Doctor Who_ Transit - Ben Aaronovitch [93]
He hummed something appropriate and calculated what he'd get for a really spectacular plane crash. He always gave himself bonus points for those.
'What's that noise?' asked Kadiatu.
'Edith Piaf,' said the Doctor. 'Born on a doorstep and sang the blues.'
'I'd sing the blues,' said Kadiatu, 'if I'd been born on a doorstep. What's the song about?'
'Regret.'
'What did she regret?'
'Absolutely nothing,' said the Doctor.
They hit the ground.
The crash unfolded with agonizing slowness, he could have done without that. They were slammed forward in the harness and the cabin slammed flat. There was the sharp rending sound that a sheet of carbon fibre makes when you rip it in half. There was a moment of weightlessness as the jet bounced and then went back to the serious business of tearing itself apart. Rents appeared in the cabin's port wall. Through the hole the Doctor watched in astonishment as sheets of spray rushed past. Torque forces shoved him sideways as the jet slewed to the right. The final impact with the crash barrier was almost gentle.
It had to be worth thirty-six points at least, thought the Doctor, more if we landed on something expensive.
He looked at Kadiatu who looked back at him.
'Whose doorstep was it anyway?' asked Kadiatu.
'I have no idea,' said the Doctor.
It took the Jacksonville emergency crew fifteen minutes to cut them out. A couple of paramedics climbed in first to run a quick diagnostic on their suits. Satisfied that neither of them was going to decompress, the paramedics allowed them up.
As he was helped out the Doctor got his chance to look at the crash site. Jacksonville had laid down two kilometres of compression foam and the jet had skidded along its whole length, leaving a significant percentage of itself behind. The Doctor could see part of the tail assembly two hundred metres back, protruding from the foam like a shark's fin.
'How's the pilot?' he asked.
'She's alive,' said one of the paramedics, politely waving to indicate that she was talking. Her suit had a major's flash on the left breast. 'But we can't cut into the canopy without compromising her life support. We 're bringing up a gantry to take it out in one piece.'
There was a military ambulance waiting, built along the same lines as the dustkart. The major accompanied them into the rear airlock. Once the pressure had normalized she took her helmet off to reveal scarification patterns on her high Yoruba cheekbones.
Kadiatu started to struggle with her helmet but the major restrained her with a hand on her arm. 'Emergency seals,' she said. 'We'll have to cut it off.'
The inner airlock door slid open. There were two more paramedics in army fatigues waiting inside. The major got them to sit down on a pair of. reclining couches and pulled on a headphone set. 'All right, Muller, back to base,' she said. 'But take it easy this time.'
He felt the ambulance pull smoothly away.
'Bavarians,' said the major, 'always in a rush.'
The paramedics used calibrated laser scalpels to cut away the helmet seals.
'That was some landing,' said the major. She was smiling but her eyes were tense as they started easing the helmets off.
Perhaps she's worried that our heads will come off as well, thought the Doctor. He felt cool air on his face. 'See,' he said, 'it's still attached to my shoulders.'
'Planning in depth,' said Kadiatu. 'My sacred backside.' Kadiatu's face was puffed and swollen by G trauma. Dark bruises surrounded her eyes, giving them a sleepy look. She looked at the Doctor. 'You look like a big bruise,' she said.
The major gave them each a squeezy bottle of orange juice with strict instructions to take small sips only as their suits were cut away. The major was a bit surprised to find the Doctor dressed in his street clothes underneath.
'I was in a hurry," explained the Doctor.
Kadiatu laughed and then winced. 'That hurts,' she said. The paramedics cut away her undersuit to reveal swollen welts around her shoulders, neck and in a line down her front where the fastenings had cut in. At twelve Gs