Doctor Who_ St. Anthony's Fire - Mark Gatiss [90]
He flourished his cloak around him, his magnificent torso glinting mustard‐yellow in the lurid light of the viewing screen.
De Hooch gave a horrible little chuckle. ‘Have you quite finished?’ He pointed the blaster defiantly at Yong’s head. The Magna looked about desperately. Nobody seemed inclined to move.
‘My hour has come,’ intoned De Hooch in a dream‐like voice. ‘The burden of command passes to wiser shoulders.’
‘How right you are,’ said Bernice as she stepped onto the bridge, levelling her own weapon at the dwarf.
‘Oh, not again,’ said De Hooch, crushed.
Yong whirled round as Grek, Liso, Imalgahite and the remains of the Betrushian forces filed onto the bridge, brandishing their purloined blasters.
Bernice walked carefully into the centre of the room, keeping her gun levelled. She looked down at the anxious helmsman. ‘Give me a front view from the ship,’ she snapped.
The helmsman’s hands flicked on the screen.
Betrushia’s last dawn was beginning. The jungle was thrashing from side to side as the ground rumbled and shook beneath it. The sky was thick and yellow. Bernice gave it a cursory glance and then sat down on the edge of the console. ‘Right boys. For once, I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.’
* * *
Ace found herself in the all‐too familiar position of running after the Doctor, demanding answers and getting none.
They hared back through the shuddering tunnels and the Doctor had one foot on the rung of the ladder before Ace got him to stop.
‘Hang on! Doctor!’
‘What? What?’ His eyes flickered feverishly from side to side.
‘Would you mind telling me what happened inside the furry dice?’
‘No time. It’s too important.’
He clambered up the ladder. She looked worriedly at the shaking walls. The bare boards were cracking, releasing torrents of mud into the tunnels. ‘What’s too important?’
‘Come on, Ace. We’ve got to get back to their ship. It might be our only chance. I need to know anything you can tell me about the layout.’
They scrambled to the blasted surface. Ace felt her feet submerge in the thick black mud of the battlefield. ‘What, the seminary?’ she howled above the din.
The Doctor waved his hand. ‘No, no. The real ship. Especially the artificial sun. In detail. Detail is important.’
Ace shrugged as they set off towards the trembling jungle perimeter. Lightning streaked across the sickly sky.
Ace was half‐way through an account of her journey to the power room when she noticed something.
‘Doctor,’ she said quietly.
Rather to her surprise, perhaps because of the tone of her voice, he stopped and looked.
The yellow ooze seemed to be coalescing, fragments of cloud tumbling together into a tremendous, boiling whirlwind.
The Doctor’s face turned as pale as his ruined suit.
* * *
Ran slipped quietly through the darkened corridors of the mothership. He saw scarcely anyone on his journey save for the occasional scurrying Chapterman racing through the shadows.
The bulky crystalline box in his hands was making his muscles ache but he had to plough on, had to make things safe.
He turned a corner and pressed himself flat against a wall. Ahead was a metal door with some sort of symbol embossed on it.
Ran took a deep breath and marched towards the door, the box banging against his side.
* * *
The Doctor and Ace were running at full pelt towards the mothership. Freezing rain from the rolling, shuddering sky lashed savagely at them. The great sickly whirlwind was dominating the whole sky as though the horizons were coming loose.
Ace grabbed at the Doctor’s shirt and whirled him round. ‘What is that thing?’ she screeched above the gale.
‘I’ll explain, I promise. We need to get to the ship.’
They staggered on through the cratered mud. The Doctor reached the bulkheads of the mothership and paused, gazing in undisguised horror at the sky.
They both jumped as Bernice’s voice cut in, broadcast from unseen speakers. ‘Hey, you two! Come on in. We’re on the bridge. The cavalry has taken over!’
Ace smiled delightedly. The Doctor merely