Doctor Who_ Last Man Running - Chris Boucher [27]
Pertanor butted in. ‘She is remarkable, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, I think she probably is.’
‘But you’re not managing and training her?’ Rinandor persisted.
‘Hardly.’ The Doctor let his amusement show. ‘I do my best of course. She’s not the most easygoing companion I’ve ever had. She has the potential to be one of the most interesting, though.’
‘The interesting ones don’t last as long,’ Rinandor said.
‘But people like you make a lot more out of them, isn’t that right?’
‘People like me?’
‘Admit it, The. You may as well, Pertanor said. ‘You are acting as the agent manager for a contract duellist.’
‘And you’ve been caught breaking the law, which regulates that profession.’ She said the word with such withering contempt that the Doctor aborted his embryonic plan to use the mistake to his advantage. But what should he replace it with?
Pertanor was saying, ‘In strictly legal terms you and she shouldn’t be here –’ when in the near distance a sudden clamour of snarling and howling interrupted him. He hurriedly put another branch on the fire and stirred up a rising cloud of whispering sparks. ‘But I’m glad she’s around. And so is Ri if she’s honest.’
The noises from the pack hunters stopped as abruptly as they had begun, and in the straining silence Rinandor said, ‘If she is still around.’
She could hear them feeding on the carcasses and this time she knew it was real. Flesh tore greasily and sinews crackled as they were ripped and broken. Whatever was doing it grunted and fought short, fierce, snarling quarrels. Kley was certain her brain was enhancing and exaggerating what she was hearing but, compulsively, she checked the charge register on the power pack of her handgun yet again, just to be sure.
‘You can’t tell how big a thing is by the sound it makes in the dark,’ Fermindor whispered behind her and almost got shot as a result of her startled reaction.
‘Don’t creep around like that,’ she hissed. ‘I might have killed you.’
‘My turn on watch,’ he murmured. ‘Looks like you could do with a rest.’
‘Did you hear what I said, Senior Investigator?’ she demanded, the adrenaline rush overriding her carefully calculated rationality.
‘Yes, Chief,’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘I heard what you said. No disrespect, but does shouting seem like a good idea to you?’
‘Is your gun fully charged?’ she asked coldly.
‘The backup pack is.’
‘That’s not what I asked you!’
It’s three-quarters charged with a full-strength backup pack, Chief Investigator,’ he answered formally, though his tone made it clear that his opinion of her had changed for the worse.
As the shock subsided she regretted her stupidity, remembering the tutor who had told her that spoken words were, like death, irretrievable, and had then gone on to call her an uneducated lump. ‘I’m sorry, Fe,’ she muttered. ‘That was stupid of me.’
It was the first time she had ever used his casual name and Fermindor didn’t know how to react. He had a certain respect for her professional commitment and her lack of the sort of influential contacts firsters like her took for granted.
But he had no particular wish to be on familiar terms with her.
Obviously he was not even tempted to try calling her Serian.
‘We’re under a four-alarm decompression here,’ he said.
‘Bound to get cramps. For what it’s worth you haven’t missed a step that I’ve seen. Nothing that’s happened can possibly count against you, Chief. Officially or any other way.’
She stared at him for a long moment. ‘Thanks,’ she said finally. ‘I appreciate that. Now Monly’s gone I’m promoting you acting second, full mission ACI contract credit.’
‘If you think I’m up to it.’
‘We both know you’re up to it,’ she yawned. ‘I can’t register it on the ship’s computer so I’ll make a note of it in my wrist log for now.’
Fermindor nodded. Assistant Chief Investigator. It was only an acting field promotion but it still felt pretty good to him. And, if he was honest, it felt like no more than he deserved.
Leela threw the dead animal down by the fire. It was almost as broad as it was long, with two wickedly