Doctor Who_ Prime Time - Mike Tucker [8]
‘If we’re going to watch television then I think we’d better find somewhere to shelter for a while, don’t you?’ He had to raise his voice over the drumming of the rain.
‘OK, Professor, but can we go somewhere where we can eat, as well, all these smells are beginning to make me hungry.’
The Doctor prodded at her midriff with his finger. ‘I swear I don’t know where you put it all.’
Ace grinned. ‘Bigger on the inside.’
The Doctor peered through the crowds. ‘There doesn’t seem to be anything but clothes shops here, let’s try over by that theatre.’
Huddling together under the battered black umbrella they launched themselves into the melee of people and traffic.
Greg Ashby peered out through the rain-splattered windows at the tide of people sweeping past him. He shook his head.
‘Where the hell do they all come from?’
He took another sip of his coffee and grimaced. If there was one thing that they didn’t do well on Blinni-Gaar it was coffee. Spooning more sugar into his mug he peered around the cafe. It was busy, mostly locals, squinting at the dapped-out monitor screen above the bar. A few offworlders, but they just hunkered down over their meals, trying to shut out the constant babble from the televisions and the splash of rain in the gutters.
Greg sighed. It hadn’t been a good week. No work. No leads. No money. He had hoped that Blinni-Gaar would have been a godsend for entrepreneurs; it had been quite the reverse. Channel 400 had the planet sewn up tight. No inroads.
No scoops. He had hoped to get an opportunity to see Vogol Lukos, but hadn’t even managed to get past the main gate.
He peered down at the cases full of video equipment. How the hell was he ever going to payoff the loan on those? Why the hell hadn’t he stayed with IntraVenus – Dogbolter was a git, but at least he paid on time. Either stayed with IntraVenus or stayed with... her.
He shook his head angrily. It had been months since she had left him. He should be over her by now. Moping wasn’t his style.
His gaze drifted to his technician on the other side of the table. Mournful green eyes stared back at him. Typical. Only he would pick a Monteekan as a partner. Clever, there was no doubt about that, but the most miserable bastards in the universe.
‘You OK, Eeji Tek?’
The blue-skinned alien nodded.
Greg sighed. A species without the ability to smile. Just what he needed in his current mood.
He turned his gaze back to the rain-splattered street. A couple were struggling through the traffic. As Greg watched they dodged out of the way of one of the city trams and huddled outside under the awning, peering at the menu.
With a gentle tinkle of bells the door opened and the two bundled inside.
Greg cast an appreciative eye over the girl as she shook the water from her hair. She caught him staring and a glimmer of a smile flickered over her face, then she turned to the counter and began peering at the food laid out under the glass.
Greg smiled to himself. Perhaps the day wasn’t a complete washout after all. He shifted his gaze to the man, who was wrestling with the umbrella in the doorway. It shut with a snap, flicking water all over the table near the door. The man held up his hands in apology, and began mopping the water off with a large paisley handkerchief.
Greg’s brow furrowed. The man was familiar somehow.
He knew the face.
He leant back in his chair, trying to get a better look. The man suddenly looked him full in the face, his steel-grey eyes not blinking, then turned away and bustled over to where his companion was peering at the sandwiches.
Greg sat back in this chair, his heart pounding.
‘Eeji Tek!’ He hissed. ‘The bloke at the counter, quickly.’
The Monteekan swivelled his head, compound eyes twinkling.
He shrugged. ‘Human. Ugly, like you all. Special not.
Why interest you?’
‘I think it’s the Doctor.’ Greg hauled his holdall on to the table, rummaged through it and pulled out a data pad.
Eeji Tek swung his head back, puzzled.
‘Doctor? Who Doctor?’
The pad hummed into life.