Doctor Who_ Hope - Mark Clapham [41]
Recognise these? asked the Doctor.
From a previous life, yes, said Silver. Theyre disposable meditabs. He threw the bag back to the Doctor, who caught it out of the air. Did you bring these with you?
No, said the Doctor. I found them at the scene of the crime this morning.
Silver frowned. Nothing is disposable on Endpoint.
The Doctor nodded. As I thought. Which makes these rather an unusual find. Could someone have landed here without you knowing?
Silver leant back in his chair, steepling his fingers under his chin. One hand was comically larger than the other.
It would technically be possible to break through the barrier clouding this system, said Silver quietly. If you had a hyperspace tunnel. But to land here without me knowing? No. With weather like ours, atmospheric disruption is constantly monitored no ship could land without being noticed.
The Doctor nodded. Regardless of where your killer comes from, I doubt theyre an average citizen of Hope.
Silver paused, thoughtful. Clearly not. And as an outsider yourself, Doctor, you are perfectly placed to catch him for me. So how do you intend to go about this?
The Doctor sat forward in his chair. I know where he hunts, I know the times he kills, he said. I intend to be there, and hunt him down before he kills again.
That evening, Fitz joined the Doctor and Anji at what was rapidly becoming their regular table in the Silver Palaces main hall. Anji had a brightly coloured cocktail, but after his embarrassing musical performance of the previous night, Fitz decided to stick to something a little tamer. Besides, the music was provided this evening, harsh electronic sounds with a pumping bassline echoing across the hall. Fitz found it a little loud for his liking, but when he saw Anji nodding her head appreciatively he wondered whether his own reservations were due to getting old it just didnt sound like music to him.
What are Batman and Robin up to? he asked Anji, nodding towards the Doctor and Powlin. He thought it was a reasonable analogy, considering the Doctors increasingly solemn mood, and the way the militiaman followed him around like a puppy.
Were planning to try and stop these brutal murders, thereby saving many lives and perhaps get a chance to leave this place, said the Doctor, not looking up from the maps he and Powlin had been poring over. Why, what have you been doing? he added, as if Fitz had spent the last couple of days playing British Bulldog down the park.
Ive been following my own leads, said Fitz indignantly. The Doctor could be a cheeky sod, sometimes if he knew that Fitz had arranged to attend a Brotherhood meeting in a couple of days time, then hed be more impressed. But Fitz decided to take a leaf out of the Doctors own book and not reveal anything until he had dazzling results to show for his efforts. Fitz could be the mystery man too.
Good good, said the Doctor, still not paying any attention. Just try not to get yourself killed, will you?
OK, said Fitz, trying to give Anji an askance look, but she was involved in the music, or deep in thought. He couldnt quite tell.
Fitz decided to return to the bar. Perhaps he needed a stronger drink after all.
Night fell, and the, Doctor and Powlin patrolled the perimeter of Hope.
The Doctor ran across the rooftops, heart pumping and lungs bursting as he jumped the gaps between buildings. He crawled across pipes and swung from beams, watching any passersby down below, searching for the shape of a possible killer. Meanwhile, Powlin and his men patrolled at street level, torches searching out anywhere the killer might be hiding.
In the early hours a shrill cry rang out on the western side of the city, near to where the Doctor was crouched on a transmitter mast, looking out across the footways below him, observing the area for signs of anything suspicious. At the sound of the cry he slid down the mast, ran across a pipe and dropped down on to a walkway. He paused to catch his breath, listening out for any further noises.