Doctor Who_ Enlightenment - Barbara Clegg [17]
Striker stopped dead. And taking advantage of this apparent uncertainty, the Doctor made for the door. There was a sharp ‘Where are you going?’, as Striker recovered, but the Doctor had made a discovery. For a brief second, Striker had not been able to read his mind. It was possible to distract these beings, to break their concentration, however briefly.
‘Don’t you know where I’m going?’ he asked. The pause before Striker replied was barely noticeable.
‘To Miss Tegan’s cabin,’ he answered.
‘You didn’t know, though, did you? Just for a second.’
There was definite satisfaction in the Doctor’s voice, and he left the wheel-house quite jauntily.
‘Go away! Stop following me!’ Tegan rounded on Marriner and almost spat the words at him. He had walked two paces behind her all the way from the wheel-house, and now that her cabin door was in sight she had felt brave enough to speak her mind.
‘Why are you angry with me?’ He sounded quite aggrieved, which annoyed her even more.
‘Angry? I’m not angry, I’m disgusted! A ship blows up –
everyone aboard is lost – and you don’t even care!’
She had meant to sweep into her cabin with these final words, but Marriner forestalled her. With a quick step he moved in front of her and barred the way.
‘You don’t understand,’ he said, as though talking to a child. ‘They were not “lost”, they merely transferred.
Home.’
For a moment relief flooded through her. Everyone aboard that ship had been saved! But then she caught sight of Marriner’s expression.
‘You don’t mean the crew were saved, do you?’ She really could have hit him. ‘You mean the officers! Things like you! What happened to the crew? Were they all killed?’
‘Ephemerals have such short lives in any case,’ Marriner objected mildly. But Tegan was beside herself. ‘Human beings, you mean,’ she yelled at him.
‘Whatever you wish to call them,’ he answered with infuriating reasonableness. ‘And on this ship, at least, they are treated well.’
‘Well!’ Tegan’s voice was scathing. ‘I happen to think human lives are just as valuable as yours.’ And with a sweeping gesture she brushed him aside and went into her cabin. She could not resist sticking her head out again almost immediately, though. ‘I happen to be a human being!’ she said, her eyes flashing. Marriner obviously found her more irresistible than ever.
‘You are different,’ he said, dotingly. ‘You are not like any Ephemeral I have ever met before.’
Before he could speak again the door was slammed in his face.
Turlough was alone. At last he had found a deserted companionway. Slowly and almost reluctantly he took the Cube from his pocket. The time had come to call on the Black Guardian. Turlough now hated his master almost as much as he feared him, but he knew that he must have assistance in order to survive, and as his own survival was Turlough’s major concern, he managed to shut his eyes for the time being to the act which he knew the Black Guardian demanded of him in return.
‘Can you hear me?’ he whispered into the Communication Cube. And then more urgently, ‘I need your help!’
Nothing happened. Turlough realised why a second later. A seaman clattered down a ladder from the deck above. And then another, and another. As each one reached the bottom, he pushed back his space mask, his face hot and sweaty, but elated. Obviously excitement and the strange ‘rum’ mixture were a heady combination.
Turlough moved away. He rounded a corner into another alleyway, a darker one, with no companion-ladder in sight – and then he tried again.
‘You must answer! I need your help!’ he said, slightly desperately, into the Cube. ‘What’s going on here?’
The voice that sounded behind him was as chilling as ice. ‘You are worthless to me.’ He spun round to the tall looming figure of the Black Guardian himself. ‘I have watched your progress,’ the voice continued, and then a long arm was stretched towards him, the brocade of the sleeve glinting in the gloom of the corridor. Turlough stood mesmerised, like a rabbit trapped by a stoat. The Black Guardian