Doctor Who_ Peacemaker - James Swallow [46]
He smiled with genuine warmth. ‘Good girl. Now hold on, Martha Jones. You’re the strongest person I know.’
‘I feel cold,’ she told him. ‘That’s shock. I’m going into shock.’
‘It’s just the breeze,’ he replied. ‘Sun’s gone behind a cloud, that’s all.’
113
‘Liar,’ managed the girl, forcing a tight smile. She fingered the edge of the burn hole in her jacket. ‘Oh. This is ruined. It’s my favourite.’
‘No problem. We’ll fix it. And you too.’ He nodded. ‘Just trust me.’
‘Doctor. . . ’ Martha clutched at his lapel and pulled him closer. ‘I have to tell you. . . ’
He shook his head. ‘No, shhh.’
She was on the edge of passing out, a weak grin briefly on her lips. ‘Not that. . . You think S’all about you, don’t you?’ Martha whispered. ‘No Listen. Godlove. Godlove’s in the iron mine. Crow knows where. . . ’ Her eyelids fluttered and she fell into unconsciousness.
The Doctor met Nathan’s gaze and the boy recoiled at the fire he saw in the tall man’s eyes. ‘Look after her,’ he ordered, and the youth nodded, coming to her side. He saw Walking Crow bend down as well, the Pawnee ripping off a sleeve from his shirt to use as a makeshift bandage.
The Doctor turned and rose once again, his long coat snapping open as he advanced fearlessly towards the longriders. The expression on his face was brimming with wrath, his jaw clenched and his eyes as hard as chips of diamond. There simply was not enough power in the word fury to describe the man’s temper. Nathan remembered his father once speaking of an aspect some men took on, a ‘face like thunder’; and just so the Doctor was a nightmare storm all by himself.
‘Why?’ he spat the word as if it were the most venomous insult imaginable. ‘There was no need for that!’ He stabbed a finger at the two riders. ‘I swear to you, if she dies, I’ll end your whole blighted excuse for an existence!’
The sheer force behind his words quieted the longriders for a moment, but then Tangleleg sneered slightly, recovering his hollow-eyed poise. ‘Wipe off your chin, Time Lord, and be quiet. The life of the female is now in your hands.’
‘Weapons fire was in narrow-beam, low dispersal mode,’ noted Kutter. ‘The wound suffered by the target was small but degenerative.’ He studied Martha coldly. ‘She’ll die but it’ll take a while.’ The strange mixture of mechanical diction and trail-rat swagger in his accent made 114
his pronouncement all the more disquieting.
‘Undo this!’ The Doctor glared at the outlaws. ‘I know you can. Use your regeneration functions! Do it now!’
‘Unable to comply,’ said Tangleleg. ‘Function is insufficient. A command-level unit is required to repair organic damage of that kinda severity.’
‘You did this deliberately. . . ’ growled the Doctor. ‘Because you know only Godlove can save her life!’
‘Correct.’ Kutter nodded. ‘If you want her to live, you will take us to him. Reveal what you know or your companion perishes.’
‘Trade her for him, is that it?’ He grimaced, aghast. ‘Play a numbers game with human life?’
Kutter studied him. ‘We know who you are, Time Lord. The one who makes wilful changes to the balance of worlds based on his whims and passin’ fancies. You’ve done things far worse in your time.’
The Doctor fell silent, then shot a look at Nathan and Walking Crow.
There was a sad, angry emptiness in his eyes. The teenager understood exactly how he felt at that moment, enraged but powerless to do anything about it. He nodded to him and the Pawnee followed suit.
‘All right,’ the Doctor said, after a moment. ‘I’ll take you to him.’
Nathan helped Walking Crow and the Doctor to put Martha on the back of Godlove’s wagon, and with the long riders flanking them in an uneasy convoy, the Pawnee took the reins and urged the vehicle out and away from Ironhill. The Pawnee didn’t need to be told twice the urgency of the situation. One look at Martha’s face, the way her pretty features were tight with pain, her skin pallid and sweaty, and it was clear that she would not last the day unless help could be found.
The youth couldn’t take his eyes off her. All he