Doctor Who_ Corpse Marker - Chris Boucher [74]
As Poul fell he snatched at the rope and finally caught it in his clutching hands. Clinging on, he swung helplessly out over the deep cleft between the buildings and then swung back to hit the wall and bump the Doctor who slipped and lost his footing.
The Doctor slid down the wall, managing at the last to catch on to the footholds and stop himself from plunging all the way to the ground. The metal was narrow and the wrench was painful.
‘Hang on, Doctor,’ Leela yelled, doing her best to haul Poul upwards. ‘It will not be long.’
By the time Poul had clambered up the rope and dragged himself on to the bridge the Doctor’s hands were getting stiff and he noticed that one of the pegs he was holding was starting to give way and pull out. ‘I could be running out of time here, I think,’ he called.
Poul tried to help with positioning the rope for the Doctor but Leela elbowed him aside angrily. ‘This is your fault,’ she accused.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I panicked. Sorry about that.’
‘You are always sorry.’ Leela swung the rope towards the Doctor.
‘Have we met?’
‘People like you are always sorry.’
The end of the rope brushed lightly over the Doctor’s knuckles. He would have to let go with one hand to trap it. He wasn’t sure he could take his full weight on one hand either on the metal peg or on the rope. He shifted his weight slightly and found that the second peg was working loose too.
Leela shouted, ‘Can you catch it, Doctor?’ She was swinging the rope towards him again. ‘I cannot get it any closer than that.’
The Doctor watched the end of the rope coming, drifting slowly at first then speeding up as it got closer until it was whipping at him. It was now or never. The rope’s end whisked the wall. He let go with one hand and caught it. He tried to grasp it tightly. His hand felt weak and cramped. Holding the end of the rope with one hand, he tried to pull himself higher on the peg with his other hand. The peg immediately pulled out of the wall. With a last despairing effort he slapped his empty hand on to the rope and he swung giddyingly away.
Hanging precariously from the bottom of the rope with both arms above his head, the Doctor was unable to do anything but wait to be lifted by the combined efforts of Leela and Poul. It took them several minutes to get him within reaching distance of the bridge.
After he had heaved himself on to the bridge and had rubbed some feeling back into his arms and shoulders he beamed at Leela. ‘I forgive you,’ he said.
‘For what?’
‘Disappearing.’
‘That was not my fault.’
‘You always blame someone else,’ Poul put in. ‘People like you always blame someone else.’ He smiled at her wryly. Leela glared at him and went to retrieve the rope.
‘You’ve remembered my travelling companion?’ the Doctor asked. ‘Did you remember her name?’
‘I heard you call her Leela.’
The Doctor nodded and sighed. ‘So you don’t remember her. Or me?’
Poul frowned with concentration. ‘Taren Capel?’ he suggested. ‘You’re Taren Capel?’
‘Taren Capel is dead,’ the Doctor said. ‘Don’t you remember anything about that?’
Leela came back, coiling the rope over her shoulder. ‘These people think he is alive,’ she said. ‘They follow him. They listen to his teachings. They fight for him. They say "humanity be in him" whenever they speak his name.’
‘Really?’ the Doctor said. ‘Are you sure it’s the same one?
The one we dealt with?’
‘It is the same one. It must be.’
‘It can’t be, though, can it?’ the Doctor said thoughtfully
‘There could be an impostor, I suppose. But why pretend to be Taren Capel?’
‘I think he sends them messages,’ Leela said, ‘to tell them what to do.’
‘They have no idea he’s a dead madman?’
Leela shook her head. ‘Taren Capel is their shaman.’
‘What does he stand for, do you know? What does he tell them to do?’
‘He tells them to fight against robots.’
‘ Against robots?’ The Doctor was surprised. Whoever this impostor was, he had a perverse sense of humour or perhaps he was, as poor