Doctor Who_ Atom Bomb Blues - Andrew Cartmel [97]
Butcher led Lady Silk inside, past the closed door of the bedroom, into the living room where they were all sitting around the record player. Ray and the Doctor and Ace.
Butcher shook moisture off his coat. The storm seemed to be passing over the Hill, and the rain was now easing up. He noticed that the Doctor had brought his umbrella with him. It was resting between the small man’s knees as he sat in an armchair. ‘I know why you wanted us to come here,’ said Butcher.
Ray and Ace and the Doctor exchanged a worried look. Ray had a pile of papers in his lap and was clutching a pen. His hands and face were stained with ink. ‘Really?’ said the Doctor quickly. ‘Why?’
Butcher threw his wet coat over the back of a chair. ‘Because Ray here wants to see the beautiful Lady Silk again. A last farewell. For old time’s sake.’ The girl beside Butcher said nothing, but she began to unbutton her coat.
‘No,’ said the Doctor.
‘Why, then?’ said Butcher. He was trying to decide if he should help Lady Silk off with her coat – she was, after all, a traitor – when he heard the sound of a door opening behind him. Before he could turn around he felt – for the second time in a matter of weeks – the cold pressure of a gun on the back of his neck.
‘I’ll tell you why I wanted you to come here,’ said a voice behind him. ‘Because of her.’ A hand reached down beside Butcher’s waist, fumbled with his holster, unbuttoned it and took out his gun. Then a sudden shove caused Butcher to stumble into the centre of the room. He caught his balance and turned around.
Standing there in the doorway was Imperial Lee, the Japanese punk, last seen lying at the bottom of the red well in the basement of the chapel. ‘Dead,’
said Butcher.
‘Not me,’ Imperial Lee grinned. ‘I’m alive and well.’
‘I saw you,’ said Butcher. He turned to the Doctor. ‘You touched the body yourself. You said he was dead and cold.’
‘That man was,’ said the Doctor. ‘But that man was not Imperial Lee. He was merely his double from this world.’
‘No,’ snarled Butcher. ‘Not that double talk again.’
170
‘He’s never going to believe you, Doctor,’ said Imperial Lee. He seemed very amiable and talkative, for a man with a gun in his hand. ‘Why don’t we just show him?’ He gestured for Butcher to sit down and turned to Lady Silk.
Butcher was surprised to see that the girl was looking at him with genuine loathing and fear. He reached out and touched her cheek and she flinched.
Lee grinned.
‘How can anyone not believe in parallel worlds?’ he said. ‘Parallel worlds and magic and synchronicity. What else but synchronicity could bring her here,’ he touched Lady Silk again, and again she moved away from him, ‘at the exact same time as me? It was fate. Destiny. The curve of binding energies.’
‘Don’t try and talk physics, Lee,’ said Ray, with contempt in his voice.
‘How did he get in here?’ said Butcher. ‘Los Alamos is the most secure military establishment in the entire United States.’ He had got over his astonishment at seeing a dead man brought back to life, and was now puzzling over ways and means.
Imperial Lee smiled. ‘Ray brought me here.’
Butcher turned to Ray. ‘I told them they should have locked you up. How did you manage it?’
‘With his equations,’ said Lee. ‘Or what our late friend Albert Storrow would have called his incantations. It’s probably easier if you just think of it as magic.’
Butcher looked at the pile of ink-stained pages in Ray’s lap. He laughed, a hoarse, savage sound. ‘You can point a gun at me. But you can’t make me believe that.’
‘You’ll believe it in a minute whether you like it or not,’ said Lee. ‘Because Ray’s magic was strong enough to bring me over, but not strong enough to bring Silk too. But now that her double is here,’ Lee nodded at the frightened girl, still standing there in her raincoat, ‘nothing is going to stop us.’
‘You’re talking gibberish,’ said Butcher.
‘Show him, Ray,’ said Lee. Ray Monta sighed and began scribbling on a fresh piece of paper. After a few minutes he