Doctor Who_ The Algebra of Ice - Lloyd Rose [74]
‘Take a look at this.’
The Doctor did. Relief almost made him tremble. The computations were nowhere near far enough along. As if he’d read the Doctor’s mind, Unwin looked shamedly at his hands.
‘Well?’ said Brett.
Trying to look unhappy, the Doctor didn’t answer.
‘Yes, that’s all very well,’ Brett said dryly. ‘But how can I be certain you’re not faking?’
‘How can you be certain either way? You could beat me to a pulp and never know whether the answers I gave you were true or not – you haven’t enough information to judge.’
‘He’s right, Sherry.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Brett said imperturbably. He yanked the Doctor’s arm up.
‘Are you sure you don’t have any friends with you?’
‘I’d know, wouldn’t I?’
‘That’s not really an answer.’
Unwin turned from the keyboard: ‘He’s all right.’
‘Yes, I just told you.’
No, thought the Doctor desperately. Not now. And not Brett. With a cry, he tried to wrench loose, grabbing with his free hand at the keyboard. Startled, Unwin pushed him away, and Brett caught him up tighter: ‘What the hell –’
‘Oh my God,’ whispered Unwin. He was staring at the equations. He scrolled down, then back, unbelievingly. ‘It’s here. This is it, Sherry! This is what it should be. I couldn’t get here, but somehow –’
‘Save it!’ Brett roared.
‘But what –’
Brett threw down the Doctor, put a foot on his back, and leaned past Unwin to hit Save. The Doctor’s writhing almost tipped him over. Unwin flinched back: ‘What’s happening?’
‘I don’t know,’ Brett hissed, ‘but I like it.’ He stomped hard on the Doctor.
‘Stay still, you little bastard. It’s too late.’
The Doctor grabbed a leg of Unwin’s chair and pulled himself toward it, trying to throw Brett off balance. Brett stepped on his neck. The Doctor tugged helplessly at the chair leg. He heard the click of the eject button, the hiss of the disk sliding out, then Brett was down close to him. ‘You’re the stable point, aren’t you?’ he grinned, and jammed the disk into the Doctor’s rear pocket. The Chapter Eighteen
153
Doctor squirmed frantically. ‘No, don’t get up.’ Brett put a knee in the small of his back. ‘Let’s wait this out.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Unwin was pressed back in the chair, gaping at them. ‘What’s. . . How did. . . ’
‘Oh, do shut up, Pat. We just had a little time miracle, that’s all.’
‘He’s all right,’ said Unwin in surprise.
The Doctor groaned and smashed his fist against the floor. ‘What’s my line now?’ Brett mused. ‘Oh yes – “He’s a sturdy chap”.’
‘What are you talking about? Why is he on the floor?’
‘Look at the numbers,’ Brett ordered, rising and dragging the Doctor up by the back of his collar.
Unwin looked. ‘They’re just as always.’
Brett extracted the disk from the Doctor’s pocket. ‘Try this.’ The Doctor made another lunge, but Brett pulled him away from the computer and looped an arm around his neck. Unwin shoved in the disk and opened the file. ‘Oh my God,’ he breathed.
‘All as it should be?’
‘So beautiful,’ Unwin whispered. ‘So perfect. Stop!’ He leaped to his feet.
‘What are you doing?’ Brett had jerked off the Doctor’s tie and twisted it against his throat. ‘Don’t kill him!’
‘He’s no further use.’
‘You don’t know that!’ Unwin shouted. The Doctor tried to give him an encouraging nod. ‘We’re still in unknown territory – we might need him.’
Brett loosened the tie. ‘Are there going to be any more time slips?’ he said in the Doctor’s ear.
‘Oh, really, as if I’d tell you.’ The Doctor gulped for breath. ‘But I don’t know.’
‘Don’t you?’
‘No. This is a new one to me. I always like it when that happens. It’s so rare.
Grk.’
Brett had choked him again, though only enough to keep him quiet.
‘For God’s sake, leave him alone! You know I’m right, Sherry.’
‘For once,’ Brett admitted grudgingly. ‘Go over those numbers.’
He took back his disk, hauled the Doctor back to the little bedroom and cuffed him to the head rail again. The Doctor lay back, eyes shut in either pain or despair.
‘Check and mate,’ said Brett. ‘What happened back there?’