Doctor Who_ The Paradise of Death - Barry Letts [66]
By this time they had left the Palace grounds and were flying over the streets of the city. The crescendo of the siren was joined by others converging on the park.
Before Sarah could turn her head to look for the telltale purple of the security cars, the Doctor spoke again. ‘I’ll soon lose them,’ he said. ‘Hang on to your hats.’
It was like being in a rocket launch – like in all those old movies. Sarah felt herself slammed into the back of her seat with her head pinned to the neckrest. Whether her face actually distorted with the G-force – that was what they called it, wasn’t it? – she had no idea. It certainly felt like it; particularly when, with gut-twisting effect, the Doctor weaved his way through the seemingly snail-slow traffic meandering above the streets.
In seconds – or minutes, perhaps; time seemed to belong to another world – they had left behind the crowded blocks of shops and houses and were flying amongst the towering factories on the outskirts of the city.
They slowed down to the speed of a record breaking racing car.
‘Mind if we go back to get my stomach?’ said Sarah.
‘I know what you mean,’ said the Doctor. ‘I must admit, I didn’t expect quite that speed.’
‘There’s supposed to be a limiter,’ said Onya. ‘But I removed the governor.’
‘What a woman!’ said the Brigadier.
‘Isn’t there a risk of positive feedback in the helical particle-generator?’ said the Doctor.
‘Not if you –’ Onya started to reply. She looked at the Doctor with astonishment. ‘You know these cars?’ she said.
‘Have you been here before, Doctor?’ said the Brigadier.
‘Why didn’t you say?’
‘No, no,’ he answered. ‘They’re very like the skimmers we used to fly when I was a boy on Gallifrey. You never forget how to ride a bicycle, do you? Now then, where to?’
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘You’ve lost them?’
‘We were just too late, Chairman Freeth.’
‘Then find them, Tragan!’
‘They were in an ordinary small flycar like any one of thousands. How would you suggest I set about it?’
His only answer was a strangled cry of fury.
Onya Farjen was very sorry to hear the news of Waldo’s arrest. He was always a headstrong young man, she thought. Still, as she pointed out to Sarah, he was in no immediate danger. The authorities always did things according to the rules, whether the rules were laid down in the statute book or merely the custom of years. It would take time to organize the hunt. Then there might be a chance of saving him – and only then.
‘How?’ said Sarah.
‘You’ll see,’ said Onya.
The Doctor, who had set the flycar to automatic on a course given him by Onya, looked up. ‘How’s the arm?’ he said.
‘I still can’t move it,’ she said. ‘But the feeling is beginning to come back. It’s lucky he was at extreme range.
It’ll take a few days, but I’ll recover.’
‘That sounds like the voice of experience,’ said the Brigadier.
‘I must admit, it’s not the first time I’ve been hit.’ Her mind flickered over the memories.
‘The housekeepers on Parakon seem to lead surprisingly full lives,’ said the Doctor. ‘That was as pretty a piece of unarmed combat back there as I’ve seen in years.’
Onya heard the compliment with a wry internal smile.
To be forced into violence at all was in itself a failure – or that’s what old Darshee would have said, even as he taught her the skilful use of violence.
‘Thank you, Doctor,’ she said. ‘I must say the same to you.’
‘A similar discipline, I suspect,’ he replied. ‘I call it Venusian Aikido. It’s been most helpful to me over the years, but I always regret having to use it. In a sense, I feel I’ve failed.’
Who was this man?
Her thought was evidently reciprocated by the Brigadier. ‘If you’ll forgive me,’ he was saying, ‘who are you? And where are you taking us? You’re not really the President’s servant, are you?’
Was she? Or had she just been using the position as a front? That too, of course, but... ‘I have loved him and protected him,’ she said. ‘And now I shall never be able to return.’
‘I’m taking you to my real home,’ she added, in answer to the Brigadier’s second question. ‘As for who