Doctor Who_ The Hollow Men - Keith Topping [47]
„Nick?‟ interjected Hatch. „Do shut up.‟ He took another sip of whisky. „How soon until we‟re ready to go? That‟s what I need to know.‟
„Soon,‟ said Bevan.
„It‟s always “soon”,‟
„We‟ve come a long way.‟
Hatch snorted. „I should think so: five years and getting on for two million quid.‟
„Which reminds me...‟ said Bevan in a quiet voice.
Hatch stood, patting his pockets. He brought out a padded envelope, and tossed it on to Bevan‟s desk. „There‟s eight thousand there,‟ he said. „I can get more if you need it, but you‟ll have to give me a week or two. I‟ve got a few monkeys on my back at the moment.‟
„Yes,‟ said Bevan, „I listened to the debate today. They‟re really after you this time, Matthew.‟
„Well, I won‟t give them a chance to get me, will I? Anything else you need?‟
„The usual,‟ said Bevan. „Somebody from Hexen Bridge who‟s not sterile. Preferably female, because if the insemination technique works then it‟s safe to assume we can synthesise the actual sperm components. You got any strapping young Hexen lasses hidden about your person?‟
„What would you say if I were to tell you I could supply one?‟
Bevan was taken aback. He‟d been looking for a live donor for some months, but Hatch had always resisted, citing family and other ties to most of the suitable candidates. „In the age range? Fifteen to twenty-nine?‟
„Just,‟ said Hatch.
„Then, I‟d ask if you consider her expendable. You know how risky this procedure is.‟
„And how painful,‟ said Hatch, with the beginnings of a cruel smile playing on his lips. „Yes,‟ he continued, „she‟s expendable all right.‟
By the time the effects of the drug began to wear off fully, the sun was setting in the west. Shanks untied his captive, his strong hands moving with surprising dexterity over the knots. „Make yourself at home,‟ he said, turning to leave with his female companion. „Don‟t try to escape, though. There‟s twenty stone of prime-cut thug outside the door, and he‟s got orders to snap your spine in two if you so much as think about it!‟
„Where am I?‟ the Doctor asked, still confused.
„You‟re on my home turf now, la,‟ said Shanks with a cheerful grin. „God‟s own country. There‟s drink in the cabinet, and the remote control for the telly‟s lying around somewhere. I‟ve got to go and see a man about the considerable amount of money he owes me.‟
„Drug money?‟ queried the Doctor darkly.
Shanks tugged at the cuff of his jacket. „That‟s libellous! I‟m a respected businessman. If I weren‟t so busy, I‟d take you on a guided tour.‟
„Perhaps some other time,‟ said the Doctor, watching as the door closed behind Shanks.
The Doctor sat alone, gratefully savouring the still quietness and his limited freedom. Then he got to his feet, walking through the sliding doors and on to the apartment veranda. He remembered having been in the city one Christmas with Stephen and Sara. It seemed so long ago.
He reached the wrought-iron railings and glanced over the edge, feeling a momentary sensation of vertigo as the ground, twenty storeys below, seemed to rush up towards him. The Doctor stepped back, almost tripping over his own feet.
„You‟ve lost one life that way,‟ he muttered to himself, and sat down on one of the flimsy canvas-and-metal chairs. He closed his eyes, and let his thoughts assemble.
The universe was an enormous jigsaw puzzle, with only the edges completed. Billions of other pieces sat in a huge pile, waiting to be sorted out. Order from chaos.
Hexen Bridge was at the centre of this part of the puzzle, but even the remaining pieces were out of reach.
The Doctor looked around the room. There had to be a connection between Shanks and Hexen Bridge, beyond the obvious fact that he had been educated there. He strolled over to the television, and noticed that what