Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [99]
‘Good grief!’ said Fitz, jerking his hand back from the chamber wall. ‘What was that?’
‘That,’ said the Doctor, looking almost as shaken as Fitz felt, ‘was by way of a “previously on. . . ”, I think.’
‘My apologies for presenting it like that,’ said Tain’s gentle voice, ‘but time is pressing.’
‘I expect it is,’ said Fitz. ‘But I think the phrase I used was “good grief!”.
That was what happened when we first arrived, right? So how’d we come to. . . ’ He flapped his hands around. ‘. . . to. . . everything?’
‘Please place your hands against the wall again and I’ll –’
‘Uh-uh,’ said Fitz, backing away – as much as he could in the confined space
– from the wall. ‘Can we just do this the slow, old-fashioned way, please? You know, words, language, that kinda stuff?’
‘The Trojan’s soldier attacked you and almost killed you,’ said Tain. ‘I managed to create another in time to save you and bring you in here where I repaired you.’
The Doctor absently touched the side of his neck and Fitz found his own hand moving to the shiny patch of skin on his head.
‘But the Trojan sensed that you were dangerous,’ continued Tain, ‘especially when I downloaded your memories in case you didn’t survive the repair and 177
I had to recreate you. It attempted to interfere again, to create more soldiers to kill you when you emerged. I had to let you go without doing a complete integrity scan so that I could concentrate on fighting the Trojan.’
‘Sorry,’ said Fitz with a shake of the head. ‘Maybe I’m being stupid, or maybe I’ve missed a couple of episodes, but what the hell’s a Trojan? Someone that lives in a wooden horse?’
‘The Trojan is a synthetic personality construct that was implanted by the Oon before I fled their battle with the Makers. It was designed to –’
‘Whoah, whoah!’ said Fitz, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.
‘You’re doing it again! Look, why don’t I go back upstairs and take my chances against Trove and the whole Imperial Army, Doctor, while you stay down here and do the hard bit – understanding what the hell is going on?’
The Doctor scowled at Fitz. ‘So, Tain – this Trojan personality – it’s infecting your systems now?’
‘And has been since I arrived here a year ago. At first I thought I would be able to purge it, but I was unprepared for the depth of its infiltration. I have spent all that time waging a war with it. Once I realised that its intent was to communicate my location to the Oon, I destroyed my own communications organ. So then it created soldiers to go for help, and I tried to interfere in their creation – when I failed, I created others to follow and stop them. And two days ago, the Trojan finally managed to gain control of some of my regenerative subsystems and regrow the communications organ. It sent a distress signal. Which you picked up.’
‘So, um, where are you, exactly?’ asked the Doctor. ‘I take it you’re in control of this thing?’
‘Oh. I thought you’d realised.’ Tain’s voice was disappointed and surprised.
‘This “thing” is me. This whole bioship, all the trees and plants above us. It’s all me.’
‘Oh,’ said the Doctor slowly. ‘Right.’
‘So we’re, like, in your stomach?’ asked Fitz, claustrophobia clawing at the edges of his senses.
‘No – I have no stomach, as you think of it. I have roots and the vegetation above performs photosynthesis for me. I created this chamber when you were injured, to protect you from the Trojan’s soldiers.’
The Doctor pulled a face and glanced at Fitz – who somehow knew what was coming.
‘You said you repaired us and didn’t do an integrity scan. Can you do one now? Quickly, I mean?’
‘I performed