Doctor Who_ Match of the Day - Chris Boucher [44]
The driver was a gaunt man in late middle age. He glanced in the mirror and grinned at the Doctor. ‘You don’t push your luck while the little boss is in the building,’ he said. ‘Not if you know what’s good for you.’
‘Not even the press?’ the Doctor said.
‘Not even the press,’ the driver chortled. ‘It came as a nasty shock to them when they found out he was lurking about in the background with the surveillance tridees on manual override.’
‘Why would he do that?’ Leela asked in a tone that suggested she understood what he had just said.
‘Word was he’s not keen on you two getting any more free publicity, not from his court, not if he can help it.’ He guided the runner onto the motorway feeder ramp and stopped it while he set the default preferences on the control board.
When he was satisfied that everything was functioning properly he released the brakes and relaxed, turning round in the seat and giving his full attention to his passengers. ‘I watched the case like everyone else,’ he said, as the runner jerked into motion and took itself into the traffic stream heading down onto the motorway. ‘I listened to the expert commentaries and the studio discussions. And the thing of it is I still don’t know whether you planned the whole thing right from the beginning or not.’
‘We did not,’ Leela said flatly.
‘Not that it really matters,’ the Doctor remarked.
‘It really matters to the little boss,’ the driver said. He put a skinny elbow on the back of the seat and rested his chin on his forearm. ‘Word is he thinks you did, he thinks you used him and his court and he is not a happy man.’
‘I’m amazed he let us go under the circumstances,’ the Doctor said. ‘Last time I saw him unhappy he shot someone.’
‘He has let us go?’ Leela asked suspiciously, her hand on the hilt of her knife.
If the driver noticed the threat he gave no indication of it.
With the slightest of shrugs he said, ‘The law of attack’s the law of attack. He represents the law of attack. He wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t within the law. Nobody kills without the little boss’s sign-off on the rules, that’s a scuffling big job when you come to think about it. Must weigh heavy on a man.’
‘Especially a small man,’ the Doctor said and found himself wondering what other laws there might be - and if in fact there were any. Surely there had to be other rules apart from those relating to killing. No society, not even a sick one like this, could function without some routine laws. If they were going to make a token effort to find this man Keefer it would probably be a good idea to get a notion of how everything else worked. ‘It’s not as if he’s responsible for all the laws though,’
he said casually, as though he was thinking aloud as much as making desultory small talk.
‘Well no,’ the driver agreed. ‘But the non-combat stuff is...’
again he shrugged, ‘sort of routine and a bit dull, right?’
‘Right,’ the Doctor said, nodding. ‘Important though. Can’t have people stealing and swindling and breaking traffic laws.’
The runner had settled into a central lane of the motorway and was travelling at a steady unthreatening speed. Around it in the other lanes other traffic was moving at other speeds.
Vehicles switched places, weaved in and out of lines of traffic, speeded up, slowed down; and every shift and movement was smoothly controlled and subtly choreographed by a powerful and totally reliable computer.
‘That’s what they tell us the cops are for,’ the driver snorted. ‘Not convinced myself. Scumsucking scufflers to a man in my experience. Even the women. What do you reckon, Doctor?’
‘I haven’t had a lot of experience of them,’ the Doctor said.
‘I should try to keep it that way if I were you,’ the driver said gravely.
‘I’ll do my best,’ the Doctor said and, thinking this conversation was a waste of time after all, looked out of the side