Doctor Who_ Storm Harvest - Mike Tucker [46]
‘Doctor...’
Something was happening to the Krill. It was changing. Its skin was thickening. It was becoming coated in some kind of hard, shiny casing.
‘Incredible,’ said the Doctor. ‘Even now there are residual signs of life... Good grief! I understand. When its life is almost extinguished it can return to its larval state. Presumably to heal itself. It’s glanding some substance which re-creates its cocoon. It can return to its gestation – the egg stage – and start again.’
He reached into the creature, pulling at strange, unfamiliar organs.
The black mucus of the shell was beginning to harden.
With a sharp twist of his hand the Doctor pulled a thick twitching bundle of fibrous tissue from the creature’s ribcage. The knife flashed and the tissue was severed from the spine. At once the black slime lost its form and slid down on to the floor of the lab.
‘That ought to take care of it,’ he said, lowering the knife. ‘I’m sorry about the mess.
He crossed the lab to the sink and washed his hands.
‘There’s nothing more I can do here, he said. ‘I need to think. Good day’
He squashed his hat on to his head, then raised it to the assembled company.
‘You can’t just leave,’ Garrett protested, placing himself between the Doctor and the door. ‘You’re the only one who knows anything about what’s happening here.
Ace tensed.
‘Oh, I’ll be in touch, of course,’ said the Doctor. ‘I’ll keep you up to date with any developments. Through the proper channels, of course.’
‘That’s me,’ said Brenda.
‘Quite,’ said the Doctor, smiling broadly at her. ‘Get out of the way, please, Mr Garrett.
‘You don’t trust him, do you, Doctor?’ said Ace. ‘Neither do I.’
The Doctor was striding across the square, scowling furiously. Ace trotted alongside him. Rajiid brought up the rear.
88
‘He’s terribly interested in administrative matters, for an engineer,’
said the Doctor. ‘No, I don’t trust him. But unfortunately he has the weapon, and now he has the Krill.’
‘That big cylinder thing? The police took it,’ said Ace.
‘I think it amounts to the same thing,’ the Doctor replied. ‘That policeman wouldn’t recognise a million-year-old biogenic weapon if it was fired at his mother. He knew what he was looking for. He was tipped off.’
‘By Garrett.’
‘Indeed. As for our other dead alien, heaven only knows where he’s got to. If I had a suspicious mind, I would suspect that Garrett has him, too, though I can’t think why.’
He stopped, and let out a heavy breath.
‘Garrett holds all the aces at the moment.’ He smiled tenderly at his companion. ‘Except one. Tell me, Ace, did you have any luck with our friend Edwin Bryce?’
‘I lost him,’ Ace replied bitterly. ‘I followed him to a brothel, and the police raided the place. They took him away. They said someone wanted to talk to him.’
‘Garrett,’ said the Doctor.
‘What about Brenda?’ Ace asked.
‘Whatever Garrett’s up to, he’s acting without the knowledge of Miss Mulholland,’ said the Doctor. ‘He has no official civic authority.
Miss Mulholland’s the colony co-ordinator. I imagine if she was involved with Garrett we’d be in police custody by now. Helping them with their inquiries.’
‘So what do we do now?’
The Doctor pulled the alien data-pad from his pocket.
‘We still have this,’ he said.
‘Yeah, but that’s locked.’
‘Yes, and the key eludes me. And then there’s Edwin Bryce.’ He scanned the bright metal-and-stone holidayscape. ‘I’m going to find him. There can’t be that many bars on Coralee. Wait for me at the hotel.’ Smiling, he tousled her hair. ‘This hasn’t turned out to be much of a holiday, has it?’ he said apologetically.
Ace grinned. ‘It’s wicked, Professor,’ she said.
The Doctor turned in the direction of the Castaway Bar. He feared he had a long night ahead of him.
The Doctor lurked unsuccessfully in six bars that night. From the Castaway he moved on to the Sailor’s Rest – the bars on these holiday worlds were monotonously themed – and then to Bernie’s Inn, 89
Christopher Columbus’s, Molly Malone’s and the Happy Alcoholic.