Doctor Who_ The Algebra of Ice - Lloyd Rose [102]
‘Perhaps the TARDIS will guide us to the right machine.’
Ethan took a few steps in. ‘No, we’re on our own.’ He pushed back past Molecross. ‘I need to find a computer – get a map of this room. Wait here.’
He ran down the hall. Molecross looked around confusedly. The machinery was almost absurdly old-fashioned, with buttons and lights and metres; not even digital. Because it was easier to fix if it broke down? Because the Doctor, incredible to think, didn’t quite trust the superb technology that ran his ship?
Or did he just like to play with machines when he had an excuse? Molecross understood that. He still mourned the changeover of pinball machines from manual to digital. Something tactile had been lost.
Most of the buttons were labelled; he was no longer surprised to see they were in English. Probably everyone saw them in their own language. Not that the labels meant anything to him. He certainly wasn’t going to find one as simple as, ‘Emergency Generator, On.’ For example, this door with a small ruby-coloured window was called an ‘Artron Energy Capacitor’, whatever the hell that was. Molecross eyed the words thoughtfully. Could it have anything to do with that mysterious energy Ethan had been talking about? He peered through the window. Something like an enormous metal coil rose up out of sight; he couldn’t see it clearly through the tinted glass. How extraordinary. In spite of all the danger, how extraordinary. Aloud, he whispered sadly, ‘I don’t want to go home.’
‘Molecross!’
‘Here!’
Ethan ran up, print-out in hand. ‘What’s that?’ Molecross pointed to the sign.
Ethan read it quickly, then again, more slowly. ‘Interesting. But never mind that now. I think I’ve found what we need.’
He led Molecross to yet another panel of buttons and levers and lights. ‘It’s not even labelled,’ Molecross complained.
‘As if that would do us any good.’ Ethan adjusted his glasses and went carefully over the print-out. ‘The procedure appears straightforward enough.’
He began pushing and switching things. A little nervously, Molecross stepped back. This was the point at which, in a movie, something might accidentally blow up. He returned to the capacitor and realised that what he’d taken for a Chapter Twenty-five
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door had no handle. It was an observation window only – the actual entrance must be somewhere else. The capacitor wasn’t part of the off-line system.
The room went black.
‘Don’t panic!’ Ethan yelled. ‘It’s all right!’ With a hum, the lights came back on. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m coming.’ Molecross found Ethan leaning against the machine, grinning in relief. ‘Everything all right, then?’
‘Well, no. Brett’s still infiltrating the TARDIS. But at least we won’t suffocate in the near future.’
‘That capacitor is in a different room. I think it may be on line.’
‘Hm.’ Ethan shuffled through his print-outs. ‘On and off, apparently. The capacitor itself isn’t on line, but the controls for the energy release are. I’d like to find those. If Brett turned something off, which seems likely, then I think we ought to turn it on again.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
There was blue in the hill Ace was climbing, deep down, like the blue she’d seen in ice. This was the first nuance in the dull sameness of the landscape, and she took it as. . . well, not a bad sign.
She wanted to call for the Doctor, but that didn’t seem like a good idea.
He’d come here to meet something after all, and probably the something was still around. Unless it wasn’t. The Doctor wasn’t fool enough to rely solely on diplomacy; he always had a trick in reserve. Which was just as well since, if she understood this whole business properly, he’d be trying to talk some civilisation out of continuing to exist. Naff, really. Who’d ever agree to that? The trouble with the Doctor was, he was naive. He really thought he could reason with psychopaths. It was touching, part of the reason she loved him, but he was damn lucky to have her as a backup.
Above her, she could see what looked like a dark gash in the whiteness. A cave? Here? She started