Doctor Who_ Peacemaker - James Swallow [18]
Martha felt a pang of sympathy for him. ‘How old are you?’
‘He’s 15,’ said Jenny.
‘Going on 16 this fall!’ the youth insisted. ‘I ain’t no kid, if that’s what you’re implyin’.’
‘Nathan.’ The Doctor gave him a steady look. ‘These dreams you have, the sickness. Martha and I think there’s a connection between them.’
‘My pa said I shouldn’t talk no more about it.’
‘You can talk to us,’ Jenny insisted. ‘We’re here to help you. This man is a doctor, a proper physician, not like that charlatan Godlove.’
‘Or close enough,’ admitted the Doctor. ‘Nathan, if you let me, I might be able to find a way to help you sleep again.’
The boy sighed, and for a moment he seemed like a scared child.
‘I’d sure like that.’
They sat opposite each other, the Doctor and the boy, across the kitchen table. Martha sat next to him and opened Nathan’s shirt, examining his chest, listening to his heartbeat while the Doctor entered a new setting on his sonic screwdriver.
‘What are you looking for?’ asked Jenny.
‘Scars,’ said Martha. ‘Lesions or pockmarks, damage to his lungs, anything that could show that he had smallpox. People who survive infection are always marked.’ She paused. ‘But there’s nothing here.
He’s perfectly healthy, as if he was never sick. It’s almost –’ Martha gave the Doctor a loaded glance.
‘Like he’s been regenerated,’ he said. The Doctor turned to Nathan and spoke in a soft, kind voice. ‘I want you to listen to me,’ he told him, waving the sonic back and forth in front of the boy’s face, letting the glow of the blue light soothe him. ‘Just listen. Concentrate on my voice and the glow, nothing else.’
46
Nathan gave a sleepy nod.
‘ Na-ru, na-ru, na-ru,’ hummed the Doctor, ‘ na-ru-na-ru,’ The tune was lilting and unearthly, and gradually the boy relaxed. He went slack in the chair, his eyes distant, soothed by the hypnotic mantra.
‘What is that peculiar melody?’ whispered Jenny.
‘Venusian lullaby,’ the Doctor said, from the side of his mouth. After a moment, he felt silent and adjusted controls on the device. ‘Nathan?
How are you feeling?’
‘Good,’ managed the youth.
‘I want you to tell me about the dreams. Tell me what you see.’
‘Scared,’ Nathan’s voice was thick and slow.
‘Don’t be,’ said Martha. ‘We’re all here. Me and the Doctor and Miss Forrest. There’s nothing to be frightened of.’
Jenny gave his hand a squeeze. ‘Go on, Nathan. Tell the Doctor what you dreamt.’
Nathan trembled. ‘War,’ he husked. ‘I dream war.’
The way the boy said it sent a chill down Martha’s spine. These were not the words of someone with an overactive imagination; somehow, Nathan could really see what he was describing.
‘A black sky, and it’s full of streaks, orange they are, like fire. Iron darts chasin’ each other, fast as an eagle. The moon’s real big up there, but it ain’t right. Too big, too red. A ring around it, shiny.’
‘Not Earth,’ said the Doctor in a low voice. He traced the sonic screwdriver over Nathan’s body as the boy continued.
‘The sounds are always the same. Cryin’ out, like lost souls. And cannons and lightning, lightning shootin’ from the guns. Stone cracking open. . . ’
‘Tell us about the creatures,’ said Martha. ‘The men.’
Nathan shook his head slightly. ‘Walk like men, but they ain’t men. I seen birds big as steers. Dog-faced things and bundles of thorny sticks that walk an’ talk. Monsters like knights outta storybooks, all silver and faceless. Everyone of ’em fighting, fighting against the guns. The lightning and the guns.’
The Doctor’s eyes narrowed as he studied his device. ‘There’s an energy trace in him, but very faint. It’s only become detectable since 47
he started to dream.’
‘Is that a medical instrument of some kind?’ asked Jenny.
‘It’s a lot of things,’ Martha replied.
‘Nathan, come back now,’ said the Doctor, taking the youth’s pulse at his neck. ‘Wake up.’
The boy blinked and jerked in the chair. ‘Whoa. Pa?’
The Doctor shook his head, ‘No, your dad’s not here right now, but you did great. You were very brave.’
‘No,’ insisted Nathan,