Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [97]
The girl gave an awkwardly apologetic shrug. ‘They’ve been working hard on them for the birthday parade, Your Highness. The Imperatrix said you weren’t to be bothered.’
‘Bloody cow,’ muttered Tannalis under his breath. ‘Bloody, bloody cow.’
‘Do you have any instructions, Your Highness?’
‘No, no, nothing – but get the other levicars ready, just in case. Dismissed.’
Tannalis paused and rubbed his head. And thank you for letting me know, Farine. It’s appreciated.’
The girl bowed gratefully and exited.
‘Levicars?’ asked Trix.
‘A little extravagance for my birthday,’ Tannalis said, almost apologetically.
‘Damned expensive – had to import them from Marselle. Part of my deal with parliament.’ He grinned raffishly. ‘Brings back memories – used to zip about in an old one we had, before I drove it into a ravine and wrecked it.’ He gave a sigh. ‘Those were the days, Trix.’
‘Deal?’ This was all going a bit fast for Trix.
But Tannalis waved her question away. ‘You know what this means, don’t you?’
‘It sounds like it means Fitz has left the building – maybe even with the Doctor – that’s what it sounds like.’
‘No, no, girl: it means that Trove has left the building.’ His eyes widened and a conspiratorial grin cracked his face. ‘It means we can have a look in his room, is what it means!’
Five minutes later, Trix was looking shiftily up and down the corridor as she fiddled with the lock on Trove’s door. ‘If you’re going to tell me that this is wrong and that we shouldn’t be doing it, you’re about five minutes too late,’
she said as Tannalis tutted behind her. ‘And can I remind you that it was your idea?’
‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I was about to say that this is the most fun I’ve had for years. Although the novelty of watching you trying to pick the lock with a piece of wire is wearing mighty thin.’ He dug into the pocket of his dressing gown and produced an electronic key card. ‘Less fun, but quicker.’
174
Trix stepped back and let Tannalis do the honours. At least if they were wrong and Trove was still in his room, the Imperator could claim Imperial privilege or something.
It was, frankly, a bit of a disappointment: a bit like breaking into the hotel room of a hard-living rock band only to find the place immaculate and an opened bottle of mineral water on the table alongside an unused ashtray. The room was so neat and tidy that Trix at first wondered whether they’d got the right one, or perhaps the Palace maid-service was second to none. Everything looked as if it had been placed just so. The only thing that gave away the fact that this wasn’t simply a very nice spare room for visiting relatives was the object on the desk under the window.
About the size of a tea-tray, it was made of what looked like polished chrome, about seven inches high at the back, curving down to the front edge, which was almost flush with the table top. Two flat, blank screens were set into it along with numerous buttons and a couple of what seemed to be miniature joysticks.
‘Is this it?’ she whispered, looking around the room.
‘What did you expect, girl?’
What had she expected? A map with a red circle and an arrow saying: ‘It’s here’ along with a handwritten note explaining what the hell was going on?
‘Hello, Doctor,’ said Tain, his voice soft and calm and seemingly emanating from everywhere.
The Doctor looked around the cramped space: the walls were rough, ribbed and a mottled green and brown. Pale light dappled the chamber from dozens of yellowish spots across the barrelled arch of the ceiling, like out-of-focus stars scattered across the vault of heaven. He wriggled, trying half-heartedly to uncrease his coat after the mangling it had received on the way down from the tree trunk.
‘A simple “Come in, have a cup of tea” would have been more than adequate, Tain,’ he said archly. ‘Organic optical conduits?’
‘The lighting? Yes, Doctor. I see your memory’s back.’
‘Ah,’ said the Doctor ruefully. ‘If only it were. Perhaps we could have a word about –’
He was interrupted by a visceral