Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [119]
The Doctor paused, realising the weight of what Tain was saying. ‘Are you asking me to use it? Don’t you have some other self-destruct mechanism?
Can’t you just. . . stop your heart, or whatever the analogue is?’
‘Can you?’
‘Ahh, point taken.’ It was, he thought, easy to forget that Tain wasn’t just a spaceship made of living matter: he was an intelligent being. Which made what the Doctor thought Tain was asking of him even harder. He couldn’t just use the mind-rubber – it didn’t feel right, the cold-blooded killing of something so old and so wonderful. But then he had to think of what might happen if he didn’t. Did he have the right to second-guess the future? What if Reo’s offer to Tain had been an honest one? What if Tain could live out his life with the Makers and kill no more? It had to be Tain’s decision, not his.
‘I can’t make the decision for you, Tain. Do you want me to use the mind-rubber?’
‘I would say yes, Doctor – but Trix’s body is still being supported by me.’ A tremor ran through the floor beneath the Doctor’s feet. ‘If I die, Trix dies too.’
∗ ∗ ∗
214
The Imperator hugged his daughter as tightly as he could: he didn’t know if Javill was going to recover from whatever Trove had done to him, but he had no intention of losing another child. Far from the petulant little girl that she’d been only last night, Sensimi seemed to him to be stronger, more mature.
Maybe she was finally growing up.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, disentangling herself from him.
‘For what, child?’
Sensimi held his gaze. ‘For trying to kill Mother and Javill.’
At the mention of Javill, Tannalis felt a hard lump rise in his throat, and he thought he was going to start crying again. There was a tightness in his chest, and his heart beat raggedly and painfully.
‘You wouldn’t have killed them,’ he said. ‘I know you wouldn’t, girl.’
‘I wanted to, though.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘I really wanted to. I’m just so glad that you’re OK.’ She wrapped her arms around him again and squeezed. Over her shoulder, through his tears, Tannalis could just see the tattered remains of Alinti’s body, lying where the beasts had butchered it. He wondered, distantly, what he should be feeling.
‘Sensimi,’ he said, gently easing her away. ‘D’you remember what I told you last night – when I asked your mother to send you to me?’
She frowned. ‘About political changes?’
‘Well, I need to tell you it all now.’ He took a breath and smiled grimly. ‘I’m dissolving the Imperatorship.’
‘What?’
‘My birthday speech will be the official proclamation. It was a stupid, stupid step to ever have an Imperator. I can understand why the Saiarossans did it, their gratitude to Benhamin. But Espero, for good or for bad, was founded on starting again, not rehashing the past.’
Sensimi’s mouth dropped open. ‘But. . . ’
He hushed her with a thin finger on her lips.
‘You’ll be fine – you’ll be taken care of, don’t worry – trust me,’ said Tannalis.
He hugged his chest as another coughing fit struck him. ‘I’m just sorry that your mother won’t be there to see it.’
‘Where is it? Where is it?’ came Fitz’s frantic voice from inside the levicar.
He’d leaned in, and his legs were waving in the air. Suddenly he reappeared from the car, something chunky and metallic clutched in his hand, and gave a triumphant, ‘Yes!’
‘What’s that?’ Calamee asked as he rejoined her and flopped down on the grass.
‘This is the remote control that Trix was using to follow Trove’s flycam to us.
Now where is it. . . ?’ He began pushing buttons and wiggling the little joystick 215
on the box. A couple of lights lit up, as did a tiny screen set into it. All they could see was fuzzy green. As Fitz moved the joystick around with his thumb, the screen flashed pale blue – sky – and then back to green. Fitz looked up.
‘Where the flip is it? Can you see it?’
Calamee shook her head and then paused. ‘No, but I can hear it.’
Fitz watched her as she squinted, turning her head this way and that.
‘There! Look – can you see it – is that it?’
Calamee