Doctor Who_ Psi-Ence Fiction - Chris Boucher [81]
It could be crucially important,' the Doctor said. 'Or it could mean nothing at all.'
Barry said, 'That's in the nature of all scientific investigation isn't it?'
The Doctor smiled. 'It's bottled in Yorkshire I understand,' he said, and turned and went into the control and monitoring suite.
There had been no chance for Leela to tell the Doctor what she was going to do. She had barely had a chance to think about it herself, and she doubted whether he would have listened to her in his present mood anyway.
It was partly the Doctor's fault. When the stranger had come out of the laboratory the Doctor had stepped back from the doorway to let him through and, because she was standing directly behind him and because he was wearing that ridiculous hat and unnecessarily long and bulky coat, he had blocked her view. She had caught only a passing glimpse of the man's face as he strode by, but that passing glimpse had puzzled and confused her a lot. She thought she remembered the face and yet she was almost sure his could not be the face she remembered. It must be a mistake she felt, but it was too important just to let it go. She must get a more direct look.
The Doctor had already gone into the laboratory by the time she had made up her mind and set out to catch up with the man as he hurried away down the corridor.
Her simple plan, though her trainers would hardly have called it a plan, was to find a way to circle round ahead of the man so that she could turn back and take a good look at his face as she passed him. Unfortunately, he had immediately speeded up and was soon walking so quickly that she had found herself unable to get in front of him without drawing attention to the manoeuvre. He seemed to be on some urgent errand, and as they crossed through the complex of buildings he showed no sign of slowing down and there was no indication that he might approaching his destination. From the way he was moving his errand could be taking him to the other side of the university and beyond.
Reluctant to give up, Leela carried on shadowing the man with a crude doggedness that she found shaming but unavoidable. She was forced to keep him in direct line of sight since it was not possible to fall back and rely on her tracking skills. Seeing him and not being seen by him would have been difficult for her under any circumstances. Trailing an enemy in this way had never come naturally to her. On the warrior-training grounds she had usually failed such tests despite being well camouflaged and in familiar territory. Here she was dressed conspicuously and she had no idea where her quarry might be heading.
Blending into the background was made even more of a problem in this place because she was still uncertain how to behave like everyone else.
The students seemed to her to have the same sort of complicated rules that a tribe would use to protect itself from strangers. Many of these rules were unspoken and you learnt them without knowing you were learning them. They were rules that could be learnt but could not be taught. Often you only realised they were rules when a stranger broke them. Sometimes they changed, and everyone knew they had changed but no one knew who had changed them or when. The Doctor told her this was called 'fashion'
and that it was a destructive, mindless and pointless thing. He was a loner though, and it was unlikely that he would ever understand how the rules worked. You had to grow up as a member of a tribe to understand what it was you might not know. She was Leela of the Sevateem. She understood what it was she might not know. She was not sure that she was even walking correctly. It was possible that her every movement could be setting her apart and pointing to her as a dangerous outsider. How long would it be, she wondered, before everyone noticed a dangerous outsider was following one of their people, maybe one of their tribal elders?
Her concerns turned out