Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [93]
Out in the square, as the pale light of dawn began to vie with the sodium orange of the streetlights, she watched a couple of tiny figures, Esperons on their way to – or from – work. Maybe on their way home after the night’s revels. Hadn’t they heard the warning about the freak electrical storm heading for the city?
She shook her head. No one understood quite how difficult her job was: contending with a wilful husband who seemed to delight in belittling her in front of the staff, the government – even her own family; making sure that everything in the Palace ran smoothly, and struggling to come to terms with the political changes that were sweeping through Saiarossa. Alinti was under no illusion that the Imperial Family had been allowed to survive on sufferance all these years. She knew that to many, the idea of an Imperial Family within a democracy was a weird, twisted anachronism, but equally, she knew that those same people didn’t understand the value of having a good, solid family at such a democracy’s head.
It wouldn’t last, she thought sorrowfully. Nothing did. Change was coming, and the Imperial Family would – for better, or, more likely, for worse – be one of the first casualties. It had been debated in parliament for almost a century; their power was now much more figurative than literal, and yet, Alinti knew, the public still held them in high regard, seeing them as an extension of their own families. The government were self-serving bureaucrats and pompous 167
priests who would love nothing more than to see the little power and influence that she and Tannalis still held devolve to them. She’d had to make tough decisions in her time as Imperatrix, and this one was only a little harder.
She gave a sigh and turned to Trove, who’d been silent at her side.
‘I accept your offer,’ she said simply.
He nodded. ‘You have made the right decision – for Saiarossa and for Espero.’
‘I know, Mr Trove. Now – what do you require?’
She turned her head sharply at a sound – a muffled, lazy thump from somewhere in the room.
‘What was that?’
She took a step away from the window, turning her head, listening for a repeat of the noise.
‘I have more equipment,’ Trove said suddenly, a little too eagerly.
‘What kind of equipment makes a noise like that?’
He smiled – a regretful, awkward smile. ‘Important equipment for my mission here. Secret, I’m afraid. I’m sure you understand.’
She didn’t, but of course she had to pretend she did.
‘You asked if there was anything I required,’ Trove said, a little too keen to steer her on to a different topic, she thought. ‘I suspect that the Doctor and his friends are close to discovering the soldier factory. It is imperative, Imperatrix, that we gain control of it before they do.’
‘Just tell me what to do, Trove. Tell me what to do.’
‘I think I’ve broken my liver,’ said Fitz as he staggered from the car and fell on to the grass, clutching his side.
‘Don’t worry,’ said the Doctor blithely, running his hands through his hair as he clambered out of the dented wreck of the levicar. ‘The other one will kick in in a minute.’
‘You have two livers?’ Calamee stared at the two of them, hugging Nessus as he trembled in her arms. Sensimi was sobbing openly. Fitz wanted her to stop.
‘We did it, though.’ The Doctor was grinning now, staring away into the darkness.
‘Yes, Doctor,’ Fitz smiled tightly, holding his side. ‘And we love you very much for it. And when we’ve stopped loving you for it, we’re going to hit you.
Very, very hard.’
‘Good, good,’ he said. ‘That’s nice. Now come on. No time to fix the car, and it shouldn’t take us long to walk.’
‘You’re not the one with the broken liver,’ grumbled Fitz.
‘Not yet, he’s not,’ muttered Calamee darkly, rubbing her neck.
168
∗ ∗ ∗
The horizon was showing a thin line of buttery blue when they reached the spot where, the Doctor proudly