Doctor Who_ The Paradise of Death - Barry Letts [82]
‘Do something!’ she shrieked.
But just as before, her finger tightened on the trigger, the gun fired, with the same violent kick to the shoulder, and Waldo fell to the ground with a bullet in his back.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Chairman and the Vice-Chairman of the Parakon Corporation were, in their several ways, enjoying themselves. As they had discovered when comparing notes after sharing similar delights, their desires were, so to speak, complementary. On one point they were agreed, of course: the more helpless the victim, the greater the gratification.
Tragan, however, with his Naglon faculty of split awareness, found a plenitude of rapture in the intimate experiencing of – and simultaneous distancing from – the sufferings of the victim, whereas Freeth could only be sure of a truly memorable access of satisfaction through the exercise of absolute power, preferably lethal.
In the normal way, therefore, the latter might have been expected to revel in the bloody despatch of an unarmed fugitive. However, to have his pleasure abruptly terminated so soon was to awaken his wrath, which (as Tragan well knew) could be dangerous.
‘He tried to wing him,’ said the Vice-Chairman, in response to Freeth’s snarl of rage. ‘It’s standing orders. If a quarry goes into a Gargan area, no-one can follow him. Our part of the hunt would be over. All we would have left would be the pleasure of his being eaten alive once the creature returned.’
Even as he spoke, he felt – and Freeth could see with his ER vision – the body in question stirring. He raised his head and with sobbing breath started to heave himself towards the Gargan’s cave.
The hunter raised his gun – and lowered it again.
Rudley had crossed the boundary of the Gargan’s territory.
As if in confirmation of Tragan’s words, the hunter spoke. ‘That’s it, then,’ he said, and Freeth could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. ‘I’m not going in there after him. Come on, let’s get back.’
He turned and Freeth found himself going down the hill, away from Rudley. ‘Bit of luck, really,’ the hunter continued. ‘I promised to take the kids to the big fight tomorrow.’
Freeth switched to the other channel. By this time, Rudley had managed to make his way across the stony courtyard to reach the Gargan’s lair. With a final agonizing effort, he pulled himself inside and collapsed onto the ground, amongst the scattered bones of the Gargan’s prey.
The transmissions ceased. He was unconscious.
Freeth gently removed his headset. He dug in his pocket for his bag of bull’s-eyes. He put one in his mouth. He licked the sticky mintiness from his fingers. He spoke, very quietly. Freeth at his quietest was Freeth at his most dangerous.
‘Well, congratulations, Tragan,’ he said. ‘Your people have proved themselves as efficient as their colleagues.
They’re supposed to know the terrain. Why didn’t they head him off? Just idle curiosity, you understand.’
Tragan’s face had by now darkened to a royal bubbling, but his voice was pale and flat. ‘I suppose they made the assumption that he would know about the Gargan. After all, any regular follower of the hunts would’
‘Thank you,’ said Freeth. ‘You have made my point.’
He made to leave, but turned back at the door, like an actor in an ER serial. ‘Have you ever heard the expression,
“A fish rots from the head downwards”?’ he said. ‘No?
Think about it in bed tonight – if you can’t sleep.’
No matter what her mind tried to tell her, Sarah felt as if she were the one who had shot Waldo; but when it became apparent that he was alive, the hope that they could still save him swept away her despair. But to her amazement, nobody moved.
‘Come on!’ she cried. ‘We’ve got to go and get him.
Before that thing comes back.’
‘We’d just be adding our own deaths to his,’ said Onya.
Surely there must be some way! Sarah turned to appeal to the Brigadier, who was deep in thought.
‘We could hunt the Gargan down,’ he said. ‘Before it gets him, I mean. Before it returns to its lair if we can. Yes, that’s the ticket!’
‘Impossible,’ said Rance.
‘Impossible