Doctor Who_ Trading Futures - Lance Parkin [76]
‘Never believe what you download off the datanet,’ he told her in that rich voice of his.
‘Do your people know where you are?’
‘Yes.’
‘Some sort of homing device?’ Cosgrove asked.
‘Nanotech. One of my eyebrows, apparently. I don’t know which one. I’ve often tried to spot it.’
Anji tried not to stare at them.
‘Advanced stuff,’ Cosgrove said, admiringly. ‘Does it help us at all?’
‘It means they know where I am.’
‘We’re on the Russian Steppes. I don’t think the USAF make house calls here.’
‘They will to protect their President.’
‘Where are they?’ Anji asked.
‘On their way,’ the President insisted. ‘Concorde’s fast, and the jets will be coming from the Gulf.’
‘We could take Baskerville’s time machine by force.’
Mather nodded.
‘Would you be able to operate it?’ Anji asked them.
‘You seem very chummy with him,’ Cosgrove suggested.
‘No,’ she said simply. ‘Just keen to stay alive.’
Cosgrove raised an eyebrow. ‘Who are you? If you don’t mind me asking.’
‘She’s a friend of the Doctor,’ Mather replied.
‘And that’s an explanation?’ Cosgrove asked.
‘It’s a pretty good indication we won’t get an explanation. Cosgrove, what time is it?’
‘You’re wearing a watch.’
‘I know. Look at the news.’
‘And there’s a clock on the screen… and both this and the watch are showing the right time.’
Anji took a deep breath. ‘If you two just said what you meant, instead of talking in secret code all the time…’
‘Toronto,’ Mather said.
Cosgrove raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes. Toronto.’
Anji peered at the screen. It looked more like Tripoli to her. The same pictures of the school bus they’d had on before.
‘You’re still doing it,’ she told them.
‘A news blackout?’ Cosgrove suggested.
‘In the land of the free?’
‘In a Commonwealth nation, old chap.’
‘Trust me, if there was a nuclear explosion in the same hemisphere as the US, there wouldn’t be anything else on the news.’
‘Nuclear explosion?’ Anji asked, trying to piece all this together. ‘The Fourth Prophecy?’ she guessed, suddenly.
‘Yes.’
‘And it’s not happened?’
‘No.’
Cosgrove stroked his chin. ‘Which rather makes me wonder why Baskerville got it wrong.’
* * *
Fitz sauntered towards the EMP cannon maintenance duct, trying to act like he owned the place. Every so often, when he was sure no one was looking, he’d sneak a glance at the plan of the ship Pad was displaying.
He had passed a couple of Onihrs along the way, and they’d looked him up and down, but not tried to stop him.
The ship was huge. He guessed it was about a dozen miles long, about as wide, about as tall. The size of a vast city, even bearing in mind its inhabitants were twice as big as people.
His legs were getting a bit stiff now he’d walked halfway down the ship. He shouldn’t have asked Pad where to go – he should have just guessed it was as far as physically possible from where he’d been. The gravity seemed to be getting bigger. Or stronger. Heavier. Whatever the word was.
Up in space, there was no way of telling what time it was. His watch was broken – probably during the good kicking that old bloke had given him in America, just before he’d been brought here.
The walk was a good chance to have a good think. It wasn’t helping though – his best plan was still to sabotage the EMP cannon and slow down the Onihrs’ invasion of Earth.
‘Doctor,’ a growling voice barked from behind him.
‘Er, yes?’ said Fitz, stopping in his tracks.
‘The deputy leader requires you on the control gallery.’
Fitz groaned and turned round.
He could see almost all the way back to the gallery from here. It wasn’t quite a straight line – the transparent corridors wove in and out of the superstructure of the ship. But he could see the route he’d taken.
Five miles. Six, probably. Maybe seven. With all that weaving, it was quite possibly eight miles.
‘Doctor,’ the Onihr asked. ‘Where were you heading?’
‘Er… just taking a walk.’
‘A walk? An odd alien custom.’
‘You’re the one with all the corridors, mate.’ Fitz scolded himself for using the word ‘mate’. It wasn’t very Doctorish, was it?
‘These are mainly used