Doctor Who_ Cat's Cradle_ Times Crucible - Marc Platt [34]
There is only here and now, but its future must be secure. Vael Phazel, its long-term emissary, is no longer a need. One hundred and forty-four other eyes search the arteries of its world. Seek out the disruption, smash the alternative. Just as it destroyed the Doctor long ago — in the Beginning, when it is the Process that creates the world.
Ace was less surprised by the look she got, more by the length of time it lasted. "Dear Gods," was all one of them, the older woman, could manage.
They stared at her in apparent disbelief. The heavy man, Reogus, slid sideways towards the other younger woman and fumbled to take her hand, like a frightened child seeking reassurance from its mother. "Chesperl," he said. She was even taller than he was, with a kind but careworn face. But then both the women were taller than the men.
Go on then, thought Ace. This is it. The Doctor always catches them on the hop. Don't give them a chance to think. "Hello, I'm Ace," she said with a forced grin, and nearly added, "and this is the Doctor", but stopped herself just in time.
Silence.
Close to, they were weirder than she had imagined. Each of them caught in the half-shadows cast by the single candle flame. They couldn't have been born into poverty. Their accents had given that away. So their general squalor had been descended into, as if they had given up bothering. Their long hair fell past their shoulders in greasy filaments. Their faces were thin and drawn with sallow skin, but there were no traces of beards on the men. The great coats and overalls they wore were torn and filthy. Yet a pile of other clothes, evidently second-hand, lay neglected beside them. All around was the collection of dusty relics and antiques that made the place resemble a long-lost car boot sale.
"Well, say something," said Ace, and she suddenly felt a renewed need to have a long bath.
Shonnzi, his face tight with restrained emotion, moved in beside Ace. "You could have waited," he muttered and turned back to the others. "All right, grumblies," he announced with a flourish. "This is Ace. Remember?" It was as if he was turning a knife. "This is why we should be celebrating."
"Why is she here?" Pekkary's voice was dulled with shock. He pulled the loose hair down over one side of his face. "Why has she come back?"
"Because something's happening, you stuffy old goiks," sneered Shonnzi. "Something new. Come on, wake up, grannies. Throw away your sticks. Things are changing at last."
"No," intoned Pekkary. Fear was taking over from shock, but nothing overlaid his general air of weariness. He turned to the older woman. "It's the same thing, Amnoni. It's come back to us again."
Amnoni stepped closer to Ace, staring at her as if she were a laboratory specimen. Despite her filthy appearance, the woman maintained a dignity that suggested rank. "We should never have gone to that section, I said that. I knew we would disturb things. First the apparition. Now this."
"Yeah, punch me and I squeak," snapped Ace. "Since you know all about the Doctor, you'd better tell me where he is, all right? I'm a friend of his."
"It's the same," despaired Pekkary. "Just as before." He turned away, shaking his head.
"What are they on about?" said Ace to Shonnzi. "It's not true. What they said in the story."
Shonnzi shrugged. "If that's what they say happened. I was too young to understand properly."
"What do you mean, too young? How long ago was it?"
"How long?" interrupted Amnoni, puzzled. "Does she mean, how far?"
"It was in the Beginning," said Pekkary, turning back to Ace. "On the first Phase, when Shonnzi was still a youngster."
"Daft goik, I'm not that old," snapped Shonnzi.
Ace felt something like emotional vertigo. Time storms and Timewyrms. Always time playing its tricks on her. "How long? Five years? Ten?" How long had she been tombed up in those rocks? How old was she now? She didn't dare look in a mirror. "What about the Doctor?