Doctor Who_ The Banquo Legacy - Andy Lane [4]
‘Not you,’ the Doctor told him.
‘Dying.’ Compassion’s answer was from all around them. But it was weak, difficult, broken: ‘I – am – dying, Doctor.’ A pause, the sound of a faint sigh. Then: ‘What is happening to me?’
The Doctor was shaking his head. ‘I don’t know. An almost total loss of Artron energy.’ His face was grey, lined, as he looked at Fitz. ‘I feel it myself.’
‘It’s what you run on?’ Fitz asked in surprise.
‘In a manner of speaking. It’s a… well, a source of energy.’
‘Like sugar?’
‘Like oxygen.’
Fitz stared. Gaped. ‘You’re dying?’ His voice was a whisper.
The Doctor shook his head. ‘Oh no. Well, not yet. But I couldn’t regenerate, which is something of a worry.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Fitz muttered. ‘And Compassion?’ he asked more loudly.
The Doctor was edging round the console, checking controls and stabbing ineffectively at buttons. ‘It’s everything to her. There’s some sort of inhibitor in operation nearby. Locked on to us as we started to materialise.’
‘The – Time – Lords,’ Compassion’s voice gasped.
‘Is it?’
The Doctor tapped his chin. ‘Could be. Could be,’ he conceded. ‘I don’t know how they could have found us, could have predicted we would be here, wherever here is. But it’s a deliberate attack, I’m sure.’
‘Help me, Doctor.’ Above them, Compassion’s face washed hazily into view on the scanner, distorted by the weakness of the image. And by pain. ‘There is a transtemporal emission. I’m blocking it.’ Every word was an effort now.
‘What’s that in human-speak?’
‘The Time Lords,’ the Doctor said. His fist slammed down on the console. ‘Or some agent of theirs. Sending a message to Gallifrey, telling them where and when we are.’
‘But if Compassion is blocking it…’
‘For the moment. She’s getting weaker by the second.’
‘Stabilised now.’ Her voice was still drained. ‘But won’t last. Blocking the signal for as long as I can.’
‘While we find the inhibitor,’ the Doctor said. His frown deepened suddenly. ‘How did you manage that?’ His hands flew over the controls and a stream of text and symbols spewed across Compassion’s face above them. ‘I see. Very clever.’ There was pride as well as admiration in his voice, as if he reckoned he deserved some of the credit.
Well, Fitz thought, he probably did. Whatever it was for. ‘And for the hard of deciphering?’ he prompted.
‘We were plucked out of the vortex and materialised in midair. Thrown across the sky like a comet.’ Sudden levity now as the Doctor considered. ‘Probably very spectacular.’
‘Yes, I felt that bit,’ Fitz agreed.
‘But Compassion has managed to latch on to a local host for her outer plasmic shell. Something approximating her natural appearance that can provide a surrogate shell until we disable the inhibitor. Gives her stability and us time.’
‘Neat,’ Fitz said. ‘I assume.’
The Doctor was nodding in appreciation. ‘Oh yes, very neat. Now we need to get out of here before we’re trapped inside. As she loses more power, Compassion will lose her ability to create a portal through the shell.’
Fitz thought about this as the Doctor buttoned his coat. ‘So,’ he said slowly, ‘given the choice, we’re going to get ourselves trapped outside instead of inside. Right?’
‘Right,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘In the snow.’
‘In the snow.’ Fitz considered this. ‘With a Time Lord agent.’
‘Very probably.’
‘Who has immense powers and is waiting for us out there in the cold.’
The Doctor sucked in his cheeks, then blew out a long breath. ‘I don’t think he’ll be that powerful,’ he said at last. ‘After all, his own Artron energy will be inhibited too. It’s an all-or‐nothing deal.’ He frowned. ‘I imagine.’
Fitz rubbed his eyes. It didn’t really help. ‘And we are, where? When?’
‘Earth,’ Compassion said. But her voice was not her own. It was softer, gentler somehow. ‘England. Late nineteenth century.’
The Doctor rubbed his hands together in a gleeful gesture that was belied by his sombre expression. ‘Quite my favourite time and place,’ he said. ‘Given the choice, if I had to be trapped in one time and place –’
‘Then I’d choose about a hundred years from now,’ Fitz interrupted.