Doctor Who_ Camera Obscura - Lloyd Rose [105]
‘It’s a green man,’ said the Doctor. ‘Come on, there’s nothing here.’
She examined the face a moment more before following him. ‘Green,’ she said. ‘Is it then one of the Gentry?’
‘No one knows what the green man represents. Maybe rebirth. Maybe the spirit of the forest.’
‘Is it a good or an evil spirit?’
‘No one knows that either. Listen to me, Miss Kelly, you really must stop sneaking –’ The Doctor turned to continue his lecture to her face, but she was gone.
* * *
The Doctor and Sabbath weren’t actually resting by the waterfall – they had just finished talking with two fishermen on their way home who, of course, hadn’t seen anything unusual.
‘We’re too early,’ said the Doctor. ‘He hasn’t arrived yet.’
Sabbath nodded. ‘The crates containing the machine will have slowed him down.’
‘Well, he has a spatial plane interfacer, so carrying the machine won’t be a problem for him. But he might still be a while.’
‘It would be difficult for him to travel by train without attracting attention.’
‘If he used a carriage, he’d have to trust the driver.’
‘A journey by horse would take several days.’
‘Particularly as he’s almost certainly travelling only at night.’
They fell silent. The Doctor’s eyes roved over the trees. No sign of the Angel-Maker, but he knew she was nearby.
‘So,’ he said, ‘we simply have to wait for him to turn up.’
‘Unless he has another hiding place even his dead brother didn’t know about.’
‘There is that,’ sighed the Doctor. He pulled his feet out of the water and drew his knees up under his chin, wrapping his arms around them, his pale eyes fixed on the foaming falls. There were bits of twig and green leaf in his dishevelled hair. Silva daemonium, thought Sabbath with ironic erudition. To him, at that moment, the Doctor looked much younger than that fool he travelled with. A sick boy. Sabbath wondered idly whether the loss of his heart, which had saved his life, would in the long run kill him.
‘That’s four times now, you realise.’
‘Doesn’t count,’ said the Doctor. ‘You had the ride of your life. Fair exchange.’
Sabbath shrugged graciously. ‘You know, Doctor, even allowing for the, ah, unique circumstances of your last near-death experience, it’s extraordinary how often you’re plucked out of trouble at the last minute.’
‘Is it?’
‘Rescuers turn up. Weapons jam. Your companions, who, if you will forgive me, don’t strike me as more than usually competent, save the day. Buildings explode immediately after you find the way out. Cities fall just as the TARDIS dematerialises.’
‘Exaggerated reports, I assure you.’
‘Electrical currents short-circuit. Evil masterminds make foolish errors. If you fall out of a window, there’s something to catch you. If you’re drowning, a spar floats by. You find your way unsinged out of burning houses.’
‘Where do you get all this stuff? I don’t remember half of it.’
‘You survive alien mind probes that would boil the average brain in its skull. You are dug unharmed from beneath fallen rubble. No one ever shoots you in the head. Deadly drugs turn out not to affect you. Villains tie you up too loosely, and hide-bound tyrants’ convictions falter at your rhetoric. In short,’ Sabbath finished smoothly, ‘in your presence, the odds collapse.’
‘What have you been doing – studying up on the legends of my presumed people, the so-called Elementals? I wish you’d stop using that word, by the way. Whatever I may be, it’s not a chameleon or a sprite.’
‘I use the word as it refers to an ultimate constituent of reality. And listen to your own words: “Whatever I may be” But what is that? Has anyone ever taken you apart to find out?’
The Doctor grimaced. ‘Not yet.’
‘But not for want of trying. More lucky escapes.’
‘Really, Sabbath, this is quite silly.’ The Doctor began to put back on his socks. ‘Certainly I’ve been lucky in my time, perhaps unusually so, but a series of anecdotal incidents doesn’t add up to a pattern.’
‘Disaster flies at you,’ said Sabbath, ‘and then, suddenly, it swerves aside. As if it encountered a force field.’
‘Well, it didn’t.’ The