Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [130]
‘Without that poisonous witch influencing him, maybe he’ll turn out more like Sensimi,’ Tannalis had said before leaving them to make his address, noticing the worried glance that passed between Calamee and Fitz. He’d smiled. ‘I know, I know – but she’s decent at heart. And who knows – now that Tain’s given me a new lease of life, maybe I’ll find another wife and give them a brother or a sister.’
They watched Minister Djelardine take to the stage and Fitz saw Calamee stifle a yawn.
‘We should be getting you back to your parents,’ the Doctor said, rubbing his neck. ‘They’ll be worried sick about you.’
‘Nah,’ said Calamee dismissively as she lifted down a protesting Nessus from Fitz’s shoulders. ‘They probably haven’t even noticed I’m missing yet. Anyway, I’ve got one or two things to sort out before go back.’ She swung Nessus on to her own back and took the Doctor’s hand. ‘Sorry if I’ve been a pain,’ she said. Fitz looked away studiously, feigning a sudden interest in yet another dignitary – this one wearing a seventies disco version of the Pope’s outfit –
taking to the stage.
‘If it hadn’t been for you and Nessus,’ the Doctor was saying, ‘things might have turned out very differently. And besides, it was Nessus that dragged you into all this.’
‘Still. . . sorry about being such a pain. Friends?’
Fitz heard the sound of them hugging and rolled his eyes.
Calamee gave Fitz a hug, too, before she left. The Doctor stared after her as she went.
‘Not thinking of asking her along for the ride too, are you?’
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t you think we’ve got quite enough hitchhikers in the TARDIS?’
‘Yeah, what’s happened to Trix? She said she’d be back by now.’
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‘She’s always late,’ the Doctor said archly. ‘But she’ll be here. Wouldn’t want to miss her ride, would she?’
Fitz narrowed his eyes.
‘You really think she still thinks of us like that?’
‘To be quite honest, Fitz, I’m not entirely sure how she thinks of us. Since she came aboard, we’ve hardly been a model family, have we? Sitting around the dinner table, chatting about how our days have been. Trix isn’t the most open book. And remember: she didn’t ask to be invited.’
Reluctantly, Fitz had to agree. ‘She’ll warm to us when she’s ready.’
It took Calamee a good hour to walk back to Tain. Nessus slept quietly around her shoulders.
Everything was exactly as she’d remembered it – apart from the lack of night beasts. Trove’s and Alinti’s corpses had gone, taken back to the Palace by the Guard. As she wandered through the bushes and sniffed the flowers –
now mercifully free of maggots – she remembered, again, the picnic with her family, and she felt a twinge of guilt about what she was planning. But she’d sent them a message. They’d understand.
‘Tain?’ she said out loud as she reached the tree trunk that contained his magic door. ‘It’s me – Calamee. I’ve a favour to ask. Is there room on board for a couple of passengers. . . ?’
Silently, the tree unzipped itself, and taking Nessus in her arms, she stepped inside.
The house was empty. Like some old, Amish relic, it towered above her, casting a cool shadow in the mid-afternoon sun. From a distance, as she’d approached it in the levicar, it had looked like a vast, irregular, black monolith.
As though the house itself was in mourning for Joshua. But Trix didn’t do mourning. Leave that one for the Doctor. It didn’t change anything, it didn’t bring back the dead or put the past right. That was a lesson she’d learned a long time ago. If you acted the hard-nosed bitch for long enough, she wondered, is that what you eventually become? She hoped so.
She blinked as her vision flickered, lighting up everything in hyper-real colours. But there was no sign of Reo in her head. She hoped this was just a hangover from whatever that thing had done to her body: she felt normal.
Tired, but normal. But how could she be sure? What lasting changes had Reo wrought