Doctor Who_ The King of Terror - Keith Topping [48]
‘Selected targets are better,’ said Barrington, moving to a crouched position and firing at another alien figure behind the Coke machine. ‘So, the Doctor . . . ?’
‘He’s about the fourth one I’ve met,’ noted Paynter, reloading. ‘There’s supposed to be nine or ten of them, apparently. I like this one, he seems like a nice guy.’
‘He strikes me as being a bit wet,’ said Barrington flatly.
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Paynter was surprised. ‘Looks can be deceptive,’ he said as he drew level with his partner.
Barrington fired again. ‘All that science-fiction nonsense befuddles me.’
‘I know what you mean,’ said Paynter as they reached the safety of a hidden alcove. ‘But you get used to it. The Doctor used to be a big geezer with teeth and curls. Later, he changed into someone else. The Brigadier tried to explain it to me but I got a headache. He was using the metaphor of a caterpillar changing into a butterfly, only the Doctor does it again and again.’
‘Doesn’t seem natural.’
‘It isn’t. He’s an alien. Deal with it. Cloning’s not natural either but we’re using the technology to our advantage.’
‘I have problems with that as well,’ Barrington said, filling his magazine with more bullets. Inches from his foot, a puff of dust indicated that someone was shooting at them. ‘Looks like the natives are getting restless,’ he said.
‘Hang back,’ said Paynter, holding on to his colleague’s arm. ‘Let them wait.’
‘Sometimes, I think we should be more open and accountable. To the public, I mean.’
Paynter began to laugh. ‘Mark, mate. Aliens have landed on Earth at a rate of one mothership with supporting killing machines every couple of months for the last thirty-odd years. Everybody knows. Half of them have been televised live! It’s just people don’t talk about it . . . ’
‘I know that. I mean the use of alien technology.’
‘We’ve got to fight them somehow. What’s the alternative . . . Throw rocks at them?’
Barrington clearly favoured the diplomatic approach. ‘We could try actually talking to them,’ he said.
‘You try that with a Dalek mate, it’d have your balls off in a jiffy!’ Paynter roared with laughter. ‘Let’s get out there and shoot something, I’m getting bored!’
At that moment two pinpricks of red light appeared, targeting themselves on Paynter’s and Barrington’s heads. ‘Move,’ cried Barrington, but it was too late.
+++ YOU HAVE BEEN DESTROYED BY A JULSAEN ENERGY CANNON.
PLEASE PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND RETURN TO THE SAFE ZONE
+++
Paynter unleashed a string of expletives. ‘Should have seen that coming,’
he chided as he and Barrington trooped dejectedly back up the street towards the elevator.
‘Ah well, it’s not as if we really got killed or anything,’ noted Barrington. ‘I mean, that would have been a hit of a blow!’
‘Score?’ shouted Paynter to the unseen computer.
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+++ YOU ACHIEVED A COMBINED KILL-RATIO OF . . . 83.7 PER CENT
+++
‘Eight out of ten,’ said Paynter, unloading his weapon and watching the spent bullets fall to the floor. ‘Eight out of ten is good. Eight out of ten will keep you alive. For a while.’
‘I’m thinking about going to the Hollywood Bowl tonight,’ said Barrington as they entered the elevator. ‘It’s the Beatles millennium tour. Fancy coming?’
‘I think I’ll pass,’ said Paynter. ‘I’ve got blisters on my feet and a bit of a headache and I want to finish the report to the Brigadier on InterCom. Anyway, they’ve never been the same since poor old Ringo drowned.’
Hiroshima. Lot of irony in that, thought Kyla. Because what she held in her hand had the potential to atomise the world.
The safe house was spartan at best. No furniture except for a futon bed.
That didn’t matter, because Kyla didn’t have any time for home comforts. She had needed every second of the two days that she had been in hiding to de-code the final elements of Chung Sen’s secret files. And now she had done it.
She had taken far more risks than she would have wished. But that was part of the deal. She got her allies