Doctor Who_ St. Anthony's Fire - Mark Gatiss [42]
‘This is sacrilege, Doctor,’ moaned the old man. ‘I can’t think why I’m letting you do it.’
‘Because,’ muttered the Doctor, his penknife clasped between his teeth, ‘I need to find out everything of relevance here. And this stone,’ he gestured upwards with his hand, ‘intrigues me.’
‘I’ve told you. It’s the Keth‐stone. Apart from religious attachments, I can’t see what bearing it has on the situation.’
The Doctor sighed, his words indistinct through his teeth.
‘I know you’re taking all this in your stride, Thoss, but I dare say your fellow countrymen quite fancy surviving this particular holocaust. I’d like to help if I can.’
Thoss looked up, his face pained. ‘And where does the stone come into it?’
The Doctor’s face rumpled.
‘Ah, well, I don’t know that just yet. But there’s more to this Keth business than meets the eye.’
He gave a final heave, his shoes scraping on the shrine’s surface, and found himself perched on a ledge towards the top. The discoloured stone shone dully in the candlelight.
The Doctor poked experimentally at its corners and found the stone yielding easily to his knife.
‘The important thing,’ he grunted, ramming the blade home, ‘is to find out how long this planet’s got left to live. And precisely why it’s in the state it is.’
Thoss straightened up and rubbed the small of his back, drifting into the shadows with a grimace fixed on his snout.
‘It is the Keth,’ he said simply.
‘Well, more likely an instability in the planet’s core. I’ve seen it happen before. Ah!’
The stone popped out of its housing and into the Doctor’s palm. He examined it carefully. It was flat and smooth but had not been cut like the others in the shrine. Strange, scratchy indentations seemed to have been scoured onto it.
The Doctor frowned and then almost fell from his perch as the outer door was flung open and Ran and his men clattered inside.
‘Just as I thought,’ shouted Ran, scooping up the Doctor’s incriminating hat which he had noticed earlier. ‘Not only do you flout the orders of Commander Grek, beast, but you vandalize one of the greatest relics of our culture!’
The Doctor shrugged and smiled. ‘I don’t know what I like but I know a lot about art.’
‘What?’
‘There’s more to this shrine of yours than you think. I need to speak to Grek urgently.’
The Doctor slid down the façade of the shrine and slipped the stone into his waistcoat pocket.
‘Take him,’ ordered Ran.
The Doctor seemed quite unperturbed. The guards slid their claws around his arms and marched him up the stairs.
Ran regarded Thoss with an amused look, the thin flesh of his eyelids slipping into a spasm.
‘Aiding a Cutch spy carries the death penalty, old man.’
‘He’s not a Cutch spy,’ sighed Thoss. ‘He is the one whose coming is written of. Now, get out of my way. I must speak to Grek.’
Ran barred his way. ‘Suddenly everyone wants to see Grek.’
He smiled and held up a talon theatrically as though struck by an idea. ‘I tell you what, Thoss, I’ll arrange for you to see the commander just after I’ve demanded the Doctor’s execution. How about that?’
He turned on his heel and clattered up the stairs.
Thoss sank down at the base of the shrine and passed a claw over the concealed entrance to the passageway. He gazed thoughtfully at the stone‐flagged floor.
* * *
The low, heavy clouds flared with electricity as Grek looked out over the lip of the trench. Thunder boomed in the distance, rolling over the rain‐drizzled jungle. He raised dispirited eyes heavenwards.
Priss waded through the trench towards him and attempted a salute.
‘Sir.’
Grek shivered. He had become accustomed to bad news but there was something about his junior officer’s bearing which disturbed him.
‘What is it, Priss?’
Priss was literally wringing his claws, his eyes swivelling in their large sockets. ‘Sir, we’ve lost contact with the dirigible fleet.’
‘What?’
‘They were almost at Porsim, according to the messages.’
He stuffed a sheaf of thin papers into Grek’s claws. The information seemed all the more real and frightening in the terse staccato of the telegraph.