Doctor Who_ Cats Cradle_ Witch Mark - Andrew Hunt [9]
'So where can we get some more?'
'I haven't the faintest idea. Gallifrey, perhaps Axos, even Nestene matter might work.' He paused and scratched his head. 'Ace where did I put my hat?'
Ace turned and pulled open the semicircular doors of a cupboard set into one of the wall roundels.
Something like quicksilver darted past her shoulder and landed lightly on the sloping console.
Ace spun round in time to see the mercurial silver cat leap deftly amongst the controls and then plunge head first into the monitor screen where it left a burning afterimage which remained some time after the rest of it had gone..
The central time column began to rise and fall, Its interior rotor easing slowly into motion.
Suddenly the floor heaved and Ace was flung against the wall. Vibrations rocked the TARDIS and its dimensions twisted.
Its mathematical anchors pulling free of the nexus point, the TARDIS threw an algebraic lifeline into the vortex. It looped wildly and then caught. As the equations hardened into reality, the real world interface was inserted into a new locale.
A light drizzle began to speckle the TARDIS’s outer plasmic hull.
1:
Arrivals
The sudden transition into darkness momentarily blind Cheiron, but knowing what followed close behind he couldn't afford the few seconds it would take to acclimatize.
Earth flew as he kicked his feet and took off into the surrounding gloom, dodging vaguely seen trees and desperately hoping that he would not lose his footing on the uneven ground, lumpy with protruding stones. At his rear, he heard shouts begin midword and he doubled his pace, arms thrust out to ward off low branches. An arrow streaked past him and for a brief moment he began to doubt the wisdom of his actions since he had seen the break in the wall.
Sudden pain seared his flank and his legs, out of control for a heartbeat, flung him into the embrace of a welcoming birch tree. He pushed himself away from it and resought his direction. It was given to him by the cries of his pursuers and gathering speed again he groped at the arrow in his side. The shaft snapped, leaving the arrowhead still within him. He flung the wand of oak away from him and lengthened his stride, striking up a new rhythm on the soft earth.
This was not at all what he had expected. Being what he was he knew that there were dangers involved, that he could not be sure of a warm welcome, but this place seemed no different to that which he had left. He had heard that it was practically overflowing with people, but where were they? The only people were those firing arrows at him.
At last his eyes were growing used to the darkness, or was it that the trees were thinning and letting in some light? Now he could see that he was as before in a valley and so he aimed to escape up its sides.
Around him the trees definitely were thinning out and a pale, watery light gave the grass, damp with rain, a silvery sheen. The ground was rising before him; small outcroppings of rock broke through the sparsely vegetated hillside, silent sentinels to his increasingly weary labourings.
A deafening crack assailed his ears, sending echoes up and down the valley, and heat tore down his arm, followed by a ready stream of blood. He gave a wild howl to release some of the pain and drove upwards.
Finally he crested the hill and found himself on a small flat ridge. He turned and gave a brief look down into the valley. Not far from the edge of the trees, a small band of men was labouring up the gradient. He drew back hurriedly and positioned himself on the far side of the ridge, out of sight of his pursuers. But as he did this, he looked into the sky and saw the white orb floating there. It wasn't like either of the suns, because it had features upon it, and it was a discomfiting reminder that he was in a new world. Tearing his fascinated gaze away from the mysterious globe he thanked Dagda that it gave out such a small