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Doctor Who_ Christmas on a Rational Planet - Lawrence Miles [86]

By Root 528 0
huddled inside the overturned carriage on Hazelrow Avenue, didn’t much care about any of these things.

The carriage had been tipped onto its side and its roof had been torn off, letting her and Daniel shelter from the storm inside the cabin, with the seats behind them and the side-door above their heads. Roz was screaming so hard that she couldn’t even hear it, so hard that it had just become background noise. Something was still pushing its way out of her wrist, a string of bone and muscle that congealed into an ugly, dark-skinned shape on the ground in front of her. At first, she’d thought the tissue spewing from the wound had been her own, but if that had been true, her arm would have been an empty sausage-skin by now. She had no idea where the stuff was coming from, but she didn’t much care.

‘What is it?’ Daniel shrieked.

But the shape was already starting to develop arms and legs, and a head tore its way out of the biomass, growing teeth and hair and cheekbones. The thing raised a hand to its face, using its fingernails to punch holes in the skin for eyes.

Abruptly, the pain stopped. Roz gulped back a sob, and looked up. Daniel had crawled out from the shelter of the carriage and found himself a weapon, a sharp spoke snapped from one of the wheels. He was standing out in the rain now, pointing the spoke at the shape’s head and trying his best to look threatening, but the thing was already rolling out into the middle of the road and pulling itself upright. Roz heard joints and muscles pop into place.

‘Roslyn Inyathi Forrester?’ it asked.

Roz met its gaze. Daniel glanced between her and the shape, as if comparing them.

‘Sheol,’ said Roz. ‘My wrist. I should’ve realized...’

The shape nodded.

‘My wrist contains my identification implant. I never had it taken out when I left home, did I?’

‘The presence of an ID implant in the anatomy of an Imperial citizen is mandatory under the Sixteenth Criminal Justice Empowerment, except in those cases outlined in the Corporate Faiths Amendment of 2939,’ decreed the shape. ‘Or had you forgotten?’

‘Forrester –’ began Daniel.

‘The amaranth,’ said Roz, ignoring him ‘The amaranth rebuilds things using whatever information’s available. Like, for instance, the information in my implant. Genetic data, personality matrices. Adjudication codes. The amaranth grew you out of the implant like it was a seed or something.’

‘Forrester?’ said Daniel. ‘I don’t understand. Is she you?’

The shape frowned at him ‘I’m nothing like her. She’s a fugitive, she’s wanted by the Order of Adjudicators in the thirtieth century. And, come to think of it, I’m definitely not the kind who’d open fire on an innocent bystander just because he has the same surname as a future president.’

That stung.

‘This cow used to be a good Adjudicator,’ continued the Roz-shaped shape. ‘Well, maybe an okay Adjudicator. But there’s nothing worse than a bent cop. Now she’s just a traitor.’

‘Oh, and you’re not?’ growled Roz.

Her dopplegänger shook her head. ‘Nope. I’m based on the data from your implant, remember. Old data. From before you started hanging out with alien lowlife. From the time when you called yourself Roslyn Sarah Forrester, because you didn’t want to have to keep explaining what "Inyathi" meant and you didn’t want to talk about your family because everyone would figure out how much more successful your sister was. It’s all in the implant.’ Roz-2 touched her chest, where the heart should be.

‘I get the idea,’ said Roz. ‘Can I ask a question?’

‘Shoot.’

‘Why are you pointing that thing at me?’

Roz-2’s finger brushed the trigger-stud of her flenser gun.

‘Like I said, you’re a wanted criminal I’m just doing my job.

The same way you used to. Nothing personal, Roz.’

‘I haven’t had a fair trial,’ Roz protested.

‘Yeah, right. When did that ever stop you?’ Roz-2

shrugged. ‘See, we used to have a lot in common, but we just don’t talk any more.’

‘Uh-huh. Aren’t we forgetting something?’

‘Yeah? What?’

Before Roz-2 even finished speaking, Roz leapt out of the carriage, sliding ever-so-slightly on the wet

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