Doctor Who_ Trading Futures - Lance Parkin [33]
As Fitz reached this new plateau of understanding of alien culture and aesthetics, he and the Onihrs had reached the interrogation chamber. They went out of the corridor into a dark chamber. It was narrow (although nothing in this ship was that narrow), and high‐ceilinged, and once they were inside, the Onihrs had strung Fitz up by the wrists, let him hang about a foot from the ground while they’d gone off somewhere. The higher gravity didn’t help one bit.
Twenty minutes later – as far as he could tell, in the dark, unable to reach his watch – Fitz was beginning to wonder if they were ever coming back for him.
Twenty minutes after that, they did.
The two of them had changed clothes. They’d been wearing spiky black armour before. Now they wore billowing heliotrope robes – ones that were far too small for them. They had ceremonial collars – really badly cracked and damaged ones. The matching skullcaps rested, rather ludicrously, on their top horn, the one between their eyes. The whole ensemble seemed thick with dust, and the robes were frayed and crudely patched in places.
‘So, Doctor,’ one of the Onihrs rumbled, ‘have you decide to relent, and to teach us the mysteries of space‐time travel?’
‘I could tell you,’ Fitz suggested. ‘But first I have to know what you would do with that knowledge.’
The Onihrs leaned in. He could feel their breath. It was warm, and smelled of meat.
‘Conquest,’ one of them rasped.
* * *
Jaxa’s wristband had started to chime.
‘We must leave,’ Roja insisted.
Jaxa was searching Baskerville’s desk. ‘We must locate the time machine.’
‘Baskerville and his associates will have removed it when they left.’
‘Possibly.’ Roja was checking his own wrist computer. ‘There is no temp trace. Why isn’t there a temp trace?’
‘It is possible to shield against our time detectors.’
‘With great difficulty, Madame Jaxa. They conducted a time test while we watched, yet we didn’t register it. And if Baskerville is shielding his machine, that means that he’s expecting Agents.’
‘You think he is from my era?’
‘If he can shield his time machine from us, he may even be from your future, Madame. We have to assume that he knows about the impending disaster.’
‘How long, now?’
‘It is three to twelve.’
‘Program a one hour time transference, same spatial location. This building is well constructed, and some way from the shore. It will survive the disaster.’
‘We can’t be sure of that.’
‘No, but we do know that an illegal time machine was operating here a matter of hours ago. The destruction of this city must not be allowed to interfere with our investigation.’
‘I have prepared the time transference.’
‘Activate.’
An hour had passed. They lurched a little, as the floor had shifted slightly. The windows all had cracks running down them.
‘The building survived,’ Jaxa said. ‘Now, we have to locate the time machine. We can’t disintegrate the rogue time travellers without that evidence.’
Roja was looking out of one shattered window.
‘Everyone’s dead,’ he said softly. ‘We knew this was going to happen. Baskerville knew. The Doctor knew. So many people could have prevented this.’
Jaxa put her hand on his shoulder. ‘So it was written.’
* * *
A little over an hour earlier, the Doctor and Malady had emerged from the CIA safehouse, the midday sun making them both blink, after the dingy cellar. The crowds were quite light – it was getting too hot to be outside.
‘We’re in the Plaka,’ Malady told the Doctor, unnecessarily – it was obvious from the surroundings that this was the oldest