Doctor Who_ St. Anthony's Fire - Mark Gatiss [78]
The Doctor pulled a face. ‘Oh, I see. Some sort of palace coup on the cards, is there?’
Ace began to move surreptitiously across the mattress. De Hooch’s gleaming eyes were fixed on the Doctor.
‘Of course,’ the Doctor began to expound, ‘you have the classic motive. Years of abuse at the hands of an intellectual inferior who got where he is through outrageous nepotism. It’s only right that you should take over.’
De Hooch’s prune face broke up into a sickly grin. ‘You can’t fool me, Doctor. Switching sides is the oldest trick in the book.’
The Doctor pointed to his ruined clothes. ‘Well, Parva, it seems I’m a turncoat without a coat to turn.’
De Hooch raised the blaster. ‘Rest assured, Doctor, that shortly you will be nothing very much at all.’
Ace leapt across the room, her legs arcing through the air and contacting De Hooch’s body at the base of his neck. He squawked and fell backwards against the cell wall. The filigreed cross on the wall fell off and cracked him across the forehead.
Ace grabbed the blaster and tossed it to the Doctor, who immediately tossed it back to her with a disgusted frown. ‘No. You keep it. Let’s go.’
‘Hang on.’ said Ace. She picked up the unconscious De Hooch in both hands and, grunting with effort, stuffed him into the cupboard.
‘That was cruel,’ said the Doctor.
‘Yeah,’ smiled Ace, ‘but he had it coming. And I enjoyed it.’
They ran from the room and back into the endless sun‐drenched corridors.
‘What are you going to do?’ called Ace breathlessly as they ran. ‘Blow up the ship? That artificial sun of theirs should make quite a bang.’
‘No, no, no,’ cried the Doctor, glancing at the rows of doors. ‘We need the ships intact if we’re to get any of the Betrushians off alive.’ He pulled up sharply. ‘Listen.’
‘What?’
‘Did you hear…’
They were both silenced by a low groaning from a nearby cell. The Doctor dashed across the corridor and slammed his shoulder to the door. It resisted. Ace blew it off its hinges with one blast from De Hooch’s gun.
Inside, almost invisible in the gloom, lay Thoss, curled up in a foetal ball.
‘Keth… Keth…’ he muttered.
‘No, Doctor, Doctor,’ said the Doctor lifting up the old reptile’s head. ‘You haven’t told me everything have you, Thoss?’
The old man’s blue eyes flickered. ‘It’s too late, Doctor.’
The Doctor hauled him to his feet. ‘It’s never too late. Come on. We’re getting out of here.’
* * *
Miller’s team had penetrated well into the sweltering jungle when he held up his hand and halted. Spindly trees, their rain‐heavy leaves curving overhead to form a natural green ceiling, rustled in the wind.
‘This’ll do,’ muttered Miller and began to charge up his flame‐jet.
Once, he reflected, this sort of work would have given him great pleasure. As a youth, and a member of the Chapter’s Initiate League, he had been amongst the first to torch the old city of Urrozdinee following its government’s suicidal refusal of the rule of Saint Anthony.
He could never forget the thrill the blaze had given him, nor the sight of the once‐proud buildings silhouetted against a fiery red sky as the conflagration took hold.
Perhaps he was just getting old but it just didn’t have the same appeal anymore. And, besides, burning trees was so passé.
He sniffed and pressed two black buttons on the side of the nozzle. A tongue of fire leapt out with a whoosh and incinerated a nearby cycad. The flame‐jet was ruthlessly efficient. The tree crumbled to sooty black ash almost at once and fell in on itself.
Miller turned and began a systematic torching of the surrounding foliage, his comrades doing likewise, all looking rather bored. Flame began to erupt in a wide circle as the Chaptermen fanned out.
It was only during a lull in the proceedings that Miller became aware of a rumbling, cracking sound deep beneath his feet.
Again he held up his hand for silence and looked around curiously. The ground was trembling. The air itself seemed to