Cold Fusion - Lance Parkin [35]
The Doctor took the top bunk. Normally, Adric wouldn’t have cared less, only the Doctor seemed to be particularly pleased about his achievement. As he sat on the bottom mattress, he could hear the mattress creaking above him as the Doctor shifted around. He had begun to tinker with the remnants of the security camera: every so often Adric would hear the whine of the sonic screwdriver.
‘Can you really fix it?’ Adric called up sceptically.
‘Oh yes, I could, given time,’ a voice drifted down.
‘How long do you think the Scientifica has been here?’
A pause. ‘Whitfield implied that they have been around for centuries. Remember? When she was talking about weapons research.’
‘The pyramid’s much newer, though, isn’t it?’ Adric remarked. ‘The paint’s still fresh.’
‘You know, I think you must be right.’ The Doctor jumped down and paced over to the nearest wall. Adric shuffled over to join him. The Doctor was peering at the paintwork, the remains of the camera eye cradled in his hands.
‘Spick and span,’ he concluded. ‘I’m not sure whether it’s new, though, it might just be very well maintained.’
‘It’s odd that the government spends so much money on its offices, but outside everything’s falling into ruin.’
‘Well,’ the Doctor admitted, ‘there’s nothing too remarkable about that. Strange that there aren’t any signs of cutbacks here. No drawing of purse-strings or tightening of belts. It’s not very good public relations.’ He was looking around the room again, now, seeing it afresh.
‘It doesn’t add up,’ Adric muttered.
‘You’re the mathematician: go on.’
‘If all the jabolite and palladium has gone, they can’t be exporting very much. That spaceport was almost empty apart from Adjudicator battleshuttles. Well, where does the money come from these days?’
The Doctor furrowed his brow. ‘And, for that matter, why would Earth bother to send a peacekeeping force?
Colonies fail all the time. Whitfield said herself that the planet keeps itself to itself – why would Earth defend it?
Since the Dalek Wars Earth’s fleet has been operating on reduced capacity. This colony doesn’t have any mineral wealth any more and it’s not in a strategic sector.’
‘– strategic sector. ’
The Provost-General was watching the Doctor’s expression closely.
‘He doesn’t know,’ Falconstock said. ‘He’s heard of the Daleks.’
‘Perhaps it has to do with those ghosts?’
Falconstock turned back to the screen in horror, trying not to meet the Provost-General’s eyes. Medford hadn’t taken his eyes off the Doctor.
‘Perhaps.’
Medford kept watching the screen, tried to see the slightest sign that the Doctor knew more than he chose to reveal.
‘Doctor, I really do think we should get in touch with Nyssa and Tegan, let them know that we are all right.’
Without realizing it, Falconstock began working at his console as soon as he heard the names.
‘Adric, they are booked into a hotel, what could possibly happen to them there?’
‘There!’ Medford declared. ‘Check all hotel, hovtel and simtel registers. Cross-refer the names to the linguistics processors for spelling and phonetic variations.’
Falconstock’s hands danced across the keymat. ‘The Imperial Hotel, sir. Empress Park sector. Two women booked in last night under the names " “Nyssa” and
“Jovanka, Tegan M”. A “Jovanka, Bruce C” is also booked in.’
‘Five of them. Good work. Can you get identiphots of them?’
‘Accessing the hotel security grid.’
The screen went dark for a moment, then head-and-shoulders shots flashed up, one after the other.
An attractive-looking girl with brown hair and an aristocratic, somewhat haughty air.
A slightly older girl with auburn hair.
A blond-haired, blue-eyed young man with broad shoulders and a square jaw.
Falconstock looked at each of the faces in turn memorizing them. They were all so young, none older than twenty-one. Difficult to imagine that they represented a threat to the entire human race: they were little more than children. Throughout the galaxy, whatever species they might be,