Doctor Who_ Interference_ Book One - Lawrence Miles [119]
Yes. Blood and horror were very much his kind of thing, the Doctor guessed. After all, the man had clearly used his own blood to draw the equation on the floor of his prison cell.
Was that the Doctor’s destiny, then? To be taken away from all the glorious machineries of history, and wallow in the offal of the universe instead? Was that why the TARDIS had bled, because it was sharing the trauma of an entirely new kind of life?
‘Hey, Doctor,’ said Sarah. ‘Take a look at this.’
The Doctor turned. Sarah was at the other end of the alley, standing on the far side of the TARDIS. The alley seemed to lead out into some kind of open square there, which was why the Doctor had headed in the opposite direction. He didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself, not on a world like this one. But Sarah had obviously found something interesting, because she was staring at one of the walls near the end of the alley, reading a piece of weather‐worn paper that had been stuck to the woodwork there. A poster, by the look of it. From what the Doctor could see, there were more of the posters in the square, although he couldn’t make out any details from here. He headed over to join Sarah.
Poor old TARDIS, he thought. Suffering for my sins again. Weeping tears of blood for my future self. But if that’s true, then why now?
Because this planet is where the future’s going to be made, perhaps. Because today is the first day of the rest of my life.
I feel as if I’ve walked into the middle of someone else’s adventure.
Then he arrived at Sarah Jane’s side, and cast his eyes over the poster. That was when he realised exactly how complicated things were about to get.
I.M. FOREMAN'S ONE-SPECIES
NONGENETICALLY-ENGINEERED
TRAVELLING SHOW
Every act a reflection, every performer a cautionary tale.
(All comers welcome, no refunds given.)
Introducing:
MELMOTH
The Map of Scars
(each scratch a world of experience)
O’SALAMANDER
The Dragon-King
(Paramour of Fire, a breathing inferno)
EZEKIEL
Master Aerialist
(the Angel of the Pleiades)
MOULD
The Worm-Boy
(must be seen to be believed!)
THE GOOFUS
The Living Armoury
(every inch of skin a weapon)
THE IF
What Is It?
(freak of nature, or messenger of fate?)
MR ZARATHUSTRA
The Walking Brain
(his very thoughts move mountains)
JOHN SALT
The Missing Link
(the beast in every one of us)
QUEEN NITOCRIS
Mistress of Serpents
(see the creatures bow to her will)
AKA
The Metamorph
(a hundred acts in one)
MOHANDAS
The Geek
(please leave all pets at home)
N.B.: The Management accepts no responsibility
for anything at all.
* * *
3
Patterns in the Dust
(the Doctor takes coffee while history unfolds)
At around nine in the morning, the two Remote riders who’d been sent to execute Magdelana Bishop finished the long ride back to the town they called Anathema. The settlement had been built around the Mains of the Remote’s ship, and the town had been named in honour of one of the Remote’s great cities, the Faction‐built metropolis that had been lost to history nearly eighteen hundred years previously. Not that many of the Remote had even heard of the original Anathema.
Thanks to their transmitter/receivers, the riders had been in contact with the town throughout the journey, so the Remote knew what to expect. Even so, the horsemen made their report to the rest of the town in the usual fashion, just in case anything had got scrambled during transmission.
New alien presence, said the riders. Wearing a blindfold, for unspecified reasons. Apparently in control of a stellar manipulator. DNA recorded, and found to be Gallifreyan in origin, but with unidentified impurities. Not Time Lord‐normal, possibly some new High Council biological weapon, like the two aliens who’d been crucified in the desert a few months ago.
Anathema II made its plans accordingly.
* * *
From the desk in the upstairs room, Magdelana had a pretty good view of the square