Doctor Who_ The Algebra of Ice - Lloyd Rose [87]
‘He’s definitely at work,’ she’d told Ethan. ‘Don’t know when we’ll see him.’
Never would be soon enough, Ethan thought now, turning from the window.
The kitchen was cold. He made some tea and took it into the fire-warmed parlour. Bored and restless, Ace had headed out to the nearest Waitrose, Molecross with her. This hadn’t been Ace’s idea, but when he followed her out to the car like a hopeful dog she relented.
What the hell were they going to do about Molecross? Ethan wondered, stretching his feet out to the fire. That question kept coming up, but nothing ever was done about Molecross. He had become the lingering guest no one could quite tell to go home. Not that he had much of a home, according to Ace.
Well, let him stay here, where it was warm and he had some company.
And of course Brett was still alive. Somewhere. Defeated, to be sure – but nobody thought he was down. The Doctor was particularly nervous about his Chapter Twenty-one
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encountering Ethan again and prying knowledge from his head. Ethan wasn’t mad about the idea himself. He wanted to go back to his flat, and even in his most paranoid moments he couldn’t actually imagine Brett’s lying in wait for him there. Nonetheless, it wasn’t a good idea.
‘Hello,’ said the Doctor.
Ethan jumped. So help him, if he ever got out of this situation, he’d sit with his back to walls for the rest of his life.
‘May I join you?’ The Doctor was hatless and in his shirtsleeves, his de-meanour hesitant. Ethan made a what-the-hell gesture, and the Doctor sat in the armchair opposite. As usual, he wasn’t quite in scale with the furniture – the discrepancy made him look almost childlike. Right, Ethan thought cynically. ‘I haven’t been able to trace Brett.’
‘What will you do when you find him? Kill him too?’
‘Keeping time on course,’ snapped the Doctor. ‘What do you think it takes? A tap dance and a smile?’
‘Something with no conscience.’
A spasm of pain crossed the Doctor’s face. ‘I told you, I’m going to find another way.’
‘What else can you do?’
‘I’ll have to carry the fight to them.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
‘It was you they wanted in the first place. They tried to pull you to them. I felt it.’
The Doctor blew out air slowly, not quite a sigh. ‘ Well, you see, that’s the problem. If they want me, they probably shouldn’t have me.’
‘Is that a new hint I should off myself?’
‘No,’ the Doctor said sharply. He leaned toward the fire, and Ethan saw that his face was drawn. ‘Perhaps it was only the TARDIS they wanted,’ he muttered to himself. ‘I was only a way to the TARDIS.’
Why do I feel sympathy for this bastard? Ethan wondered furiously. Why do I want to help him? Is he hypnotising me somehow? ‘Look,’ he said, ‘take me somewhere, and leave me. Some other place or time. I don’t want to be around you.’
‘I can’t. You know too much.’
‘As if anyone would believe me.’
‘Not about me and the TARDIS. About maths. If I take you to the past, you’ll introduce knowledge that mustn’t be revealed until the next century. If I leave 180
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you in the present, Brett or the invaders may find you. I can’t leave you in the future because then there will be two of you; and I can’t take you to the future after you’re dead because you’ll be alive when you shouldn’t be.’
Ethan’s stomach went cold. He sat up. ‘I’m going to die, aren’t I?’ he whispered. ‘Soon, so it wouldn’t have mattered if you killed me. But you needed to hurry up the process – because I wasn’t meant to die until after I might have helped these aliens.’
The Doctor raised his eyes. They were so blue, blue as the sky. Fly away in them, Ethan thought dizzily. Fly free, fly forever. ‘No,’ the Doctor said. ‘You weren’t meant to die soon, and you aren’t going to. You only die if they get through. Along with everyone else.’
‘Even you?’
‘No,’ said the Doctor, a trace of self-disgust in his voice. ‘Not me. I’ll just pop into the past and start trying to fix the disaster from there. If that can be done.
Ace will be all right too,’ he added.
‘Ace,