Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [71]
Norman Peverell gestured towards the scattered houses with lights still burning in their windows.
‘And a few didn’t make it,’ said Redmond, appearing in the hatch of the armoured car. ‘Like the stewardess and her boyfriend.’
‘You stay inside while we reconnoitre,’ said Roz. ‘And don’t forget to seal the hatch properly.’
But Redmond got out of the hatch and climbed down from the armoured car. He was wearing a combat helmet like Roz’s, with night vision and communications hardware built in, and he had a gun slung over his shoulder.
‘No. You stay inside the armoured car, Roz. I’m going to reconnoitre. I’ve always wanted to reconnoitre.’
Roz was too surprised to argue. She even unbuckled her helmet and began to climb back on to the vehicle when the civil servant cleared his throat.
‘I’m afraid Ms Forrester has to come along. She was the one who saw the White King.’
‘Well, I’m not going back on board.’ Redmond rubbed the bandage on his throat, looking at the armoured car. ‘It’s not so bad when it’s moving but I’ve had bad experiences in that thing when it’s stationary.’ He smiled a charming smile. ‘I guess you might say I have a touch of claustrophobia.’
‘Not ideal for somebody who has to work in an armoured car,’ said Roz grouchily.
‘Not ideal,’ agreed Redmond. He turned to Creed. ‘I’m afraid that just leaves you.’
‘Leaves me?’
‘To stay on board and keep an eye on things.’
Creed shrugged and climbed back on to the vehicle. The truth was that he didn’t mind going back inside. There was something he wanted to do and he didn’t want the others knowing about it.
‘Oh, Creed-’ said Roz.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll secure the frigging hatch,’ called Creed as he disappeared inside.
Redmond chuckled.
‘I’m just security conscious, that’s all,’ said Roz, a little stung. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that.’
They turned and set off towards the small cluster of houses on the far side of the podium. Their shadows jogged along beside them, crisp and precise in the bright moonlight.
Roz was the first to break the silence. ‘Why do they call it the White King?’ she asked.
‘Because it’s white,’ said Norman Peverell.
Roz sighed with disgust and didn’t reply. Redmond didn’t want her getting pissed off, so he interpreted the sigh for Norman Peverell.
‘We know the dog’s white,’ he explained. ‘Roz got a good look at him.’
‘Good look?’ said Roz. ‘He was as near to me as you are now.’ She remembered standing in the nightmare half-light in the hallway of the stewardess’s house, staring through the peephole at the strange white dog who sat patiently on the steps.
Roz realized that they were approaching the place where she’d last seen Jessica’s body. She held the Styer AUG
ready, set to rapid fire and she was scanning the low-walled gardens on either side of them as they walked past.
Whenever they came to tree branches that hung out over a wall they took a careful detour, walking in the middle of the road. Roz hadn’t forgotten how the dark shapes had come flowing over a wall like this to bring the stewardess down.
Redmond was saying, ‘I think what Roz meant was, why do they call it the king?’
Norman Peverell frowned. ‘Interesting question,’ he said.
‘It just acquired the name as stories spread by word of mouth. This creature seems to have almost become some kind of urban myth. That’s one reason the ministry is so reluctant to accept any unconfirmed sightings.’
‘What do you mean, unconfirmed? I said I saw him and when you asked me I confirmed it.’
‘With all due respect, Ms Forrester,’ said Norman Peverell. ‘We have to be rigorous about the White King. He has almost become-’
‘He?’
‘We assume it’s a male.’
‘Why?’
Norman Peverell paused to consider his words carefully.
‘Do you know anything about population dynamics, the theory of the alpha male?’
No.
‘Never mind. We don’t have to refer to the animal as
“he”. For purposes of discussion by all means let’s refer to it as an “it”. Over the years it has almost become the subject of a cult. Reports were just beginning to be taken seriously in government