Doctor Who_ Storm Harvest - Mike Tucker [14]
He knew how to buy silence, if not love or loyalty.
Roz returned to the damaged power coupling, grinding her teeth in anger. She’d been one of the recipients of Garrett’s latest round of bonuses, mouthing her thanks with all the others. It wasn’t that the money wasn’t useful – far from it – it was just the principle of the thing. She jabbed angrily at the fused relay. Still, with any luck she wouldn’t have to put up with the man for too much longer. Holly Relf was on the planet and Roz had already made it plain to her that she was willing to jump ship. As soon as Holly got back from her assignment...
The light slipped from Roz’s headband again, rolling down the access conduit.
‘Goddamn it!’
Roz hurled the sonic probe away in disgust and sat back heavily, eyes closed, trying to relax. She breathed deeply, and tried to consider the cool dark as beneficial. What did she want to be up top for? It was too hot, too crowded; people crammed into shops, into bars, having nice cool drinks...
Her daydream was interrupted by a muffled thump further down the access corridor. She looked up in time to see a shadow flicker over the far wall.
‘Hello?’
She peered into the darkness. There was nothing. But she was sure she had seen movement. She reached down for her fallen torch.
There was another thump. She flashed the light down the corridor, clambering to her feet. ‘Jarrel, is that you?’
There were definite scufflings now There shouldn’t be anyone down here except the engineering detail – her and Jarrel – and he’d gone off shift hours ago. She began to back towards her tool kit. There was a large wrench poking out of the top and, however stupid she might feel afterwards, at the moment it was the best weapon she had.
She thought she could see movement in the shadows. Was that a person? It seemed too big, too bulky. There was a smell, musky and harsh, and a ragged, rhythmic, breathy sound. She brought the torch beam up, and screamed.
26
Chapter Four
The Doctor strode across the foyer of the hotel and took great delight in pressing the old-fashioned bell that sat on the reception desk. A tall, thin robot unfolded itself from underneath the desk.
‘GOOD AFTERNOON, SIR. HOW MAY I HELP?’
The Doctor raised his hat. ‘I’d like to book two rooms please, one for myself and one for my friend.’ He waved Ace over.
The robot swivelled to look at her then swung back to the Doctor.
‘CERTAINLY, SIR. WILL YOU BE STAYING LONG?’
The Doctor waved airily. ‘Oh, a couple of days.’
The robot chittered to itself for a moment, then slid a large book over the desk.
‘WE HAVE TWO ROOMS ON THE ELEVENTH FLOOR. IF
YOU WOULD SIGN THE GUEST BOOK...’
The Doctor signed with an elaborate flourish and passed the book over to Ace.
‘HOW WILL YOU BE SETTLING YOUR BILL? WE ACCEPT
MOST RECOGNISED FORMS OF CURRENCY.’
The Doctor rummaged in his pocket and pulled out what looked like a small metallic scarab beetle. ‘Will this do?’
The robot bleeped happily. ‘THAT WILL DO NICELY, SIR.’
It whirred across to a complex terminal. The Doctor placed the
‘beetle’ on the desk. As Ace watched it sprouted tiny legs and scuttled over to the terminal, clambering up it and settling into a little recess.
The computer hummed into life and figures flashed across a screen.
Tiny lights flickered over the back of the ‘beetle’, then it disconnected itself, scuffled across the desk and hopped back into the Doctor’s hand.
The robot nodded towards the lifts.
‘YOUR ROOMS ARE THAT WAY. THE SERVICE ROBOTS
WILL BE HAPPY TO TAKE YOUR LUGGAGE. HERE ARE
YOUR DOOR ENTRY CODERS. ENJOY YOUR STAY AT THE
CORALEE HILTON.’
‘Thank you.’
The Doctor took the offered plastic cards, raised his hat once more 27
and turned towards the lifts. Two spider-like robots scurried over and the Doctor placed his Gladstone bag on the back of one of them.
Ace eyed the other spider nervously. ‘I hope they don’t expect a tip.’
‘All paid for.