Doctor Who_ Alien Bodies - Lawrence Miles [134]
‘But right now, you’re inside my personal head space. I’m right about that, aren’t I?’
‘YES. OH, DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE GOING TO GO INTO SENSORY WITHDRAWAL AGAIN. WE’VE BEEN THROUGH ALL THAT.’
‘I wasn’t going to.’ Sam was shaking her head. The Doctor wondered what she was really saying, behind the Shift’s words. ‘You’re forgetting something, “Mr” Shift. It wasn’t just biodata sensitivity I picked up while I held the Presidency. We’ve got all sorts of secrets, where I come from.’
The Doctor could have sworn he saw Sam’s eyes open wide in alarm. ‘WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?’
‘I’m saying I left a little something for you inside my mind, after the last time we met there. Ready?’
‘Ready for what?’ asked Sam. The Doctor felt the Shift moving around inside his consciousness. It was on the threshold, trying to escape through his senses, ready to pop out and into someone else’s perceptions.
He flexed a neural muscle. He could have sworn he heard the sound of a cage door being swung shut on the inside of his head.
‘Gotcha,’ he said.
‘Sorry, have you gone mad or something?’ asked Sam, who’d completely missed the fact that anything had happened at all.
‘I’ll explain later,’ the Doctor assured her. ‘Now all we have to do is deal with the Relic. Ah. I seem to be lying on the floor. Could you help me up, do you think? Thank you.’
Mr Qixotl listened. Everything was quiet; the hall had even run out of muzak to spew at him. For once, nothing was shouting at him, swearing at him, or threatening him. He was the only one there, if you could ignore the remains of the Raston lap-dancers. Well, so much for “the most perfect dancing machines ever devised”.
He sat on his chair, in front of the remains of the conference table, running his hand across the skin under his shirt. The hole was gone. Completely healed over. The shirt was a mess, but there was no sign of injury. Even his legs had been fixed up.
What kind of deal had he made, for pity’s sake? What had he let himself in for? He knew all about the Celestis, about the way they’d “mark” corporeal life-forms, so their souls would be under Celestine control even after death. But Trask had promised him, assured him, he hadn’t been marked. He’d simply been “recorporated”. The Celestis had the power to do that, apparently, to bind someone to their mortal form and patch them up a bit. Qixotl didn’t know how the process worked. Too much like voodoo for his liking, really.
Two sets of footsteps came clumping down the corridor towards the conference hall, breaking the silence. Qixotl didn’t bother looking up. He knew who it’d be.
‘Quite a successful conclusion, all things considered,’ said the Doctor.
There was a long pause, so Qixotl assumed the Doctor had been talking to him. ‘Uh,’ he said.
‘The Krotons are gone, and the Shift’s out of the way, at least for the time being. All we have to do is deal with the Relic, and we can all go home.’
Qixotl finally looked up. The Doctor was staring at him expectantly. His companion hovered at his side, looking as awkward as ever.
‘The Relic,’ the Doctor prompted him. ‘Where is it?’
Qixotl shrugged. ‘Look, what can I say? I was dying. I got shot up by the Krotons. I would’ve bitten the dust if it hadn’t been for Trask.’
The Doctor looked confused. ‘Trask? Why, what did Trask do?’
‘He made the arrangements. With the Celestis. I didn’t have a choice, right? He made me this offer, before the auction got going. He said he’d give me the ability of, what do they call it, “perpetual recorporation”. I mean, when it came down to it, he kind of backed out. He said he’d only recorporate me the once, I could take it or leave it. I know, I know, I could have asked for more, but I was dying there, y’know?’
The human girl’s jaw dropped. ‘You mean...?’
‘Yeah. Trask saved my life. In exchange for the Relic. He took it back to Mictlan five minutes ago. Don’t look at me like that.’
THE DEAD MAN’S STORY
The Light
I have to tell my story. I have to give myself more time. I’m trying to stay in one piece... I mean,