Doctor Who_ Storm Harvest - Mike Tucker [71]
An alarm went off.
‘And I rather think that you’ve just lost your entire communication and data grid,’ said the Doctor.
Pandemonium erupted in the control centre. Technicians punched at controls, desperately trying to coax life back into dead read-outs.
Brenda stared at the Doctor incredulously for a moment, then launched herself into the mêlée.
‘Get the emergency systems online! Now!’
The Dreekan technician held out his hands hopelessly. ‘The problem’s not internal! We’re being jammed by an outside source!’
Ace sidled over to the Doctor’s side. ‘What’s going on now, Professor?’
The Doctor put a finger to his lips and pointed at the ceiling with the tip of his umbrella. The entire building shook with a shattering roar as something black and ugly thundered overhead.
‘Dear God!’
Brenda was staring out of the control room window. Ace hurried to her side.
‘Wicked!’
The huge shuttlecraft, its hull pitted and barnacled, swung low over the harbour, retros thundering. In a shower of spray it settled on to the waves. Ace clamped her hands over her ears as two more craft roared overhead.
The Doctor joined her at the window, his chin resting on the handle of his umbrella. Ace looked at him, her eyes shining? revelling in the excitement of something new ‘Who are they, Professor?’
137
The Doctor didn’t take his eyes from the sea.
‘The answer to a lot of our questions, I think.’
The Doctor sat on the edge of the fountain watching as Brenda Mulholland and a handful of colony officials pushed their way through the growing crowd that stood nervously in the shadow of one of the alien ships. This one was a slightly different design to the others; smaller, and covered with communication arrays.
A command shuttle probably, mused the Doctor. He frowned. He still hadn’t placed the species. He had pored through the notes in his diary, but notes from a thousand planets over nine hundred years, and all in seven different styles of handwriting, made it a less than efficient reference work. He sighed. ‘Perhaps I should get myself an electronic organiser,’ he murmured.
With a clatter of mechanical legs, and trailing a fine mist of water droplets, Q’ilp crossed the square and settled down beside him.
‘Any movement from our new friends yet?’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘No. No, they’re being decidedly mysterious at the moment.’
The dolphin gave a click of impatience. The shuttlecraft had stopped coming more than twenty minutes ago. Now the sea beyond the harbour wall was black with them. Q’ilp looked around the crowds, mechanical arms unwrapping another cigar.
‘Where the hell has MacKenzie got to? I thought the old git would want to be here to do his First Contact bit.’
The Doctor smiled. ‘Oh, I sent him to do a little errand for me.’
Ace looked across her hotel room at MacKenzie, who was standing on the balcony, staring down at the alien ship in the Courtyard. He was too absorbed in the new arrivals to take any interest in her. Crossing the room she pulled open the wardrobe, hauled out her rucksack and chucked it on to the bed. The Doctor wanted her to go after Garrett, and beach wear was hardly right for traipsing through thick jungle.
She kicked off her remaining trainer and slid out of her shorts.
She hauled off her T-shirt and stood in front of the full-length mirror for a moment. The fight with the Krill had given her a few more bruises to add to her collection. She flexed the muscles in her arms.
Still... the exercise was giving her a good physique.
She pulled a clean shirt over her head and struggled into a pair of jeans. She reached into the wardrobe for her jacket and her hand brushed against the soft silk of the dress she had worn in the restaurant the night they had arrived. She pulled the dress from its hanger and stood there for a moment, running the material through her fingers.
138
Such a short while ago, but already the memory of that meal was like a distant dream.