Doctor Who_ Lungbarrow - Marc Platt [62]
The Doctor softened his voice. 'Where do you think he's going to, Innocet? You didn't say. Where can he possibly go when there's no way out? Up the chimney?'
She shook her head.
Maljamin gave a little squeak.
Chris, his head awash with the voices, felt a hand on his arm.
A tiny old lady, whom he hadn't noticed before, was gazing up at him. She looked like the old lady in a film called The Producers. The touch me, hold me old lady. Only smaller. He and Roz had watched the film at a late-night show in Melbourne, 2004. Neither of them got many of the jokes. It made it worse when the rest of the audience were killing themselves laughing.
'Take me home, dear,' said the old lady. Her voice was frail and plaintive. 'I'm Jobiska. This isn't my home. We can't get out, you see. It's al wrong.'
Her pale eyes reddened with tears. Chris thought of Arkhew's bout of weeping and didn't know what to say. He squeezed her hand gently. After a moment, she hobbled away and climbed up into the arms of another chair.
Innocet had final y taken off her cloak. The Doctor was staring in disbelief at the huge shell that she carried on her back. 'What are you doing, Cousin?' he asked. 'What does all this mean?' He touched the ginger-grey shell and Chris realized that it was living hair. Her hair, wound continuously as a single plait that must stretch for yards if it was ever unravelled.
She raised and lowered her shoulders as if testing the weight of her burden. 'It will not be cut until we are al released. It is my guilt.'
'Why?' said the Doctor gently. He glanced across at the covered mirror. 'What mustn't Satthralope know about?'
Innocet suddenly turned her head towards Maljamin.
Simultaneously, the rush of voices inside Chris's head exploded.
The Cousin's head had slumped forward on to his chest.
Jobiska made a little whimpering sound.
'I'm sorry,' said the Doctor and took off his hat again. He stood quietly for a moment, apparently paying his respects. 'I can't remember how many generations he was.'
Innocet laid her hand on Maljamin's head. She closed his eyes.
Chris picked awkwardly at the nasty scrape on his knee. In his head, the voices were growing desperate.
The Doctor leant forward and started to pick at the knots that tied Maljamin to the chair.
'Leave it!' snapped Innocet.
'He can't be left like this while he regenerates.'
'He's not going to regenerate.'
'What? He's not that old.'
She grabbed the Doctor's hands and started to pull him away. 'You must leave him.'
90
Maljamin's body tensed. His head jerked up and he strained against his bonds. The loosened knot unravelled. He lurched up out of his seat and lumbered towards the door. Innocet reached for him, but he pushed her roughly backward and she collided with the Doctor.
Chris catapulted out of his chair and grabbed Maljamin, wrestling him to the ground. The skinny Cousin struggled with the strength of an Ogron, but Chris forced his arms back behind him and held him transfixed. His head swivel ed to stare at his captor. His eyes were dead to the world.
'Let him go,' cal ed Innocet.
'What?' chorused Chris and the Doctor.
'Don't try to stop him. It's too late for that.' She moved towards the door. 'Please, allow him at least some dignity in his passing.'
Chris set a knee on Maljamin's back and looked to the Doctor for instruction.
'Hold on to him,' said the Time Lord and turned to Innocet. 'I want to know where he's going.'
'Away from the misery you've caused,' she declared.
'Arrant nonsense, Cousin!'
'Just let him go!' Innocet threw open the door and froze.
A huge figure was standing outside. The dim lamplight threw half its shape into darkness. It made no move at al .
Maljamin burst out of Chris's grasp, sending the Adjudicator sprawling. He stumbled away out of the room, past the waiting Drudge.
The Doctor and Innocet stood framed in the doorway, waiting to see what the servant would do. By the time Chris joined them, Maljamin had already vanished in the gloom.
The Drudge made no move. It just stared ahead at the Doctor.
'What does it want?' whispered