Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [109]
‘I knew a guy, said Redmond. ‘His first time under fire he was so frightened he crapped himself.’
‘It wasn’t because I was frightened,’ said Norman Peverell hotly. ‘It was just because I couldn’t get to the loo.’
‘Exactly!’ said Redmond.
‘And I didn’t, as you so delicately put it, “crap myself”.’
‘My point exactly. This guy lost it completely. We heard small-arms fire and we dropped to the floor. He crapped his pants and then, this is the worst part, he was so ashamed he stood up and ran.’
‘My God.’ said Norman Peverell. He was silent for a moment. ‘Did they cut him down?’
‘That’s right. Small-arms fire, right? He got himself killed, right? Now, that is genuinely something to be ashamed of.
Getting yourself killed. You, on the other hand, should be proud of yourself Norman. You have survived. That is the primary objective in the combat zone. Therefore you count as one of the victors in this recent scuffle. You’re a winner, Norman.’
The interest which had briefly animated Norman Peverell’s face faded. He buried his nose in his tea-cup. ‘I am not a winner. I am a grown man who has wet his trousers.’
‘Yeah, but after all that waiting, your bladder hurting like hell, I bet it was a nice sensation.’
‘A nice sensation?’ Norman Peverell blinked up at Redmond, startled. ‘What?’
‘Letting go. Finally letting your bladder go after all that time. What a relief it must have been. I bet it was a lovely sensation.’
‘What?’ Norman Peverell was staring at Redmond like a man who couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘It must have been a what?’
‘Just for the first ten seconds or so. You must have enjoyed it.
‘What are you suggesting here?’ Norman Peverell blinked angrily, setting his tea-cup down. ‘Are you suggesting that I’m some kind of pervert?’
Before Redmond could reply, there were footsteps in the hall and the stewardess came into the sitting room. She’d showered and changed her clothes, and looked amazingly good for a woman who had survived the ordeal of the last 24
hours.
‘Hello Jessica,’ said Norman. His eyes had lit up when he saw her come into the room. He hopped up off the sofa.
‘Here, have a seat.’
‘Thank you, Norman.’
‘If you don’t mind sitting beside Redmond, who was just insinuating that I was some kind of pervert who enjoyed wetting himself.’
‘I wasn’t insinuating anything of the kind,’ said Redmond.
‘I was just saying it must have been-’
‘We’ll have none of that talk now,’ said Norman Peverell sternly. ‘There’s a lady present.’
The stewardess smiled at him. ‘Your clothes are out of the washing-machine, Norman. I’ve put them into the drier.’
‘Thank you, that’s so kind of you. Can I get you a cup of tea?’ Norman Peverell was easing himself beside the stewardess now, sitting close beside her on the small sofa, and gazing up into
her bruised, smiling face. He was able to sit beside her because Redmond had stood up. Neither the stewardess nor Norman Peverell had even noticed him get up. They only had eyes for each other.
They didn’t notice Redmond leave the room, either.
He walked along the short corridor and out of the front door into the cool, blue morning.
Roz was sitting on the front steps beside her friend, the girl called Benny. They both had large mugs of coffee, steaming in the chilly air.
‘That was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,’ said Roz.
‘Oh, I don’t know, we’ve seen some weird stuff,’ said Benny.
‘What’s that?’ said Redmond, settling down beside them.
‘The way the dogs all just left,’ said Roz.
‘The way they returned to normal, you mean,’ said Benny. ‘Like a spell had been broken.’
‘So, what did I miss?’ said Redmond.
‘Well, it was like they had been in formation before,’ said Roz. ‘Every dog knowing where it had to go and what it had to do. Working together. A precision machine.’
‘A nest of termites,’ said Benny. ‘There must have been thousands of them, their behaviour all meshing together.
Then, all at once they ceased to be an organized group.’
‘Yeah, the machine fell apart. The big doggy