Doctor Who_ Father Time - Lance Parkin [114]
The Doctor scowled and waved his hand at them. ‘Don’t knock a bit of luck. This is a big ship – they might be at the other end of it. They must have some sort of internal transport, and that won’t be working.’
The Doctor had found a computer terminal. He’d pulled a grey box from his pocket and connected it up to the console with a length of black wire.
‘And I know for a fact,’ Mather continued, ‘that you won’t be able to access an alien computer using a Psion organiser.’
The Doctor held up the little grey box, showed him that the LCD screen was flickering with alien symbols.
‘I’ve had almost ten years to decipher this technology,’ the Doctor explained. ‘I know more about this lot’s software and wetware than even they do.’
‘Wetware?’ Debbie asked.
‘I’ll explain later.’
‘What are you doing?’
‘This is a big ship. We need to know where we are going.’
The liquid-crystal display resolved into a deck plan.
The Doctor peered at it, scrolled the picture up and across.
‘Come on: according to this, Miranda’s cell is a long way off, but the route there seems simple enough.’
* * *
Cate peered down a service corridor that went on as far as the eye could see. It looked like it ran straight, parallel to the travel tube, quite possibly from one end of the ship to the other. There was no sign of activity, no indication which way led back to the living quarters and which led on to the engine rooms.
The light was poor, provided by tiny triangular boxes set into the walls every ten metres or so. The walls were lined with pipes, vents and ducts. The floor was a metal grid, with a trough running along the far wall.
‘Which way?’ Miranda asked. She had a new determination now, a new focus. She was looking for a way out, refusing to be scared, or to give up.
The Deputy shrugged. ‘I have never been to this place.’ She hesitated, looking into the shadowy depths. ‘Possibly no one has.’
Miranda sighed, refusing to be superstitious. ‘Someone built this.’
There was a clank, a hundred metres or so to their left.
‘Machinery,’ Miranda assured Cate. ‘It’s probab‐’
Something clamped itself over Cate’s mouth.
Her first thought was that a piece of piping had come loose and entangled itself round her.
But this was warm, smelled of meat. It was a hand. A large one.
Another hand had snaked around her waist and she was being lifted off her feet.
As she was pitched round, she saw Miranda being menaced by a small man with a length of pipe.
‘Graltor!’ Cate managed to cry out through the gaps in the big fingers. She stopped struggling.
After a moment, she was lowered back to the metal deck and released. She turned to look at her attacker – as she suspected, it was the larger man.
The small man had stopped menacing Miranda. She looked him up and down. ‘So you must be Tarvin?’
The men glanced at each other.
‘You know us?’
‘We know you’re escaped slaves. We’re not armed.’
Graltor was stocky, built like a wrestler. And he was huge – hands the size of dinner plates.
Tarvin was a far smaller man. ‘Graltor’s from a high-gravity planet,’ he explained. ‘He’s the runt of the family. But that’s by the bye. The important question is: who are you?’
‘Don’t you recognise me?’ Miranda asked.
The thief scowled. ‘Of course I do, I Just wanted to see if you’d admit it. You’re Miranda,’ he said sceptically. ‘You’re the Last One.’
Miranda nodded. ‘I was taken to Earth when I was a baby. I don’t remember any of my parents’ crimes. I’m... sorry if they hurt you. I’m sorry for what they did.’
Tarvin was clearly taken aback. ‘She doesn’t sound like Ferran or any of the other Senators.’
The giant was scratching his chin. ‘What are you doing here? Is this your mother or something?’
‘Her mother was the Empress, stupid,’ Tarvin chided. He looked at Cate warily. ‘Elder sister?’
‘If she was her elder sister, then the Last One wouldn’t be the Last One, would she, stupid?’ Graltor grunted.
‘I’d be the Last But One.’ Miranda giggled.
Graltor chortled.
Cate moved a little closer to Miranda. These two clearly didn’t recognise her as the Deputy,