Cold Fusion - Lance Parkin [80]
The Doctor gazed across the cavern. He could just make out Roz. At this distance she looked just like a bluebottle in her armour. She hadn’t been challenged so far, but was still only halfway to the doorway. He fished out his pocket watch and checked the time. That done, they began climbing again.
Tegan awoke surrounded by fur. She was lying flat on her back on a furlined bed, underneath a fur blanket. Her head still hurt. There was a sensation of movement, as if they were on a boat or a plane. There was a creaking noise above her and a rich smell all around. She opened her eyes, and found herself looking up at a wood-panelled ceiling.
She shifted onto her side, pulling her arm out from under the sheet. She was wearing an unfamiliar white garment made from a material that felt like cotton. It was a one-piece outfit with a polo neck, stretched tight as a second skin except at the cuffs and ankles. A leotard, the sort of thing an aerobics instructor would wear.
A young man was sitting by the bed, stirring a steaming mug. He was in his mid-twenties, with high cheekbones.
Tegan sat up, pulling the blanket over her chest.
Although she was covered from neck to toe, the outfit she was wearing left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It must have been quite a feat getting her into it while she was unconscious. ‘Who undressed me?’
The man smiled knowingly, reaching out with the mug.
Tegan didn’t take it. He wore plenty of clothes: a blue tunic with gold buttons down the side, and breeches. He looked as if he had stopped off here on the way to a fancy dress party with a pirate theme. ‘You’ve got a lovely couple of moles, you know? Just above your left –’
‘Do you have a name?’ she demanded, angry now.
‘Adam,’ he said. ‘You may have heard of me.’ His accent was somewhere between Welsh and Scottish, a gentle lilt.
‘No.’
‘Take this, it’ll warm you up a bit more and help with that sore head. Take it from me that you’re covered in bruises.’ She recognized him from somewhere, but couldn’t place it.
The drink smelt of citrus fruit. Tegan sipped at it.
When she spoke again she was a little calmer, ‘We’re on a ship?’
‘A snowship.’
‘Like a skitrain: a boat that runs on skis?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Made of wood?’
‘Pine, stolen from government plantations. It doesn’t show up too well on sensor scans and you don’t lose your fingers If you touch it in cold weather.’
Tegan poked her foot out of the bed and found the floor.
Varnished wood, like the walls and ceiling. She stood finding it easier to balance than she had thought. She stretched, Adam studying her the whole time. He did his best to look like a connoisseur rather than a voyeur. She faced him, her hands crossed over her chest. ‘Where’s the Doctor?’
‘He’s with Quint in the map room.’
‘I want to see him.’
‘Would you be wanting to put your clothes on first?’
Adam indicated behind her, where the Air Australia uniform, handbag and coat were hanging. Her underwear and jewellery were lying on a bench by the hook, even her laddered tights, There was also a pair of plimsoles. A curtain hung there, making that corner of the room look like a changing cubicle at the swimming baths.
‘You can pull the curtain across if you want some privacy.’
‘I’m not stupid,’ Tegan informed him.
‘Shame,’ Adam said. ‘In my experience the stupid are OK. It’s the clever ones that you have to watch out for.’
Tegan drew the curtain across.
‘I wouldn’t put that ring back on, you were lucky you didn’t get a nasty burn from it.’
It was good advice, and it explained why her ring finger was so sore. She slipped the jewellery into her jacket pocket. Tegan started to remove the leotard, then it dawned on her that she didn’t know how to: it was a one-piece outfit with a polo neck that wouldn’t stretch. There wasn’t a zip, a row of buttons or a strip of Velcro. She turned, ready to ask Adam how it was done, but she