Doctor Who_ Cat's Cradle_ Warhead - Andrew Cartmel [90]
In the daytime this room was spacious and full of light. It had windows on two sides and caught the sun through most of the day. The walls were covered with floral wallpaper of yellow roses. At least, the roses had faded to yellow years ago. There were large patches of damp spreading down the walls from the ceiling, engulfing the pale flower patterns. Ace liked this room in the summer.
She went over and joined Justine at the bed again. The boy’s colour was a little more normal now. You could see adolescent patterns of acne around his mouth and on his forehead.
‘Hard to believe that he has so much power.’
Ace and Justine both spun around, startled by the Doctor’s voice. He came into the room and walked over to the card table. He looked into the box Ace had opened. He picked up the syringe. ‘I’ve been looking for that,’ he said, putting it into his pocket as he walked over to the bed.
‘What is it, anyway,’ said Ace, ‘this power?’
‘It seems to be an odd hybrid form of psi talent. Telepathy combined with some kind of telekinesis.’ The Doctor reached down and put a hand on the boy’s forehead. The boy stirred in his sleep and muttered something. ‘Vincent has the power to make things happen with his mind.’
‘I noticed,’ said Ace.
‘But he is only a kind of conduit. He channels power from elsewhere. It is the emotions and memories of others which provide the raw energy.’ The girl, Justine, was listening carefully to the Doctor. He looked at her and smiled. ‘You might say Vincent’s power is a kind of midwife’s power.’ He walked to the door, checking his watch. ‘Give him another three hours’ sleep, then wake him up. We’ll all have supper together.’
‘Breakfast,’ said Ace, looking out at the night sky. She looked back at the Doctor but he was already gone. The boy rolled over in his sleep, one bare arm flopping over the side of the bed. The muscles in his arms were slack and flabby. He was snoring wetly into the pillows.
‘He’s an ugly little creep, isn’t he?’
‘Look within,’ said Justine.
‘Look what?’
‘Deeper than the skin. That’s what love is, after all.’
‘I don’t think we’re talking about love here.’
‘It’s the same thing. It isn’t the outer surface that matters. It’s the entity within.’
‘Entity?’
‘The demon that dwells inside this boy.’
‘He’s not a demon. He’s a kid. An American. His name is Vincent, for Christ’s sake. His friends probably call him Vinnie.’
‘He’s a creature of power. A demon.’
Ace sighed. If it hadn’t been so late and she hadn’t been so tired, she might have let it pass. It was dangerous to tamper with someone’s beliefs. People cherished their delusions. But it was late, and Ace was bone tired, and she didn’t feel like letting it pass. ‘Crap,’ she said. ‘Crap and superstition. You heard what the Doctor said.’
‘He said that for your benefit. Didn’t you see the way he looked at me when he said it? Didn’t you see him smile at me? He was talking about midwives. Midwives were the wise women. They used the sacred herbs and poisons. They wielded power. He was talking about witchcraft.’
‘Maybe. But he was just conning you.’
‘He was conning someone.’
‘He’s using the things you believe in. Demons, witches, all that black magic crap. He knows it’s crap but he’s using it to manipulate you.’
The girl looked