Doctor Who_ Hope - Mark Clapham [32]
My guess? said Miraso. The box is somehow connected to their way home.
How? prompted Silver.
Miraso shrugged. Judging by the size of the box described, it must be some kind of hyperspatial, possibly multidimensional link to wherever they come from. If they are from another time, then it might be a timetravel device.
Silver smiled his best predatory smile. Exactly. And they have pointed us in the direction of this wonderful box of theirs. How generous. How stupid.
Do you want the box retrieved now? asked Miraso.
Silver shook his head. No, I do not have enough information to make my move. Yet. He swung his chair around, indicating the shelves of books against the wall, books just like the one he had been reading. Do you know what these volumes are? he asked.
Books that Ill die if I touch, Miraso replied. It was a statement, it wasnt something that distressed her. She had no intention of breaking Silvers rules.
These are the chronicles of the knowledge installed in my brain by those who upgraded me, who made me what I am, said Silver, almost wistful. I have lived longer than was ever expected of me, and as time has gone on I have required more of my personal memory banks for my own memories. He tapped the side of his faceplate with a metal finger, the clash ringing out. Before I have deleted each file installed here, I have made physical records of the salient points, so that I may have access to some of that knowledge if I needed it.
And can I ask what these files concerned? asked Miraso.
If I wasnt going to tell you, I wouldnt have brought it up in the first place, said Silver. These were records of the fragmentary sightings and encounters humanity had had, up to this point, with advanced alien technologies I was sent in search of those technologies, so that I could bring them back to my home time, where they were needed most. There are oblique references to travellers coming out of boxes.
What kind of references? asked Miraso, intrigued now.
Silver looked her straight in the eye. References to chaos, to destruction. To gods in human form and to the arrival of time refugees as a precursor to armageddon. We must be very, very careful with our next move, Miraso. We do not wish these people to become our enemies.
The Doctor had thrown himself into his investigation of the case, and to his surprise Powlin found himself being carried along, reviewing evidence with fresh eyes.
So many victims over such a short time period, said the Doctor. All decapitated cleanly, the bodies left where they fell with no attempts to conceal the crime. The Doctor moved around the images and pages of notes on Powlins desk, looking for a particular item. Ah, here we are. Prior to last night there were no eyewitnesses, but damaged roof tiles near one of the killings suggest tremendous agility and resilience, as the killer seems to have jumped several storeys from the crime scene, landed on another building and kept running. He put the paper down. Interesting.
Interesting? echoed Powlin angrily. Interesting suggests your interest being drawn along, that the information gives you some fascinating places to go to. But its taken me nowhere. I have no why, no who, no nothing.
But you do have a who, insisted the Doctor. Maybe not when it comes to the killer, but certainly when it comes to the victims.
Powlin shook his head. No connection between the victims. They were as far apart as can be in a small town like Hope. The only thing they have in common is that they all wandered into our killers path. They were all alone, far away from witnesses, and then they were dead.
Dont you see, said the Doctor, standing up in the cramped office and pacing agitatedly. This very lack of connection between the victims, the seemingly