Doctor Who_ Silver Nemesis - Kevin Clarke [18]
Ace began to see the connection. ‘So you had to stop Lady Peinforte...’ she began.
‘Or anyone else,’ interrupted the Doctor.
‘... ever putting the three bits together.’
‘So,’ nodded the Doctor, ‘I launched the biggest one into space.’
‘But you got the sums wrong.’
The Doctor sighed. ‘Yes,’ he admitted. He stared sadly into the distance as they continued to hurry along, the bow still pulsing with silver light. ‘Instead of going into a permanent circle, every orbit was bringing it back to its point of departure. It was only a matter of time.’ To Ace’s relief, given the expression of such deep sadness on his face, the Doctor’s attention was drawn back to the bow.
‘Ah,’ he said, ‘we’re getting close. Look.’
The bow had begun to buzz slightly, and the light flashing from it was now becoming slightly brighter.
‘I’d feel a lot safer tracking them inside the TARDIS,’
Ace complained.
The Doctor, however, was firm. ‘The Cybermen might trace the TARDIS. This way we let our validium find theirs,’ he told her.
‘Isn’t that a bit old-fashioned?’ asked Ace.
The Doctor looked at her and smiled. ‘I’m an old-fashioned guy,’ he said.
Another, admittedly different, old-fashioned guy, in the form of Richard, was at that moment peering nervously round the corner of a back street at the cars passing a few yards away. Lady Peinforte wrapped the glowing silver arrow back in its cloth and pointed firmly in the direction of Windsor High Street. Richard quailed.
‘My lady,’ he ventured, ‘there are people there.’
Lady Peinforte snorted indignantly. ‘Of course there are people. This is Windsor. Come.’ She marched past him.
Richard took a deep breath, crossed himself, and followed.
Oblivious to the stares and giggles they were attracting, Lady Peinforte strode along the High Street with something approaching pleasure.
As Richard and she passed, two skinheads leaning against a wall outside an off-licence nudged each other and began to follow.
As De Flores had ordered, Karl pulled the van to a halt in the lay-by. De Flores reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a large leather wallet. He unfastened it and took out a number of gems and some currency. These were evidently not of immediate concern to him. Finally he located a small pouch and, pulling the string which fastened it, shook into his hand a quantity of gold dust.
He glanced up at Karl’s interested expression, and carefully poured the dust back into the pouch.
‘You are wondering what the gold dust is for, Karl,’ he said, and smiled bleakly.
Karl nodded.
‘Eventualities,’ said De Flores. ‘Drive on.’
In a clearing in the forest outside Windsor, the grass suddenly stirred as a strong wind rushed downwards at it.
It flattened in a large circular patch. There was a powerful and hypnotic humming sound which grew steadily louder in volume, growing to a crescendo. The birds in nearby trees scattered. Having reached its height, the sound suddenly stopped.
On the edge of the clearing there was a ruined crypt: bleak, stark, and eerie.
Outside, the silence seemed to grow more intense. This time the Cyber spacecraft did not need to conceal itself; it flashed into visibility and hovered to a landing. The panel door slid open and the Cybermen began to emerge. They carried among them the statue of Nemesis.
‘Are you looking at me?’ said the smaller of the two skinheads, stepping firmly in front of Lady Peinforte. He and his larger friend had followed her and Richard through the town, and now, on a deserted road on the outskirts, they had made their move. Lady Peinforte, however, was firm.
‘Stand aside,’ she said imperiously.
The second, and larger, skinhead belched and took a swig from the can of lager with which he had been refreshing himself. He looked Richard up and down, obviously assessing his weight and height and apparently finding it deficient. Richard said nothing. ‘What are you?’
the bigger skinhead