Doctor Who_ Ultimate Treasure Part 21

Gribbs watched them set off from the cover of the trees.

He'd wasted several hours the previous night in a fruitless search before he realised where the girl might have gone. It had then taken him a while to get his own bearings and strike the parkland around the Gelsandoran town, before finding his way to the landing fields. He'd kept well clear of Dynes's s.h.i.+p, hoping not to pick up another camera drone. The lock of Thorrin's craft had defeated him. He'd need his full toolkit to crack it. That left the Doctor's s.h.i.+p. He'd found the right glade but had boggled at the odd box shape sitting in it. It had to be a shuttle pod; the main craft must still be in orbit. He would have investigated further but for the ma.s.sive and all too familiar form that lay beside it. He'd fingered the b.u.t.t of his pistol, but had decided not to risk taking his revenge just now. Besides, he wasn't sure his gun would be powerful enough to deal with something that size, and merely wounding it and making it angry hadn't seemed like a very sensible idea. And so he had waited for dawn.

Should he follow them, or find the Falcon Falcon and see if he could override the cut-offs Alpha had installed? How long could he pretend to Qwaid and the Doctor that the girl was still unconscious? and see if he could override the cut-offs Alpha had installed? How long could he pretend to Qwaid and the Doctor that the girl was still unconscious?

Then a flash of light caught his eye. A brilliant but slow meteor was cutting lazily through the still dark eastern sky. Even as he watched it with natural appreciation, he saw its nucleus grow brighter and its tail foreshorten.

Hey, this was a big one.

The tail vanished altogether and the nucleus appeared to become stationary in the sky, but growing steadily brighter.

Suddenly it seemed to be heading straight for him!

Gribbs threw himself to the ground. The meteor flashed dazzlingly overhead and vanished behind the trees. Any sound of impact was lost in the earsplitting sonic boom of its arrival, which hammered the earth under him, before climbing back up into the sky and gradually receding to a distant rumble.

Cautiously, when he was sure he was not going to be showered by impact debris, Gribbs picked himself up and looked about him, trying to work out where it had hit. Over he treetops he could just make out a thin thread of grey smoke rising to catch the first light of day.

He checked its bearing on his object compa.s.s still set on he Falcon's Falcon's signal. As far as he could estimate, the meteor had come down not far from the s.h.i.+p. It would be just his luck if it had been damaged by a freak chance like this. signal. As far as he could estimate, the meteor had come down not far from the s.h.i.+p. It would be just his luck if it had been damaged by a freak chance like this.

Anxiously he set off through the woods.

Myra saw the meteor from the dead forest as it cut its sparkling arc across half the dawn sky.

She was lying on her back staring up through the stark branches of a tree. Very slowly the events of the previous night fell into place, and with a sudden rush of horrified recollection she sat bolt upright. She was half clothed, filthy with mud and s.h.i.+vering with cold, but she was alive!

Fearfully she examined herself for any sign of disease lesions, but her skin was smooth and sound once more. Had it ever been otherwise? A nightmare - it had all been a nightmare! No, she corrected herself, something worse than that. It had to have been the Gelsandorans doing, playing on her greatest fear. Now, with her head clear, she remembered that sporiform necrosis took months to prove fatal, yet last night she had believed without question that it was spreading and killing her in minutes.

Suddenly she understood how the lost seekers had come to be on the mud flats, trapped between the nightmares of the forest and the monsters of the valley.

Her pack was still lying where she had cast it aside. With it and a pool of clean water she hastily made herself respectable once more. Then she set off to find the others.

Drorgon examined the muddy footmarks in the blackened ground.

'They all scatter here.' he pointed. 'Run in all directions. Which one we follow, Qwaid?'

Qwaid looked about at the charred swathe the fire had cut through the forest, then glanced at the Doctor. He had his hands in his pockets and was staring about keenly.

'Well, Doc? Any suggestions?'

'I'm afraid my boy scout spooring skills are somewhat rusty.

But it does occur to me that if a group of people have become separated in these conditions, they will try to find each other again by signalling in some way, so if we simply stay quiet and listen -'

A distant hail floated through the trees to them.

' - then we might learn where they are.'

Voices, which had so mysteriously failed to carry the night before, now enabled them, gradually, to rea.s.semble. n.o.body asked what they had each suffered, nor volunteered any details of their own, but Myra could read in their faces that it had been as bad for them as herself. Arnella fell sobbing unashamedly into her uncle's arms, while Brockwell looked at her with a very curious expression. Thorrin's face was haggard, and Myra thought his hair was actually greyer. They could feel the menace of the forest still pressing close about them, but it was bearable by daylight and in company.

Eventually only Falstaff was unaccounted for.

'We cannot afford to waste time in a search,' Thorrin said after they had called his name for some minutes. 'Either he'll follow our trail, or else return to his s.h.i.+p. He knows the hazards now, so he should be safe enough.'

The Marquis nodded in agreement. 'Yes, we must press on.'

Myra rounded upon them both angrily, 'How can you be so callous! Suppose he's trapped somewhere. I wouldn't leave a kazarn slime rat here for another night like that! We find him, however long it takes, Professor. Have a little patience for once!'

Unaccountably, Thorrin flinched, but said nothing.

Gribbs came upon the meteor crater before he reached the Falcon Falcon. It had landed within half a kilometre of the s.h.i.+p. The Impact had flattened a couple of trees and started a small gra.s.s fire, which was already dying down, but otherwise had done surprisingly little damage. The crater was only five metres across and very shallow. More like the blast pit of a rocket, Gribbs thought idly. Then he looked again. In the centre of the crater was a heap of blackened remains that he had first taken to be a burnt bush or shards of rock. But now he looked more closely he saw regular sharp edges to them, and here and there a glint of metal. Puzzled, he circled the still hot crater. There were strange regular marks running from its centre out across the charred earth and gra.s.s. At the point they left the crater he identified them. They were the tracks of a set of caterpillar treads.

Suddenly he began to wonder if it was really such an extraordinary chance that something had landed just where it had.

Pistol drawn, he followed the trail. When the tracks reached fresh gra.s.s the impressions remained clear. Through the trees ahead of him he saw a familiar form. It was the Falcon Falcon, resting on her landing legs amid a few torn branches and another swathe of blackened earth, but otherwise looking perfectly sound after her plunge from the sky. And the tracks led straight for her.

Gribbs made a cautious circuit of the s.h.i.+p, but there was no sign of movement. The track prints led up to the main hatch, he noticed, but did not return. The hatch itself was closed.

What should he do next? Qwaid should know somebody else, presumably more treasure seekers, had arrived here and were apparently using some sort of reconnaissance vehicle to spy out the land. But he wouldn't be pleased to learn it had somehow got aboard the Falcon Falcon, especially if he found out he'd been lying about the girl and so wasn't there to prevent it. On the other hand, how long could he afford to wait and do nothing?

Then the decision was made for him as the main hatch swung open.

'Don't skulk amongst the trees, Gribbs. Come inside, I want to talk to you,' Alpha's voice boomed from the darkness within.

For a moment Gribbs thought he was going to faint, and the world blurred around him while a sick knot began to tie itself in his stomach. Then he recovered, swallowing down hard.

'Do not keep me waiting, Gribbs.'

There was a slightly odd quality to the voice, but It definitely did not come from the cabin speaker. It was not a recording. It was Alpha.

'M-Mr Alpha, sir...' he called out tremulously. 'It was Qwaid's idea. Me and Drorgon had nothing to do with it, honest.'

'To do with what, Gribbs? You'd better come in and tell me all about it. In fact I want you to tell me everything that's been happening for the past few days, Gribbs. Every detail. Do you think you can do that?'

'Y-yes Mr Alpha... uh, you aren't angry with me?'

'That rather depends on what you've been doing, doesn't it?

But I will be angry if we continue this conversation in such a manner any longer, Gribbs. Come inside at once.'

Swaying like a man mounting the steps to the guillotine, Gribbs climbed the ramp and peered inside. The hatch closed smoothly behind him, not quite m.u.f.fling his involuntary cry of fear and amazement.

In the white pyramid, Shalvis lifted her head as she let her mental projection fade.

'Alpha has arrived as expected,' she announced to the a.s.sembled Seers.

'And our powers will not affect him?' one asked.

'No. In any case our trust is inviolate. We may not interfere directly. Evil though he is, Alpha has rights. He must be defeated within the laws of the quest. We can only hope that all else we foresaw also comes to pa.s.s.'

Falstaff was huddled in the hollow at the base of a tree. He stared at them blankly at first as Myra gently encouraged him to uncurl, and mutely accepted a drink from her flask and a ration bar. For some reason he kept pawing uneasily at the front of his jacket. Slowly, full awareness returned to his eyes.

'My,' he said shakily, 'but Old Jack's soul was put through the mangle last night and no mistake. Perhaps this was a step too far. I suggest a strategic retreat. I should never have ignored my own dictum: discretion is the better part of -'

'We've heard it,' Thorrin said sharply. 'But nonetheless we are going on. You can follow us or not as you wish.'

'Exactly,' said the Marquis, regarding Falstaff with a trace of contempt. 'Some of us have an obligation to fulfil -'

Arnella, who had been very quiet, suddenly said, 'Uncle please don't talk about obligations!' And she turned her back on him and stomped away.

Through the screen of trees they watched the other gang gradually a.s.semble itself and set off. Qwaid let them get safely ahead, noted the course they were following, then he Drorgon, and the Doctor moved on to a parallel path.

'Isn't it about time you called Gribbs?' the Doctor reminder him. 'I want to be sure Peri has recovered safely.'

Qwaid tapped the call b.u.t.ton. It took Gribbs a minute to answer, and when he came on the line there was a slightly forced tone in his response.

'Hi, Qwaid. Everything's fine here,'he said quickly. 'It had better be. What about the s.h.i.+p?'

'Oh, it's fine too. Came down on the emergency retros.

managed to get in and override the cutouts Mr Alpha had installed. It's all ready any time you need it. Soon as you find the treasure we'll be over to pick it up. Just give the word -'

'OK, OK. Now what about the girl? The Doc's worried about her.'

'Oh, she's fine...'

'Well put her on.'

'Er, right. Yes. I'll, er, just get her...'

There was a pause, then Peri's voice came over the line. 'Hi, Doctor. I'm fine, how are you?'

'Are you sure? You must have had quite a knock.'

'Just a bit of a headache. Mr Gribbs has been a perfect gentleman looking after me, but I think he's only going to stay that way as long as you keep helping Qwaid. So please find the treasure as soon as you can so I can get out of here.'

Red had found his way through the woods with little help from Peri. The misleading signposts were still blank, and she could only recall for certain a few of the turnings, but Red had bounded along with hardly a pause. She wondered if he had a better idea of where they were going than she did. Was he scenting their previous trail? Of course: this was his own back yard, so to speak, and a specially bred carriage animal, the product of exotic genetic engineering perhaps, might be created with the ability to find his way about with little or no guidance.

The wood thinned and then before them was the unreal expanse of the tiled plain. Peri scowled at the prospect of crossing it for the third time, but it had to be done.

'Now you've got to step carefully here,' she said firmly to Red, hoping her words or thoughts were getting through. 'We've got to find the right sequence of colours, otherwise the ground drops out from under your feet, and that's no fun, believe me.'

But even as she spoke she felt the pocketing around the stirrups contract up and around her feet and calves, holding them fast. 'Hey, what are you doing -' Simultaneously the saddle back and the pommel hoop hinged and slid forward respectively, forcing her into a posture not unlike that of a racing jockey. Red gathered his legs under him as though to spring.

'Now just a minute -'

He bounded forward and Peri had to save all her breath for hanging on. Red was following the rainbow sequence perfectly, but he was touching only every other tile.

Gribbs turned off the comm link and nervously faced the other occupant of the Falcon's Falcon's control cabin, trying not to make direct eye contact as he did so. They were nothing like Alpha's eyes had been, for a very good reason, but he still did not want to look at them. control cabin, trying not to make direct eye contact as he did so. They were nothing like Alpha's eyes had been, for a very good reason, but he still did not want to look at them.

'That should put their minds at rest, don't you think, Gribbs?'

'Uh, sure, Mr Alpha. That was, er, some performance on your part.'

'Simply a voice synthesiser unit, Gribbs. I accessed the s.h.i.+p's log recordings of your recent conversations with Qwaid and duplicated the girl's voice and superficial mannerisms. Now all we have to do is allow Qwaid and his a.s.sistants to locate Rovan's treasure and give us its location. From the recordings it seems that this "Doctor" person is not unintelligent. He should compensate for Qwaid's grosser deficiencies.'

'Oh, right, Mr Alpha. He will that. And when he's done that we just... pick it up?'

'More or less, Gribbs. I want to give Qwaid a surprise, you see.

You do think he'll be surprised to see me, don't you?'

Oh, he'll be surprised, that's for sure, Gribbs thought miserably.

The far edge of the dead forest was marked by a continuous line of fencing. Through this they could see an open expanse of rocky ground.

The fence itself was formed of black tubular posts, perhaps three metres high and s.p.a.ced some ten metres apart, linked by black rails slotted alternately into them. There was not enough s.p.a.ce between the rails to pa.s.s between them, but Myra judged that it should be simple enough to climb over, the horizontal rails making in effect broad ladder-like steps. She wondered vaguely what material they were made of. It had to be extremely rigid to support itself without any apparent sagging over such long spans. She reached out to test it, then jerked her hand back with a yell.

'What's wrong?' Brockwell asked with concern. 'Is it electrified?'

'No, but don't anyone touch it. Look carefully at the edges of the rails.'

Cautiously they did so.

The rails were similar to thin I-beams in cross section, and about twenty-five centimetres broad. But the horizontal edges of their upper and lower f.l.a.n.g.es were literally razor sharp. In addition, another razor-like ridge rose perpendicularly from between them, pointing vertically up and down. Any attempt to grasp or step on the rail for the purposes of climbing would result in serious lacerations.

'Hmm, an ingenious contrivance,' said Thorrin, examining the railing.

'A cruel trap,' said Myra. 'Suppose you reached it at night, with some imaginary horror at you heels? Would you notice the blades in time? How well can you apply bandages with your fingers cut to ribbons?

'Cruel perhaps, but necessary,' the Marquis said quietly. 'I beg you pardon?' said Brockwell.

'Never mind,' said the Marquis.

'Whatever its morality, it prevents us from leaving this evil place,' said Falstaff. 'And I for one do not propose to spend another night here.' And he reversed his staff and drove its metal ferrule hard against the side of one of the vertical blades. Despite its thinness, it did not break or chip, and the rail itself merely s.h.i.+vered slightly under the force of the blow.

'Some sort of toughened synthetic,' Thorrin p.r.o.nounced. 'We must either wrap enough spare items of clothing and bedrolls over it to protect ourselves while we climb, or else see if our pistols can be set to burn through a section.'

'Can we dig under it?' Brockwell wondered. He bent down and experimentally began scooping at the earth below the lowest rail.