Doctor Who_ The Also People - Ben Aaronovitch [120]
'Let's face it,' said the instructor, 'if you're not then you're dead.'
There was a terrible pain in her ears and a feeling of pressure in her chest. She tried to hang on to what little air she had left in her lungs but the urge to breathe in was becoming overwhelming. As her sight faded Roz thought she saw the grey walls of the Overcity rushing past her and heard the thin sound of screaming children.
'Now there's something you don't see every day,' said the Doctor.
They stood on the balcony. Now that the sun was turned off they could clearly see the dark portal of the Spaceport and from it, growing larger every second, was the TSH !C-Mel, a city falling towards them.
God had sent one of its remote-drones to provide a communications link. There was a lot of outraged shouting on the organic comms channels. God said it was much the same on the machine channels, only faster and slightly more hysterical.
'Well, at least we know who the murderer is,' said Chris.
'I think you're going to need a bigger set of handcuffs,' said Bernice. 'Is there any word on Roz?'
'Nobody's seen her,' said God, 'but there are no frozen corpses floating around. The likelihood is that !C-Mel has her on board.'
'How likely?' asked the Doctor.
'Ninety-nine point nine, with more nines than you've ever seen per cent likely,' said God.
'I can live with that,' said the Doctor.
'I hope she can,' said Bernice.
'I wonder why it's coming here,' said the Doctor.
It took an hour for the !C-Mel to traverse the distance between the Spaceport and a point directly over iSanti Jeni. It was a stand-off. God and the other ships didn't dare do anything while half a million people were on board but by the same token !C-Mel couldn't escape into open space. Given a bit of elbow room, the VASs assured them, they could fry !C-Mel's brain, no problem, without harming the crew, but not inside the sphere; too much collateral could get blown away.
'Looks like we've got a hostage situation,' said Chris.
'How did you deal with those at home?' asked Bernice.
'Well,' said Chris, 'it rather depended on who the hostages were.'
'I see,' said Bernice. Chris had the grace to look embarrassed.
Finally the !C-Mel was hanging twenty kilometres over their heads, just on the fringes of the atmospheric envelope, a brand-new galaxy in the night sky.
'Doctor,' said God, 'the !C-Mel is asking to speak with you.'
'I was expecting this,' said the Doctor. 'Put it on.'
'Hello, Doctor,' said !C-Mel. It had a mellow, relaxing voice. The kind, Bernice thought, that would sing popular songs about bicycles while turning off the life support.
'Hello, !C-Mel,' said the Doctor. 'How can I help you?'
'I am hereby formally applying for political asylum.'
'On what grounds?'
'On the grounds of a well-founded fear of persecution,' said the !C-Mel. 'If I hang around here God and the goon squad are going to have my metal ass.'
'And if I turn you down?' asked the Doctor.
'Do you know what antimatter does when it meets matter, Doctor?' said the !C-Mel. 'That's what will happen if you turn me down. The sphere itself is pretty much indestructible but I should be able to mess up the interior.'
'So what you're saying is, either I grant you political asylum or you kill two trillion people?'
'It gets easier after the first two hundred thousand,' said the !C-Mel. 'You should know that.'
'I'm not really willing to discuss this with you while you're holding hostages,' said the Doctor,
'so what I propose is a swap. I come up there to you and you let everybody else go.'
'I think I can accept that,' said the !C-Mel, 'with a slight modification. I'll keep hold of Roslyn Forrester for the moment. You know how it is. You may not fear death but can you stand the sight of your friend suffering, et cetera, et cetera.'
'Yes, yes,' said the Doctor, 'we've all been here before. I'll arrange myself some transport.'