Doctor Who_ Alien Bodies - Lawrence Miles [37]
A sigh from the darkness. ‘Let’s all calm down a moment here, yeah? Security’s fine, Mr H, everything’s on the level. Just a little bit of a misunderstanding, OK?’
‘You’re saying this idiot’s another one of your bidders?’ The dead man made a sickly coughing noise that sounded a bit like “hah”. ‘How many more surprises have you got lined up for us, Qixotl?’
‘Look, I think what’s happening here is, we’re all getting a bit tensed up. Right? We need to sit back for a while and, y’know, take stock.’ The Doctor concentrated on the voice. It came from one of the shadowy figures, but...
He sat bolt upright. The dead man jumped back, a look of sheer panic splattering itself across his features.
‘I’m not here!’ the Doctor shouted.
Five pairs of eyes blinked at him. At least one of them, he guessed, was artificial.
‘I mean, I’m not where I thought I was,’ the Doctor explained. ‘Some form of hallucination, probably. I’m sorry, I thought you were all timeless beings of unlimited evil, and I’d come here to defeat you.’
There was a stony silence. The Doctor had a good look around. The chamber was small-ish, certainly not the grand hall he’d imagined. The walls were made out of ersatz stone, but there was an incongruous cocktail bar stuck in one corner. The leather chairs didn’t exactly fit the style of the place, either.
There were eight other life-forms in the room. Two were human, wearing contemporary military uniforms. UNISYC insignia on their breast pockets, the Doctor noted. Then there were the Paradox cultists he’d seen earlier. The fifth individual was the woman who’d accosted him in the corridor, the one whose face had opened up and swallowed him, and yes, he’d have to think about the ramifications of that at some point. Next to her was a rumpled little man who looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. The Doctor got the impression he’d wanted to be somewhere else ever since he’d been born.
Then there was the dead man. Now the Doctor was seeing things a little more clearly, the man seemed much healthier than he had done. He still looked a bit under the weather, and he still smelled like he’d washed in eau de chemical spillage, but other than that, he could almost have been human.
The Doctor held out his hand. ‘I apologise. You’re alive after all. My mistake.’ The man took another step back, and shot a nervous glance at the woman with the unfolding head. The Doctor retracted his hand, then struggled to his feet, making a big song and dance out of the movement. Giving himself time to think. “Bidders”, the man in the smelly suit had said. “Bidders”. These people had all been invited here, presumably by the nervous-looking individual. Therefore...
‘I’m here for the auction,’ he announced. There was a long silence. Those assembled in the room stared at him blankly. The Doctor crossed a couple of metaphorical fingers.
Then all eyes turned on the nervous man. He squirmed accordingly.
Qixotl. That was the name the not-actually-dead man had used. The Doctor strode forward, his hand outstretched. ‘You must be Mr Qixotl. Nice to meet you, at last. I’ve been looking forward to this for, oh, ages, I should think.’
Another tense moment. Then Qixotl took his hand. The Doctor wasn’t sure, but he thought he felt a degree of relief in Qixotl’s shake. ‘Yeah, hi. Glad you could, y’know. Make it.’
The bigger-on-the-inside woman spoke again. ‘Explain. If he’s invited, why doesn’t he have an invitation?’
The Doctor and Qixotl exchanged glances. ‘Oh, mine must have got lost in the post,’ the Doctor blathered. He had no idea why Qixotl was going along with the bluff, but he wasn’t going to argue the point. He cast his eyes around the room, looking for an excuse to derail the conversation, and his gaze settled on one of the humans, the man in the UNISYC outfit with the officer’s stripes on his shoulder. ‘Sergeant... Colonel Kortez!’ the Doctor exclaimed. ‘So good to see a familiar face. Still reading