Doctor Who_ The Algebra of Ice - Lloyd Rose [93]
Molecross had gone away again. Now he returned with a dish cloth for Ethan to wipe his face. ‘What happened, anyway?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘Not really. I mean, it’s clear what happened to you, but I don’t understand why Brett is dead. He hit the stove and it killed him?’
‘He hit the stove and it killed him.’
‘Oh. . . The body is, erm, strange. Perhaps you should look at it.’
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‘I’m not interested in the body.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
But of course, the Doctor was. He arrived and sent Molecross packing on some errand. Ace wasn’t with him, to Ethan’s relief: he didn’t want to be sympa-thised with and fussed over. And he wasn’t. The Doctor examined his back, pronounced it not bad, and went straight to the stove. ‘Hm,’ he said. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘I don’t quite know. Something, or a bit of something, did make it through and attached itself to Brett. The heat of the stove was too much for them both.’
‘Mm,’ said the Doctor again, and tapped his chin with his umbrella handle.
‘That would explain things.’
‘What things?’
‘Are you certain it’s dead? Didn’t it try to flee to you?’
‘Brett tried to get it to earlier. But it wouldn’t.’
‘Wouldn’t?’ The Doctor blinked at him.
‘I. . . It’s hard to explain. It’s as if something in me repelled it.’
‘Ah.’ The Doctor turned quickly away. ‘The corpse has crystallised.’
‘It’s not ice, is it? Melting.’
‘No, not like the Wicked Witch. Crystallised and dry. Freeze-dried,’ the Doctor said quietly. ‘The fate he had in mind for the Earth. Not to mention everything else.’
Ethan propped up on his elbows. ‘Why did he do it? It’s completely –’
‘Mad?’
‘– irrational. Who was he, anyway? Did anyone ever find out?’ The Doctor shrugged. ‘Only child. Wealthy family; good education; no history of hardship; no history of psychological disorder. He was married once.’
‘You’re taking the piss.’
‘No, he really was. She drowned. Rumour had it he was involved. But rumour is always nasty.’
‘What did he study, up at – Oxford or Cambridge?’
‘Oxford. He only just managed a third in Philosophy.’
‘Oh good. More irony.’
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‘It does seem to be one of the universal constants. Though generally in better proportion to events.’
‘I suppose he was mad, in some sense.’
‘Yes, I daresay it’s possible to be morally insane. Goodness knows I’ve met enough examples to convince me.’
‘You’ve had a very interesting life,’ said Ethan. He meant for it to come out as sarcasm, but somehow it didn’t.
‘Yes I have. Long and interesting. Interesting and long.’ The Doctor remained preoccupied with what was left of Brett.
‘And does everyone who’s involved with you get knocked about?’
‘I get knocked about myself. Rather badly, sometimes. That’s when I change.’
‘Get a new body?’
‘More like dying and returning in a different body.’
Ethan went quiet for a few minutes. ‘You were right about killing me, you know. It was a near thing with Brett.’
‘No,’ said the Doctor sharply. ‘I was not right. At the end of the day, did you help him? No. Nothing is predictable. Chance rolls us like dice. I, of all people, should know that.’
‘I have to give you credit, Molecross,’ Ace said. ‘You get more things right than not, and when you do, they’re really right.’
Ethan nodded, agreeing. They were in the fire-lit sitting room of the Doctor’s house. Ethan was drinking Scotch and Ace beer. Molecross had a glass of orange juice. He looked shyly pleased at the compliment.
Ace hadn’t fussed, though she was clearly upset, and Ethan was grateful to her. She had, however, insisted on hearing the details of Brett’s demise. They weren’t gory enough for her.
‘He deserved worse.’
‘It was bad,’ Molecross assured her. ‘He was all in flakes.’
‘Hm. Well, that’s all right then, I suppose.’
‘Glad you approve,’ Ethan noted dryly. ‘Do you run into this sort of thing often?’
‘Bastards like him? He’s a top boy. Mostly it’s monsters