Doctor Who_ Camera Obscura - Lloyd Rose [95]
Perhaps not everything... Far above, in what appeared to be only a dull, undefined void, there were occasional darting, flapping sounds. Not quite like birds. Not quite like anything he recognised at all, actually...
‘I want to know who you are,’ said the Doctor. ‘And who Nathaniel is. And who or what that third one is. And what happened to the others of you.’
‘There are no others,’ said Chiltern. His voice was dull and flat, though his eyes, fixed on the Doctor, were attentive.
‘Just the three of you.’
‘There are only two.’
‘Two?’ said the Doctor stupidly. ‘But then... Wait, I see – Nathaniel is your twin. Not a fractured piece of you – your natural brother.’
‘Yes.’
‘So you’re complete, aren’t you? You never went into the machine.’
‘I never went into the machine. I sent Nathaniel. Then I was to follow him.’
‘Follow him where?’
‘Into the future. Until I found the cure.’
Though Chiltern’s face had no expression, for a moment the Doctor could not look at him. ‘He was mad, your brother.’
‘Yes.’
‘You thought you were to blame. That you stole his life. You must have told him, because the fragment of him that I know as Nathaniel remembers that, has made it a part of him. He took your guilt because it matched some subliminal guilt of his at not being turned into a monster.’
Chiltern didn’t respond. It doesn’t work like that, the Doctor wanted to say. You could no more have stolen your brother’s sanity than his taste in wines or his musical preferences. It wasn’t your fault. You’ve put everything, everything, at risk to make up for this, and it wasn’t even your fault. But he kept his mouth shut. Why tell a dead man he’d wasted his life?
‘Why did your brother split into two pieces instead of eight?’
‘You waste your questions,’ said Chiltern.
‘Yes,’ the Doctor agreed. He was, he realised, hesitating, afraid to get to the important question, afraid of having to face the possibility that it might not have an answer. ‘The other one... He’s fled Dartmoor. He can’t return to the clinic. Where might he have gone?’ Chiltern wavered, as if he might vanish. ‘Tell me,’ the Doctor pressed, ‘and possibly I can help him.’
‘Capel Gorast.’
‘Wales?’ said the Doctor in surprise.
‘On our mother’s side there is a ruined house. For generations we could neither afford to live in it nor find anyone to buy it, only let it fall apart. We were taken to see it once as boys.’ Something like expression crept into Chiltern’s face. ‘Tell me,’ he said falteringly, ‘is my brother...? He’s alone now. Is he all r‐’
With a shriek, a cloud of claws and wings swept down on Chiltern. His head flew back and his mouth opened, but he was gone before any cry emerged, either carried away or dissolved to smoke, the Doctor couldn’t tell which. He sprang to his feet in horror, and a bony hand closed on the back of his neck.
‘Intruder,’ said the clammy voice in his ear. ‘Desecrater. Defiler. Did you truly think you could come here and with mere pleasing words avoid my judgement?’
* * *
The Doctor’s head rolled on the pillow and he gave a tiny cry. Anji jumped up and bent over him. His lips were parted, his face creased with pain. Sweat beaded on his brow, but when she felt his forehead he was cold. ‘Oh God.’
Fitz was suddenly in the room with her. ‘What’s happening?’
‘I don’t know. He’s so cold.’
‘I’ll get another blanket.’
‘And a new hot water bottle,’ she called as he ran from the room. She went to the fire and added wood. ‘And more wood,’ she muttered. ‘And... and...’ Abruptly, she sat down on the floor. This is it, she thought, slumping against the fireplace surround, her cheek pressed to the brick. If he survives this, if I survive this, I’m going home. I’m going home, I’m going home, I’m going home, I’m –
‘Anj?’ Fitz was back.
‘I’m all right.