep them secret.'

'From who?'

'Er... he's so hunky, though. It's a waste.'

'Hunky?'

'Does he go for the schoolgirl type, do you think?'

'Dinah, that's my dad you're talking about.'

'Well, what's his type?'

'Is there something wrong with your hormones, Dinah?'

'Something wrong with yours. Ask Bob. Bob's nice. I should know, I used to go out with him.'

'For five minutes.'

'Three dates,' Dinah corrected her. 'And he was the perfect gentleman. That's one of the reasons he had to go. Look. You don't have to... y'know. Get to know Bob, as a friend, then see what happens from there. You might surprise yourself.'

Miranda considered the idea.

'Follow your heart,' Dinah urged.

'Which one?' Miranda asked her.

'Either of them. Both. Come on...'

Miranda smiled. 'If it'll shut you up...'

Debbie arrived at the hospital, waving at Nurse Collins, the duty nurse.

She knew all the nurses by name, knew their s.h.i.+fts better than they did themselves. Walking to Barry's room was something she did without needing to think where she was going. She'd often end up at his room surprised she was there already she just hadn't needed to switch her brain on.

This morning, something was different. There was someone in the room.

An old man in a white coat. He had his back to her, and was bent over Barry. He was helping him to sit up.

Barry was awake.

Debbie couldn't move her feet.

Barry was awake.

He was trying to speak. The sounds were incoherent brain damage, perhaps, or lack of practice. Perhaps just a dry mouth.

Debbie made her decision, and stepped into the room.

'Barry,' she said, ever so softly.

He looked round at her, recognised her.

Then the older doctor turned around, and she recognised him.

Sallak.

He was five years older than the man whom she'd seen gun down Miranda's mother, the man who had stood in the dock and pleaded guilty, without an ounce of emotion. His face was a little more lined, his short hair was thinner.

'Mrs Castle... Debbie. You came,' the Deputy said, and it was clear from his voice that he had expected nothing else.

Debbie had to get help. She turned on her heel and came face to face with a young man with spiky blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a glossy black suit, and carried a small object that didn't quite look like a pistol.

'Stay where you are,' he recommended. 'We want you to see this.'

He closed the door, leaned against it so no one else could get in.

The Deputy turned back to Barry.

'Do you know who I am?' he asked.