Doctor Who_ Human Nature Part 25

'John, don't antagonise them!' Joan hissed.

'Oh, I'll antagonise.' Smith took a step forward. 'I'll antagonize like I've never antagonized before. After all, these two bullies, these two blundering butchers, are going to get what they want.' He waved his hands in the air, glaring at the two aliens. 'They've wiped out hundreds of lives, traumatized a whole community and now they're just going to take what they're after and go.' He fixed August with a piercing gaze. 'Aren't you?'

'That is so,' August a.s.sured him. 'We have no wish to - hey!'

Tim, noticing that Hoff's gaze had wandered off him for a moment, had dived off towards the trees.

The two aliens had time to take careful aim before they fired But Timothy leapt high in the air, then jumped left right left, and the bolts kicked up the earth around him, shattered tree branches, blasted holes through bark and leaves, until the young boy was lost in the darkness of the orchard.

Smith gazed after him and then sheepishly raised his hands to August and Hoff.

'That, erm, wasn't actually part of the plan.'

Hoff had made to run after the boy but August put a hand on his arm. 'No.'

'No? Do you think I'm going to wait for Greeneye to get here and -'

'There's a much easier way. Serif's a.n.a.lysis indicated that Dr Smith here has a particular weakness.' August pulled a device from his pocket and pointed it at Joan.

'That's her.'

'Wait!' Smith yelled. 'Don't - '

But August had already fired. A tiny dart embedded itself in Joan's chest. Her expression froze, and she started to walk, unsteadily, towards the aliens. Smith grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her back, but with sudden strength, she threw him aside.

August took Joan by the hand and looked down at Smith. 'She's coming with us.'

'If you hurt her - '

'We won't. You have my word. That is, unless you don't bring the Pod to our base in the forest before dawn. In that case, I'll let Greeneye vent his frustrations on her.'

Smith was about to bellow something, but he made it come out as a whisper.

'Where is your base?'

August raised an eyebrow. 'You'll find it. Well, you'd better, hadn't you?'

And, with that, the two of them walked off into the night, taking Joan with them.

Smith waited until they were gone, and then dropped his head to the ground in despair.

Chapter Twelve.

Knock Knock

Tim ran through the orchard, cursing himself, the Pod, everything.

It was all falling apart. That stupid man Smith had wanted to give their enemies the Pod. That couldn't be allowed to happen. He didn't know why, it just couldn't. The timing wasn't right.

So he was running pointlessly again.

Or so he thought.

Ahead, some of the apple trees which had been felled by the blast had fallen across the top of some large object.

Some large blue object.

Timothy cautiously walked around the obstruction, until he could see what it was.

A police box.

Not much like the ordinary kind, but recognizable none the less. He rubbed the grey dust away from the notice on the front: Call here for help Call here for help.

'What's a police box doing in the forest?' he asked the Pod. The thing felt... special.

Full of possibilities. It reminded Timothy of October teatimes, while his mother had still been alive, eager walks through leafy fields, back for tea and bread with condensed milk. It reminded him of being read to, of being safe.

Gingerly, he touched the surface of the box. It was vibrating gently, humming even.

He knew what the box was, then. It was somewhere to run to, somewhere that would always be there, no matter what else was spoilt.

It was magic in a corner of a cold world. It was home.

Timothy put his arms around the box and hugged it.

And then a telephone began to ring.

Timothy looked around incredulously, trying to find the source of the sound. It seemed to be coming from the box, from behind the sign.

He fumbled with the edge of the plaque and it swung open on a very rusty hinge.

Inside was a blue telephone, and that was what was ringing. The Pod was vibrating in time with the sound.

Timothy had never answered a telephone before. He picked up the receiver.

'h.e.l.lo?' Then, a moment later: 'If that's where I have to go. Why do you want me to show him that? All right. Who is this?'

He shook the telephone, and found that it was dead.

Bernice, Alexander, Rocastle and the boys were taking a careful route back towards the pub, walking slowly down the forest slope rather than risk the school road.

Rocastle was dawdling in the middle of the group, smiling at the boys sadly and walking with his hands in his pockets. That was a posture Bernice had never seen the Head use before. He was certainly in some sort of shock.

'What are you going to do when we get back?' she asked him.

'Oh, I don't know. I can't think of anything further than-'

'Oh my G.o.d, look out!' Alexander shouted.

August and Hoff were approaching through the forest, Joan walking stiffly ahead of them.

The party scattered, diving behind the fallen trees. The two Aubertides wandered by, Hoff checking a dial on his wrist to adjust Joan's direction of movement slightly. 'Serif and Greeneye will still be sealing off the orchard,' August was saying. 'Think we should leave them to it?'

'They'll eventually get bored,' Hoff muttered. And they moved on, still talking.

After they'd pa.s.sed, Bernice's party broke cover.

'Mrs Redfern,' Merryweather gasped. 'What are they going to do to her?'

'She's a hostage.' Alton rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'Or they'd have already harmed her.'

'Well, if the other two are down there in the orchard,'Alexander said, 'I don't fancy running into them.'

'We could go round the line of the hill,' Benny began.

'Excuse me,' Rocastle said. The others looked at him automatically, surprised by his quiet tone of voice. 'Joan - Mrs Redfern - she's also my responsibility, and somebody who might have been a friend. I'm going to rescue her.' He looked slowly around the group. 'Would anybody be willing to help?'

Smith knelt on the ground, staring at his fists.

He was only human. He could walk through the forest shouting, but Tim could hide from him. The boy didn't know the stakes now, didn't know that the most precious thing in Smith's life was now at risk.

What were his principles beside that?

Now that both the sphere and Joan were gone, he felt impotent and lost once more.

He was only a small Scottish schoolteacher. He didn't have any heroics to save Joan. All he could do was what any human could: bargain. Bargain ethics against everyday life, the image of how life should be against how it really was.

He closed his eyes, and put his hands together. 'Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespa.s.ses as we' - he clenched his teeth, and realized that he was crying - 'forgive those that trespa.s.s against us. Give us this day our daily bread and deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory. For ever and ever. Amen.'

He curled his knees up to his chin and hugged them.

Gradually, the tension ebbed from him and his body began to realize how late at night it was. The light of the moon overhead reflected off the silver dust all around and made the orchard s.h.i.+ne.

He couldn't sleep now. He had to save her. He promised that he'd save everybody.

But on the edge of his mind, he could see her, that other, older her, now, standing with him on those silver rocks in the light of the moon. She put her lips to his ear and whispered something, but still he couldn't quite hear it.

On the branches of the trees around the glade, a circle of owls had landed, standing guard at all points of the compa.s.s.

Or perhaps that was in the dream, too.

She was beautiful. 'Verity...' His lips formed the word.

'I say, are you all right?' A voice interrupted him.

He sat bolt upright. 'No!' he yelled at the newcomer. He scrambled to his feet and stared manically at a young man with a centre-parting, who backed away from the madman that he'd woken up. 'She would have told me! She would have told me what I need to know. If I'm a bully or a victim or a coward or a hero. She would have said.'

The man raised his hands in pacification. 'All right, old chap. All right. I'll leave you to sleep.'

Smith rubbed a hand through his hair, realising how wild it had become. 'No. Stay.

Bad dreams. What are you doing here?'

'I'm looking for a chum of mine. I met a young lad and-'

'You did? Where?'

'Down by this barrier thing. He let me through. Sent me this way, but it doesn't seem - '

'He can do that?' The question was almost to himself.

'Apparently, yes. What's happened to the school? Do you know what's going on?'

'Less than you do. Can you take me there? To the barrier?'

'Why, yes, of course. Look, who are you?'

'Doctor.'

'Doctor who?'

'We'll see. Who are you?'

'Richard. Richard Hadleman. Soon to be this const.i.tuency's MP, hopefully.'

Hadleman extended his hand to the ragged figure, who shook it distractedly and grabbed his umbrella from the ground. 'Well,' Smith muttered, 'you won't need much of a majority. This const.i.tuency's getting smaller all the time.'

They walked through the forest, Hadleman staring at the silver dust around them.

'It's like A Midsummer Night's Dream A Midsummer Night's Dream,' he whispered.

'More like Hamlet Hamlet. Tell me, do you believe in G.o.d?'

Hadleman, looking around him, was caught off guard by the question. 'Eh? Oh, no, not at all, actually. I believe in dialectical materialism, the force of history and the revolution. Two ideas collide, form a new idea, a synthesis, and that new idea is naturally revolutionary. History's like a big hill, and we're all rolling down it towards the inevitable. Towards the revolution.' He stopped. 'Of course, that needn't necessarily be a violent revolution. What, ah, are your politics, Doctor?'

Smith considered. 'I don't know if I have any. Not yet. I'll let you know when my own synthesis happens.'

They came to the other edge of the forest, where a tiny stream flowed along, a wooden bridge over it. The bridge was connected to a stile, and the odd haze of the barrier s.h.i.+mmered halfway across the water. The moonlight gave the scene an eerie quality, like it was just a film set.

Smith hopped over the stile and wandered up to the barrier. 'Yes, I've seen this before. It's... dangerous. You say Tim brought you through?'