Doctor Who_ Hope - Mark Clapham [63]
Oh, said Anji. I just watched Silver divert the citys entire power supply and blast it into space, thereby causing a complete citywide power loss and the possible collapse of society into complete anarchy.
They sat in silence for a while. Fitz felt his exhausted body begin to sink forward in his chair. If he didnt go to bed, hed probably just collapse on the spot.
Time to make a move, he said, dragging himself to his feet.
Hmmm, yeah, said Anji, swilling liquid in the bottom of the glass, watching the candlelight refract. She seemed lost in thought. Fitz hadnt the energy to retrieve her, so he stumbled off to his room in the staff quarters. It was on the way there, halfway up a winding stairwell, that he encountered Miraso coming the other way, a gaslighter not unlike a zippo burning in one hand. He backed down the stairs to let her past, holding on to the railing, slightly apologetic. The flames light flickered across her face, lending it an unreal quality, and Fitz found a strange sense of recognition washing over him.
Thank you, said Miraso, pushing past him as they reached the bottom of the stairwell.
A pleasure, said Fitz, giving her a low bow. His back ached miserably as he did so, but a comment like this required full theatrics. My queen.
How many heads, thought the Doctor as he watched the scientists at work. How many heads had been hacked from the shoulders of innocent Endpointers to allow these experiments to take place? He sat, trapped within his secure area, looking out across the laboratory. Just another guinea pig to these people. How many others?
He had been right about the significance of the vivactic gland. Watching the scientists perform their tests, he could see the sample glands they had at their disposal. They were tiny things, and each represented another dead Endpointer.
Why so many? he asked.
Pardon? replied g nearby scientist. He was younger than some of the others, but he still seemed enfeebled, weaker than he should be. His blue eyes were watery and strained behind his spectacles, his dark blond hair patchy and receding, even though he was only in his early twenties.
Why collect so many vivactic glands? asked the Doctor, raising his voice. Surely you must have had more than enough sample material after the first dozen glands?
Ah, said the scientist. He didnt seem to regard the Doctor as hostile. He had probably never met anyone from outside his working group before. Well, Doctor, the problem with Kallisti the substance excreted by the gland is that it breaks down into different chemicals as soon as it leaves the gland. Thats part of its unique properties, the ability to provide such a rich cocktail of hormones to the body. But it also acts as a kind of genetic copy protection. Kallisti is proving very hard to analyse and synthesise because it breaks down so quickly. It seems to have been engineered that way.
Interesting, said the Doctor, sitting back in his cage. Thank you...?
Richard, said the scientist.
The Doctor forced a smile. Thank you, Richard.
The Doctor let the young man get back to his work, taking note of his slow response times and slightly dim attitude. With the equipment at their disposal, the humans should have managed to find their way around the Kallisti problem by now. He watched their fumbling hands, working on samples within sealed containers, gloves built into the boxes. Their physical and mental aptitude werent up to the job. Judging by the similarities between the humans he had seen, they were also more than a little inbred. He remembered the almost simian brow of the human who had been killing the Endpointers on the surface. Hardly great breeding stock.
Interesting, thought the Doctor. It seemed that the species wasnt quite what it used to be. Just as he seemed to be getting closer to them, they were sliding down the evolutionary ladder.
He knew he could give them the Kallisti if they wanted it, synthesise it himself