Doctor Who_ The Last Dodo - Jacqueline Rayner [53]
‘She was,’ Frank said miserably. ‘When she had me locked up, I thought she meant it. I thought I was gonna rot in prison.’
‘You deserved to,’ said Eve. ‘And you would have done, if my plans hadn’t changed, if I hadn’t needed an extra pair of hands again.’
It was at that point that Martha remembered her original mission: to find out what the business with the sabre‐tooths and the dodos and the eggs was all about.
‘So, this business with the sabre‐tooths and the dodos and the eggs – what’s that all about, then?’ she asked, abandoning any thoughts of subtlety. Her time with the Doctor had led her to discover that villains really did like to tell you all their plans – well, they needed someone to boast to about how clever they were.
‘I really don’t think it’s any of your business,’ Eve said.
Oh. Damn. Perhaps it wouldn’t be quite that simple.
On the third sweep down the high street, the Doctor spotted the second dodo, still scrabbling hard in the shop doorway. Reluctantly recalled to the real business of the day, he brought the machine to a halt and said goodbye to Albert. ‘You wanna come for a spin round the galaxy?’ he’d asked. ‘Return the favour.’
But Albert had shaken his head. ‘I’ve got a wife and kids!’ he’d said. ‘Wouldn’t catch me leaving them, no, not if you were offering me the whole universe.’
And the Doctor, who had nobody, had nodded his head and said he understood.
Albert drove off, and the Doctor waved goodbye.
The Time Lord wandered over to the dodo. To his surprise, it appeared to be ticking. The Doctor hadn’t encountered very many dodos over the years, but he was fairly certain that, as a rule, they didn’t tick.
He got closer. The sound was actually coming from beneath the bird. Yes, there it was – the egg. The round, white egg that the dodo had completely failed to bury in the solid pavement. The Doctor leaned down, attempting to sidle his fingers near enough to extract the ovoid, but the bird reacted violently. Its hooked beak might look comical from a distance, but when the sharp point is threatening to skewer your digits to the path, it’s no laughing matter.
The Doctor stepped back, and the dodo calmed down – but with an alert look in its eyes that told the Doctor to beware. He considered the situation. It seemed imperative that he examine that egg. On the other hand, having survived an encounter with a load of sabre‐toothed tigers, not to mention a dinosaur attack, it would be fairly embarrassing to be mauled by a giant pigeon. If only Martha had still been around – she seemed to have a way with the things…
The Doctor raised a finger in the air. ‘Ding!’ he said, indicating the metaphorical light bulb that had just lit up above his head. An idea!
He hurried back to the place where Martha had first spotted Dorothea the dodo, and dived into the heap of rubbish that had spilled out of the litter bin. There, nestling in a triangular plastic container that had once contained cheese and pickle sandwiches, was an egg. Or rather, what looked like an egg.
The Doctor picked it up, wiping off a smear of pickle with his sleeve. This one, too, was ticking.
It was a bomb.
The dodos were burying bombs. The Doctor breathed in heavily.
And then, to top it off, another dinosaur attacked him.
‘Well, whatever your plans are, the Doctor will stop you,’ Martha said.
‘Yeah, right,’ said Frank, sharing a smirk with Eve.
Martha turned to him. He was manipulating controls at the desk, glancing between them and one of the screens in front of him. She stared. The picture on the screen looked like a dinosaur. Not the one she’d seen briefly before leaving Earth, but one of the smaller ones from the shop’s TV screens –