Doctor Who_ Hope - Mark Clapham [10]
So, can any of you three describe the man who ran past you? he asked.
White, said Fitz. As in totally, bleached white. Really fast. Other than that... He trailed off.
Powlin turned to the Doctor and Anji. Anything to add?
The Doctor shook his head. I didnt see anyone. I was rather distracted by someone shooting at us.
Powlin elected to ignore that. Well, if you think of anything else, report to your nearest watchtower. Otherwise... just stay out of trouble.
And with that he turned and walked off.
As Powlin walked away, Anji nudged the Doctor with her elbow. He was gazing thoughtfully at the floor, where a rough outline showed where the body had fallen.
Hmm? asked the Doctor distractedly, locking eyes with her.
We have no idea where we are, whispered Anji urgently. And the only person weve spoken to is disappearing into the fog.
The Doctor looked shocked. Youre absolutely right! Come on Fitz, weve got to keep in contact.
Anji kept close to the Doctor and Fitz as they marched along beside Powlin, badgering the sullen man with an endless stream of questions. Anji kept pace a job in itself, what with her being a head shorter than any of the others but didnt engage in conversation. Anjis uncomfortable thoughts earlier in the morning had left her a little out of sorts, and she preferred to observe her surroundings rather than speak to anyone. What with the running, and the guns, and the darkness, she hadnt really taken a good look around before. As she followed the others along the metal gantry, she looked around her at this strange city. There didnt seem to be much in the way of electric lighting, but blue gas flames acted as torches, burning from outlets in the walls.
Rubbish. The whole place seemed to be welded together from bits of scrap metal and other detritus. To their right, a railing made from bits of old pipe and lengths of chain stopped them falling into the hostile sea. To their left, a sheer wall of metal, indented with what looked like the occasional airlock door. Scuffed paintwork made out crude letters in a language Anji didnt recognise, and she presumed this whole section of the citys edge was the bulkhead of a ship of some kind, presumably built into the city walls as fortification or flood barrier. Eventually, this hull curved and they found themselves at the bottom of a motley collection of rusty iron forming a stairwell. To their left a series of steps disappeared into the city.
This is my watchtower, said Powlin, pointing up. Anji cranked her neck back, and could just make out some kind of lighthouse towering above them, slitlike windows glowing into the night as the militia looked out over the sea. It resembled a postindustrial attempt at a medieval fortress tower.
I hope Ive been... of help, said Powlin, as if unused to polite conversation. He made a vague attempt at a wave, then disappeared up the stairwell to the tower, footsteps clattering as he went.
So, where now? asked Anji.
Well, said the Doctor wryly. If youd been listening to our friend Powlin, youd know that this way he pointed to the steps leading into darkness will take us straight to the centre of Hope. Apparently we should watch our backs, although I dont think any of us intended to let our guard down.
Fitz frowned. I thought youd be wanting to follow up on this murder. Grisly business, innocents in peril, that sort of thing.
I will, but later. Our immediate priority is retrieving the TARDIS. The thing about the dead is, theyre never going anywhere in a hurry. The TARDIS, on the other hand I dont feel comfortable leaving her there, at the bottom of the sea. She may not come to any harm, but...
Fitz put a supportive hand on the Doctors shoulder. We understand. TARDIS first. We can get around to anything else later.
Together, they stepped into the darkness.
By the harsh light of liquid crystal they met, in a chamber devoted to the clean lines of machinetooled perfection, each surface polished to revel