Doctor Who_ Last Man Running - Chris Boucher [23]
‘Are you going to try to help them?’
The Doctor smiled. ‘We’re going to help each other,’ he said cheerfully.
Pertanor had picked a spot close to a large tree. He reasoned it would be a source of extra firewood, and they could climb it if the flames weren’t enough to discourage any night prowlers. When they heard the grunting and howling in the distance, he left Rinandor sitting propped up against the base of the trunk and rushed about gathering fallen branches and brush and stacking it all within reach of where the fire would be.
‘Pity we lost both the packs,’ Rinandor murmured.
‘And the ship – don’t forget I threw away the ship as well,’
Pertanor muttered.
‘I wasn’t blaming you.’
‘No?’
‘I was just saying –’
‘It’s a pity I lost both the packs.’
‘It was a casual remark. I was just making conversation.’
‘If you hadn’t pulled the gun on Leela she might have found them for us. Oh sorry. Just making conversation.’
She shivered. ‘You can be very petty, you know.’
‘Yes I can,’ he said, taking off the jacket of his fatigues and draping it round her shoulders. ‘When I’m hungry and scared and tired, I can be very petty indeed. I’m sorry.’ She was still showing signs of shock, and it occurred to him now that he had no medical supplies of any kind if she really began to drop out of orbit. It was a pity he had lost both packs. ‘I suppose this means sex is out of the question?’
She forced a smile. ‘It could be a way of keeping warm.’
Her shivering was getting worse and there was a thin slick of sweat on her face. ‘I’m not cold enough yet, though.’
‘You’d better give me back my jacket,’ he said. ‘And can I borrow yours for a while?’ He began to lay the fire, working as quickly as he could. If he let her get any colder she could be in serious trouble. Heaping up bark and small sticks first, he then stacked the bigger stuff round it. At least it was dry.
He checked the charge on his gun. There was just about enough left to start it all burning.
‘We’re not going to make it, are we?’ Rinandor whispered.
‘Sorry, didn’t hear that,’ Pertanor said.
‘I said –’
‘I know what you said. I just didn’t hear it.’
‘Oh rah, rah, rah,’ she said and applauded weakly. ‘I’m impressed. When you get out of the OIG you’ll be running for office, will you? Or writing those inspirational thoughts they put on snack packaging?’
‘I am going to live to get out then?’
‘Clever. Scoring cheap points off a sick woman. Aren’t you ashamed?’
The gathering pack of night hunters chorused distantly. He wondered how many of them there would need to be before they set off in search of food, and whether a small fire would be enough to put them off. ‘Desperately,’ he said. ‘I can barely bring myself to look you in the breasts – eyes. Did I say breasts? I meant thighs – eyes.’ He pushed the muzzle of the gun into the tinder and pressed the trigger. A small flame appeared on the edge of a piece of bark and began to climb and crackle through the smallest sticks. He holstered the gun and carefully fed more wood to the flame, watching with relief as the burning strengthened and the flame divided and multiplied. ‘Besides, I intend to stay in. I told you I plan to be the first Director of the Group to rise from the ranks.’
‘Skinny-dick started as an ordinary Investigator, didn’t he?
That’s what he claims in every speech he ever makes.’
‘He was a fast-track firster on the rapid-promotion programme – it doesn’t count.’
Rinandor held out her hands to the fire. There wasn’t much heat from it yet but the brightening light seemed to raise her spirits and her shivering lessened. ‘I seem to remember some minor toody philosopher saying we should stop thinking like that.’
‘Now who’s scoring cheap points?’
‘You’re not a sick woman.’
‘I could be if it meant getting out of here in one piece.’ He put more wood on the fire. Rinandor already looked better, he thought. Of course, the warm, yellowy orange light could just be disguising her pallor,