Doctor Who_ The Algebra of Ice - Lloyd Rose [72]
HE MAY BE OF USE
NO RISK KILL HIM
FIRST LET ME QUESTION HIM
DANGEROUS
YOU SAID
DESTROYER OF WORLDS
‘What?’ Brett said aloud. Quickly he typed: ELABORATE
DESTROYER OF WORLDS SKARO
WHAT IS SKARO?
HE DESTROYED IT
Brett hadn’t actually managed to beat the Doctor unconscious, but he had put him in a somewhat confused state in relation to events around him. Conse-quently, when he became more clearheaded and found that he was only cuffed to a bed by one wrist and could stretch out easily and even sit up with both feet on the floor, he was greatly relieved. His jacket was missing, but his hat, he saw happily, hung on the bed post. On the bedside table sat a bowl of water and a hand towel; the Doctor wet the towel and wiped his face. The cloth came away red.
He looked around for his jacket. It was flung over the seat of a chair. Scattered on it were objects from his pockets – his yo-yo, a Wodehouse paperback, a pair of spoons, something the Doctor couldn’t identify. Brett must have done a quick search for a weapon, which of course he wouldn’t find. Or wouldn’t know he’d found – he’d hardly think twice about a penlight.
The Doctor eyed the chair with frustration. It was about six feet away, which might as well have been a mile. As he was reviewing the logistics of the situation, the door opened and Brett came in. ‘With us again. How are you feeling?’
‘Surprisingly comfortable.’
‘I see Mr Amberglass has been talking to you about my hospitality.’ Brett took a chair and turned it around, then sat, arms folded along the back. ‘You’re Chapter Eighteen
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an entirely different case. I don’t think trying to soften you up would be very effective. I wouldn’t mind seeing young Amberglass again. I don’t suppose he’s with you.’
The Doctor sniffed. ‘Drag a human along with me? I have too much to do.’
‘Ah yes, you’re not human. What are you?’
‘I’m from Gallifrey. Ever heard of it?’
‘No.’
‘Well, there you are. It’s a lot like here. Mountains, valleys, oceans, trees, carbon-based life forms – which our would-be visitors aren’t, I gather.’
‘Nice segue,’ said Brett. ‘No, they’re not. They want you dead, you know.’
The Doctor nodded. ‘It is the usual thing.’
‘They say you’re dangerous.’
‘Goodness.’ The Doctor adjusted his expression to its most inoffensive mode.
‘Do they really?’
Brett ran a sceptical eye over him. The Doctor straightened his tie, aware that, what with the blood, he wasn’t looking his best.
‘l admit you don’t look it.’
The Doctor smiled modestly.
‘They also call you Destroyer of Worlds, which fits even less well with your appearance.’
‘Well,’ said the Doctor, ‘that one happens to be true.’
Brett paused with his cigarette halfway to his lips. The Doctor was willing to bet it was the only time in his life he’d ever looked shaken. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I blew up a planet. Well, technically speaking, I blew up a star, which burned the planet out of existence. And to be perfectly accurate, I didn’t do the blowing-up – I manipulated someone else into it. Still, I have to take responsibility.’
Brett still hadn’t quite pulled himself together. ‘Why?’
‘Very nasty civilisation. Wanted to take over the universe. Killed several billions trying. It was time for them to go.’ The Doctor looked at the floor. ‘Yes,’
he said, as if to himself, ‘it was time.’
‘How in hell did you manipulate someone into exploding a star?’
‘Oh, you know. The old don’t-throw-me-in-that-brierpatch routine. Don’t push that button, don’t push that button, oh please please please don’t push that button.’ The Doctor shrugged. ‘So naturally he pushed it.’
‘And this was deliberate on your part?’
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The Algebra of Ice
The Doctor raised his eyes to meet Brett’s. ‘Oh yes,’ he said quietly. ‘Quite deliberate.’
Brett drew on his cigarette and exhaled the smoke slowly. ‘Perhaps I should kill you.’
‘Why haven’t you?’
‘Curiosity. Wondering if you might be of some help.’
‘No,’ said the Doctor.
Brett smiled. The Doctor had seen a lot of bad smiles in his life,