Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [80]
A few minutes later, after checking everywhere the flycams could possibly be, Trove reluctantly had to admit that they’d gone. Stolen. He went back to his communications console and activated it. He glanced back to check that the flycam he’d positioned above the door earlier was still there, and then brought up its surveillance record for the past couple of hours. Within seconds, he spotted movement on the speeded-up footage and paused it. Javill.
Trove watched, with growing anger, as he saw Javill poking around in the room – checking under the bed, in the drawers. Javill found the flycam storage container and tried to open it – but then obviously thought better of it and left the room, the container still in his hand. Trove stopped the replay.
It was his own fault: if he hadn’t piqued the prince’s curiosity with the light ball, he might never have become greedy and come looking for more toys.
That was unfortunate. Very unfortunate. He needed the flycams – they were his eyes and ears on Espero, and right now he needed, more than ever, to know what was happening.
He flicked off the console, checked his hair in the mirror by the door, and left the room.
Alinti went straight to her room and called up the weather-sat bureau. They were none to pleased to be disturbed, tonight of all nights, until Alinti frostily told them who she was. The man started blundering around, apologising –
but she cut him dead and asked whether they’d had any reports of unusual weather or electrical storms near Saiarossa. Like an eager puppy, he’d rushed away to check, and come back with a very puzzled tone of voice.
‘It looks like there’s something,’ he said, and she could hear his fingers clicking on a keyboard. ‘I’m bringing it up now. . . now that is strange. . . ’
144
‘Just tell me – what is it? Is it a danger to the Palace – to the city?’
‘Hard to tell – the resolution we get from the satellite’s not what it was. It looks like. . . there’s a bit of cloud cover creeping in, so I don’t have the full. . . ’
His voice tailed away. ‘That’s so strange. . . ’
‘For God’s sake!’ snapped Alinti.
‘Sorry, Your Highness, sorry. From what I can see, it looks like an almost circular front, centring around a point a few miles out of Saiarossa. It’s moving pretty slowly.’
‘That’s all I need to know, thank you.’ Alinti reached for the cut-off button and paused. ‘And by the way, you ignorant little man, it’s “centring on” not
“around”.’ Without listening to his reply, she cut the channel.
So Sensimi had been right. A freak storm, tonight of all nights. Maybe it was an omen. Maybe God had finally heard her prayers. . . In her head, she ran through a list of people she could trust – Palace staff she could tell about the storm who would take her word for it that she’d told Tannalis. No need to disturb him. In fact, maybe later, she’d take him down for a walk in the courtyard. . . She briefly toyed with the idea of not bothering to alert the city police and authorities – but then if she was going to be Imperatrix proper, what would be the point of a city with no one to command?
The Doctor was pacing. Which was usually a good sign, thought Fitz: it meant that the game was afoot. He felt tired, but put that down to everything that had happened since they’d arrived on Espero and to the bizarre dream. He kept trying not to look at the Doctor’s bottom, but suspected that, in doing so, he was drawing even more attention to it. He caught Calamee’s eye, and she frowned at him. Sensimi had whirled back in, just a few minutes after whirling out, and told them that she’d told her mother and that she was putting the word out to the city police.
‘Now we need to pool our knowledge,