System Shock Part 4

The sirens started screaming almost as soon as they left the pub. The Doctor and Sarah watched as first a police car, then an ambulance screeched past. The vehicles took the corner ahead with a squeal of brakes and tyres, then the sirens cut out.

Whatever was happening was just around the corner. The Doctor and Sarah ran towards the end of the block.

The police car had climbed the pavement so that it was at an angle. The ambulance was slewed to a halt beside it. Men and women in uniforms were running about, the centre of attention a huddled shape lying by the side of the road.

The Doctor pushed his way through the a.s.sembled people, Sarah following in his wake. The dark shape in the road was the body of a man. One of the ambulance men was kneeling beside it. The corpse's head was twisted round at an odd angle, facing away from Sarah as if he was craning to see what was going on behind him.

'Excuse me, sir.' The policeman took the Doctor's shoulder firmly. 'If you could keep out of the way we'll be able to get on a lot better.' The Doctor looked him full in the face. 'I'm sure you understand, sir.'

'Indeed I do. Perhaps I can help I'm a doctor.'

The policeman considered for a moment, catching sight of the Doctor's outrageous attire in the strobed light. Then he stepped out of the way. 'I think he's beyond help, sir. But by all means have a look.'

The Doctor knelt beside the body. The ambulance man shook his head.

'I'm with the Doctor,' Sarah told the policeman. But he did not reply. He was watching the Doctor gently lift the dead 37 man's head and rotate it slightly. Then he felt for a pulse in the man's left wrist, frowned, and examined the hand and forearm more closely. Then he checked the other hand and wrist. The ends of the fingers seemed to be stained with a dark, viscous substance. The Doctor sniffed at it, then shrugged. He let the hand and arm flop back down.

All the while the emergency lights played along the boards concealing the construction site beside the road. From behind them a dog began to bark, then another joined it. The policeman who had spoken to the Doctor went over and shouted at the dogs to shut up, banging on the boards with his fist. There was a clatter as the door swung to and fro and he jumped.

The Doctor stood up, shaking his head. The ambulance man mirrored him a moment later.

'Did he fall?' Sarah asked.

'Where from?' asked the ambulance man. 'He'd have to fall a long way to break his neck like that.'

The Doctor nodded. 'His neck was twisted till the bone snapped.'

'Hit and run?' Sarah wondered.

The Doctor shook his head. 'He's got no other injuries.' He pushed his hat back on his head as if coming to a decision. 'I think he was murdered.'

'Murdered?' The policeman was back. His colleagues were busy cordoning off the area, but he had heard the Doctor's words. 'Anything to do with this, do you think?' He held something up. As the light flashed across it they could see it was a heavy metal clasp, bent at one end. A small piece of splintered wood hung from one end, a battered padlock from the other.

'Possibly. He used to have a watch. You can see the impression on the wrist where the strap was. You haven't found it by any chance, officer?'

'They'll kill for a pocketful of loose change these days,' the policeman snorted as he shook his head.

'Who will?'

38.'Well, if we knew that, miss, things'd be a lot easier.' He strode off towards the squad car, calling out to a colleague on the way to call in for backup and establish a scene of crime.

'Come along, Sarah.' The Doctor led her through the cordon of candy-striped tape fluttering in the breeze, past the emergency vehicles.

'What happened to him?' she asked when they were out of earshot.

'I don't know. But something broke his neck twisted it like a dry stick until ...' He snapped his fingers sharply and Sarah grimaced.

They walked on in silence for a while, skirting round the building site on their way back towards the TARDIS. 'Did you recognize him?' the Doctor asked after a while.

'I hardly saw him.' The ambulance man and the Doctor had obscured her view and the face had been pointing away from her. 'Did you?'

'Oh yes.' He seemed loath to explain any further. Instead he stopped suddenly in his tracks and bent down. Almost immediately he stood up again. He was holding a watch. Its digital display clicked forward a minute as they looked at it.

'Are all the watches like that now?' Sarah asked, leaning over the Doctor's arm to get a closer view. 'Ugly, isn't it?'

He did not answer, but turned slightly so she could no longer see. 'Intriguing,' said the Doctor at last, and stuffed the watch into his pocket.

'So who was he?'

'He was the man from the pub.'

'The man who b.u.mped into you?'

The Doctor nodded. 'More importantly than that, the man who was running running for his life we now know. And the man who put this in my pocket as he pushed past.' He held up the CD for a second, then it disappeared into his coat again.

'The woman?'

'Maybe.' They walked on, turning into another street. 'But she'd have to be stronger than she looked. Much stronger.'

Sarah was not convinced. 'Perhaps she was trained in unarmed combat, or maybe she had hit him with something.'

39.'Sarah,' the Doctor said, 'whoever it was whatever it was didn't just break his neck. They crushed the bones almost to powder.' He let the words sink in. They were back at The The Green Man Green Man.

'But what could do that?'

'I don't know. But I intend to find out.'

The Doctor pushed open the door and strode into the pub.

They sat back at the same table. This time Sarah sipped at a brandy and the Doctor stared unenthusiastically at a pint of Old Old Gavelblaster Gavelblaster. He had studiously avoided taking a drink so far, diverting their attention from the gla.s.s by giving Sarah a quick potted history of the compact disc revolution.

'So why have we come back here?' Sarah asked. 'Just so I can hear the high-quality digital juke box?'

'Not entirely,' the Doctor admitted. He picked up his gla.s.s, brought it almost to his lips, and then set it back on the table.

Instead of drinking, he answered Sarah's question.

She did not feel any better for knowing the answer. The Doctor had been quick to dismiss any a.s.sumption that it was for Sarah's own benefit that she needed a drink after the shock. Instead he went through a tortuous chain of near-logic which boiled down to a guess that whoever or whatever had killed the man was after the CD, and would therefore come back to the pub to find it.

'My money's on the woman,' Sarah told him.

'Mine too.'

'So what do we do if she comes back?'

' When When she comes back,' the Doctor corrected her, 'we help her look for it.' she comes back,' the Doctor corrected her, 'we help her look for it.'

Sarah took another mouthful of brandy. 'And then what?'

'Ah,' the Doctor took his first gulp of beer. 'Then we shall see.'

Stabfield had been preparing to leave the s.h.i.+ps, docked together into a single unit in powered geostationary orbit round the earth, when Lewis's call came through.

Stabfield had been feeling quite pleased. He had just arranged to pay a left wing terrorist group for services rendered. He had left a message for them in an unused 40 voicemail box belonging to a large American corporation who probably didn't even realize their computer-controlled telephone network could be hacked. The terrorists could collect the message at their leisure simply by calling the corporation and dialling into the voicemail system. The message would wait for ever, and even if it was found it could never be traced back to the originator. It was the sort of ordered, efficient neatness that Stabfield appreciated. A perfect solution executed at someone else's expense and risk.

Then he took the call from Lewis.

The problem was not in replacing the CD that was easily done, they had a backup of the gold code. What was rather more important was to ensure that the original did not fall into the wrong hands. He demanded a full risk a.s.sessment and problem a.n.a.lysis, and told Lewis to get the original back.

'I'll send Johanna now,' Lewis said. His voice was quieter than usual dulled by the reprimand. 'We have the data from the tracer, so we know where he went. It must be somewhere along the route.'

'Obviously,' Stabfield hissed. 'So get off the dime, and on the case.' He could see Johanna at the edge of his screen as she left on her errand quiet, without complaint. If only Lewis were as coolly efficient, but he had been augmented too much, would never make a real leader despite his aspirations. Stabfield would have to break it to him at his next appraisal and a.s.sessment review.

On his way back to the shuttle bay, Stabfield calmed down a little. The loss of the disc was unfortunate, but probably would not negatively impact the project. Lewis would do everything possible to recover it he was certainly capable as far as staffwork went. And Johanna was as cold and efficient as an ice-pick.

Lewis cut the link with a snarl. It was always the same with Stabfield underneath the famous stoic exterior he was frightened and nervous, always about to lose his temper. And when he did there was much sound and fury. He was surprised none of the human employees had disseminated information to 41 the press about their managing director who was, according to press speculation, the fifth richest man in the world.

Lewis was increasingly aware of a deep empty feeling from his stomach he could not ignore it for much longer. In his desk drawer was the vacuum-packed cheese sandwich he had bought at lunchtime. He had been hungry then, but had managed to fight off the inconvenient pains until now.

He pulled at the loose end of the cellophane cover, his mouth clamped hard shut and his eyebrows heavy with concentration and distaste. He could already smell the food.

His hand shook so much that slivers of grated cheddar slipped from between the bread and snowed on to his desk. He licked his dry lips, and tentatively pushed a triangular corner of sandwich into his mouth, tore it away from the main body, and swallowed it with a gulp. At once he felt sick, nauseous. He choked down the rest of the sandwich, gagging at each mouthful. Then shaking with frustration, anger and fear he slumped back into the soft upholstery of the chair.

'You know, this really isn't at all bad.' Somehow the Doctor was on to his third pint of beer, while Sarah was still sipping nervously at her first brandy. She suspected he had bought her at least a double, but even so she was able to find solace in that it was only her first.

'Shhhhh!'

For a second Sarah thought the Doctor had choked on his drink. But he was not doubling up, rather leaning across the table to whisper noisily at her. 'Here she is. Don't look.'

Sarah instinctively made to turn, but he grabbed her shoulder and spun her back to face him.

'I said don't look.' After a few moments he released his grip.

'All right you can look now.'

Sarah turned slowly, trying to make it look casual and natural, but feeling it was quite the opposite. She surveyed the lounge bar, glancing round each table and along the bar.

Eventually she saw the woman, by the cigarette machine. The machine was set at eye level on the wall, and she was running her hand along the top of it. n.o.body else in the pub seemed particularly interested. Most of the people who had been there 42 when she first visited had moved on and others had taken their places. Those few who remained were beyond noticing or caring, deep into conversations, relations.h.i.+ps and drinks.

'She's looking for the CD thing,' Sarah said quietly.

The Doctor nodded. 'Nothing but dust and ash up there.' He gestured with a nod of his head as she moved on towards the bar, lifting a coat from where it lay draped over a stool on the way. She shook it gently, then when nothing fell out she moved on. 'Notice how she's retracing our poor friend's path at least, as far as she knows it.'

'So what do we do?'

'We help her,' the Doctor said with a huge grin. 'Or at least, I do. You stay in the background see if anyone else is with her, shadowing.' He wrapped his scarf once more round his neck, then took a gulp of beer, leaped to his feet, and set off across the bar. Sarah moved over to a nearer table as the couple who were there finished their drinks and left.

The woman was at the bar now, her eyes scanning along the damp surface then back across the shelves behind. The Doctor was standing behind her, hands thrust into his trouser pockets, leaning forward and watching her.

The spotty young barman caught the woman by surprise: 'Yes, Miss?'

She recovered in an instant. 'I wonder if you could help me with a problem. A friend of mine was in earlier. He was a bit the worse for wear and left something behind a compact disc.

Perhaps it's been handed in?'

The barman looked dubious. 'Don't think so. Haven't seen it about. I'll ask the others if you like?'

'Oh would you? How kind.' Her smile was silky innocence even from where Sarah sat. The Doctor frowned and curled his mouth downwards at the edges, clearly unimpressed. The barman, by contrast, looked like he had just won publican of the year. The fact was not lost on the woman, who followed up quickly: 'Of course, he may have handed it in himself left it for someone to collect. He was in such a state. It is very important.'

Suddenly the Doctor was by her side, hand on her shoulder, eyes popping. 'Ah in that case we must find it.' The woman 43 took a step away from him, managing to shake loose the hand.

But the Doctor continued unabashed, his deep voice rising in volume so that it carried clearly across the room. 'A CD, you say? A last present from his poor dying grandmother, no doubt.

It usually is.'

'Something like that.' The woman was looking round, not embarra.s.sed, but unsettled. Conversations were stopping and heads were turning towards her. Sarah imagined she had wanted to avoid being noticed.

But the Doctor was only just beginning. 'Then we must search the pub. Leave no drip mat unturned, raid the juke box, check the cigarette machine.'

The woman turned sharply at the last comment, her eyes narrowing as she watched the Doctor start issuing orders. In a moment he had the barman clearing the mats from the bar, an old man and his wife feeling along the top of the cigarette machine, and just about everyone else s.h.i.+fting coats, stools, tables. One over-enthusiastic drunk started peeling wallpaper from a corner of the room, only to find himself bundled outside by one of the staff.

Sarah made herself busy with the others, trying to keep close to the Doctor and the woman without appearing too interested.

'Is it in a box?' a man asked as he pa.s.sed them.

'No,' the woman said. 'Well, probably not.'

A young man and woman raised their attention from the floor by the food servery for a moment to call 'What's on it?'

The woman ignored them, though Sarah could tell from the flick of her eyes in their direction that she had heard. The Doctor could tell too. 'That's a very good question,' he said.

'And extremely useful information.' The couple smiled at their own cleverness. The Doctor clapped his hands together like a whip cracking, and everyone stopped and turned towards him.

'Right everyone, this lady is now going to tell us what is on the CD.'

There were general mutters of interest and everyone crowded a little closer to the bar to hear.

She did not answer for a while, people started shuffling their feet impatiently. 'Nothing,' the woman eventually said.

44.'Nothing?' The Doctor's eyebrows arched upwards and he stepped back in theatrical surprise.

'Nothing printed on it, that is.' Sarah could see her eyes darting round the room, as if looking for a way out. 'It was made specially. It is unique.'

'I see. What a shame, then, that we haven't found it.' The Doctor paced up and down in front of the bar, all eyes still on him. He stopped in mid-pace and swung round. 'I know we could have a whip-round and get your friend another one.' He nodded to himself, apparently pleased with the notion. 'Just tell us what was on it, and I can have another one made I'm really rather good at arranging that sort of thing.'

'I'm sorry.' The woman met the Doctor's unblinking stare. 'It wouldn't be the same.'