Doctor Who_ St. Anthony's Fire - Mark Gatiss [37]
Silently, she stepped through the small door into the room.
* * *
Maconsa drank a little more of the sugary liquid. It tasted vile but at least it was warm. He swilled it around inside his snout and cast a glance across the infirmary at Ran.
‘Lost it? How?’
Ran was gazing at the ranks of groaning soldiers, thrashing in pain on their filthy mattresses.
‘Cleverer than he thought, it seems. Made short work of the lock and disappeared.’
Maconsa laughed. And the other one, the… er… female?’
Ran rubbed his twitching face. ‘Grek’s sent her off to Porsim with Liso. He hopes it’ll bring the other one to heel.’
‘I bet Liso’s happy,’ chuckled Maconsa.
Ran attempted a smile. ‘Meanwhile, I’ve been detailed to find this Doctor creature before he runs riot.’
He smoothed down the front of his tunic. Maconsa looked at him.
‘Something on your mind, Ran?’
Ran sniffed and extended his long tongue, licking his protuberant eyes with its wet, glistening point.
‘When Grek refused you permission to speak… you know, when Liso nearly got his head blown off?’
‘Yes?’
‘What was it you wanted to say?’
Maconsa turned stiffly and cleared his throat.
‘Ah, well. That’s a little difficult, my dear Ran. It’s a question of faith, do you see?’
Ran rubbed his scrawny chin. ‘You’ve heard the rumours too, then. How did Grek react?’
‘How do you think?’
‘I should say he dismissed it out of hand as superstition. That there are more likely explanations than the return of the Keth.’
Maconsa sighed. ‘You’re exactly right.’
Ran folded his arms. ‘And what about you? Are you a superstitious man, Maconsa?’
‘I’ve seen too much recently for me not to be. I don’t pretend to know what’s happening, Ran. But something is very, very wrong here.’
Ran stood by him now, his twitching gaze flicking over the old surgeon. ‘Have you noticed the weather recently?’
Maconsa was momentarily taken aback. ‘The weather?’
‘Mmm,’ mused Ran. ‘The rain has taken on a rather petrified feel, wouldn’t you say?’
* * *
In the gloom of the Ismetch Temple, unaware that he was missed, the Doctor was sitting across from Thoss, his arms folded and his deeply lined face set in a thoughtful frown.
Eventually, he shook the old man’s arm and pulled the Pelaradator’s message from his gnarled claw.
Thoss lifted up his head and looked into the Doctor’s eyes. ‘You again. Have you not had enough?’
‘Far from it,’ said the Doctor. ‘Tell me what this means.’
Thoss made a low groan and champed anxiously on his thin black lips. ‘You wouldn’t want to know.’
‘But I do want to know,’ insisted the Doctor. ‘And if your books speak of people like me living here in the past then I want to know about that as well.’
Thoss struggled out of his chair and crossed to the shrine, caressing it lovingly with a gnarled claw.
‘The Keth are the agents of our destruction. The bringers of Armageddon. The –’
‘Yes, yes,’ muttered the Doctor. ‘Every world has a similar legend.’
‘Really?’ said Thoss. ‘How fascinating.’
‘What’s different,’ said the Doctor, ‘is that most people’s four horsemen of the Apocalypse don’t ride into town in person. So…’
He put out his hands, palms upwards, pleadingly. ‘Tell me about the… Keth.’
Thoss stroked his bearded face and made a contemplative sucking sound in his snout. ‘They were here in the Time Before.’
‘The Time Before what? Before you, you mean?’
Thoss inclined his head. ‘Before all things. The Ismetch. The Cutch. All things. They laid waste to the land and everything on it.’
The Doctor clasped his hands between his knees and leant forward in his chair. ‘But if they were here before… everything… how do you know about them? I mean, if they destroyed whatever civilization existed before yours, how do you know about them at all?’
Thoss blinked slowly. ‘You know, Doctor, that’s a very good question.’
The Doctor sighed. For a fount of all knowledge, Thoss was proving remarkably stupid.
* * *
Bernice held her breath as she tottered on the brink of death,