Doctor Who_ Ultimate Treasure Part 16

It was almost fully dark when they reached the nearest of the larger islands, and they covered the last part of the way by torchlight. The ground rose slightly and the mud gave way to a narrow beach, fringed by small twisted trees and giant ferns similar to those on the other side of the mist valley. A little way along the scalloped sh.o.r.e was the first of a small cl.u.s.ter of structures they had seen from the cliff edge.

As they made a cautious approach they saw that the buildings were roughly made of poles, lashed together with vines and panelled with woven mats of reed. Feeble flickers of firelight shone out of unglazed windows, somehow failing to cast any cheer on the dismal scene.

They smelled woodsmoke and food cooking and the stench of rotting fruit. A few s.n.a.t.c.hes of desultory conversation floated out into the still air.

They reached the door of the largest of the shacks, closed only by a hanging rush curtain. Thorrin straightened himself up, checked his gun was lose in its holster, brushed the curtain aside and stepped within. The others followed.

Five men and two women of three different species were sprawled on pallets of leaves and rush mats around the walls. A fire burnt in a stone grate in the centre of the room, the smoke simply escaping through a hole in the roof. The rest of the interior was bare, except for a stack of bowl-sized nutsh.e.l.l halves in one corner and a pile of rags in the other. The occupants, who, Myra now saw through the thin haze of smoke, were dressed in patched and faded clothes in varying degrees of decrepitude, looked up listlessly as they entered. But they merely let their gaze pa.s.s over them before dropping back to stare into the depths of the fire once more. None spoke a word of welcome or acknowledgement to the newcomers.

'How now, my fine fellows.' said Falstaff after an awkward silence.

'Not a single hail to greet Old Jack?'

One of the men grunted. Another turned to face the wall and pulled a matt blanket over him. Myra felt a s.h.i.+ver of disquiet. This was somehow more frightening than the creatures in the valley.

'I'm Alexander Thorrin,' the professor announced loudly. 'My colleagues and I are following the path to Rovan's treasure. Can you tell us which way to go from here?'

One of the women grunted without looking up. 'Idiot,' she said. 'We know what you are.'

One of the men mumbled, 'Turn back now, if you know what's good for you.'

Myra knelt down beside the nearest and shook him.

'Can you hear me? My name is Myra Jaharnus. Who are you? how did you get here?'

The man seemed to make a supreme effort, mumbling something that might have been a name, then: ...same way you did, of course...'

Then he rolled away from her with his back to the fire and appeared to go to sleep.

'Are they sick?'Arnella wondered anxiously.

'Only sick at heart,' Falstaff said, with sudden unexpected perception. 'Their spirits are crushed. They have given up.'

'You mean... they were seekers?' said Brockwell. 'That man on the islet as well?'

'How else could they have all come to be here?' Falstaff said simply.

They looked at each other in dismay. Even Thorrin and the Marquis seemed subdued. Silently they left the shack, its occupants paying as little attention to their going as they had their arrival. As they walked away a ragged woman emerged from the next hut along. She glanced at them briefly with the same dull eyes and lack of interest as the others, then shuffled off towards the nearest line of bushes, undoing her belt as she went.

'It's too dark to go any further tonight,' said Thorrin, after they had gone a little way along the sh.o.r.e. 'We'd better camp here. I don't think those people will give us any trouble.'

'They seem barely capable of caring for themselves,' the Marquis said. 'How can thinking beings be reduced to such a state? Or are they all cowards with no backbone? Shalvis said there had been many seekers after the treasure over the years. Perhaps this is where some end up.'

'You don't suppose there might be a physical cause?' said Brockwell. 'Something in the food or water here that induces a state of extreme lethargy?'

Thorrin frowned. 'Mmm. It's possible, I suppose. To be safe we won't touch anything here. Our rations will last us for some days yet, if need be.'

'But can't we do anything for them?' Arnella asked. 'Make some tests, or something?'

'We cannot spare the time,' said her uncle flatly. This is not a medical mercy mission.'

'Whatever they are suffering from they must have brought upon themselves,' Thorrin pointed out. 'If those other islands are inhabited like this one, there must be a few hundred people here at least. They cannot all have arrived at once, therefore the later arrivals must have seen what we have. If they did not take sensible precautions in time, that's their own fault.'

Myra thought his att.i.tude was rather callous, but didn't feel like arguing the point. They made camp along the sh.o.r.e out of sight of the shacks. As soon as they had eaten they crawled gratefully into the big tent and closed it against the air of gloom that hung so heavily over the island.

From a tiny cl.u.s.ter of rocks a little way out into the mud flats, Qwaid watched the large island through his night-sight binoculars until the bright spark of Thorrin's campfire was extinguished. Then he slithered back down to the hollow, where they had made their own camp.

'Right, they won't be going anywhere till morning. And when they do, we'll be right on their heels.'

'You don't suppose they've found the treasure?' Drorgon said dismally.

'No, 'cos we'd have heard them celebrating even out here if they had.' He jerked a thumb at their attendant DAVE drone: And Dynes would be interviewing us about how it feels to miss out. Now get some sleep. You too, Doc.'

'Actually I don't sleep very much.'

'Suit yourself.' Qwaid pulled his thermal blanket up. 'Just don't try to sneak off, or anything. If Gribbs don't hear from me regularly, saying the right words, you know what's going to happen to your friend. It would be a shame to mess up such a pretty piece as her.'

For a moment the light of their fire glinted dangerously from the Doctor's eyes, and it occurred to Qwaid that here was a man who could be pushed only so far.

'Oh, you can be sure I won't forget that,' he said coldly.

Peri tossed and turned in her narrow bunk on board the Falcon Falcon, unable to sleep. Now that her fear of Gribbs had been checked, at least for the time being, she was beginning to feel angry with herself.

Why had she been so keen to come along? And to have dragged the Doctor into trouble as well was dumb stupid, she told herself scathingly. Of course she'd always longed for excitement and adventure, but this was not quite what she had bargained for. Were suffering and danger inseparable adjuncts to any adventure, she wondered.

All right. She'd just have to master her feelings and try to keep a clear head, and be ready to act when the time came. She was no superhero and was not sure how much physical violence she could inflict on anyone, however deserving. But if the opportunity arose, she would force herself to hit Gribbs over the head with the nearest blunt object. Dynes too for that matter - preferably with one of his own cameras.

Out on the fringe of the Gelsandoran system the fabric of s.p.a.ce rippled.

The grey cabinet that had been Alpha's strongbox emerged from the discontinuity of hypers.p.a.ce. For some minutes it flew on freely, sensors scanning busily. Then thrusters flared to adjust its course and it headed towards the inner system.

CHAPTER 15.

DESPAIR.

The morning light was grey and washed out, with that secondhand quality to it that Myra always found uninspiring.

The air was heavy and the sun, though rising in a virtually cloudless sky, was filtered by a thin haze that hung over the waterlands, giving It a muggy dankness. Though she'd slept through the night she still felt tired and her legs ached from yesterday's climb. It was a small consolation that the rest were apparently no better, yawning in each other's face and responding in grumpy monosyllables. Even Falstaff seemed to be unusually muted, neither complaining nor boasting, and they breakfasted in almost total silence. Finally Thorrin appeared to rise above the general malaise and spoke at some length.

'I think it might be useful to spend a few hours here before we start off again. These people may know something about the conditions that lie ahead of us. I know that they were unresponsive last night, but perhaps those we saw were not typical specimens. They may also have been put off by our numbers. So I propose the Marquis and I question them alone.'

They all nodded and murmured ascent at this. Myra was grateful. She didn't feel up to starting another day's trek at that moment. The rigours of the valley and the ascent up the cliff must have taken more out of her than she had thought. When the meal was concluded, Thorrin and Rosscarrino plodded away towards the settlement. Falstaff sprawled like a beached whale on the sand, while Brockwell slowly began to pack away the camping gear.

Arnella rubbed her eyes lazily. 'I wish I could wake up properly.'

'Me too,' agreed Myra. 'Perhaps a swim might help - or maybe you'd rather not.'

Arnella managed a wry smile. 'Just as long as I can see the bottom, and we don't share the water with anything dangerous...'

She paused, frowning. 'Have I thanked you yet for saving me yesterday?'

'Yes... I think so.'

They sat looking at each other stupidly for a moment, then Myra remembered. 'Shall we then?'

'What?'

'Swim.'

'Yes, of course.' Arnella took a deep breath. 'Anything to wake up.'

They set off in the opposite direction to the settlement. An outcrop of rock formed a tiny headland, and climbing this they found a sheltered cove on the far side, with a clear sandy bottom.

Myra tossed a few rocks in first to see if anything was lying concealed in the sand. Then they stripped off their clothes and plunged in.

The water was not as cold as Myra had hoped for, but it was better than nothing and helped revive her somewhat. She swam underwater for several minutes, poking around the rocks and startling a few small crablike animals into retreating into their burrows. She surfaced with a splash and returned to the sh.o.r.e propelled by sinuous flicks of her powerful tail.

Arnella was sitting half in the water, letting her legs trail idly.

Myra drew herself up beside her and they sat in silence for a long time, staring out at the glistening mud flats. A few wading birds were slowly pecking their way across the grey pools. Clumps of taller gra.s.ses stirred slightly in the light breeze. At least there didn't seem to be any particularly intrusive insect life here, she thought vaguely, though there did seem to be a low buzzing hum coming from somewhere. It took her a few moments to realise that Dynes's drone was hovering a few metres away, its lenses focused full upon them.

She blinked indignantly and nudged Arnella. 'Did you see that earlier? Has it been here all the time?'

Arnella gave a little start and fumbled about for her clothes to cover herself. But they were in a pile a few paces away, which seemed an immense distance in the heavy air, so she wrapped her arms about herself modestly instead and said, 'Go away!

that's not polite!' with as much indignation as she could muster.

The drone remained unresponsive. Arnella turned to Myra. 'Can't you arrest it... or something?' she muttered.

Myra shook her head slowly. 'It hasn't been here the whole time, has it? I mean, we wouldn't have just undressed in front of it like that if it had. She was troubled by the thought that the drone had followed them from the camp, but for some reason she hadn't taken in the implications. Or had she noticed but not cared? She couldn't remember. Come on, she was a trained detective, she shouldn't miss such things...

She saw Arnella look down at her arms - as though mildly puzzled as to why she was hugging them around her - let them slowly drop and sink down flat on the sand. The momentary distraction caused Myra to lose her train of thought. d.a.m.n! What had she been trying to work out? She sighed. The sand was soft enough. The sun wasn't too hot or too cold. She lay back. There was no hurry. Wait for Thorrin and the Marquis to get back from... wherever it was. In a minute she had quite forgotten about the faint hum of the drone.

In the Stop Press Stop Press, Dynes watched the sleeping figures curiously for several minutes, not in the least troubled by his invasion of their privacy, only deeply puzzled by their behaviour. It wasn't like Jaharnus to let it go so easily, nor for that matter a Rosscarrino. He sent the drone back to the camp. Falstaff was still sleeping, while Brockwell had finally packed most of the gear into the backpacks, and was now starting on the tent. Frowning, Dynes moved the drone closer. Brockwell was fiddling clumsily with the tent-frame release mechanism. After some moments he slowly sat back, pulled up his knees and rested his chin on them, apparently baffled by his task. Dynes peered more intently at the screen, then checked the monitor showing Qwaid's camp.

Just what was going on out there?

I.

It was mid-morning when Qwaid slowly lowered himself down to the camp hollow, yawning and blinking.

'Well, they're still there. Maybe they've found something.'

There was no response. Drorgon seemed to have fallen asleep again, while the Doctor was sprawled on his back resting his head on his interlaced fingers, with his hat draped over his face.

Qwaid looked at them in mild disgust. 'Hey, am I the only one who does any work around here?' He kicked Drorgon's slumbering form. 'Your turn on watch.' It took a second kick before Drorgon heaved himself to his feet, took the binoculars and made his way ponderously up the rocky slope. Qwaid sat down heavily. 'Might as well wait. Nothing else to do here.

Deadest place I ever saw. Give us a chance to get our strength back after all that climbing...'

There was a long silence. Then the Doctor slowly raised himself on one elbow and pushed his hat back, revealing a face creased with a frown. 'There was something... I think.'

Qwaid's head jerked up. He must have been dozing off. 'Eh...

what?'

'Something else you were going to do... no, something we both had to do.'

Qwaid blinked at him. 'Was there?'

'Yes, yes...' the Doctor screwed up his eyes in concentration.

'Peri... you were going to call up your s.h.i.+p and I was going to talk to Peri... like we agreed.'

Qwaid nodded and wagged a finger. 'That's sharp, Doc. Might have forgotten that otherwise. That's what an education does for you.'

laboriously he called up the s.h.i.+p. Gribbs's voice came on the line a little anxiously 'Are you OK, Qwaid? You're late. I was just going to call up myself.'

'Yeah, fine. Get the girl so's the Doc can hear she's all right...'

There was a minute's pause, during which Qwaid found himself sagging slowly back against a convenient rock, then Peri's voice came through.

'h.e.l.lo, Doctor. I'm bored but OK. At least Mr Gribbs has been minding his manners.'

Qwaid extended the communicator towards the Doctor, who blinked at it owlishly for a moment before replying, 'Good, Peri.

That's... urn, fine.'

'Doctor? Are you OK? You sound bushed.'

'Perhaps a little tired. We... er, did some climbing yesterday.'

Are you sure you didn't fall on your head?'

The Doctor managed a slight chuckle. 'No, no... nothing like that.'