Doctor Who_ Prime Time - Mike Tucker [48]
Ashby stood motionless, a machine to be commanded by the Fleshsmiths, no will of his own. He turned his head, sweeping the camera that had become his eye over the figures inside the house.
His body suddenly twitched. He swung the camera back to the window, zooming in. A dark-haired woman filled his view.
Something flickered across Ashby’s scarred face, something buried and suppressed by the Fleshsmiths struggled to the surface. Something familiar about the woman.
Pain suddenly seared through his skull, waves of pain, blinding him, doubling him over. In his head he could hear the surgeon general giving instructions, driving his memories back.
Ashby clutched his head, and staggered into the cool sanctuary of the woods.
The surgeon general peered at the holographic image of Ace that hovered in the damp air, a hungry leer on his face. He stabbed at a control, freezing the image, and leant back. He turned to his waiting aides.
‘It is gratifying to see that there is such determination in these creatures, such strength. It is a shame that we cannot harvest that intellect and determination as easily as we can harvest the substance of their being.’
His deputy shambled forward. ‘Is the girl a threat to our plans, Surgeon General?’
The Fleshsmith shook his head.
‘Lukos has turned her into a toy, an amusement for his own insipid schemes. She is no danger to us and of no importance. It will keep Lukos distracted.’
Trasker’s spinner settled into the Channel 400 car park with a low hum.
‘OK. We’re in.’
Ace shrugged off the blanket that was covering her and clambered out, looking around her. The car park was full, staff going about their everyday business. No one paid her any attention. She helped Gatti out of the car.
‘We’ll stick to the outer corridors,’ said Trasker. ‘There’s no reason for Lukos to suspect that you’ve come back into the studio, but it would be stupid to get complacent.’ She crossed to a door and pressed her ID card into a lock. The door slid open. ‘We’ll head for the newsroom. If I can get up there then I can get you a freelancer’s card that will give you access to all the areas that you need.’
Ace nodded, hefting her rucksack on to her shoulders and followed Trasker into the building.
The Rooth family sat captivated by the flickering screens as Ace was paraded in front of them. Mrs Rooth rocked backwards and forwards in her chair, bubbling with excitement.
‘To think, that girl in my house, and the Doctor. Ooh, it’s so exciting. We should be able to charge more for the rooms now that people know they stayed here, I’ve been telling everyone.’
Her husband shot her a look. ‘Shh!’
‘But, Maltin, they might have some influence. They might be able to get you on to the quiz shows, you’re terribly good, you’ always get the answers right. We’d have to come of course, to see you play...’
‘Will you be quiet, I’m trying to watch!’
Freel Rooth sighed. It was always the same argument between her parents, mum always goading dad to enter more and more competitions, always pushing for him to appear on the screens. Freel didn’t like the quiz shows. She liked the adventure shows, and the ones with monsters. She had been following with delight the battle of the Doctor against the Zzinbriizi.
She lay stretched out on the floor playing with her new toys. The shops had already started selling models of the Doctor and Ace, as well as the monsters that they had fought.
A dozen figures lay scattered across the carpet. Daleks, Cybermen, Krill... There was going to be a full range and Freel was determined to collect them all.
A splintering noise made her turn round. ‘What was that?’
Her father gave a sigh of irritation. ‘Is no one going to let me watch this programme in peace?’
‘But I heard something,’ Freel protested.
‘Then go and look!’
‘All right, all right.’ Freel clambered to her feet sulkily.
‘It’s a boring programme