Cold Fusion - Lance Parkin [13]
The staff represents the various –’
‘Fascinating,’ Tegan observed dryly, cutting him off The Doctor glared at her.
‘What’s the brooch?’ Adric asked. Now the Doctor looked, he saw that the cloak was loosely fastened at the right shoulder by a circular clasp. He peered at it carefully.
‘It’s a heraldic device. A chequy disk, plain annular without. I recognize the design from somewh– Is something the matter, Tegan?’
Her arms were crossed firmly over her chest and she was stomping her feet. ‘Doctor, it’s freezing. Couldn’t we continue the lecture inside somewhere?’
The Doctor was genuinely concerned. ‘Yes, yes, of course. There’s a hotel just up the road,’ he pointed it out, so why don’t you and Nyssa head there, and book us all some rooms?’ He reached into his pocket and tossed over a drawstring purse. Nyssa caught it.
‘What will you two be doing?’ Tegan asked suspiciously.
Although she was shivering, the Doctor could tell that she still didn’t want to be left out of any action.
‘Well, Adric and I will be looking for the time disturbances. We’ll start the search here, in this block, and then we’ll work our way systematically over to you at the hotel. It should take about an hour or so, but if we’re late then don’t worry about us.’
Nyssa opened her mouth, presumably to volunteer her services, but Tegan had grabbed her arm. ‘Come on.’ The Doctor watched Tegan drag away her companion.
Tegan only let go of Nyssa’s arm when they were at the foot of the hotel steps, nearly ten minutes later. The building had an imposing facade, in an almost Art Deco style. Although it had been built centuries in her future, Tegan found it almost old-fashioned. Like most of the buildings, the hotel had dark patches staining the brickwork and the windows that weren’t boarded over were dirty. She had expected the City to be futuristic: bold glass and concrete with sweeping curves and huge towers and clean roadways. More like Canberra. She looked up at the colourful words that hung in the air in front of the building as if by magic.
‘The Imperial,’ she observed.
‘Who are those people?’ Nyssa asked. Tegan turned.
Three figures in chunky blue uniforms stood at the corner of the street. They looked like medieval knights, with shoulder and wrist guards. They wore full helmets, and black, half-length robes. They were talking amongst themselves, shifting from foot to foot. All the time they were looking away from each other, watching the street.
They wore sidearms. Tegan found them a little unnerving..
‘They must be the local police,’ Tegan concluded warily.
‘The what?’
‘Don’t tell me: there weren’t any policemen on Traken.’
‘I... think so. We called them Fosters.’
‘Now you’re making me feel homesick,’ Tegan muttered.
‘Let’s get inside.’
They climbed the stairs and stepped through the revolving door. It was warm inside, enough to make Tegan dizzy for a moment. She shrugged off her coat and looked around. Centuries in her future a hotel lobby still looked like a hotel lobby. The room was a picture of faded grandeur: the weak sunlight had begun to bleach the rich maroon and gold wallpaper, a couple of crude electrical junction boxes had been fastened to the ceiling. The smart businessmen huddled around the low tables seemed out of place. Over the years a path had been worn in the carpet from the door to the reception desk. Tegan found herself trudging along it...
A row of metal torsos, like shop window dummies, but with smooth egg-shaped heads, were fixed to the desktop.
Sculpture, Tegan thought, until she and.Nyssa reached the desk and the nearest frame spun on its axis, its arms opening in a gesture of greeting. It was an automaton of some kind, a robot.
‘Welcome to the Imperial Hotel, ladies. How may I help?’ It had a plummy masculine voice which was slightly too upbeat for its surroundings, and a little too supercilious for Tegan’s liking.
‘We’d like to book two twin rooms please,’ Nyssa announced, apparently unfazed by a mechanical concierge.
The robot’s head twisted, and it registered both