Doctor Who_ To The Slaughter Part 35

'Hey!' Roddle complained. 'What are you hustling here? I'm not going anywhere! You haven't even told me what you're looking for!'

'Why, Sook, of course,' said the Doctor reasonably. 'Fitz went looking for her out there. The sooner we get Sook back, the sooner things can get back to normal.'

Trix raised an eyebrow, which the Doctor studiously ignored.

190.

'Sook went out there?' Roddle seemed dubious. 'Why?'

The Doctor looked into his eyes. 'Because she knew that this place we're searching for is very important.'

Roddle chewed on this piece of unlikely logic for a while. 'OK,' he said nervously, 'I guess we can go take a look.'

'Good man,' said the Doctor. 'Off you go southside, then.'

'You'll look after Halcyon till we all get back?'

'I'm a Doctor, aren't I? Goodbye, Trix. I'll miss you.'

She blinked. 'You say that like you don't think I'll come back.'

'Just go,' he snapped, hunched over his bubblescreen now like a wizard staring-into a crystal ball, trying to tell the future.

Trix decided that this was one occasion she'd rather not know.

Roddle's flyer was like a Harley-Davidson crossed with a jet ski. It soared above the congested streets at a speed that bordered on terrifying, a total boy-toy for the obscenely loaded. Trix clung on Roddle's skinny waist for dear life. He had seemed high enough before this unlikely jaunt and she found herself persistently screaming warnings in his ear not just to alert him to upcoming obstacles, but to tell him what she would do to him if they crashed into one. Though he claimed the flyer had some inertia device fitted that would protect her from harm, she was taking no chances.

As they sped through Callisto City she saw a big brawl slopping messily out of a bar the beginning of the Doctor's prophesised madness, or just a booze-fuelled bust-up, no chiggock fillets lining the combatants' stomachs?

It was easy to get paranoid. But just how long did they have? She closed her eyes, but the sight of all those dead at the frozen Inst.i.tute kept prising itself under her eyelids. This city was rammed. If the crowds turned on each other, that carnage in the stadium would seem like the teddy-bears' picnic.

They turned a corner, speeding on to a seedier strip. The bars were emptier.

The crowds were thinning out here into couples and huddles: some watching the news bubbles, some trying not to. This was supposed to have been party night, the big fiesta. Now it was spoiled and rotten. The food had run out and that just left the booze. Things could get ugly even without some sinister slugs willing things worse.

'This is southside,' Roddle called. 'You think I should just keep scooting around?'

'Get as high up as possible,' Trix told him, and gritted her teeth as the s.h.i.+p jerked upwards.

She heard a faint chime from Roddle's wrist, and the Doctor's voice: 'What's your location?'

191.

Roddle rattled off some letters and numbers. They seemed to make sense to the Doctor.

'I've narrowed the field to a three-mile radius. Bear east to this location.'

Trix's stomach swept sideways as Roddle did as he was told. She looked down miserably as the streets whooshed past below.

And her eyes widened.

She could see a familiar figure striding purposefully down the street away from them. A tall, broad, dark figure.

'Whoa!' shouted Trix. 'Stop, turn back around!'

Roddle did as he was told with unpleasant relish, tilting them almost to ninety degrees. 'What's up?'

'Find yourself a place to park,' she told him shakily. 'And tell the Doctor he can take it easy. I think we just got ourselves a guide.'

Sook had got it wrong. The drone hatch hadn't led to the stage. It was some kind of winding service conduit, dimly lit, cold and claustrophobic. G.o.d only knew where he'd end up.

Fitz's arms felt like they must now stretch right down to the floor. They were buzzing with pins and needles and his chest felt so tight he could hardly breathe. Sook wasn't conscious to notice any of this. He wished he he wasn't. wasn't.

Right now he could use some of Roddle's happy pills.

He felt a wave of anger almost overwhelm him. Those smug, stupid soldiers.

He ought to go back and shoot them in the legs. Tell them to crawl to the first-aid checkpoint. See how they they liked it. See. . . liked it. See. . .

He stopped staggering for a second, shook his head. Fab. He was getting hysterical. That was really going to help.

The truth was, he should have done as the soldiers said instead of thinking he could do better. He could maybe have pushed to the front, claiming staff privileges. . . and Sook might have been treated by now. But as it was, the pair of them would probably cark it together in this A soft chime sounded in the gloom, made his heart jump. It was coming from Sook's wristpad. The Doctor trying to get in touch? How would he know the frequency?

Hardly daring to hope, he lowered his head and spoke to Sook's b.l.o.o.d.y wrist. 'Who's this?'

'Mildrid.' Her round face blew out like bubblegum, sickly pink and thick with static. She looked hara.s.sed. 'Kreiner, Sook was supposed to leave hangar door seven open for us, but it's locked!'

He scowled. 'In case you hadn't noticed, there's no show to gatecrash.'

'What's happening?'

192.

He sighed. 'Sook's badly hurt. We went through a drone hatch and now I'm stuck in a tunnel somewhere under the stadium. No idea where it leads '

'I'm sorry, Kreiner, but I was thinking about the big picture,' she said. 'We've seen those animals on the vidcasts, poor things. . . Gaws is furious his interviews have all been shelved.'

'I couldn't give a stuff for Gaws and his interviews!' hissed Fitz, staggering along with Sook, his arms crawling with cramp. 'The animals are under control. And there are soldiers here supposedly helping out. Probably them who locked up your doorway '

He broke off as his foot caught on something sharp in the dark, a box or something. He was suddenly falling, and twisted around awkwardly so that he landed on his back and Sook landed on him. He gasped with pain, winded, let his head fall back as Mildrid went on.

'We need more soldiers out here!' said Mildrid. 'People are turning crazy!

Fighting for no reason! It's awful out here, and there's a lockdown at the s.p.a.ceport, we can't get to our s.h.i.+p. We need Sook to get us into the stadium as arranged where it's safe.'

'Safe? Stuff you!' shouted Fitz as he struggled to prop himself up on his elbows, cradling Sook's head. 'Right now, Sook needs you! And if she dies, your agent in Halcyon's camp is gone, finished, kaput. So how about you stop whining and worrying about yourself and find a way of preserving her her!'

He lay there panting for breath. In the gloom, a low whine started up close by.

Mildrid looked baffled. 'But. . . '

The box he had tripped over was rising slowly into the air, ahead of him.

He froze.

'But how can I I possibly help you from out here?' Mildrid complained. 'You need to find ' possibly help you from out here?' Mildrid complained. 'You need to find '

The box buzzed loudly, drowning her out. Strange, unpleasant-looking at-tachments started to protrude in his direction. He caught a whiff of bad air as it floated towards him.

'h.e.l.lo?' Mildrid called, the screen static increasing. 'Are you still there?'

'Keep back!' stammered Fitz. The box hovered just a few feet away. Then it whipped out a flexible nozzle.

'. . . said you need to find yourself a drone drone, a service robot!' came the distorted voice from Sook's wrist. 'A drone can guide you to the hangar! Call me when you get there and let me in!'

Fitz realised he was looking down the wrong end of a wash hose.

'What would you like me to clean for you?' asked the box in a soft female voice.

193.

This was the place. No doubt of it. Falsh surveyed the door. Those fools on the gate wouldn't even look at his pa.s.scard, not with a lockdown in process; no admittance and that was final. Well, it ought to work here.

Knocking out the guards had made him feel better. Stronger. In control.

He had one more gas cap left. Whatever lay waiting inside, he would be ready. He pulled his filter into place over his mouth and nose and waved the card at the lock.

The door slid open smoothly. It was dark inside.

He paused to let his eyes grow accustomed. There was a low whirr in the air computers running. He could make out a big bank of bubblescreens, too, each one on standby, winking a green eye. There was power here, so why were the lights 'h.e.l.lo?' A high, piteous voice in the darkness. 'Who is that?'

'Tinya?' Falsh started forwards. 'Is that you?'

'Oh, Falsh, please. . . I can't move. . . '

Falsh took another step or two. He reached into his jacket's pocket for the gas cap. He didn't trust this.

And he was d.a.m.n right. The lights snapped on. He was left staring at a pile of bodies covered in an old tarpaulin. Phaedra's eyes gazed sightlessly up at him. And sitting on the top of the pile was Tinya. She had a small gun and a big, big smile aimed right at him.

'What is this?' he hissed.

She nodded to the bubblescreens behind her. 'We saw you take out the guards. Gave us plenty of time to prepare a reception. Now, put down the gas capsule,' she said. 'Or I'll kill you.'

He didn't move.

'I'm sorry. I don't suppose you like taking orders from anyone. Least of all your Public Relations executive.' She s.h.i.+fted herself, moving off the corpse-pile. 'Why not consider it a friendly request? We don't want to kill you, Falsh.'

'How long, Tinya?' he said simply. 'I know you were going through just about every doc.u.ment I owned, but why?'

For a second, it showed that she was rattled. He took a measured step towards her.

'I knew all along,' he said, 'that you were up to something. And I knew that if I gave you enough rope you'd swing from it in the end.'

She appeared to consider this. 'Well, well. What a fool I've been. So you haven't simply walked into a trap?'

He smiled. 'I've simply walked into Falsh property, Tinya. You know how much I own property, money, power. And you're ambitious too, I know that.

So let's talk this thing through.'

'A deal, you mean?'

194.

'Whatever you've been offered, I can triple it.'

A new voice: 'I don't think so.'

Falsh froze.

'Klimt.'

The Doctor had searched Falsh's s.h.i.+p, but there was no sign of any paint, doctored or otherwise, on board. For want of something more constructive to do, he had laid Halcyon on a couch in the c.o.c.kpit and given him a physical.

The results had been quite surprising.

Halcyon's wristpad chimed. The Doctor grabbed his wrist and spoke into it.

'Trix, have you found the place?'

'Falsh led us right to the spot. He had some kind of nick with the guards, then ga.s.sed them. They're out cold.'

'So he just walked in?'

'Without a hitch as did we. Skeleton staff only by the looks of it everyone must be over there at the arena.'

'Where's Falsh now?'

'He's gone inside the shed,' she whispered. 'Listen, Doctor, I think you were right. Big surprise I know, but there you go. There's all this paint stacked up round the back! We should probably test it, don't you think?'

'Test it?'

'I'll paint you a picture.'

The Doctor frowned. 'Just send Roddle back with the flyer, quick as you can.

Sit tight. I'll meet you out there.'