Doctor Who_ Storm Harvest - Mike Tucker [22]
R’tk’tk suddenly popped up out of the airlock, sending water sloshing across the floor.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please take your seats and strap yourselves in, we will be leaving shortly.’
Ace looked around. To her dismay the only free seat was alongside Bryce. Most of the other passengers were human, but the two rear seats housed a couple of the octopoid aliens that the Doctor had told her were from Alpha Centauri.
The two aliens were chattering excitedly in shrill, squeaky tones, trying to ignore Bryce who frequently interrupted with fascinating facts about Coralee.
Rajiid clambered down the ladder behind Ace. ‘Put the headphones 40
on,’ he whispered. ‘That way you get R’tk’tk’s commentary instead of Edwin’s version.’
He winked at her and pulled the heavy hatch closed. Ace slid into her seat, watching the Indian as he clambered into the pilot’s position.
Ace could see Bryce turning to talk to her. Quickly she clicked her harness home and pulled the headset from the back of the seat in front of her, slipping it over her ears. Bryce mouthed something at her but she shook her head and pointed at her headphones. There was a slight vibration and Ace pressed her nose to the window as the sub spiralled away from the jetty and into the depths of the ocean.
The Doctor stared up at the buildings that surrounded the elegant square on three sides, dominating the colony. They looked just like the hotels which dotted the island; the same bland, welcoming architecture.
Only a few discreet signs gave them away: Central Administration –
Coralee; Soames Institute for Historic-Scientific Research; Coralee Medi-Centre. Evidently nothing here was allowed to disturb the languid-yet-exhilarating, tropical-yet-tame ambience of the island.
He had already identified the window of the control centre and peered at it through his opera glasses. Now his problem was how to get past the security guard who sat hunched behind his desk, sweltering in his uniform.
A small tabby cat that had been sunning itself on the wall when the Doctor arrived was now curling its way between his legs, purring happily. The Doctor scratched its head idly
‘Now how am I going to get in there, hmm?’
He patted his pockets and pulled out his UNIT pass. It wasn’t going to be much use to him here, but at least it had a photo of his current incarnation on it; something that the Brigadier had insisted on.
A noise from the other side of the square made him look up. A tubby, middle-aged man in a shabby cotton jacket and straw hat was making his way past the fountain, scrabbling in a heavy leather bag.
Papers and folders were hauled out as the man searched for something.
‘For God’s sake! Where is the blasted thing?’
The man stopped and squashed a pair of half-moon glasses on to his nose. With a cry of triumph he held a small plastic card aloft, clamped it between his teeth and resumed his journey across the square, trying to push the assorted folders and documents back into his bag.
The Doctor looked from the man to the door of the admin building and back again. If he timed this just right...
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small clockwork mouse.
He wound it up and waggled it at the cat. ‘Nice kitty.’
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The cat looked at him expectantly. The Doctor placed the mouse on the floor, did a quick calculation, and let it go. Mouse and cat raced across the square, the clockwork motor whirring furiously. The man barely had time to register the noise before the cat thundered between his legs, batting gleefully at its new toy.
With a loud thump and muffled obscenities the man crashed to the dusty ground, papers scattering everywhere as his bag split open.
The Doctor was at his side in a moment. ‘Are you all right?’ He hauled the man upright and began dusting him down with a small clothes brush.
‘Yes. Yes I’m fine, thank you. Blasted animal.’ He scrabbled for his spectacles.
The Doctor scurried around the square, plucking papers from the ground and piling them