Doctor Who_ Beyond the Sun - Matthew Jones [37]
He examined the wound on Errol’s thigh, flicking the loose end of the tourniquet with his fingers. ‘Did you do this?’ His tone was neither disapproving nor approving.
‘If you mean did I dress the wound, then yes. He was injured when our ship was attacked.’
‘The wound won’t heal like this. You’ve cut off the blood supply to his leg.’
Bernice felt a wave of irritation at this remark. She was too exhausted to take criticism easily and was about to tell this strange boy that he should try doing first aid under combat conditions but bit her tongue. It wouldn’t be a good idea to alienate her rescuer. The young man continued his examination and Bernice was given the impression that he had been merely making an observation about the tourniquet rather than making a judgement of her skills.
She began to unfasten the clasps that ran down one side of her suit. Out of the water it was enormously heavy and she was finding it difficult to move about in. The suit clattered as it hit the ground. Concrete – she was standing on something concrete. The lake wasn’t a natural phe-nomenon. A reservoir, then. Which – along with the clothes the boy had retrieved from the bank –
suggested an industrial society at the very least. Maybe this prohibited world would have medical facilities.
‘I’m Bernice,’ she said. ‘What’s your name?’ She nodded when he told her. Scott was an old Earth name. It wasn’t what she had been expecting at all.
‘Have you come because of the Sunless?’ he asked, not looking up as he tore the yellow strips from his overall and used them to bind the wound. He seemed to take pleasure in tearing the outfit apart.
‘Sunless? Er, no. At least, I don’t think so. I was actually looking for my husband.’
‘Husband? What’s a husband?’
Bernice grinned. Ah, this prohibited world was civilized indeed. ‘Scott, I think I must have died and gone to heaven.’
It took them over an hour to carry Errol through the forest. He was awake now, sobbing quietly because of the pain. Crimson blossoms had already spread across the yellow bandages around his thigh. Scott directed them through a forest of tall trees, which reminded Bernice of giant pines.
The trees gave off a sweet scent and left a slight stickiness on her bare arms as she brushed past them in the darkness.
The other side of the forest opened out on to cultivated land. Scott led them to a small barn in the corner of a field, full of old equipment covered in dust sheets. It didn’t look as if the barn had been in use for a long time.
The journey had been hard on Errol, who seemed to relax a little when he was laid on the barn floor. She found a couple of empty sacks and made a pillow out of them. His bald head was slip-pery with cold sweat. He offered Bernice a brave smile but she could see the agony in his one good eye. The plastic which had splattered against the side of his face had hardened into a half-mask. The flesh around it was blistered and red raw. He needed proper medical attention.
The boy – Scott – had lit a small stacked stove which stood in the corner of the barn. Bernice walked over and watched the flames burn the kindling visible in the small window at the front of the stove. Scott was wearing his torn clothes, having draped his wet underwear on top of the stove, where it gently began to steam. His grey eyes glinted like metal in the firelight. There was something incredibly self-contained about his behaviour. He approached every task methodically, whether it was treating Errol’s injuries or merely filling the stove with wood. His thoughtfulness didn’t seem appropriate to someone his age. Bernice reminded herself that he wasn’t human and she was only projecting her own cultural perspective on to him. A classic but unavoidable problem in all social science, as she so often told her students.
She tucked her shirt into her combat trousers. ‘Thank you, Scott,’ she said, and cleared her throat. ‘You’ve been very kind. I’m not sure what I would have done on my own.’ She realized as she spoke that they’d barely exchanged a word on their journey through the forest.
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