Doctor Who_ Match of the Day - Chris Boucher [89]
They clambered into the back of the runner and Sita set it in motion. „Was it him they were waiting for?‟ she asked.
„Oh yes,‟ Ronick said smugly. „They had him on his way to the electric scalp massage.‟
„I‟m accused of a double murder,‟ the Doctor said.
„Did you do it?‟ she asked
„Did you?‟
„I‟m the only one here who isn‟t a fugitive from justice,‟
Ronick said. „All I have to do is wait until the price on you two peaks and I can retire with honour and dignity and enough money to indulge myself to death.‟ He smiled and his eyes vanished briefly behind their folds of flesh.
„What about your friends in the force?‟ the Doctor asked.
„Won‟t they report you to your superiors?‟
„He hasn‟t got any,‟ Sita said. „None that he acknowledges anyway.‟
„Your friend the Enforcer bothers me,‟ said Ronick.
„And a duellist named Keefer bothers him,‟ the Doctor said.
„Keefer?‟ Sita asked. „Something special about him?‟
He‟s disappeared,‟ the Doctor said thoughtfully. Leela‟s disappeared too. She vanished when she went looking for him. His agent was a man named Jerro Fanson. On the basis of what‟s been happening I‟d say he was framed for murder.
Was that because he was Reefer‟s agent I wonder? I‟ve asked questions about Reefer too.‟ He looked at Sita. You obviously haven‟t though. His name meant nothing to you.‟
Sita said, „I have been asking questions about a mystery man who went through „Space Main security like it wasn‟t there. I didn‟t get a chance to find out what his name was but I know he was fast and I know he was clever, and he could have been a duellist.‟
„He could have been this Reefer then,‟ Ronick said. „So my feeling is that what we do now is assume they are one and the same and go and look for him.‟
That‟s pretty thin,‟ Sita remarked.
„That‟s what I was thinking,‟ the Doctor said. „That really is rather thin.‟
The fat policeman smiled chubbily. Thin works for me,‟ he said.
Chapter Fourteen
Keefer was disappointed with himself. This was not the way to approach the problem. He stepped over the body of the Fat Boy he had just shot and took the short sabre from his not-yet-cold but definitely dead hand. He was a professional with an instinct for counterattack and yet here he was running round this huge indulgence of a space monstrosity like some psycho brawler with a grudge, constantly looking for a fight.
From time to time he confronted and killed a ceremonial security man for no other reason than that they had got in his way and tried to kill him. He examined the razor-sharp sabre, hefting it and admiring its lightness and its perfect balance. It was a nice weapon but no match for a handgun, not even a handgun with reduced muzzle velocity. Why have a security force who dressed in battle thongs and used these things?
He smelled the food on the second hakai-warrior fractionally before he heard him, and heard him fractionally before he saw the movement flicker into the extreme of his peripheral vision. In a single smooth action he ducked to one side and stepped forward, pushing upward and turning in a pirouette made possible by the reduced gravity. As he spun he threw the short sabre at the ample gut of the onrushing giant. Although knife throwing was one of the secondary disciplines Keefer had been working on before he set out on this journey, he was coldly pleased and professionally satisfied to see the blade plunge home, stopping the huge man in his murderous tracks. It didn‟t look as though he would have to waste a precious bullet to get past this one.
Grimly the hakai-warrior glared at him and then with a grunt staggered on trying to get within striking distance.
Keefer took several steps backwards. The man stopped again.
He was clearly losing focus and his strength was draining away. He staggered forward, stopped and stood swaying uncertainly, staring at Keefer with unseeing inward-looking eyes. He dropped his own blade and tugged at the handle of the one that was stuck in him. It slipped in his hands and he tried again, pulling it at an angle. The savage sharpness