Doctor Who_ Match of the Day - Chris Boucher [90]
„You people eat too much and your blades are too sharp,‟
Keefer muttered as the reaction to the fight made him shiver and feel momentarily nauseous. He picked up the blade that the man had dropped. He wondered briefly why the hakai-warriors didn‟t throw these short sabres when the chance was there. They were perfectly balanced for throwing. „You could have thrown me dead as soon as you saw me.‟ Maybe it was against their code. No guns, no throwing. „Too easy for you, Fat Boy?‟ A lot of warrior cults were more interested in rules and superstitions than in getting the job done. It was a sort of arrogance and like all arrogance it was based on stupidity. „You‟re underestimating me. You and the Lady Hakai are seriously underestimating me.‟ He moved on down the corridor. Getting the job done was all any of it was about.
Finding her and finding out what was going on: that was all he had to do. Hakai-warriors might have a whole different agenda, but that was their problem. His problem was that he could spend a lifetime wandering about and never come close to his target. She could be anywhere. She could remain hidden and wait for him to die of old age. And sooner or later the Fat Boys would start to take him seriously enough to forget some of their superstitions and cut through some of their rules: he swung the blade a couple of times to loosen himself up again. This was too much like an open contract: they would keep coming without challenge and he would keep killing them until he missed one... He ran quickly through his sense-sharpening routine. He needed a new tactic, one that would bring the Lady Hakai to him. He must get hold of something she valued and force her to come for it.
But what does a woman who can have anything she wants really value? It had to be something that she needed. He had to take something that she couldn‟t do without. And then it struck him. It was obvious, he realised: he had to take the ship.
She lay almost completely outside the range of the lenses of the watching eyes. Part of one foot was all that could be seen.
It twitched and cramped in barely discernible spasms.
„Leela?‟ The pilot‟s voice was panicky. „Leela! Leela what‟s happening, has something happened? Leela?‟
She lay behind the curtain of the ablutions unit, with her foot part way through the small gap she had left, and faked the involuntary movements that might be the result of striking her head, or choking, or whatever it was that had struck her down as she was entering the small cubicle.
„Leela don‟t do this to me! I‟m in no mood to be scuffled about with.‟
He sounded almost convinced, Leela thought. He needed a bit more encouragement. She made the smallest of whimpering, gargling sounds in her throat and twitched her foot. Was it enough, she wondered? She knew she had only one possible chance at this. If she did not fool him now, if he saw through the ruse, she could not try it or anything like it again.
„Leela I know there‟s nothing wrong with you.‟ The pilot‟s words were saying one thing but his voice was saying something different. She could hear his uncertainty. „Stop playing games, Leela. It‟s not funny. You must think I‟m a complete moron. I know there‟s nothing wrong with you. Stop joking around or I shall get angry with you. I can make things unpleasant for you if I get angry with you.‟ She resisted the temptation to make bigger twitches and to groan more loudly. It was like trapping sunbirds in the clearings beyond the village. Jerk the bait about too much and you frightened them off. You had to use small movements, though, if you wanted to keep them interested. You could not catch sunbirds with bait that looked dead. It would be no use if the pilot thought there was nothing he could do for her. If he thought she was already dead, her plan would be dead too. She arched her foot a little and sucked air tightly into the back of her throat so that it made a feint rattling gasp.
„Leela,