Doctor Who_ Father Time - Lance Parkin [31]
It was nice. It was a time to be quiet, a time to be alone. She never got scared in the dark, as children were meant to. She didn’t like to sleep. She didn’t like her dreams. She dreamed of fog and rocky, broken ground. She dreamed of screaming and fire. Monsters, but not furry, scaly, giant monsters as in Where the Wild Things Are or The Muppet Show, but monsters that looked like people on the outside. There were silver palaces full of servants in her dreams. But everyone was running from something. They were running away from her because anyone who knew her was being killed where they stood. They didn’t want to die, so they ran. It was always the same dream, and she seemed trapped in it. It scared her.
So Miranda didn’t sleep.
But tonight was different. Tonight she wanted to sleep, but she couldn’t. She lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She was tired, but a part of her mind was telling her that she couldn’t go to sleep, or she’d never wake up. She’d be trapped in her scary dream.
Miranda realised she was crying, and she was lonely.
She went up to her parents’ door, and then into their bedroom.
Her dad had woken up. She heard him shift around, then turn on his bedside light.
Mum was awake now. She looked at Dad to see what was wrong, then saw Miranda. Her mum didn’t say anything, just pulled her up on to the bed and hugged her. She was so warm and big and comforting.
‘It’s the UFOs,’ Miranda explained.
‘What do you mean?’ her mother asked.
‘The Doctor was telling me about them. And he says they are real.’
Her dad looked angry. ‘He has no right to. Look, he’s scared you.’
Mum was pulling on her dressing gown. ‘Let’s get you some cocoa.’
‘Are they real?’ she asked.
‘I’m going to have words with that Doctor,’ Dad said angrily.
Miranda looked over at him. ‘But are they real?’
* * *
They were right underneath the disc now. It was wrong that it was hanging there, Debbie decided. It was bigger than a house, and it was made from solid metal, but it hung there like a hot-air balloon.
And there were four aliens standing there, leaving footprints in the Derbyshire snow.
The Hunters, standing together at the back, keeping out of the way but looking down their noses at her. The balding man in SAS gear, standing to one side, clearly ready to fight. And, at the head of the group, the imposing figure with curly steel-grey hair and a green military tunic.
‘Doctor,’ this man said, his voice deep and full of authority. ‘I’m afraid I don’t recognise your charming companion.’ He was their leader – that was obvious from the way he stood, the tone of his voice. A born leader.
‘I’m not his companion,’ Debbie said quietly. ‘We’re just friends.’
The Doctor frowned. ‘You know me?’
The man hesitated. ‘Of course. You don’t know me?’
The Doctor gave a slight shake of his head.
The leader exchanged a quick look with the bald man.
The Doctor smiled helplessly. ‘Have we met?’
‘You don’t remember?’ the bald man asked, and Debbie was sure he was fingering the scar that ran down his cheek.
‘No. I’ve... forgotten a great deal. I remember Rum and Thélash, of course, from our little chat today, but I’m afraid I don’t remember you.’
Debbie was nervous of the whole situation, but the little bald man in particular scared her. His combat gear was practical, and had obviously seen use. She had no doubt at all that the pouches contained all sorts of weapons and lethal devices. ‘You don’t remember Galspar, or Falkus?’ he asked, oozing suspicion.
‘Those are your names?’ the Doctor asked.
Mr Hunter burst into laughter. The bald man spun to face him, silencing him.
‘Places?’ the Doctor guessed.
‘Planets,’ the leader confirmed. He was stern, but seemed more amiable than his colleague. ‘But you don’t remember them, do you?’
‘No. I’m sorry, but you have me at a disadvantage.’
Debbie was sure that the bald man smiled at that prospect.
‘I am Prefect Zevron, this is my Deputy, Sallak.’
The word ‘prefect’ summoned up for Debbie images of little badges and