Doctor Who_ Cat's Cradle_ Times Crucible - Marc Platt [30]
"Go on, beanbag," he grinned. "Get up there."
"Why?" she complained. "I'm not Spiderman."
"It's dangerous out here. If we get caught, you can do the talking."
"I gathered that."
For some reason, either the effects of hunger or just this crazy place, she half expected a flight of stone steps instantly to appear, or a spiral staircase to wind its way out of the ground like a corkscrew. A ladder at least. There was no point in hanging around being patronized by God's gift to the hippie movement. She thought about making a run for it.
"Who says I'm better off with you?" she said. "How do I know what you're dragging me into?"
He was glancing round for possible danger. "Tell you later."
"Like hell." She just wanted to curl up and be alone with her empty stomach.
"Stop arguing, Ace!" he exploded. "Now go on up there. Use the handholds."
She couldn't believe it. "Who told you my name?"
"Up!"
She decided to stay. Somewhere she found another pocket of strength to draw on. There were ribs and cracks in the surface for her hands and feet to grip and she began to haul her way up. "No!" she said sharply as she felt his supportive hands on her legs.
She reached the porthole and pushed against it. It gave in and she fell through with a yell, head first into the dark, tumbling down on to a stack of old clothes that had obviously been put there deliberately. She just lay on the heap. The porthole above clattered back on its hinge like a letterbox. Seconds later, he clambered through and landed amongst the clothes next to her.
She looked across at him. There was just enough light filtering from the porthole to make him out, but not much else.
"Wait there, clumsy," he said and disappeared into a shadow.
Who's moving? she thought, but that was all she could manage. She slid into a woozy darkness for a moment or an hour or a hundred years.
"Come on, beanbag. Eat this." He was shaking her gently awake.
Still half asleep, she picked the biscuit out of his hand and chewed on it. Even that was an effort. It tasted like sawdust mixed with sweet bacon fat. But she'd eat anything. Strangely, she felt a feeling-better feeling creeping through her almost immediately.
He passed her a leather sachet of tasteless water. As she swigged at it he studied her carefully. "Hello," he grinned, tilting his hat at a stupid angle. "I'm Shonnzi and you're called Ace."
Her instinct was to get very angry, but she curbed it and said, "How do you know that?"
He shrugged. "Rumour gets around."
"Rumour? What rumour?"
"About names. They're just words, aren't they? They travel fast. Not like real people. People take longer. That's why we had to wait." He glanced round at things that she couldn't see in the darkness. Then he gave her another biscuit. It tasted of fruit cake.
There's only one way you could know, she thought. Only one person who could have told you about me. A sense of relief swamped her. "Where is he?" she said.
Shonnzi went quiet. Even under the shadow cast by the brim of his hat, she could tell that he was frowning. "He . . . went away," he said with a niceness that was uncomfortable.
"What? What do you mean? When did he go away? Why didn't he wait?"
He turned and vanished into the shadow again.
"Oi," she yelled and it echoed.
"I'm here," said his voice. "Keep the noise down."
A flame lit. A golden light from something like a small silver candle that he was holding up in front of him. In its tiny glow she saw part of the cavernous shape of the building's inner shell. It was stacked as far as the light went with piles of dusty gear and rubbish like a junk shop.
Shonnzi came back with the light and sat by her. The flame lit one side of his face, casting the other half into darkness. "It's difficult to explain," he said.
"Well, when's he coming back? When can I see him?" She knew he wouldn't be far away. The fact that the other creature from the TARDIS was here