Doctor Who_ Hope - Mark Clapham [31]
Powlin was about to ask how the Doctor had a free run of the watchtower in the first place, but was interrupted by the odd man leaning over the table to sniff at Powlins caffy.
Is that coffee? asked the Doctor.
Caffy, corrected Powlin.
But its a hot, caffeineated drink? the Doctor asked.
Yes, said Powlin, stretching the vowel. Where did this guy come from? Theres a fresh pot over there if you want some.
Excellent! exclaimed the Doctor, wildeyed, slapping his palms on the table.
The unconscious woman across the room stirred in her sleep at the noise, mumbling to herself.
The Doctor scrambled across to the caffy pot, found a chipped mug and poured himself some. Powlin watched with interest. The Doctor seemed exhausted, strung out yet eager to keep pushing on, to stay awake and keep moving. Powlin guessed he wasnt sleeping too well. Bad dreams, perhaps?
What are you doing here, Doctor? asked Powlin as the man sat down, sipping his hot caffy tentatively. Remembered some further detail of what you saw?
The Doctor shook his head, his hair a part of his body Powlin couldnt imagine having waving from side to side as he did so. No, no, no, said the Doctor. Im afraid my involvement in the case is rather more direct than that now.
Powlin frowned. Was this madman about to confess?
You see, said the Doctor. Silver has hired me to find this killer for him.
Powlin, who had been gulping his own caffy at the time, nearly spat it down his chin in shock.
What? he demanded. He has no juris... I mean he cant... He trailed off, aghast. He could at least have killed me before replacing me.
Believe me, said the Doctor. Im as unhappy about this as you are, and I have no intention of interfering in the proper rule of law here. Besides, our own feelings, and those of Mr Silver, are a side issue. What matters is that people are dying, and we need to find this killer and stop him. Who captures the murderer is of no relevance to the potential victims.
Powlin looked into the Doctors eyes, and saw a certainty, a moral intensity he had never seen in anyone before.
So, said the Doctor, returning Powlins stare. Can I count on your cooperation?
Powlin nodded. Where do you want to start?
Miraso only had a few hours sleep, but that was OK. She had made sure to take a nap the previous afternoon, to be fresh for the evenings activities. Those extra few hours had been a useful top up. As the working day began she was showered and dressed, eating a heavily sweetened cereal mash for breakfast one of the perks of her position. She was just finishing up when a call came through on her commlink a summons from Silver.
Her bosss office was only a brisk walk away from her quarters, so three minutes later she was knocking on his door. A deep grunt from inside indicated that she should go in.
Early daylight was pouring into Silvers office, the holograms off and the blinds drawn. Silvers office windows were a sign of his personal prosperity, vast sheets of triplebonded plexiglass, flawlessly clear and stretching out behind his desk. The outside was mirrored Silver had a panoramic view of the city outside, but the city could never see in. It was very much a oneway relationship.
Silver was sitting at his desk, haloed by the light. A large plastibound book from his shelves was open in the palm of his vast metal hand, one finger of his human hand following the text across the page. The human side of Silvers face was fixed in concentration as he read. Miraso wondered whether he had noticed her, until he waved for her to sit down. She sank into the heavily upholstered chair, squinting slightly with the sun in her eyes. After a couple of minutes Silver closed the book, placing it gently in the centre of the desk.
Apples and humans, both long extinct, Silver said, drumming his fingers on the closed book. Both arrive here out of nowhere,