Cold Fusion - Lance Parkin [16]
‘I’ll take your word for it. Adric still found it difficult to picture a skitrain, but he could see the advantages of propelling a vehicle along a frictionless runway. The Doctor had returned to his tinkering.
In the absence of anything better to do, Adric trudged towards the hut. It had a dull metal door, with a control panel. There was also a notice:
PUBLIC TRANSMAT - Please read the instructions. This facility is provided by HKI Industries, Phobos, and is subject to their terms and conditions (copies available on request). This transmat must only be connected to Pentalion-compatible teleportation devices by an approved engineer. Failure to do so will invalidate the warranty. In such an event, HKI will not be liable for the consequences. If in doubt, ask your dealer. This does not affect your rights under the Particle Matter Transmission (Deregulation) Act, MMCXX. If in difficulty please ring our helpline.
It didn’t give the number. Next to the panel was a brightly coloured directory of other Transmat Sites. Adric peered at them. This station was ‘Empress Park’, predictably enough. The other names (‘Scientifica’,
‘Imperial Hotel’, ‘Offworld Zoo’, ‘Spaceport Terminal One’) meant nothing to him, and many of the other locations were simply identified by serial numbers. A couple had been scratched out. Adric managed to read one of the obliterated names: ‘Pryanishnikov Waystation’.
The Doctor was stepping over to join him. Adric’s boot scuffed against something on the floor. A metal object was lying at the base of the pedestal. He bent down. Whatever it was had fallen to the ground and become half-buried in the snow. It could only have been there for a short time as hardly any new snow had fallen on it. It was a metal object, the shape and size of an egg. He picked it up. There was a plug on one side, and it looked like a component of a machine, a computer peripheral perhaps.
‘Doctor, what do you think this is?’
‘Mmm?’
As the Doctor came over, there was a high-pitched whine from inside the pagoda. The metal door slid open with a pneumatic hiss, and there was a blast of warm air. A huge figure wearing blue armour was framed in the doorway. Instinctively Adric pocketed the silver egg.
‘Excuse me,’ the new arrival said, stepping from the booth. He wore a helmet that electronically filtered his voice, The armour was trimmed with gold. ‘Could you move on, please?’
The Doctor looked up at him. ‘Of course, officer. Might I know why?’
‘Security, sir.’
‘Of course. What other reason is there?’
‘There’s been a bomb scare, sir.’
The Doctor perked up. ‘Well, might I help?’
‘That’s quite all right, sir, there’s a team on the way. A team of experts.’
‘Come on, Adric.’ The Doctor led him away, down the platform, towards the exit.
‘Who is that?’ Adric asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
‘He’s an Adjudicator, The Adjudicators’ Bureau is the intergalactic police force, committed to fairness and justice. A member of the Bureau is often called in when an intractable legal dispute develops. They are renowned throughout the galaxy for their impartially All parties know that the Adjudicator will come to a just decision.’
‘One Adjudicator can sort out an entire planet?’
‘One Adjudicator. That’s all it needs, generally.’
Adric would obviously have to spell it out for him. ‘So what’s so important about this one little skitrain station.
The Doctor stopped in his tracks and looked down at Adric. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘And why did he want to move us on?
‘Well, I’m not sure about that, either.’
‘You seem to be saying that rather a lot since your regeneration,’ Adric suggested sulkily.
The Doctor pretended not to hear. ‘I intend to find out, though.’
He stopped in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder at the Adjudicator, who was making his way towards the man and woman. ‘That’s far enough, I think. Can you feel the vibration?’
‘No.’ But now the Doctor had mentioned it, Adric could hear a new sound, a slight rumbling.
‘It’s the train.’
The Doctor tiptoed over to the camera pedestal,