Doctor Who_ Set Piece - Kate Orman [95]
‘I have nothing to say to you,’ he said.
185
Kadiatu took out her handscan and slowly waved it over him. ‘The first step was making the gatekeepers, the time machines that looked like human beings. We grew them using scraps of DNA, from real human beings and from Ship. Then the hoppers.’ She closed the scanner, put it away. ‘And this is the third step.’
‘That’s the old cliché, isn’t it? It won’t hurt if you don’t fight it.’
‘Are you listening to me?’ She squatted down on the floor opposite him.
‘Relax and enjoy it. What nonsense.’
‘You wrecked Ship’s plan to use the gatekeepers to stabilize the rifts. It could have tried again. But it realized there was a way to give itself the power to travel through space-time.’
‘Where’s your sister? I thought she’d be here.’
Kadiatu leaned back on the wall. She was alone, and he wasn’t even listening to her, he was having a conversation with someone who wasn’t even there. ‘Look what they’ve done to me . . . ’ she whispered.
‘Don’t imagine I’m afraid of you. Familiarity breeds contempt.’
‘It could have been me, you know. Or Bernice, or Ace. All it takes is a time traveller. But I convinced the Ants that you were the best candidate.
You’ve crossed the time field more often than any of us. You may be the most experienced time traveller the universe has ever seen. All Ship has to do to access that experience is to install you.’
The vine around the Doctor’s left wrist tightened suddenly. The tip of the vine nosed against his skin, splitting into finer tendrils. One by one, they began to push their way into his flesh. He struggled in his green bonds, going into convulsions as Ship’s stuff began to fuse with his nervous system.
The vines pulled tighter, holding him still. The tendrils burrowing into his wrist began to shove their way up the nerves of his arm. His teeth were fiercely clenched, his head rolling and rolling. He did not scream.
‘The whole process won’t take more than an hour,’ said Kadiatu. Soothingly? ‘Once the tissue makes its way into your central nervous system, you’ll be an inseparable part of Ship.’ She looked down at her hands, the fine green lines winding their way down her aims. ‘And then we’ll be able to go anywhere in space-time. Anywhere at all.’ She sighed, sleepily. ‘I just want to go home.’
‘Click your . . . heels together,’ the Doctor snarled.
The butterflies, shaken free by the trembling vines, flapped ponderously away down the corridor.
Ace heard a sound. It took her a moment to work out what it was: a familiar voice, moaning. The sound rose, was cut off. God. For a moment she didn’t want to turn the corner.
186
At first, all she could see was a great mound of vines, green stuff spun like thread from the corridor wall. It was trembling, alive. Then she saw a hand, and a hint of dull fabric underneath. She walked slowly around the heap on the floor, right arm curled to her right side, and squatted down beside it.
The Doctor was in there, deep inside the vines, eyes tightly closed. His hands were drawn up to his chest, curled into claws. One of them twitched hideously. Ace watched with road accident fascination as the green stuff around his wrist pushed itself a little further into him.
The Doctor had given it his best shot, and he’d failed. Ship was going to make him part of itself, and then it was going to harvest the universe.
He mustn’t die alone.
She stood, soundlessly and sighted down the barrel of the flechette thrower, left-handed. Temple shot would be the easiest; he’d never know what hit him.
Her aim shook only very slightly.
Ace couldn’t believe how calm, how cool she felt. Was this how the Doctor had felt when he’d blown up Skaro, when he’d trapped the Timewyrm, when he’d let Jan die?
With a tiny motion of her thumb, she flicked off the safety.
His eyes snapped open. They were bright green, the same colour as the vines that surrounded him. She started, but he couldn’t see her, his blind eyes searching the corridor for the source of the sound.
Oh, God. Ace’s aim wavered.
Think about