• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

'All my clothes are back in the dustkart,' said Kadiatu. She leaned forward to let them peel the undersuit off her back. There were vertical welts down her shoulder blades. 'Which is all your fault.'

The Doctor watched as the muscles moved under her skin. The Gallifreyans once looked like that, thought the Doctor, when the world was young.

'What about you?' the major asked the Doctor.

'I'm fine,' he said. 'Trust me.'

The major hesitated for a moment before nodding. She pulled a handscan from a niche in the equipment rack and ran it over the Doctor's body. He waited for the inevitable questions, but they never came. Instead the major shunted the results to a portable monitor and showed it to him.

'That normal for you?' she asked.

'Yes,' he said. I'm getting far too well known on this planet, thought the Doctor. He might have to do something about that soon, real soon.

The major ran the handscan over Kadiatu, starting with her feet. 'Bruising,' she told the paramedic, 'bruising, contusion, get some jam on that.' The paramedic gently applied a clear gel to the welts around Kadiatu's hips and thighs. The major continued scanning. 'No internal damage to the uterus, enlarged vermiform appendix but no sign of infection so I guess that's normal, large liver.' The major smiled at Kadiatu. 'You've got a big heart and lungs. How long can you hold your breath?'

'Never timed myself,' said Kadiatu.

'Sports?'

Kadiatu shook her head.

'Ever break any bones?'

'No.'

'Ever been sick?'

'No,' said Kadiatu. 'You're the first doctor ever gave me a scan.'

The major held the handscan over Kadiatu's head for a long time, staring at the monitor.

'Something wrong?' asked Kadiatu.

'No,' said the major. 'You've got a thick skull so it takes a while to build up a picture.'

From where he was the Doctor could see the monitor for himself.

Kadiatu did have a thick skull and a lot more besides.

STS Central - Olympus Mons

'Like that,' said Zamina, 'except with narrower lips.' The videofit face on the screen altered slightly but the nose was still wrong. 'Shorter nose,' said Zamina.

Across the office the Chinese woman who seemed to be in charge was talking on the phone to the ugliest man she'd ever seen. They were using a lot of technical jargon that Zamina didn't understand.

The gist of it was that a jet had crashed-landed at Jacksonville and all the passengers had survived. Something that the woman and the ugly man had trouble believing.

The Chinese woman looked over at Zamina. 'Have you finished yet?' she asked.

'Nearly.'

The woman came and looked over her shoulder. 'Good enough,' she said. Zamina didn't like her. The first thing she'd said when Zamina was shown in was, 'Gods Girl, you want to get them tits fixed sometime.'

Zamina didn't like people she didn't know calling her girl. The woman had style though; when she talked people listened.

'What's this for?'

'You know what pattern recognition is?'

'Course.'

'We'll feed this image into the monitoring system and it should be able to track your friend for us.'

'She's not my friend,' said Zamina. 'I don't think she's anybody's friend really.'

'I wish you'd tell the Doctor that,' said the woman.

Jacksonville

Kadiatu managed a quick shower at the officers' mess. The major lent her some of her off-duty clothes. The selection left Kadiatu wondering what the major must look like out on the town. A pair of red 680s were too tight but serviceable and the only top that fitted her was a luminous canary yellow lurex skintight with EAT FISH AND DIE heat-printed across the chest. The major rustled up a pair of ankle-height service boots from base stores. They were made from soft elephant leather with airwear soles. Kadiatu had to sit down to do up the double fasteners.

The major held out a shoulder holster. Kadiatu stared at it for a moment and then raised her arms so that the major could buckle it on. It was a woman's holster, hanging low so that the gun wouldn't catch on her breast when she drew. When the major leaned