Doctor Who_ St. Anthony's Fire - Mark Gatiss [88]
She nodded to herself, satisfied, and stepped out into the corridor. All the time she had lain on the table, the image of Porsim in flames had dominated her thoughts. Setting the blaster to maximum force, Bernice set out for a little retribution.
* * *
The polygon was vibrating gently, the recessed instrumentation which packed its innards humming with long‐dormant power as though it were relieved to be finally giving up its secrets.
The vibration of the now‐continuous earth tremors blended with the shuddering of the black console at the Doctors feet.
Colours flashed over his still features. He could feel the chair cocooning him, willing him to become part of the information the polygon was relaying.
The Doctor’s hands clenched into fists as the spool of data spilled out its story.
As images scrolled over the wall, he began to slowly shake his head.
* * *
Yong swept onto the bridge and was immediately surrounded by fawning Chaptermen, their hands full of densely printed scrolls. Yong waved them away.
‘Why was I summoned?’ he snapped.
One of the helmsmen tapped the screen in front of him. ‘There’s something out there, my Lord.’
The great, round central screen darkened and began to fill with pixellated images. Information scrolled up and down the screen.
‘We can’t make out anything definite, Magna, but it’s heading this way.’
Yong rolled his eyes. ‘What is?’
The helmsman pressed a button at his side and the screen cleared to reveal the view in front of the ship. The night sky was illuminated by the blazing jungle and the top corner by a hint of the rings. But Yong’s attention was arrested by something quite different.
Dominating the horizon, its dimensions swollen to colossal size, was the twisting, yellow ooze. It was tearing through the jungle, funnelling the flaming trees into its core, seemingly digesting the fire as it went. It stood out against the night sky like a vast yellow flame.
Yong’s jaw literally dropped open. ‘What… is… that?’
The helmsman shrugged helplessly.
‘Magnify,’ croaked Yong.
The image expanded until it filled the screen: a livid, boiling mass of putrescent yellow.
For the first time in his life, Yong could think of nothing to say. He sank down into his chair and waved his hand towards the Chaptermen. The image vanished and the bridge fell into a kind of blank silence.
Eventually, Yong looked down at the scrolls piled on his chair and glanced across the bridge. ‘Progress report,’ he whispered.
A nervous Chapterman Jones hovered at his side. ‘We’ve had no word from Miller or Martino, my Lord. I dispatched them on conflagration duty some time ago.’
‘Then where are they?’
Jones’s face crumpled disconsolately. ‘I cannot say, Magna. Perhaps that… thing…’
Yong’s face filled with a disquieting radiance. ‘Never mind that, Jones. Never mind that. I will not be distracted from my goal. Saint Anthony will not be cheated of his prize. Where is Parva De Hooch?’
Jones shifted his weight. ‘No one has seen him either.’
Yong seemed not to be listening. ‘Well… you carry on, Jones.’
‘Yes, Magna.’ Jones shot Yong a quizzical look and exited from the bridge, the iris clanking closed behind him.
Yong stood up. ‘Screen,’ he ordered.
The helmsman switched on the main screen and the room was once again bathed in the sickly light of the twister as it rampaged through the jungle. Yong gazed at it in awe.
* * *
Ace examined her face in the polished surface of the blaster. It made her features balloon comically but she looked passable enough.
The shaven head she could get used to, she decided, and the bruises would heal. Most importantly, the eyes which glared back at her were her own eyes, with her own thoughts behind them.
Something felt different, though. Something inside her. Right now she should be burning with justifiable rage, with an unquenchable desire for revenge. After all, the