Doctor Who_ The Last Dodo - Jacqueline Rayner [50]
I waited until the infirmary party was completely out of sight, and then hefted Dorothea out of the trolley. She started walking forwards and I held my breath, but she’d only gone to investigate an empty paper cup, presumably dropped by a visitor.
I breathed out. It had been a daft idea. Time to rethink.
Here’s what I’ve found is useful, being a detective – OK, being with the Doctor – coming up with ridiculous, pie‐in‐the‐sky hypotheses and not being afraid to test them. Where was all this stuff happening? That’s right, Earth. Therefore who was most likely to be involved? Yup, one of the Earthers. After all, one of them had already been exposed as a dodgy dealer. I considered Frank as the culprit. Possible, but he was currently locked up, so how could he have sent all the clones to Earth? Plus, would he have the scientific knowledge necessary to create them in the first place?
Still, the Earthers’ quarters seemed as good a place as any to start the search. Of course, I didn’t know where they were. I did, however, know which cafeteria door Vanni had gone out of on her way to bed, and I couldn’t think of any other starting point. So I put Dorothea back in the trolley and set off. I didn’t have the instincts of a homing pigeon, but I was fairly sure I could find the way to the cafeteria, mainly because there were signs with great big arrows indicating the right direction.
The sight of the canteen made me realise that I’d only had a doughnut all day, and I was starving. Of course, I didn’t have any money on me to get something out of the vending machines. Then I spotted a cardboard box by the side of a half‐empty machine. Refills?
Funny how your polite, twenty‐first‐century, law‐abiding habits are hard to break. Could I bring myself to nick a packet of crisps? Not at first. And then I reminded myself that thanks to this museum I’d been nearly shot and nearly eaten, to name but two incidents, so the least it owed me was a packet of cheese and onion. So I had one, with some salt and vinegar to follow, and bother the cholesterol. I did venture a sniff at a packet of sausage and marshmallow, obviously the in‐flavour of the future, but chickened out. They turned out to be a hit with Dorothea, though, who crunched the savoury‐sweet snack down with every indication of enjoyment.
She was halfway through the crisps when she suddenly stopped, and put her head to one side. Listening? Birds must have ears, mustn’t they, it’s just you can’t see them. Yes, of course they have, there’d be no point in all that chirping otherwise. Anyway, after listening for a few moments, she waddled to the end of the trolley, pushing on the child seat as if trying to propel the whole thing forward – but owing to physics she couldn’t, of course.
I lifted her out, hardly daring to breath. Surely my plan wasn’t actually working?! Was she really ‘homing’?
She waddled off, and I followed eagerly.
Through the door, down a corridor, down another corridor. Then she stopped outside what appeared to be a plain white wall and started scrabbling at it with her beak. I listened. There were definite squawking sounds coming from the other side of the wall. Dorothea probably hadn’t been homing, she’d just been following the sounds. ‘Just.’ Well, it was good enough for me. But how to get in when there didn’t seem to be any doors at all… Not for the first time, I wished I had a sonic screwdriver of my own.
Then, suddenly, a section of the wall slid back. I don’t know who was more surprised, me or Frank.
Frank. There you are, always go with your first instinct. ‘You’re supposed to be locked up!’ I cried.
He took a couple of steps back. ‘Yeah, right. Ain’t built a place yet that can hold me.’
‘What are you doing?’ I asked.
He shrugged, defensively.