Doctor Who_ Wetworld - Mark Michalowski [51]
‘Then the humans carry them out. They have to be relatively simple: the slimeys’ encoding isn’t sophisticated enough, yet, to give them very complex tasks. Stuff like “Go there – get this – take it there”
I should imagine. And there will be a homing instruction too. The proteins don’t last long, so the slimeys need to make sure that the humans go back to them for more instructions before the chemicals break down. If you hadn’t tied me down last night, I’d probably have made a break for the water, trying to get back to them. Martha had a similar reaction.’
‘Where are the rest of them?’
‘They must be busy elsewhere. That’s a bit of a bummer, isn’t it?
Still, can’t be helped. If we can rescue these, it’s a start.’
He reached down and fished in his pocket for the sonic screwdriver.
‘Everybody ready?’
Slowly he stood up, raised the sonic screwdriver and held it out in front of him – and pressed the button.
The tip glowed a fierce blue-white and it began to hum. And then, with a noise like a rapidly deflating balloon, the light went out.
‘What just happened?’ asked Candy.
The Doctor shook it and tried again. This time there was nothing –
no light, no sound.
He turned sharply to Ty.
‘What have you been doing with this?’
‘What?’
He peered at it closely, shook it – even held it to his ear.
‘It’s full of mud!’ he wailed. ‘It’s dead.’
‘It won’t be the only thing,’ said Ty in a low voice. ‘Look. . . ’
Everyone looked over the rise: down below, the otters had seen them and were flowing out from amongst the settlers.
Towards them.
The Doctor sighed. ‘Here we go again. . . ’
‘Run!’ shouted the Doctor. ‘Both of you – get back to the city!’
‘No way,’ said Candy.
‘Candy,’ said Ty. ‘Go on. I’ve got two tranq guns in my pocket. Get back to the city and tell everyone what we’ve seen. Just in case. . .
you know.’
‘I’m not going,’ Candy said stubbornly. ‘You two are no match for the otters.’ ‘Oh, you’d be surprised,’ said the Doctor, his voice steely and deter-mined.
‘Especially without your sonic thing.’
‘Oh, who needs gadgets? Told you before,’ the Doctor said, tapping the side of his head. ‘Greatest tool in the galaxy.’
‘Someone was being a bit unkind,’ Candy couldn’t help but joke.
He threw her a sharp look.
‘Please, Candy – just go. Tell the settlers what we’ve found. We’ll be back – honest.’
‘Why not come with me now, then?’
‘Because I want to find out more about what’s going on.’
Candy’s shoulders fell – she knew that he wouldn’t give up until she’d gone.
‘Right,’ she said eventually. ‘Fine. Just. . . you know.’ And before she could stop herself, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Come back, yeah?’
‘Yeah,’ he smiled. ‘Trust me.’
‘What, ’cos you’re a doctor?’
‘No, ’cos I’m the Doctor! Now get moving!’
Candy glanced back down the slope: the wave of otters was closer, much closer. With a quick squeeze of Ty’s hand, she headed back towards Sunday City.
The otters approached in a broad wave, pausing fifty metres orso away.
‘Oh. . . now that’s interesting. . . ’ The Doctor gestured down the slope.
The otters, like a sea of brown fur, were parting – moving aside to leave a clear path through the centre of them.
‘Come into my parlour. . . ’ whispered the Doctor. ‘Am I the only one to get the feeling we’ve been set up here?’
Ty glanced to the left and the right and saw that the otters, without being noticed, had executed a perfect pincer movement, slipping behind them. Trapping them.
‘I think we’re being invited in for a cuppa.’ ‘We’re not going, are we?’ said Ty.
‘It’d be rude to refuse.’
‘You’re mad,’ said Ty.
‘No,’ said the Doctor primly. ‘Just very well brought up. Come on –
if we don’t hurry, the tea’ll be stewed. And there’s nothing worse than stewed tea.’
‘Apart from death at the claws of a thousand otters,’ she pointed out as the Doctor stepped forward and began to descend the slope.
‘Yes,’ he said airily over his shoulder. ‘There is that.’
Down on the mud flats, the half-dozen humans went about their business silently, like robots. And the otters parted further, funnelling