Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [71]
Calamee opened her mouth to ask what it said, but he raised a peremptory finger before popping the jar of weeds into the machine.
He stuck out his tongue as he concentrated on pressing buttons on the machine, and then stood back with his arms folded.
‘Well?’
‘Oh, yes yes. Fascinating. Really fascinating.’
‘That’s good,’ she answered sourly. ‘I expect.’
A few moments later, the machine pinged again, and more tape jetted from the slot. The Doctor devoured the information on it greedily before going
‘Ha!’ theatrically, and sweeping back out of the room. Nessus sprang on to his shoulder as he breezed past. Calamee raced to catch up with him, finding him slipping back into his coat.
‘Oi!’ she yelled.
‘No time, Calamee – no time at all. We have to get back to the city.’
‘Why?’
He stared at her.
‘To warn them of course.’
‘About what?’
He rolled his eyes.
‘That your planet is about to be devoured. What else?’
Calamee stared at him. Nessus peered out of the folds of the Doctor’s coat and squeaked as if in agreement.
‘The wave?’ she said.
‘Well, we’re not talking about the rampant rise of capitalism. I don’t quite know how the wave propagates itself yet. If it’s dependent on energy released from the breakdown of chemical bonds in the organic matter it disintegrates, then it may all fizzle out once it reaches the tarmac and cobbles of the city.
But there’s the rest of the wave to consider – the bit of it that’s just going to race on out across the planet’s countryside.’
This was suddenly too much to take in. He was talking about everything she knew. Saiarossa, Espero – her parents, even. It didn’t matter that this wave seemed to reconstitute things as it went: it still felt like the Doctor had just pronounced a death sentence on her planet.
‘Can’t we stop it? Can’t we do something?’
‘Hopefully, yes. But in the meantime, we have to get back to the city.’ He started heading for the door.
129
Calamee coughed pointedly. ‘And we’re going to walk?’
He stopped sharply and turned, his face puckered into a frown.
‘We’re standing in the most advanced spaceship that I’ve ever heard of, and you’re planning on strolling casually back to the city?’ Calamee said patiently, waiting for the penny to drop. ‘And anyway, how are we going to get through the wave again? That trick with the barn only works one way. Think about it, Doctor. Going back, we’re going to have to run through it, and Lord only knows what’ll happen to us. You might be immune to it, but I wouldn’t want to bet my life that I am.’
The Doctor sighed.
‘Have you any idea how difficult short hops are in the TARDIS? Have you?’
She stared at him blankly.
‘No,’ he said suddenly, thrusting Nessus back into her arms and bounding up to the control panel, ‘I don’t suppose you have. Well. . . ’ He began pressing buttons before turning to her, a broad smile cracking his face. ‘It’s a good job that I have.’
Trix had no difficulty finding the Palace. It was just about the biggest and best-lit building in the city. Even from the side streets, she could see its imposing, sand-coloured façade, illuminated by lights set into the square in front of it.
It wasn’t huge – not Buckingham Palace huge. But it had the whole side of the square to itself, and thus managed a certain gravitas. Some kind of tournament, with horses and men with big sticks, was being set up, and most of the area was fenced off. The rain had driven most of the punters away, though, and only now that it had stopped were they making their way back, jostling to get a good view. She made easy going around the arena, trying to keep her head down and not attract too much attention; although she wasn’t quite sure why, she felt surprisingly nervous and vulnerable. Fitz’s unceremonious dumping of her in favour of Farine still preyed on her, and she put her state of mind down to that.
It had been quite a surprise, though, to be accosted by the two little old ladies. For a moment, she’d expected to be mugged, and felt