Doctor Who_ To The Slaughter Part 10

It halted high above the Doctor. And the crate he'd just leaped on to lurched beneath his feet.

'Jump, Doctor!' she yelled.

But he was already too high up. He'd break his legs, or his neck or something. And meanwhile, the disc was towing him gently back towards the grey, ponderous creature.

The Doctor stood balanced on the giant box like a surfer riding out a wave.

Then he reached in his trouser pocket and removed the sonic screwdriver, waving it above his head.

Trix bit her lip as the silver disc holding the weight of the crate in mid-air made a sudden dip. The crate dropped with it, a full five feet or so, but somehow the Doctor kept his balance. The alien hadn't worked out what he was up to; it struggled with its little remote control, no doubt thinking the fault lay there.

So it didn't see the Doctor steer his magic crate down still further until it smacked at speed into a whole stack of the things.

The noise was deafening; a dinning domino effect took hold as each crate toppled over and slammed right into another. The alien looked up, appalled to find itself in the path of this atrocious tide of ma.s.sive metal crates. It tried to run for it back out through the maze, but the wall of boxes beside it teetered and fell, crus.h.i.+ng it beneath the jagged pile.

'Woo-hoo!' cried Trix! 'You did it, Doctor!'

56.But the crate wavered alone in mid-air, the silver disc bobbing mindlessly about above it.

'Doctor?' she called, more anxious than jubilant now.

Then she heard something behind her.

It was the creature, dragging itself back down the narrow pathways between crates, limping badly. It was injured. And she imagined it was just a little annoyed.

Trix bunched herself up, like she used to as a child when she'd just seen a particularly big spider, as the creature neared its point of closest approach, just a row of crates away. But it ignored her, heading for the exit at the back of the hall, just as the Doctor had told her to.

Where the h.e.l.l was was he? he?

The creature staggered out through the swoos.h.i.+ng door. A great, crus.h.i.+ng hush descended on the cavernous storehouse.

'Doctor!' she yelled.

'Not so loud,' came the voice behind her. 'I've got a headache.'

She spun around. There he was, leaning against her crate, looking up at her. There was a graze on his forehead, and his s.h.i.+rt and waistcoat were torn, but otherwise he looked OK.

'You're all right!' Trix beamed. 'You sod! Why'd you creep up on me like that?'

'I was trying to follow our friend,' the Doctor admitted. 'But my little touch of interior redesign mucked up the maze layout. I got a bit lost.'

'Well the way back to the s.h.i.+p is that that way,' said Trix with feeling. 'Shall we?' way,' said Trix with feeling. 'Shall we?'

'No,' said the Doctor. 'We've got to find out what that person was up to.'

'Person? That thing thing was trying to kill us!' was trying to kill us!'

'It didn't come all this way just to do that, though, did it?'

Trix threw up her arms. 'I thought we'd already worked out that Falsh wanted this place wiped out so no one could say anything?'

'So why not simply send a couple of his security sentinels to blow the whole place up?' said the Doctor, looking thoughtful. 'Why send an alien a.s.sa.s.sin into the base armed with a handgun?'

'To check no one had left the place already, I suppose. Besides, there's no shortage of explosives in here,' Trix pointed out. 'Maybe he was on his way here to nuke the place when he found us, just waiting to be taken care of.'

'Maybe,' the Doctor agreed. 'Would you mind coming down from there? I'm getting a crick in my neck.'

Trix scrambled down from the crate, ignoring his proffered helping hand.

'Did you see how badly injured it was?' he asked.

'Limping. Didn't look happy.'

57.'Probably back off to its s.h.i.+p. Maybe we can catch it up and ask some questions, hmm?' The Doctor, limping a little himself, set off briskly. With a last disparaging look at the cloud of silver discs, she followed him.

It was difficult for Tinya, going through the motions at her desk, keeping on top of her mundane responsibilities. She kept going over her encounter with the Doctor, and that woman he worked for. . . The stinging lump on the back of her head nagged at her like an injustice. Tinya was used to paying people back, but with Falsh's s.h.i.+p neither traced or recovered. . .

What were those agitators planning? She didn't like the smell of this mystery. She didn't understand Tinya's screen chimed softly. She swore as she saw who was trying to get in touch; this was the last thing she needed.

'Yes, Piers, what is it?' she said, as his face burst out of a pink bubble on the desk. 'I'm busy.'

'Tinya,' he purred, a particularly patronising smile on his face. 'I thought I would see how you were.'

'I'm fine, why shouldn't I be?'

'You were attacked!' said Piers, adopting a scandalised tone.

Tinya raised an eyebrow, playing for time. How could Piers know what happened in Falsh's office, unless Falsh himself 'They took your shoe! Those barbarians under the desk. Interrupting us like that.'

Tinya kept all trace of relief from her face. 'It was highly irregular,' she agreed. 'Interrupting an emergency symposium '

'Interrupting us us,' he said, a chiding look in his eye. 'And they've run off in Falsh's own s.h.i.+p, I understand.'

'Did Falsh tell you?' said Tinya.

'One hears word,' said Piers smugly.

'Piers, I really am very very busy ' busy '

'It's how they got aboard that's the really worrying thing. No unexpected vessels docked, no hull breaches. . . '

'Your security people won't find Fitz now, you know,' the Doctor had said. 'Our craft is there, he'll have got inside.' craft is there, he'll have got inside.'

'Security's running the surveillance tapes, of course, but since no alarms were triggered. . . '

'Your craft?' she'd echoed.

'Mmm, big blue box.'

Piers smiled smugly. 'Do you suppose they were ghosts?'

'If they were,' said Tinya, 'you wouldn't have felt the hairier one rubbing your leg beneath the table, would you?'

58.'Then it was was him. . . ' Piers's smile lost a little of its oily enthusiasm. 'I see. him. . . ' Piers's smile lost a little of its oily enthusiasm. 'I see.

Well, in any case, it's a pity they got away.'

She raised a mocking eyebrow. 'You were hoping the intimacy might have led somewhere, perhaps?'

He affected to laugh. 'It simply seems to me somewhat unfortunate that these. . . agitators agitators are aware now that we deliberately destroyed the Inst.i.tute on Carme for the insurance value.' are aware now that we deliberately destroyed the Inst.i.tute on Carme for the insurance value.'

Tinya kept her face carefully neutral. Is that really all you think it was? Is that really all you think it was?

'I mean it's only a matter of time before the word is plastered all over a NewsSat bulletin.'

'Have you shared your fears with Falsh, Piers?'

He gave a sickly smile. 'I'm sure he's well aware of the ramifications.'

'If anyone is, he is,' Tinya agreed, her tongue nudging into her cheek. 'Goodbye, Piers. Thank you for sharing your concerns.'

'Thank you for making your position so clear, Tinya,' said Piers, affecting an unbecoming frothiness. 'Adieu.'

She quit the link and leaned back in her chair. She felt oddly uneasy.

After a while she buzzed Security on her wristpad. 'Adan? It's Tinya, any word on my new pa.s.scard? Oh, that's good, you really are so kind. Hey, I understand you're reviewing camera footage for signs of the intruders' arrival. . . '

The dead bodies were in the crew rec room. Trix looked round a bit queasily at the charred corpses, all slumped together against one wall. What was left of their faces suggested they'd been terrified when it happened.

'Shot in the legs first, then the head or chest,' the Doctor reported after a cursory examination.

'Tortured?'

'Yes. It worked its way down the line. Looks like it was trying to get them to speak first.' He tenderly closed the staring eyes of the nearest poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

'But what was he trying to get them to say?'

'Perhaps to see if they'd told anyone else about blowing up the wrong moon?'

'Seems a little tenuous to me,' said the Doctor, straightening up.

'Who cares?' Trix complained. 'I mean, in a way it's quite good for us, isn't it? If Falsh has arranged all this, it's not going to reflect well on him if it gets out, is it? He'll do whatever we want.'

'Shall we take some photographs?' the Doctor inquired acidly. 'Or perhaps drag one of the corpses back to our s.h.i.+p and take it to the press?'

Trix rolled her eyes. 'I'm just being practical. I know it's upsetting but you want Fitz back, don't you? You want the TARDIS back?'

'Shhh.'

59.'Typical, start an argument, make me out to be the bad guy and '

'Quiet!' the Doctor hissed, crossing to the doorway. 'I heard something.'

'What?'

'Movement. Somewhere up ahead.'

Trix listened too. Just the sound of her heartbeat, of her own breathing.

'There!' he whispered, ear c.o.c.ked like a spaniel. 'One. . . two. . . three, four, five.' He looked at her grimly. 'Once I caught a fish alive.'

'I'd sooner it was battered.'

With a last, unwise look at the corpses, she followed him out to see.

60.

Chapter Eight.

Fitz found Roddle a willing guide, but a useless one. He kept leading Fitz into dimly lit rooms and looking at him kind of suggestively. Fitz, in return, kept smiling nervously and saying, 'Not sure this is the one either,' before hurrying back out. Roddle would follow him out, unsteadily, and the cycle would continue.

It was so frustrating the key felt red hot in Fitz's hand, he was itching to get inside the s.h.i.+p. He realised he was harbouring the pathetic hope that Trix might still be inside, oblivious to the absence of her fellow travellers, doing her hair or something. After all, time had as little meaning in the TARDIS as it did for girls in the bathroom, so combine the two. . .

'Let's rest for a moment,' said Roddle, staggering into another thinks.p.a.ce and collapsing on an awkward-looking sofa.

'Let's give give it a rest, shall we,' muttered Fitz. 'Roddle, we'll go through this one more time.' He spoke like he was addressing a senile elderly aunt: 'Docking bay? Where is docking bay?' it a rest, shall we,' muttered Fitz. 'Roddle, we'll go through this one more time.' He spoke like he was addressing a senile elderly aunt: 'Docking bay? Where is docking bay?'

But Roddle had crashed out again.

'Come on,' he hissed, gently slapping the sleeping man's gaunt cheek (right, upper).

Roddle's eyes prised open with infinite effort, then snapped back shut.

His comedown wasn't due yet. But Fitz couldn't afford to hang around. By then, Halcyon would have realised that Kreiner the great artist was useless, Sook would be ready to brick him and he'd be dumped in a police cell on Callisto to rot until the end of his days.

So he'd just have to find it himself unsupervised. It was risky he'd probably run smack into Halcyon, or Security, or manage to fall in a whole vat of Halcytone. And then Sook would get even madder, the bricking would be more painful and prolonged, and. . .

No more than he deserved. He'd probably got the poor cow the sack as it was.

She'd be better off with him off and gone. How hard could it be to find the cargo hold, anyway? He'd managed to find his way into into the s.h.i.+p from there, for G.o.d's sake. . . the s.h.i.+p from there, for G.o.d's sake. . .

Cautiously, he started exploring the rest of the Rapier Rapier.