Doctor Who_ Dominion Part 6

They entered the woods. Fitz looked out of the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the TARDIS. But the fir trees grew too close together it was impossible to see further than a few yards.

They bounced and b.u.mped for a mile or so, and then stopped as a white-s.h.i.+rted officer waved them down. They parked next to a police van. Nordenstam undid his seatbelt and got out.

Fitz fiddled with his seatbelt, listening to Nordenstam's urgent voice. Looking out of the window, he saw that the officer was the same one they'd met in the police station earlier: Hansson. He looked practically beside himself.

By the time Fitz had extricated himself from the seat belt, Nordenstam and Hansson were already striding into the forest. Fitz ran to catch up and followed as they crashed through the undergrowth.

Presently they came to the edge of a large clearing, about the size of a tennis court. Yellow police tape had been attached to the trees at the edge of the clearing, forming a makes.h.i.+ft arena. White-s.h.i.+rted officers were searching the undergrowth beyond.

'That's it,' said Hansson, pointing at the thing in the middle of the clearing.

Nordenstam stood with his hands on his hips, beads of sweat s.h.i.+ning on his forehead. 'What the h.e.l.l is that?' he whispered.

Fitz couldn't quite make out what it was. The central ma.s.s was a bright, vibrant life-jacketorange, an hourgla.s.s-shape with open ends, about the size of a large van. Various fleshy tentacles and tubes trailed out of the bowl-shaped ends. At first glance Fitz thought it was a giant flower or fungus. Then he noticed that radiating out from the waist of the hourgla.s.s were six long, jointed, black legs, splayed and crooked in the undergrowth.

He became aware that both Nordenstam and Hansson were looking at him expectantly.

'You're the expert,' said Nordenstam. 'Or so you would have us believe. So tell me, Mr Kreiner, what exactly is that thing?'

Fitz had absolutely no idea. Where was the Doctor when you needed him? 'I'll have to go in for a closer look.' He ducked under the police tape, and walked up to the thing. Those legs were as thick as a man's arm and ten feet long. They ended in sharp six-pointed claws. On some of the tree trunks were deep gouges, where the creature must have flailed at them. In attack? Defence? Or just dying spasms? Fitz gingerly touched one of the legs. The edge was razor sharp and he drew his hand away hastily.

The central body was fleshy, rubbery, bent and buckled out of shape. Fitz's shoes were sticking to the forest floor there was a clear liquid everywhere. It smelled pungent, like a bouquet of flowers thrust under the nose a sickly, sweet smell which made Fitz gag.

Having seen enough, he walked back to Nordenstam and Hansson. What was he going to say? This was surely the acid test.

'Well, what do you think?' said Nordenstam, looking at Fitz expectantly.

'It's definitely alien,' said Fitz. 'But it's not like any species I have seen before.'

Hansson's eyes were boggling. 'You mean, not of this world?'

Fitz nodded. 'Yeah,' he said casually. 'All in a day's work for us UNIT chaps.'

Nordenstam sighed, evidently disappointed in Fitz.

The sound of an engine. Fitz looked back towards the road. Nordenstam's vehicle and the police van were just about visible through the trees. Pulling up next to them was a large, white, windowless van. At first Fitz thought nothing more of this, thinking it was another police truck, until he realised Nordenstam and Hansson were staring as well. A door opened in the back and figures in bulky white suits stepped out. There were about a dozen of them and they were carrying guns.

'More police, right?' said Fitz hopefully.

Nordenstam was frowning. 'No.'

The figures were getting closer, fanning out.

They wore all-enclosing suits of a s.h.i.+ny white material, the heads encased in silver helmets with inverted triangular faceplates. They were rounding up Nordenstam's men, sending them back to the police truck.

Nordenstam swore. He said something in Swedish and marched up to the leader of the strange figures.

'What's he saying?' Fitz whispered to Hansson.

There were about three guns machine guns, Fitz noted with dread trained on Nordenstam.

Hansson's eyes were wide with fear. 'He's telling them what an outrage this is and demanding to know who the h.e.l.l they are.'

Great. It was fine to be righteously outraged, but not when someone was pointing a gun at you.

Fitz ran up to where Nordenstam was standing. He hoped the guys in suits could speak English. 'Hey, wait, I'm sure there's a peaceful way we can sort this out,' he said, aware that this was exactly what the Doctor would say.

The figure confronting Nordenstam spoke, his voice amplified through a grille below the triangular faceplate. 'You must leave the area. We are the State Biohazard Protection Unit. This is the site of an accident involving cla.s.sified material. Please leave the area.'

All of Nordenstam's men were now being shepherded into the police van. Hansson, looking scared, complied with their request but Nordenstam stood his ground. 'State Biohazard Protection Unit?' He folded his arms. 'Well, I'm Inspector Nordenstam of the State Criminal Investigations Department and I have never heard of you.' His voice was shaking with anger. He gestured to Fitz. 'Perhaps, Mr Kreiner, this is something to do with you.'

Fitz saw a way out. 'I think it's best if we do as they say, Inspector could be dangerous to stay around here.' Nordenstam was quivering with indignation. 'We leave, then but this is not the end of the matter.'

Nordenstam shoved past the figures, who stood aside. Fitz followed, his limbs moving jerkily, anxious to be away from these impa.s.sive figures, away from the machine guns.

Nordenstam got into his vehicle and slammed the door. He waited until the police van had left, and then started the engine.

Fitz looked back into the wood. The State Biohazard Protection Unit were standing like sentinels, guns held across their chests, watching as they drove away.

They drove in silence, Nordenstam uttering the occasional curse. Fitz could hardly blame him. Mysterious disappearances, alien creatures, and now interference by the government, so it seemed. Things were getting complicated. Out of control.

He had to find the Doctor. If the dead thing in the forest was the vanguard of an alien invasion, if there was a cover-up going on, if they had any chance of finding Sam, they had better stick together. Perhaps he should get out, go back to the TARDIS, see if the Doctor was there.

Then, suddenly, something white stumbled from the woods into the road in front of them.

'Look out!' yelled Fitz, and Nordenstam swerved just in time to avoid the man in the middle of the road.

Nordenstam brought the vehicle to a hasty stop and they both leapt out.

The man, who was totally naked and streaked with dirt, was walking away from them, swaying from side to side, oblivious to everything around him.

They ran to catch up with him. It wasn't difficult. He seemed to be operating at the extremes of exhaustion. As he saw them approach he went to run, but tripped over and fell, sprawling on the road. He just lay there, face down, screaming and scrabbling at the dried mud.

Fitz bent down and touched him on the shoulders, but he writhed away, yelling incoherent words. Yeuch. He stank: the same overpowering scent as the dead thing.

The man rolled over. His face was a grimace, a knot of pain and terror. He was younger than Fitz, with blue eyes and black hair. The hair was plastered to his head and the eyes were crazed, unseeing.

Fitz felt a rising sense of panic. What could they do? He remembered Nordenstam's little cordless phone. 'Call an ambulance!'

Nordenstam shook his head. 'There's no time. We'll have to take him.'

The man's struggles ceased and he lay still, taking ragged breaths. Nordenstam crouched down beside him. 'He's in a state of shock.'

Fitz leaned back on his haunches, wiping sweat from his forehead. 'Is this one of the people who vanished?'

Nordenstam's face was grim. 'Yes.' He looked at Fitz gravely. 'And, if the ident photo is anything to go by, this is Johan Svensson. Miss Bergman's boyfriend.'

Kerstin felt as though she'd been given a second chance. Johan was alive. Alive, but still distant; drugged, tended by nurses and machines. But at least he was here. Kerstin rested her forehead against the gla.s.s window. There wasn't much of him visible. Just his closed eyes, the lids twitching every now and then; his black hair, his nose, a saline drip snaking into the right nostril. The sheets were pulled right up under his chin. His bed was surrounded by monitoring machines, their LED read-outs blinking silently.

Kerstin felt a numbness inside, broken up by occasional pangs of irrational anger. Why did they have to sedate him? She wanted to talk to him but so did the police. They were waiting, in a room further along the corridor. Waiting to interview him, find out what had happened to him. Right now, Kerstin didn't care. Johan was back, and that was all that mattered to her.

She heard footsteps approaching and turned. A stout, white-coated doctor was walking towards her, Inspector Nordenstam beside him.

'This is Dr Lindgard,' said Nordenstam. 'He'll be taking care of Johan until he recovers.'

Dr Lindgard had a bland, flat face with a wide mouth and a slightly retrousse nose, which made him look pugnacious and uncompromising. He wore steel-rimmed gla.s.ses and his receding blond hair was neatly trimmed. He spoke in a monotonous, bored-sounding voice.

'We have carried out blood and saliva tests and will be carrying out other tests, but apart from shock, abdominal bruising, minor lacerations to the gluteus maximus... er, the b.u.t.tock, there does not appear to be anything wrong with him.'

Kerstin let out a huge sigh, and felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest.

'When will he come round?' asked Nordenstam.

'The sedatives should wear off in a few hours,' said Lindgard. 'We'll see then if he requires any more.'

Nordenstam looked at Kerstin. 'You do realise that when he comes round, if he is fit, I will need to question him?'

Kerstin nodded.

Nordenstam gazed at Johan's still form. 'And then we'll have some answers, at last.'

Kerstin felt a flash of anger. To them, Johan wasn't a person: he was a slab of meat, a statistic, a vital clue. Not a living, breathing person.

'That's all he is to you, isn't it?' she found herself saying, her voice sounding shaky and loud. 'Just something to help you solve your case.'

Nordenstam sighed. 'Miss Bergman, there are still five people missing six, including the Doctor's friend. I'm sorry if I sound callous, but whatever Johan tells us could be vital.'

'Sorry,' said Kerstin, aware of how childish she sounded. 'It's just...'

He put a hand on her shoulder. It was heavy and warm. Kerstin was instantly reminded of her father. Emotions curdled within her and she began to cry.

Just then the doors at the end of the corridor burst open and two figures entered, walking quickly along the corridor. One of them was that Doctor guy that Bjorn had said was weird weird, but harmless. The other was the s.h.i.+fty-looking guy who Nordenstam had said was a UN operative. The one who'd been with Nordenstam when they found Johan.

'h.e.l.lo,' said the Doctor. 'I'm the Doctor and this is Fitz.' His voice was cultured, and he spoke English.

Fitz's eyes met Kerstin's. They were big and grey. She wanted to thank him for finding Johan, but the words wouldn't come.

The Doctor's face was a mask of concern, real concern, not professional interest. 'Is Johan all right?'

Dr Lindgard coughed self-importantly, then spoke in English. 'Mr Svensson is stable.'

'Good,' said the Doctor. He looked over at Kerstin. 'Do you mind if I have a quick look at him?'

Kerstin blinked. 'OK.'

Lindgard stepped in front of the door that led into the isolation ward. 'I cannot allow that.'

'I've studied under Hippocrates himself,' said the Doctor. 'Surely you can let me examine the patient.'

Lindgard frowned and gave a curt shake of the head. 'You may not.'

Nordenstam spoke up. 'I think we should allow the Doctor to examine Johan.'

'So do I,' added Fitz, but Kerstin got the impression it was just for something to say, to make his presence felt.

'As long as the patient remains in this infirmary, I am in charge,' said Lindgard.

The Doctor dodged past Lindgard, opened the door and was in the isolation ward before anyone could stop him.

Kerstin followed, her heartbeat quickening. She wanted to reach out, to touch Johan, but something made her hold back.

The Doctor straightened up as Lindgard approached. 'Just having a quick look.'

Lindgard bustled them all out of the room. Kerstin noticed the Doctor give a sly wink at Fitz.

'I think you should all leave now,' said Lindgard.

There was no way she was going to leave, not now Johan was back, and safe if not exactly sound. Whatever happened now, she wanted to be the first to know. 'I'm staying here.'

Lindgard shrugged. 'It's up to you, but I can a.s.sure you his condition won't change for hours.'

Nordenstam looked concerned. 'Someone ought to stay with her. I could post an officer.'

Fitz and the Doctor exchanged glances. 'Number sixty-three?' said the Doctor.'

'You what?' said Fitz.

The Doctor winced, and then smiled, glancing around quickly at everyone and sliding an arm around Fitz's shoulder. 'Quick conference with my fellow UNIT operative.' He drew Fitz aside.

Lindgard looked at Nordenstam over his gla.s.ses. 'This Doctor, Inspector. How did you meet him?'

Nordenstam scratched his chin. 'Turned up outside the station. He's from something called UNIT.'

'UNIT.' Lindgard smiled. 'Of course.'

Kerstin slipped away from them, towards where the Doctor and Fitz were urgently talking, so she could overhear what they were saying.

What she overheard made no sense whatsoever.

'...back to the TARDIS. See if she's recovered. And you stay with Kerstin; I'll be back here as soon as I can.'

She went back to Lindgard and Nordenstam, who were debating the authenticity of the Doctor's credentials.

Nordenstam looked deeply pained. 'How come you've heard of UNIT and I have not?'

Lindgard shrugged. 'I've worked abroad. Africa, America. They have operatives everywhere.'