Doctor Who_ Beyond the Sun - Matthew Jones [110]
And then he had begun to piece together the true nature of Iranda’s task. Gradually he had learnt about the device she wished to construct, and the more he had learnt the more fearful he had become. Until one night, after a long day when they had failed to negotiate a sale with a stubborn private collector, they had broken into his private museum and stolen the female visionary. That night they had celebrated and Iranda had drunkenly boasted of the power now at her disposal. He had spent a restless night worrying about what he had done, and then in the morning he’d slipped away before she had woken.
And where had he gone?
He glanced at Bernice. Back to the one person in the whole universe who had ever genuinely loved him. And now he had messed that up. Probably irretrievably.
A group of Sunless marched past and strode out into the blizzards. Despite their faces being open to the elements, they didn’t even break their stride.
Benny handed him the respirator and nodded her readiness. He took a final breath of oxygen-rich air and then stowed the mask.
It was now or never.
Benny turned to her friends. ‘Masks off, everyone. Keep in step and try not to use your hands to cover your face. Try to think like a psychotic alien git.’ She turned to look at him. ‘Which some of us will find easier than others.’
He frowned.
‘Now, by the left . . .’ she ordered.
The six ersatz Sunless stepped out from their hiding place and marched in time out of the tunnel, following the group of the genuine article ahead of them.
Iranda stood on the bridge of the ship, waiting for the last of the Sunless to board. The journey would be a short one. It would only be a matter of hours before they reached the target site a few thousand kilometres to the north.
The Ache was stronger than ever today. Like an addiction, it carved out a hollowness inside her body, emphasizing the absence of . . . what? She didn’t know. It had been in her life for so long she couldn’t imagine being without its nagging presence. Only Nikolas shared the Ache. Only he truly understood.
She glanced at a nearby monitor. The main ramp of the ship was still down. There was a Sunless standing there, motionless. She could see a group approaching the ship. She hoped they were the last. She hadn’t wanted to wait for the troops, but the Sunless had insisted on a substantial presence and, as ever, there had been no question of negotiation with them.
With nothing else to do she contented herself by watching their progress across the rocky ter-rain.
The wind had ripped the breath from her lungs as soon as she had stepped out of the protection of the tunnel entrance. Tameka tried to suck the oxygen out of the cold air and had to suppress a strong urge to pull her respirator out of her pocket.
The wind bit into her exposed ears and scalp. Coldness quickly faded into a numbness which threatened to seep into her brain. The storm raged against her. It was as if the planet were trying to force its way inside her body. She had to squint to see the ramp of the ship. It was at least a hundred metres away. And all the while a Sunless stood at the bottom of the ramp, staring at them impassively. Observing their every step with clinical detachment.
She began to feel panicked. What if they recognize each other by smell or something we didn’t think of? What if it knows we’re phoneys?
A little over three-quarters of the way across the plain, Tameka began to feel seriously light-headed. The air around her was so thin that she felt as if she had a plastic bag around her head, and she was just breathing the same breath over and over. She couldn’t feel the cold at all now.
Her face felt solid, numb.
Ahead of her, in the middle of their party, Emile faltered and stumbled to his knees. His ears had turned an angry red against his pale scalp. His bare hands slipped on the ice as he struggled to his feet, his