Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [18]
Calamee looked at the Doctor expectantly, like the parent of misbehaving child being called to account in a headmaster’s study.
‘As far as I can recall,’ he said obligingly, ‘I came here recently – possibly just a few hours ago, probably not more than a day or so – and something happened to me that. . . well, that I can’t remember.’
Roberto regarded him silently – and clearly suspiciously. He lit his cigarette with a tiny silver lighter and drew thoughtfully on it for a few moments, puff-ing out clouds of surprisingly pleasant smoke. The Doctor took a deep breath, and felt an odd longing to have a drag on the cigarette himself.
‘And how do you think I might be able to help him?’ Roberto addressed his question to Calamee, even though he continued to stare at the Doctor.
‘Calamee was kind enough to rescue me from the Imperial Guard,’ the Doctor said. ‘I’ve just spent half an hour locked in the Palace – well, not so much locked as left in a room with an open door. Which is often the same thing, isn’t it?’
‘No,’ said Roberto. ‘I don’t think it is.’
‘Well, it is if all you can do is sit there and stare at the open door, wondering why it’s open. It might as well be locked. You’re a prisoner in any case.’
‘I don’t imagine you’ve come here to debate philosophy, have you?’
‘No, no. Anyway, as it happens I didn’t just sit and stare at the open door –
I decided to leg it. The Imperial Guard started chasing me, and Calamee very 31
kindly brought me here.’
‘And why would that be, Calamee?’
‘We were hoping – I was hoping – that you’d give him sanctuary,’ said Calamee hopefully.
Roberto grinned from ear to ear. ‘Sanctuary? Sanctuary, girl? D’you think we’re living in the middle ages?’ He shook his head as he chuckled and took another drag from the cigarette.
‘Don’t you do that any more?’ She seemed genuinely surprised.
Roberto finished laughing. ‘I’m not sure we ever did, did we?’
‘Oh yes,’ said the Doctor. ‘Once upon a time it was rather a thing.’
‘An expert on human history, are you? So your memory hasn’t gone completely then?’ He gave a wry smile, but the Doctor wasn’t sure whether it was in disbelief at the Doctor’s story or not. ‘Well, well. That’s one thing I wouldn’t have taken you for. There aren’t many of us left, you know?’
‘Experts in human history?’
Roberto nodded, and suddenly the Doctor realised that the priest seemed much warmer towards him. There was still suspicion and distrust in his eyes, but he was definitely thawing.
‘Something of a black art,’ Roberto said. ‘If you’ll pardon the expression.
D’you know Espero’s history?’
‘I don’t even know my own. But go on – is there some sort of moratorium on it, then?’
‘We made a big mistake,’ Roberto said, his eyes drifting over the swathes of blooms that hovered around them, like clouds of brightly coloured ink in water. ‘We thought we knew better than history.’
‘“We”?’
‘Espero’s founders – the cardinals, bishops and businessmen that funded the colony. They elevated the idea of ignorance as bliss to a whole new level.’
The Doctor leaned forward.
‘Tell me more,’ he said.
‘Looloo!’ snapped Sensimi. ‘Stop that!’
The little creature looked up at the princess with a mixture of fear and surprise in her eyes, her tiny paw clotted with cream from the bowl on the kitchen table. Slowly and guiltily, she sneaked it towards her mouth, her eyes never leaving Sensimi’s.
‘Disgusting creature,’ muttered Javill as he swept in from the hallway. ‘It shouldn’t be allowed near food.’
‘It’s a she, Javill, and wherever I go, Looloo goes.’
32
Sensimi’s brother paused as the kitchen staff rapidly found excuses to be elsewhere and he sneered at the mokey, as it sat on the edge of the granite-topped table.
‘And why do you have to dress her up like that? Just look at her – it’s not natural, putting a dirty, hairy little thing like her in a dress and a tiara.’ Looloo was now intent on cleaning the cream from between her fingers. He dipped his head slightly