Doctor Who_ Corpse Marker - Chris Boucher [27]
‘Should they look that human?’ another of the men said.
‘They’re not supposed to look like us, are they? Isn’t that forbidden?’
‘It’s a very impressive production technique,’ the Doctor said. ‘I imagine those tanks grow the organics round some sort of basic framework?’
‘Shut up.’ The leader said, reaching forward with the weapon.
The Doctor could see the man wanted to take his eyes off him but he needed to make sure that he could strike at him with the smallest of movements. That way he could look at the crowd without any risk. Hoping to encourage him to look away, the Doctor said, ‘Strictly speaking, I think that might make them cyborgs rather than robots but it’s a moot point.’
‘I said shut up,’ the man snapped.
‘Yes you did. I’m sorry, I quite forgot.’ The Doctor smiled his most open and friendly smile and waited for the man to stop watching his face and glance towards the dome.
Perhaps in that moment of inattention it would be possible to disarm him, or dodge away from him, or something.
And it was going to happen at any moment.
At any moment the man’s eyes would blink and his look would refocus.
And so whatever it was the Doctor was going to do he would have to decide on it soon.
And the man blinked and his look shifted past the Doctor’s shoulder and the Doctor thought, Now I do it now, and he took a half step backwards to distance himself from the tip of the weapon and he reached for the man’s wrist.
Before the move was complete the man looked at the Doctor and for an aching instant they both froze.
‘Hold it! Stop!’ a voice shouted from some way back along the walkway. ‘Don’t move, any of you!’
The Doctor saw his attacker tense for the killing thrust.
‘Nobody move a muscle!’ another voice bellowed. ‘I’ll kill the first one who moves!’
The man relaxed and lowered the weapon slightly.
The Doctor breathed a small sigh of relief. ‘Perhaps you enjoy your work too much,’ he said. ‘It can be a handicap, you know.’
‘That is the least of his problems, Doctor,’ Uvanov said, arriving at the trot closely followed by Bolon, Cailio Techlan and assorted guards and technicians. ‘It is you, isn’t it?’
The Doctor beamed with surprised pleasure. ‘So that’s where this is,’ he said. ‘Captain Uvanov, fancy meeting you again. It’s a small universe, isn’t it?’ He offered his hand but Uvanov ignored it.
‘What are you doing here?’ Uvanov demanded, signalling the technicians to get on with sorting out the bewildered robots still crawling through the damaged blast shutter and gathering in front of the dome. ‘This is a restricted area.’
‘Here? I’m looking for Leela,’ the Doctor said. ‘She seems to have wandered off again.’
‘You mean she is running around loose?’
The Doctor shrugged and smiled. ‘The girl is reliably unreliable,’ he said. ‘So where’s that rather impressive sand miner you drive?’
‘It was a storm mine,’ Uvanov said. ‘I don’t do that now. On days like this I wish I did.’
The Doctor looked sympathetic. ‘Ah. What happened? Did you end up taking the blame for that spot of bother with the robotics expert? What was he called? Taren Capel, that was it.
Mad as a snake, poor man. What happened was hardly your fault, though, was it?’
Uvanov frowned and lowered his voice slightly. ‘We don’t talk about that any more,’ he warned.
The Doctor nodded. ‘I understand,’ he said.
‘What do you understand?’ Bolon challenged. He turned a hard stare on to Uvanov. ‘Do you know this terrorist?’
Uvanov sighed. ‘He’s not a terrorist,’ he said flatly.
‘What is he then?’ Bolon demanded. ‘What’s he doing here?’
‘What are you then?’ Uvanov muttered. ‘What are you doing here?’ The questions sounded more or less rhetorical.
The Doctor said indignantly, ‘I’m not a terrorist. Do I look like a terrorist?’
Bolon looked him up and down. ‘You look like a psycho to me, a dangerous psycho.’
‘How can you say that?’ the Doctor protested. ‘I look totally unthreatening.