Doctor Who_ Return of the Living Dad - Kate Orman [65]
Only once had he been obliged to duck into a shadow, hearing the footsteps long before the really short humanoid guy, Albinex, came around a corner, frowning. Once again, whatever angel of common sense was hovering over Jason kept him in the dark alcove, stopping him from stepping out and asking stupid questions.
The ship could probably carry about twenty passengers.
It was luxurious, but garish, as though it had been made for the tastelessly rich. But it hadn’t been used for years. Only one small food machine was switched on in the scullery. He’d even found dust here and there.
There was only one locked door. Jason decided that whatever was behind it, he wanted to see it.
He rummaged in his pockets for something that could be used to pick a palmprint lock. Well, ‘rummaged’ wasn’t the right word, given that there was almost nothing in his pockets. A chewed ballpoint pen, a shopping list, some contemporary money. Damn tight jeans.
He turned the time ring on his left index finger around. It was useless without the one Benny wore. How was she?
Was she worried about him? Nah, she was probably up to her arse in Daleks by now.
Now he saw why the Doctor carried so much junk around in those suspiciously vast pockets of his. Something for every situation. Hmm, what would the Doctor do, if he was here?
The door whooshed open. Jason jumped backwards and banged into the wall of the corridor, arms flying up into a fighting stance.
The Doctor said, ‘Don’t just stand there, get in here before Albinex comes back.’
‘Hello?’ said a deep male voice.
Benny slammed the phone down.
Well, what could she have said? I know you’re going to hurt your wife and your children. You might not believe it now. Or maybe you’ve already started. But I know. And I’ll —
I’ll — What would she do about it?
The bastard was alive. And in a fit state to be answering the phone. So Jason had neither killed him nor put him in hospital. Which meant history would play itself out the way it was written, and a little girl would have all of her fingers broken with a chisel, and a little boy would run away and end up selling himself in the glittering city.
And, if she changed all that, she might tear enough pages out of the book that history’s binding would come loose.
God! What was the right thing to do?
‘I had this dream,’ said Chris.
I don’t think I wanna hear this, said Roz’s expression.
She didn’t look up from the chessboard.
Chris twiddled with one of his knights. ‘Um, I’m just adjusting,’ he said. ‘I thought I ought to mention it, anyway, because it’s actually happened a couple of times.’
Get to the point, said Roz’s expression.
‘Both times, this big bunch of bees came in through the window.’
Roz cupped her chin in her hand, scowling down at the patterns of black and white.
‘I just get a bit worried sometimes,’ he said. ‘I told you about my poor old granddad, didn’t I? And then there was the body bepple. And the SLEEPY virus.’ He waved a hand at his head. ‘Not to mention restructuring the entire nature of reality with my thoughts. I kind of worry about my brain sometimes.’
I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about, said Roz’s expression.
Chris sat back, chewing on his lower lip. Now she thought he was an idiot, wibbling on like that. Oh well she’d always thought he was an idiot, probably. She probably only kissed him to get him to be quiet.
He took her pawn with his knight, making her scowl deepen. ‘I just thought I should mention it,’ he said.
I’m not interested in your dreams, said her expression.
You didn’t need to be an expert to read the utter concentration of Joel’s body language.
He was hunched in front of his computer, shoulders bowed, neck pushed forward. His glasses were a couple of inches from the screen, lit up with the flickering letters he was typing. There was a frown of intense thought on his young face.
She knocked on the open door. He didn’t even look up.
‘Yeah?’ he said.