Doctor Who_ Longest Day - Michael Collier [78]
She felt her face, feverishly. 'How old am I? How old do I look?'
'Hardly different,' said the Doctor, blushing. 'I'm never very good at guessing people's ages. A few years?'
She looked at him and wanted to believe it. The probe was made of dull metal, but she would see something of her appearance in its surface if she only dared look.
The Doctor took her gently by the arm. 'Looks aren't everything. They won't be anything at all if we don't get out of here.'
'Great,' muttered Anstaar bitterly.'Like I need a lecture right now.'
The Doctor moved on quickly, clearly desperate to change the subject.'What we really need is a good way out. Or a giant to give us a bunk up, of course.'
'Giants!' Nashaad's voice was high-pitched and scared. The Doctor and Anstaar followed the way he was pointing.
Two huge figures were standing way above them at the far side of the basin, heads swaying about, seemingly searching out scents on the snatches of breeze that blew about them. Small, stubby guns gleamed in the orange sunlight.
'Behind the probe!' hissed the Doctor to his companions, bundling up his coat and squelching through the mud as quietly as he could. Nashaad bounced lightly and beat Anstaar to the hiding place. The Doctor hushed him furiously as he landed noisily in some undergrowth.
One of the massive figures brought a funnel-like device up to its huge head.
'What's that?' whispered Anstaar, nervously.
'That's a Kusk,' replied the Doctor, his eyes never leaving the creatures.
Anstaar rolled her eyes.'No, I mean, what's that it's holding?'
A low, rasping swell of a voice boomed around the rocky walls of the basin.
'Creatures below. Surrender immediately. Allow us access to the Prize, or face a lingering death.'
The Doctor smiled a little apologetically. 'It's a loudspeaker for delivering somewhat predictable threats, I'm afraid.'
***
Felbaac stood facing the small crowd of men he had dragged back out into the heat of the day. The halls were full of injured men, and their moans of pain and the stench of their sweat was, Felbaac had decided, a little too distracting for proper speech-making. Besides, Sost was asleep and he didn't need that idiot poking his nose in.
'You've seen the evil of the K'Arme in action once again, you've felt it. It wasn't enough to leave you here to die. They had to hound you even here!'
He surveyed the rows of withering bruk, the dust and the broken shelters.
'You invited them here! They told us!' came a voice from the back of the small crowd, and a few angry assents started up.
Yast signalled them be quiet. They were coming for you anyway. Why else do you think we came here, to you? We wanted to free you, to take you away before this slaughter began.'
Felbaac resisted the temptation to raise an eyebrow at this outrageous lie.
The men seemed to be listening. He saw Yast catch his eye, but there was no cunning or knowing in the look. Just a tired anger, directed at Felbaac, at himself perhaps; at who knew what? And who cared, as long as the lies worked?
'That's right. Things are often not how they appear. Remember, I had to seem prepared to kill poor Tanhith here.' He gestured at the body of Tanhith, slumped at his feet, supported by his own hands, looking down at the ground and breathing heavily. 'But Tanhith knew it was subterfuge. And now my ship - our escape - is coming, and with it supplies, to make Tanhith well again, to make you all well again, and to give you freedom.
Freedom to fight back against those that would have you die in this filthy heat! I will give you vengeance. And -'he paused, looking each of the small crowd in the eyes - 'I will give you victory.'
The men looked at each other, and Felbaac could recognise just enough baffled hope in their eyes to know he had won them over. 'Go, tell your comrades. Tell them to meet me at the west plain beyond the settlement within the hour. We must strike out now to escape - to be free '
There was a pause. If Felbaac had been expecting any kind of applause, he was