Doctor Who_ Beyond the Sun - Matthew Jones [56]
‘Cool.’
He didn’t understand what she meant by this, but she hurried forward, seeming pleased. As she stepped into the faint morning sunlight which leaked in through the window, he was intrigued to notice that she was wearing pale make-up. He hadn’t seen a man or woman wear make-up since the theatres had been closed. It somehow didn’t belong to this new world at all.
‘Could you do me a favour and come with me? It’s really important.’
He allowed himself to be led along the corridor by the hand. ‘I haven’t seen you around the hospital, have I?’
She grinned, disarmingly. ‘I am so new, I’m still shrink-wrapped. Hey, you don’t have a cigarette, do you?’
He shook his head, struggling to follow her unfamiliar words. Was she a collaborator? She wasn’t wearing a plain grey uniform. But if she was, it would be dangerous to refuse her anything.
Yet Jock was still an Ursulan – he wasn’t going to just passively follow her instructions. ‘Where are you taking me?’
‘To see a patient. Special case. Very serious. Like life or death, you know what I’m saying?’
He nodded. ‘That I do understand.’
She led him to a small room in intensive care, which had been empty the previous day. One of the beds in the room was occupied. Two figures stood next to the bed; both wore white stripes, although again he had never seen either of them before. One was an attractive woman with dark hair and a serious, intelligent face. The other was a young man with grey eyes and green hair.
The woman and the young man exchanged glances as Jock walked over to the bed. There was an atmosphere of tension and anticipation between them.
He turned to the girl who had brought him here, but she only nodded towards the bed. The occupant of the bed was a boy of no more than sixteen. His face still bore the puppy fat of youth.
His eyes were closed, although Jock thought it was unlikely that he was sleeping, because his breathing was exaggerated and rapid. His short hair had been dyed white, although the roots were showing. The edge of one ear was stapled with tiny rings.
Everything about this was wrong. Jock’s unease began to spiral into panic. What was going on here? Who were these strangely dressed people? He rested a hand on the boy’s forehead. No temperature. He could see that the boy’s eyes were moving beneath their closed lids. He was alert and awake.
Jock looked at the woman standing opposite him. He decided that the less he said the better.
‘Well?’
The older woman had a sad expression on her face, as if she were troubled about something.
‘Perhaps you have already guessed that he’s not your patient.’
The boy opened his eyes and stared up at him. Jock was rather surprised when the boy smiled at him. It was an open smile, not malicious, as if the boy had been enjoying playing a harmless game with him.
‘Then what do you want of me?’
‘A friend of mine, of ours, is hurt. I need you to come with us and treat him.’
Jock took a step back from the bedside, narrowing his eyes. Was this some complicated test designed by the collaborating administration to trap him? It struck him as a rather clumsy way of attempting to trick him into revealing his sympathies. However, the idea that he was now suspected of resisting terrified him. Would the Sunless be coming for him next? Would he be the next person screaming in vain for help to the mute witnesses that had once been his friends?
He decided to brazen it out. ‘If your friend is hurt, bring him to the hospital where his need for medical assistance can be assessed. If he is worth treating, he will be.’
The green-haired boy moved towards him angrily. ‘How can you measure people’s value?’ he began, clearly ready to argue. The woman pulled him back and he fell silent, biting on his anger.
‘Look, we don’t have time for this. A man is dying. Take it from me, he won’t qualify for treatment here. Will you please help us?’
The strange