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Doctor Who_ Last Man Running - Chris Boucher [88]

By Root 717 0
we go?’

Leela gestured at the display. ‘Do you want me to go on looking for it?’

The Doctor was becoming increasingly concerned about the time Leela had been in direct contact with the systems.

He regretted calling it communing because that sounded innocuous and, far from feeling threatened, she was pleased that she could do it and he could not. In fact he was feeling guilty at using her that way despite his concerns. ‘Leave it,’

he said, and when she frowned at his tone, he smiled and added, ‘We can come back and try again.’

The straight line, which he had found could subjectively be in any direction, took the Doctor out of the alcove, and Leela followed him. As with the rest of the procedures, Leela, however, was now quite unfazed by the bizarre discontinuities that bothered him and should have terrified her and filled her with superstitious awe.

Waiting in the pit, what remained of the OIG team was by contrast close to panic. At least the members who were still in touch with reality were. Pertanor looked shaken and the protective arm he had round a trembling Rinandor was clearly as much for his own comfort as for hers. Fermindor was grimly expressionless but the unconscious flexing and unflexing of his fists and the nervous shifting of his weight from one foot to the other suggested to the Doctor that he was struggling to stay in control. Kley was blank and unmoving. Belay was interested and relaxed as he stared around him, whispering to himself.

‘You can come out of there,’ the Doctor said.

Kley started to shuffle forward. Fermindor grabbed her arm and stopped her. She made no attempt to struggle but stood waiting for her next instruction. ‘What’s that about?’

Fermindor said pointing at the two Monly corpses.

‘Your friend Sozerdor has been experimenting,’ the Doctor said. ‘That’s why you’re all here of course. You were experimental subjects. You were chosen as cover and for him to use to test out the systems. You were sent here as laboratory rats.’

‘Sozerdor’s dead,’ Pertanor said.

‘I saw him die,’ Rinandor said.

Fermindor said, ‘We all saw him die.’

‘I believe you saw Monly die, too, didn’t you?’ the Doctor pointed out.

‘This is death,’ Kley murmured. ‘We are all dead.’

Fermindor turned her round to face him. ‘Listen to me. You are not dead. Whatever this is, you are not dead.’

Her eyes were only half focused on his face, she could have been remembering rather than seeing. ‘It’s not so bad,’

she said.

‘ You are not dead, Serian, and I am not dead. None of us is dead.’ He took her face in his hands. ‘Serian?’ He had never noticed how soft her features were and how similar he was to her in height. ‘Do you know who I am?’ He was not that much stockier than she was, either, he realised.

Her eyes focused. It was as if she had woken up. ‘Hello, Fe,’ she said. ‘You’ve never called me Serian before.’

‘I’ve never been this scared before.’

‘It’s not so bad, she said.

‘Being dead?’

‘Being called Serian by...’

He took his hands from her face. ‘By a toody,’ he offered.

She put a hand out and stroked his cheek. ‘By you,’ she said.

Kley turned and looked at the Doctor. ‘Why are there two?’

she asked.

The Doctor said, ‘We haven’t found out precisely where it’s done yet, but somewhere in this complex you can put together copies of things.’ He squatted down beside the bodies. They already had the beginnings of a slight sheen over them as though they had been sprayed with a fine mist of water. Things decomposed, or rather deconstructed, faster here than on the surface. Perhaps it was a design element which was intended to keep the creations separate from their creators. It could be that they were made to be more fragile down here. That would explain why the copy of him was vulnerable to the radiation pulse.

‘Copies of anything?’ Rinandor asked, moving to get a better look at the two dead versions of Monly.

‘Anything alive,’ Leela said. ‘We think it has to be alive.’

‘I thought Monly alone was one too many Monlys,’

Rinandor said. ‘So did someone else, obviously.’

‘What about the clothes, then?’ Fermindor

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