Doctor Who_ The Algebra of Ice - Lloyd Rose [101]
‘Here’s something odd,’ said Ethan.
‘You mean the rest of it isn’t odd?’
Ethan had made some sense of the manual and managed to call up a map of the TARDIS’s systems, with links to explications of each operation. ‘There’s an indication that energy was timed to be released but wasn’t. Something called Artron energy.’
‘Does that do us any good?’
‘Not directly. In fact,’ Ethan admitted disconsolately, ‘not at all.’
‘I need some tea,’ said Molecross. ‘You’re all right on your own. I’ll make tea.’
‘Fine.’
Ethan raced through the links. Many of the TARDIS functions weren’t computerised – the best security system possible. The door lever, for example, was a completely mechanical device. Surely there were others. But where, and what did they do?
He had finally been able to locate Brett (he was unable to think of the program as merely a worm). The on-screen image resembled a defragging operation, only there was no way to turn it off. Ethan had tried to get ahead of the worm and block it and get behind it and repair its damage, but failed at both.
The operation was, of course, impossible on an Earth computer, but he’d hoped it might be doable with a system this advanced. If it was, he wasn’t the man to work out how.
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As far as he could tell, Brett was going through the simplest operations first, working his way in deeper and deeper. He was going to make every single file accessible to his masters, or his other selves, or whoever they were. Oh God, Ethan thought, don’t panic, don’t panic.
Molecross put a cup of tea in his hand. Ethan drank without tasting it. It might indeed, as Brett had mused, take years to do the whole job, but at some point much earlier he was going to get to life support. And long before that, he’d get to things like lights – Ethan was surprised he hadn’t already. There must be an equivalent of an emergency generator. ‘Molecross, turn on one of those monitors. I’m going to send you some files to go through. See if you can find anything that might be a description of the off-line activities.’
‘Like manual override?’
‘No,’ said Ethan between his teeth.
‘That never worked anyway. I began to wonder why they even had it.’
‘Because they were on the telly! Will you shut up and get to work?’
‘I’m working. Only it helps me to talk.’
‘Talk to yourself. Silently.’
The room went quiet except for the soft hum of the console. Ethan continued to chase the worm. He felt like a greyhound trying to bring down a mechanical rabbit. Admit it, he told himself, you don’t know what you’re doing. This is so far beyond you it might as well be on another pl– well, the TARDIS is on another planet, isn’t it, or at least from one. No wonder th– Concentrate!
‘Here’s something,’ said Molecross. Ethan jumped across to see the screen.
‘It’s like one of those find-your-route programs, a map of places and how to get to them. The emergency generator thingy is in the off-line room.’
‘Oh, wonderful,’ Ethan muttered. ‘Who can make sense of it? It’s a bloody maze.’
Molecross put a finger on the screen. ‘Here’s the way to go from here.’
‘So what?’
‘Well, perhaps the TARDIS will help. Like it helps us find our way through the corridors.’
Ethan hit Print. ‘Ace was spot on,’ he admitted. ‘When you’re right, you’re really right.’
And in the event, Molecross was indeed right. For the first few turns, Ethan consulted the printed-out map, then he abandoned it. The TARDIS knew where they wanted to go and how to get them there. As it apparently shifted walls to help them, Ethan wondered whether all the rooms moved around now and 208
The Algebra of Ice
then – if the map they had now was the same as the one they’d call up a week later: ‘Isn’t this the door?’
‘I think so, but I don’t know why I think so.’
‘Looking Glass World,’ said Ethan, and opened the door. They stared at the walls of