Doctor Who_ St. Anthony's Fire - Mark Gatiss [83]
The Doctor nodded. ‘Things you couldn’t explain, or tie in with your faith’s traditional view of things?’
‘You may mock me, Doctor,’ said the old man sadly, his rheumy blue eyes watering. ‘But the Faith has been my only support for most of my life. It isn’t easy to admit you’re wrong.’
He pressed one panel of the polygon and a concealed door shushed open, revealing darkness beyond. Thoss extended a claw in a gesture of invitation. ‘I could not listen to the things it said. Perhaps you are made of sterner stuff?’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ said Ace.
The Doctor advanced. Ace grabbed his elbow. ‘It could be a trap.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. Do you want to stay outside and… er… watch my back?’
‘I’d rather go in with you. But I suppose I should stay out here, yeah.’
The Doctor patted her arm. ‘Tactics, Ace, tactics. Obviously that military training didn’t go to waste.’
She smiled ruefully.
The Doctor put out his hands and pulled himself across the threshold into the polygon. The door slid shut behind him, seamlessly resealing the panel.
Ace sat down on the cold metal floor and examined the blaster in her hand. It was an ugly, inefficient little weapon of a type for which she might once have had a certain fondness. Now it felt cold and alien in her hand.
Thoss stood some distance away, looking blankly into space.
Ace cleared her throat. ‘Read any good books lately?’
‘Yes,’ said Thoss without a trace of irony. ‘But it didn’t have a happy ending.’
* * *
Bernice prodded De Hooch in the back. As the strange party advanced through the corridors, she was forced to admit it was the oddest spaceship she had ever seen. Fluted columns and high vaulted ceilings were everywhere, enraptured statues in niches, stone‐flagged floors and, virtually everywhere, the reassuring flood of sunshine. If the air had not been so stuffy, Bernice might almost have believed the illusion.
‘Why do you do all this?’ she asked as De Hooch led the way.
‘All what?’ spat the dwarf.
Bernice gestured with her free hand. ‘All this. It’s pretty impressive. What’s it for?’
‘I don’t have to explain myself to you, or your reptile associates.’
Bernice pushed the blaster into the folds of fat around De Hooch’s neck. ‘Those are my friends you’re insulting. And I’m the one with the gun, so start explaining.’
De Hooch reluctantly gave them a potted history of the Chapter’s exploits and dubious motivation.
‘But you’re not the Keth?’ queried Grek.
De Hooch frowned. ‘The what?’
Liso waved Grek into silence, his solitary eye fixed on De Hooch’s diminutive form. ‘Never mind. Why did you come here?’
‘I’ve told you. To convert you heathens to the true faith through the trial of fire and pain.’
Imalgahite’s face darkened. ‘And for that you destroy our entire civilization?’
‘Life’s a bitch,’ said the dwarf with a grisly smile.
Imalgahite lunged for him but Bernice held him back. ‘No. Come on. Let’s get on. There isn’t time.’
‘There never is, my dear,’ said Yong as he stepped into the corridor from his quarters.
Half a dozen Chaptermen appeared behind the little group, bringing their blasters to bear. The Betrushians sagged with disappointment.
De Hooch struggled out of Bernice’s grip. Yong glared down his nose at the scuttling little man.
‘Really, Parva. You’re beginning to make a habit of this.’
* * *
Miller’s men had fled through the jungle at the first sight of the terrifying yellow ooze. Two of them reached the perimeter of the jungle and scrambled over the heat‐compressed mud towards the black ships.
Gasping, they slid down against the hull, chests heaving with the effort.
Martino emerged from around the bulkhead. ‘Where is Chapterman Miller? What’s happened?’
The two men shook their heads breathlessly, their eyes rolling in fear. Martino slapped them about the face but they remained hysterical.
He looked about uneasily in the humid darkness. The light from the distant fires seemed scarcely to penetrate this far. But if orders had been followed properly then the whole jungle should, by now, be