Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [89]
160
‘Another offworlder? Your wife said something about other offworlders.’
Tannalis nodded. ‘He arrived a couple of days ago, looking for something –
a device, a mechanism that he claims is here in Saiarossa. He. . . he offered me certain favours if I’d help him find it.’
For the first time since she’d met him, Trix got the impression that Tannalis wasn’t quite as open and above board as he made out. There was something slightly furtive in the way he said that. She gave this revelation some thought: it seemed unlikely in the extreme that the distress call that they’d responded to was unconnected to the arrival of this Trove man. Could it be that he was the one who’d sent the distress signal? Could it have been some sort of trap?
For a moment, she wondered if, perhaps, that loathsome toad Sabbath had somehow cheated death again, and was still alive, perhaps masquerading as this ‘Mr Trove’, looking for another chance to get back at the Doctor. She asked Tannalis what Trove looked like, but the description didn’t tally with the Sabbath she’d met.
‘What’s this device he’s looking for?’
Tannalis seemed immediately suspicious.
‘Why? You after it too?’
Trix took a breath and gave him a potted history of what had happened to them since they’d arrived: Fitz and the Doctor’s disappearance and attack, her and Fitz’s trip through the city, their meeting with Sensimi (at which the Imperator raised grizzled eyebrows impossibly high) and her entry into the Palace a short while ago.
‘So it might be,’ she said in conclusion, ‘that Trove sent the distress call.
Maybe he needs help in finding this thing and wasn’t sure that your guards were up to it. Anyway, you were just about to tell me what the device was.’
‘Nice try,’ he laughed loudly. ‘But I’m not that simple, girl! To be quite honest, I trust you more than I trust that smug con man, but. . . ’ He paused.
‘There’s more at stake than I want to risk right now.’ He patted her hand avuncularly. ‘Sorry.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Trix blithely, determined not to give up just yet. ‘It’s just that we’re on the point of discovering the truth about these night beasts, and it’d be nice to be able to exchange information.’
‘You’re a smart one, Trixie –’ She raised a disapproving eyebrow. ‘Trix. But I’m afraid there’s too much resting on what Trove has promised me. No doubt he has plans to double-cross me, but he’ll find that I’m a sprightlier old hare than he imagines. Where are your friends, by the way?’
Trix’s skin suddenly flushed and she felt her chest tighten. Fitz, she thought.
I must find Fitz.
∗ ∗ ∗
161
‘Fascinating,’ muttered Trove to himself as he watched the images on the screen in front of him. Relayed through his last fiycam, the one that he had sent after the Doctor and his party as they’d left the Palace, they showed the levicar hurtling through the city like a demented copper bullet. He had to keep the flycam up high, and he knew that it was gradually falling behind the levicar, but at least it gave him a rough vector. Locking the blue box out of the Doctor’s reach had been inspired. He hadn’t realised that it was a transport device, but the flycam that he’d left behind in the cellar had told him more than he could have hoped. Once he had the artefact under his control and had delivered it to the Oon, he’d come back and take the box – he was sure he knew a couple of buyers for it.
He tapped his fingers on the desk, impatient, as the levicar headed out of the city. And then he saw it: the vast, shimmering wall. He realised he was clenching a fist. He had no idea how long the wave had been active, and how much longer he had to claim his prize. He couldn’t afford to wait.
As if the communications console on the desk had read his mind, a soft, three-tone chime sounded. He steeled himself, took a breath, and pressed a button.
‘This is Trove.’ he said.
‘Oon central,’ bubbled a voice, thick and oily, rich with undertones. It was almost as if many voices were speaking