Doctor Who_ Hope - Mark Clapham [52]
I thought you were completely isolated out here?
It took Miraso a second to realise Anji was talking to her. What? she demanded.
All this weaponry, said Anji, indicating the huge amounts of heavy weaponry on the roof, some pointing down over the battlements, others pointing to the skies, some prepared to launch missiles at other cities. This planet is isolated, so why so much weaponry?
Its for the eventuality of an attack from people outside the Palace, but on Endpoint, said Silver. He had somehow found a dark greatcoat from somewhere, one which had a large enough sleeve to fit his fist through.
Still, you could take out a small army with one of these cannons, said Anji.
You misunderstand, said Silver. These weapons are for an attack from the people of Endpoint, a fullscale rebellion. Not just a small rebellious force, but everyone. Theres enough weaponry here to take down the entire population, if necessary.
There was a brief but difficult pause.
You really do think of everything, dont you? said Anji.
Miraso couldnt tell whether Anji thought this was a good thing or not.
The imaginatively named Long Pier was one of Hopes most desolate and precarious outcrops, and so the Doctor had decided it was a vital stopoff point in their tour of Hopes lower points. The Pier was a slender web of interweaving walkways stretching out across the sea, with several levels linked like a snakes and ladders board. A few flaming gas torches were strung out along the Pier, and there were a couple of visible fires, but mostly it was oppressively dark.
Doctor, whispered Fitz as they approached. I dont think were going to have trouble finding a murderer in there, I just dont know whether itll be the right one. Id hate to be decapitated by the wrong person.
You feel vulnerable, whispered the Doctor in reply. Thats understandable. Its a vulnerable place out here. The people who live here must live with that fear constantly. And tonight theyre an obvious target. We have to protect them.
With a slightly more purposeful stagger, the Doctor walked on to the Pier, somehow managing to reel around while watching his step.
Fitz cursed and followed behind, letting the pretence slip a bit. Powlin was right this was madness. As they walked further on to the Pier, Fitz realised they were in a multistorey shanty town. Tiny homes built of crates, things moving in the dark, people beneath every possible bit of shelter. As they approached one of the fires they had seen from a distance, Fitz saw figures moving around the flame, staying close. Fitz could understand the appeal it was freezing out here, where winds tore across the surface of the sea, a slim structure like the Pier barely blocking their path. Fitz kept walking towards the flame, drawn to it, until the Doctor laid a hand on his arm.
I dont think we want to challenge them to their source of warmth, said the Doctor quietly, and as he said that Fitz could make out the raucous voices ahead, the tones of barely suppressed violence. No, Fitz didnt want to challenge them after all. He stuffed his freezing hands under his arms instead.
Down there, said the Doctor, pointing to a stairwell. Fitz could barely make it out in the dark, and could only just see thin slivers of light reflecting from the railings. He let the Doctor lead the way as they descended the stairs, until the sky above seemed to be completely blotted out. They seemed to be in a void of beams and girders, not unlike the ones they had climbed up after losing the TARDIS.
Fitzs hand felt freezing cold, and he instinctively pulled it away from the railing. He yelped in shock as strips of skin were pulled away, stuck to the rail. The Doctor was over Fitz in a second, examining his raw hand with a pen torch, all thoughts of his mockdrunkenness forgotten.