Doctor Who_ Deep Blue - Mark Morris [50]
Turlough shook his head in wonderment. ‘It’s very clever,
‘he said.
‘Clever?’ said the Doctor indignantly. ‘It’s staggering!’
‘I suppose so,’ said Turlough dryly, beginning to regain a little of his composure, ‘though what the Xaranti do is only the biological equivalent of other species building computers to solve problems that they’re unable to solve themselves.’
‘Not at all. Any old fool can build a computer. This is more like mentally-deficient parents purposely creating a super-intelligent child to take charge of their lives.’
Turlough raised his eyebrows as if he couldn’t be bothered to argue, and nodded towards the doors. ‘So what happened to those creatures out there?’
‘I was only trying to communicate with them,’ said the Doctor, as if he was being accused of something. ‘I think my message must have interfered with their instructions and confused them.’
Turlough pushed himself to his feet, approached the console, and after a moment’s hesitation turned on the scanner screen. The Xaranti were still milling about outside, though looked to be getting themselves back together again now, their movements more coordinated. He shuddered at the sight of their spiny bodies, and the legs - like huge inverted black Vs - that supported them, and switched it off again. ‘Where are they from, Doctor?’ he asked, trying to sound brisk, business-like.
‘Originally from an unnamed planet in the Tau Ceti system, but that was destroyed several centuries ago in their war with the Zygons. Both races are nomadic now, but no doubt the conflict will continue until one or both of them have been wiped out.’
He shook his head sadly. Turlough said, ‘The Xaranti are on a recruitment drive then?’
‘Perpetually,’ said the Doctor.
‘Then I suppose we’ll have to stop them, won’t we?’
The Doctor looked at Turlough, his face giving nothing away. ‘What do you suggest?’
Turlough tried to look confident. ‘From what you’ve told me, they must be vulnerable through their queen. Couldn’t you pilot the TARDIS directly into the queen’s lair and destroy it?’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘She’ll be heavily protected, and she won’t allow her warriors to be caught out telepathically a second time.’
‘Well... why not simply blow the ship up then? Humans have got nuclear technology, haven’t they?’
‘We’re inside a Morok battle cruiser,’ the Doctor pointed out.
‘So?’
‘It has reflective melganite shielding. A nuclear warhead would not even so much as dent it.’
Turlough scowled, irritated. ‘Well, if there’s nothing we can do, we might as well just get out of here and leave the Xaranti to it.’
The Doctor blinked at him in astonishment. ‘Who says there’s nothing we can do?’
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Mike asked gently.
For almost half a minute Charlotte didn’t answer. She sat in the front passenger seat, staring unseeingly at her sandaled feet, hands resting slackly in her lap. Mike waited patiently, and at last she slowly raised her head. She was a pretty girl, but even the first time he had met her, Mike had noticed tell-tale signs of strain around her mouth and eyes.
Now she looked haunted. The skin around her eyes looked bruised, the eyes themselves like bore-holes into her wounded soul. The wound was fresh now, and though Mike knew that in time it would heal, he knew also that the scar of it would always be with her.
‘Yes,’ she whispered as though it was required of her.
‘What would you like to do now?’ Mike asked, and immediately thought how inappropriate his question sounded. He imagined Imogen Maybury, Charlotte’s mother, leaning forward from the back seat and snapping, ‘What do you suggest? The fun-fair? The beach? Or perhaps we should take in a show?’
Mike glanced at Imogen, and although she showed no sign of doing or saying anything of the sort, he felt an urge to modify his question. Almost stumbling over his words he said, ‘Would you like me to take you back to the... the boarding house?’
Charlotte paused, then gave a single nod. It looked as though it was taking her a great deal