Doctor Who_ Relative Dementias - Mark Michalowski [111]
But the two of them were too busy staring at the Annarene, and Ace felt a pang of sympathy for them: as if having Alzheimer’s disease wasn’t enough, the last couple of days had seen them wired up to a computer, sent through a transmat and generally terrified out of their wits. And now, to cap it all, they were faced with two orange stick-insects the size of humans.
Dear God, she thought. This was enough to push anyone over the edge.
Ace was only relieved they hadn’t used the other stairs: the sight of a dozen charred bodies piled up in the kitchen would have had them screaming in seconds.
‘I don’t think so,’ Jessie said slowly, enunciating every word dearly as though in a village drama society production of The Mousetrap. ‘We are here on the instructions of the Annarene High Council to arrest and detain you for crimes against the Protectorate.’
Ace felt as if her heart had stopped. The Annarene glanced at each other, their heads snapping from side to side sharply. She saw the mouth of the male open and close soundlessly.
‘Professor! They’re Annarene! Good Annarene!’ she cried triumphantly.
Before anyone else could react, Michael launched himself at one of the Annarene. In a sprawl of limbs, it went down, clattering against the floor like a pile of dry sticks, its arms thrown up to protect itself. She heard Michael shout in pain as its barbed body scratched against him. And before Ace could even think of going for one of the others, it was moving across the floor, faster than she could ever have imagined – considering that she’d only ever seen their slow, ponderous movements in the fleshsuits. And right behind it was Sooal.
‘Stop them!’ Ace shouted to no one in particular, suddenly realising that if anyone was going to stop them, it would have to be her. Once they were through the transmat, it’d be too late: they’d turn it off from the other side and they’d be beyond reach. Almost without thinking, she threw herself at the fugitives, only to find herself tangled up with the Doctor, who’d taken a step forward. In a deft movement, as two of the Annarene and Sooal sprinted for the transmat point, he reached out and snatched the control sphere from the fleshsuited Annarene’s hands. She whirled, surprised, and gave a tiny, clicking gasp. Behind her, her companion stepped silently through the transmat.
‘I’ll take that, thank you!’ said the Doctor. And with that, he tossed it over his shoulder to Ace, who caught it perfectly. Then he took a step forward and gave Sooal a hefty shove in the chest.
Ace almost laughed at the startled expression on his face as he staggered backwards into the female Annarene, and the two of them tumbled, silently, through the open transmat and vanished.
Behind her, Ace heard Michael shout ‘Oi!’ and felt herself pushed aside by thin, bony fingers: she cannoned into the Doctor, still managing to keep a hold of the control sphere, as the last Annarene thrust her aside and headed for the open transmat. It didn’t - even notice that she had the control sphere.
The Doctor wobbled on his feet as the Annarene leaped through the air and disappeared – and with a long, low sigh, he collapsed to the floor. His hat rolled from his head, and something sparkly and metallic fell from it.
The room was suddenly deathly quiet.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was like falling into thick, green treacle.
A wave of cold deadness swept through his body as Sooal tumbled backwards through the transmat. Around him shimmered a coruscating haze of blue which died within seconds. He tried to turn his head, but nothing happened. In front of him, through a pale, phosphorescent corona, he saw the unmistakable silhouette of the Annarene – the one that the Doctor had pushed through after him, moving ever slower towards him until it, too, froze, suspended in space.
And as the light died, Sooal saw, ranged around him, the sullen, patient outlines of crates, boxes, racks of weapons; gaunt, unknown devices stood silent, metal arms clasped to their