Doctor Who_ To The Slaughter Part 7

'Thanks for being so nice about this,' he sighed. 'You've been surprisingly understanding.'

'I think I've behaved realistically enough.' Sook wore a guarded look. 'Halcyon believes your presence here is down to my incompetence. It's clearly in my best interests to convince him that you might actually be an a.s.set, whatever trumped-up school you're a disciple of.'

'Disciple?' Fitz's spirit was buckling under the weight of his ignorance as to what the h.e.l.l was going on here. 'Look, Sook. . . Could you just tell me, when are we going back to Falsh's station?' She frowned.

'Why would you want to '

'Please. It's important.'

'But we're not,' she said, puzzled. 'Next time we see Falsh he'll be in the audience at the live vidcast the day after tomorrow.'

Fitz felt his throat tightening. There was no way back to the Doctor. He'd never see him again. He was trapped. He found his head was throbbing in time with his paint-smeared hand.

Sook was looking at him warily. 'Kreiner? What is it?'

'Nothing,' he croaked. 'I'm fine. Fine and dandy.'

'OK. Because I think we need to talk, don't we.' She nodded to the hand behind his back. 'But first things first. You're prepared for the PadPad uplink?'

'Uh, yeah. 'Course.'

She looked at him warily. 'Good. Well, before we get on with that, you'd better clean up that hand.'

You think the hand is a mess? Fitz shook his head. Fitz shook his head. Baby, you should see the Baby, you should see the rest of my life. rest of my life.

Travelling through s.p.a.ce was actually very dull, Trix decided, between catnaps in the Polar Lights Polar Lights' minimalist lounge on a wafer-thin plastic couch. It looked great but was horrible to lie on. She surveyed the spotless, pale-blue-boarded floor and wondered if that would be more comfortable.

It would be exhausting living here without an army of cleaners, she decided.

You'd mess up the place just by breathing. Not an ounce of clutter. Not a pinch of personality. Just clean lines and open s.p.a.ce. The kind of look that was great 39 for selling show-homes but which went pear-shaped the moment you actually tried to live the dream.

A swoosh made her jump. It was the door sliding open to reveal the Doctor.

He didn't look happy. 'I've lost Halcyon's ion trail,' he announced. 'We can't trace his s.h.i.+p. So we can't find Fitz or the TARDIS.'

Trix blinked. 'Thanks for breaking it to me gently.' She got up from the couch, stiffly. 'Hey, wait a minute. This is no problem. Halcyon's going to he hosting a live vidcast thingie. Live demolition of a bunch of Jupiter's moons.'

'Oh yes?' The Doctor looked at her sharply. 'When?'

'I don't know.' She shrugged. 'Sometime soon. But if we keep watching telly, we might see an advert for it, and that would tell us where he is! Tinya did say there'd be blanket coverage. . . '

The Doctor stuffed his hands in his pockets and considered. 'So the plan is, we sit and watch TV for several days?'

'What else is there to do? Provided Falsh has got a good stock of snacks in, we're sorted.'

'He's a powerful man,' the Doctor reminded her, suddenly cold and aloof.

'I've been looking through his files, getting a feel for the type of industry in Falsh Industries. Catering, civil engineering, electronics, experimental technologies. . . ' He paused. 'That has an enigmatic ring to it, doesn't it? Experimental technologies. . . '

'In other words,' said Trix, 'he's big enough to come after us with everything he's got. Still, s.p.a.ce is big. We can hide out, can't we?'

He shook his head. 'With the fuel we have left we might get halfway to Mars. Always a.s.suming Falsh and Halcyon don't blow it up first.'

'Mars is safe,' Trix told him. 'Too many ancient Martian ruins. It's got an Empire Trust preservation order slapped on it.'

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully.

'Old Preservers, bringing pressure to bear. . . '

'Halcyon and Falsh aren't keen on them, for sure. Like those nutters who lay down in front of bulldozers, are they?'

'Falsh thought I was one.'

'That answers my question.'

'And Fitz too. . . ' he sighed. 'Oh, Fitz, Fitz, Fitz. There's Falsh thinking we know too much, when really we know lamentably little.' The Doctor plonked himself down on the couch beside her. 'The destruction of Carme, for instance. . . What's that all about?'

'Yeah, Halcyon blew his glittery top over that. One of the Ancient Twelve. . .

It was a keeper, in his book.'

'Ancient Twelve!' said the Doctor scornfully. 'By what criteria? What's he playing at? Even if he's going by order of discovery, there were barely twenty 40 years between Ananke in fifty-one and Leda in seventy-four.'

Trix scowled. 'Why do you even know know stuff like that?' stuff like that?'

'I have a splendid memory for facts.'

'Anyway, what's done is done. It was just an accident, Falsh said.'

'That's what he wanted Halcyon to think,' said the Doctor. 'No, he did it on purpose. He's covering something up, and. . . ' He clicked his fingers. 'Blazar.'

'Excuse me?'

'Blazar!

Blazar!'

The Doctor was in full-on bridge-of-nose-pinching, working-out-difficult-sum-in-head mode. 'The demolition company Falsh set up to do his dirty work. . . Where did Tinya say Blazar was based. . . Thebe!'

he roared, leaping to his feet.

'Is that one of the Ancient Twelve?'

'No.'

'Then it's going bang, and Blazar with it.'

'Yes. Like Carme, there's something there that Falsh doesn't want anyone to see. "Steps are being taken", Tinya said. . . '

Trix regarded him. 'I sense my "watch TV" plan is going out the window.

Right?'

'We must get to Thebe ahead of Falsh,' said the Doctor, doing the expectant-father bit and pacing the floor. 'If we can get hold of the evidence he's hoping to erase, we'll have something to bargain with. We'll force him to get us the TARDIS back and Fitz with it.'

'Clever,' admitted Trix. 'In principle.'

He headed for the door, which whooshed open expectantly. 'I'll check the s.h.i.+p's magnetic s.h.i.+elding and try to compute a course!'

'Hang on, Doctor,' she called. 'This evidence if we do do find it is bound to be of something heinous, appalling, or at least deeply unpleasant. . . ' find it is bound to be of something heinous, appalling, or at least deeply unpleasant. . . '

He hesitated in the doorway. 'Almost certainly.'

She looked at him sternly. 'However bad it is, you are not not to get us involved in putting things right. It's a bargaining chip to get us back the TARDIS, Fitz, and a little mercury nothing else. Promise me.' to get us involved in putting things right. It's a bargaining chip to get us back the TARDIS, Fitz, and a little mercury nothing else. Promise me.'

'OK,' said the Doctor s.h.i.+ftily. 'I promise.'

Trix noticed his hands were back in his pockets. 'Hey! Are your fingers crossed in there?'

But he had vanished through the door now, and it had swept closed behind him.

41.

Chapter Six.

Sook was waiting for Fitz outside the bathrooms. He waved to her with a now-spotless hand.

'Feeling better?' she asked.

'Surprisingly so,' Fitz admitted. 'Amazing what a bit of outrageous opulence can do for the soul.' The bathroom was more like a marble palace, porcelain-white. In place of a sink a fountain gushed gently fragranced water, and the lotion Sook had given him made short, sudsy work of the Halcytone.

He wondered if he should go all the way and come clean to Sook. But he bottled it.

'What's with that paint, anyway?' Fitz asked.

'Halcyon has every room remodelled on a weekly basis. A fresh atmosphere, a fresh mind.'

'No, I mean, what's with with that paint the freaky glowing lightshows.' that paint the freaky glowing lightshows.'

She stared. 'Excuse me? You're here and you haven't heard of Halcytone, the intelligent paint that's FUN to watch dry?'

'Well, obviously I've heard heard of it,' bluffed Fitz. 'But how does it work?' of it,' bluffed Fitz. 'But how does it work?'

She started leading the way down the expansive corridor, tracing her fingers idly along the simple, elegant symbols that scored the tasteful walls like uber-Braille. 'The patterns are generated by nano-optic particles in the paint base.

They generate an infinitesimal current that changes the colour of the paint as it dries.'

'Creating the patterns!'

'And untold riches for Halcyon, naturally.'

Fitz frowned. 'Hey, wait a minute. I copped a handful of those nano-optic things! Is that OK?'

'Well, it's not a good idea to bathe in the stuff. On contact with the skin that current can can start to influence your nerve-endings,' Sook admitted. 'Only temporary, but you can get headaches, fatigue, nausea. . . ' start to influence your nerve-endings,' Sook admitted. 'Only temporary, but you can get headaches, fatigue, nausea. . . '

'Explains why I was feeling so sick and tired.'

'Hey,' she said. 'You can never never get sick and tired of Halcytone. The random-pattern generator continues to function when the paint is dry and since the paint particles are constantly being revived and regenerated by the programmed current, the colours can never fade.' She seemed almost bitter. get sick and tired of Halcytone. The random-pattern generator continues to function when the paint is dry and since the paint particles are constantly being revived and regenerated by the programmed current, the colours can never fade.' She seemed almost bitter.

43.'Gauche, but a good gimmick. It caught people's imagination. Gave him the platform and the finances he needed to raise his artistry to another level.'

'And upon that lofty peak, he met you.'

If Sook recognised his teasing she didn't let on. 'He applied himself to the Feng Shui disciplines, reinvented himself as the doyen of declutter. But you knew all that. Right?'

Fitz preferred to let his ignorance seep out slowly rather than in one great flood. 'Well, higher levels or not, he's obviously still got a soft spot for his pet paint if he's splas.h.i.+ng it about on his own walls.'

'Not him. That's Roddle's job.'

'Roddle's a painter and decorator?'

'Artist.'

'Right.'

'Halcyon insists we check the quality regularly. Since Falsh took over exclusive manufacture, they claim to have improved the formula. Upgraded the nano-optics and even made it self-repairing on minor chips or scratches.'

'Old Falsh and Halcyon really are in each other's pockets, aren't they?'

mused Fitz.

'It's been a lucrative arrangement for them both, I suppose,' she said. 'Falsh's distribution network has brought Halcyon recognition and royalties right out across the Empire Rim. And that profile boost has really paid off for Falsh.

Since the President okayed Halcyon's Restore the Wonder Restore the Wonder project, Falsh was first in line to take all those lucrative demolition and reconstruction contracts.' project, Falsh was first in line to take all those lucrative demolition and reconstruction contracts.'

She bit her tongue. 'Sorry, I get carried away. I guess you know all that, and it's kind of a sore point. . . '

'Sore is right.' He stopped walking and looked at her. Now his head was feeling clearer, he realised he had just one chance to turn the situation and the Rapier Rapier around. 'Sook, you've been cool with me, but we both know that I shouldn't be here at all. Take me back to Falsh's station, please.' around. 'Sook, you've been cool with me, but we both know that I shouldn't be here at all. Take me back to Falsh's station, please.'

'What?'

'And lend me some mercury too, could you? That is, if you've got any.'