Doctor Who_ Interference_ Book One - Lawrence Miles [104]
‘Hold on.’ Sarah started rummaging around in her pockets, in a fashion the Doctor found strangely appealing. She plucked out a blob of black plastic, just the right size to fit into the palm of her hand, and held it in front of his face.
‘Took it from the office,’ she said. ‘Any good?’
The Doctor nodded. ‘Alien. Receiver technology. Must have picked up… the signal… the equation.’ He let his head sink back, his neck exhausted. ‘Yes. That’s it. That would do it.’
Sarah absent‐mindedly started curling some of her hair around one of her forefingers. The hair was blonde, strangely enough. ‘So. If we’re out of ideas and we can’t get out of this room, what do we do now?’
The Doctor thought about that.
‘They killed Badar,’ he said.
‘Who?’ said Sarah.
‘Badar. My… friend. Fellow prisoner. He was building a world. I promised to finish it for him. They killed him.’
‘Oh.’
‘They took him out. Out to the courtyard. Cut his head off. That’s what they do. For heresy. Heresy.’ He let the word hover on his tongue for a moment longer. ‘Sounds so medieval, doesn’t it? What they did… what they did in the days of the Spanish Inquisition. Or Galileo. We forget. Politics. Leaders kill heretics because they want to change… the way people see the world. The way they see their leaders. They have… religious police, did you know that? Heresy. Political crime.’
The Doctor felt his eyes closing.
‘He was like you,’ he went on. ‘A journalist. Or something like a journalist. The religious police were watching him. He wrote something… asking about the validity of… of some of their customs. They watched him. Saw he had things in his home. Illegal things. Books. Not even things they’d care about, usually. But enough. Enough to have him put in prison.’ The Doctor tried opening his eyes again, but they felt like they’d been gummed shut. ‘Politics. It’s all politics. That’s what… what he wanted me to believe. You. You, Sarah Jane. You were a journalist…
‘Still am.’
‘Yes. Read your book. Good. Good work. Two MPs resigned, didn’t they?’
‘Three. They said they just wanted to spend more time with their families.’
‘There. You see? All the time. You had your agenda. Political agenda. And I took you… all around space and time… letting you spread it. We’re all politicians. All got agendas. Humans. Time Lords. Usurians. Martians. Kalekani. All of us.’
‘“There’s nothing only about being a girl.”’
‘I’m… sorry?’
Sarah was smiling, he suspected. ‘Basic feminist politics. Something I told an alien friend of yours, once.’
‘Yes. The same with Ace. The same with all of you. And I told myself… I wasn’t political. Always asking to be a martyr for… whatever cause seemed like a good idea… at the time. Always thought I was doing it for the good of everybody. Not for myself. Always wanting to die… for the right reasons…’
Sarah’s hand was on his brow, now. ‘Doctor, you’re not making any sense. What’s Ace? What’s this got to do with anything?’
‘Made a promise,’ the Doctor told her. ‘Told Badar. Told him I’d… sort this out…’
Sarah said something else. Her voice sounded panicky. Louder than usual. But the Doctor couldn’t make out a word of it.
‘Fading out,’ he said.
‘…said, you’re going all… –ing to vanish. Doct– …tell me. Where are you? How can I… to you? What’s…’
‘Fading,’ the Doctor muttered, although he doubted she’d be able to hear him. ‘Going back. Funny. Thought I’d be here longer. Time to think. Must be you, Sarah. Must be your being here. Having an effect… on the equations…’
Without warning, the sound of running water stopped. So did the smell of greenery.
* * *
Dusk
native language. The next thing he knew, there was a pain in his chest, where one of the guards had planted the toe of a boot. The Doctor felt himself roll over.
The fire had gone out. He could still feel the equations under his fingertips, sticky against his skin, but he couldn’t remember anything about them. Not even the basic shape of the mathematics.
They