Doctor Who_ Storm Harvest - Mike Tucker [37]
MacKenzie’s laboratory.’ He slipped a small plastic card from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘This will get you in.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Ace asked sulkily
‘I’m going to find Q’ilp,’ the Doctor replied. ‘Get him to take me back to the dig, so I can have a look round without MacKenzie interfering.’
‘But it’ll be dark soon,’ protested Ace.
‘The nights are short here,’ said the Doctor. ‘Anyway, two suns.
We’ve a few hours yet.’ He rose to his feet. ‘And besides, I’ve been linked with MacKenzie. I suspect that by tomorrow the dig will be under police guard. I’ve got to get there before them.’ He tapped his lips, deep in thought. ‘I’m sure the key to this whole thing is out there.’
‘Still nothing, Sarge.’
‘Keep looking, Norris.’
The police submarine D-19 moved, sleek and near-silent, Hugh the calm ocean, its conning tower cutting the surface like a shark’s fin.
Police Sergeant Frank Sands could sense the tension in his crew. Call-outs were rare on Coralee.
‘Looking for what, Sarge?’
‘Beaker’ Norris was always asking stupid questions.
‘Anything unusual,’ Sands improvised. They hadn’t told him anything. He didn’t know why they were out there. He didn’t like it.
‘Makes a change from running in drunks,’ said Archie Bell, the navigator. ‘Nothing unusual about them.’
‘What d’you reckon, Sarge?’ Norris piped up again. ‘Some dolphin done a bank job?’
‘Just keep scanning, Norris,’ Sands said evenly
‘Sarge...’ Annie Clark, communications officer, stuck her head around the low door. ‘New orders from Central. They’re sending them straight to Navigation.’
On cue the crew felt the vessel list slightly as it changed direction.
‘I wish they wouldn’t do that,’ said Bell. ‘Navs is a skilled job. I’m damned if I’ll lose it to a machine.’
‘All right, Bell,’ said Sands.
He reached for his computer terminal. He also wished Central wouldn’t go straight to Navigation. Orders should come through him, as a matter of common sense and courtesy. Central only did this when they wanted to avoid awkward questions. When they had something to hide.
‘We’re accelerating,’ said Bell.
A low, even pulsing sound filled the sub. Sands swore under his 70
breath.
He opened a channel on the internal communicator and cleared his throat.
‘OK, you can all hear that, he said loudly. ‘Everybody to their posts.
We’ve gone to battle stations.’
He just wished he knew why.
The suns were low in the perfect sky by the time the Doctor and Q’ilp left the harbour aboard the Zodiac. The dolphin was uneasy.
‘More’n my job’s worth, this,’ it muttered as it piloted the little craft.
‘MacKenzie’ll have my skin on his office wall.’
‘InterOceanic will smooth everything out,’ said the Doctor.
The dolphin swept a mechanical tentacle across the submersible’s steering column. The engine died and the vessel glided to a halt.
‘Come off it,’ Q’ilp snapped. ‘You might fool MacKenzie with that bullshit, but not me. You’re nothing to do with InterOceanic. I used to work for them. I know how they operate.’
The Doctor sighed. ‘I’m afraid you’re right,’ he said. ‘I apologise for the deception. But something’s very wrong. I... have a nose for these things.’
‘I’m a dolphin,’ said Q’ilp drily, twitching his long snout. ‘No nose jokes, please.’
The Doctor smiled grimly. ‘No offence intended,’ he said. ‘There’s something very old and very dangerous down there. That alien was looking for it, and it killed him.’
‘So what makes you think it won’t kill us?’
The Doctor didn’t reply.
‘I see,’ said Q’ilp.
‘Please help me,’ the Doctor said quietly.
Q’ilp sighed. ‘I’m no archaeologist,’ he said. ‘I’m just MacKenzie’s runabout. I’m employed for my knowledge of the sea. I heard what R’tk’tk described, and if he’s right – I say if, because I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could walk without this thing – if he’s right, then there’s something out there which could wipe my people out.’
‘Not just your people,’ the Doctor cut in.
‘I’ve watched MacKenzie blundering about down there, and if these... things... have anything to do with the