Doctor Who_ Wetworld - Mark Michalowski [7]
In one hand was something that looked like a metallic pencil. Candy realised that it must have been him that had been signalling to her, and that was his torch.
‘Ohhhh,’ the man said, raising his free hand. ‘Sorry! Not a good habit, that, creeping up on people. I don’t know my own stealth, that’s my problem.’
He paused and turned the volume control on his smile down from
‘manic’ to ‘friendly’. ‘Sorry,’ he said again.
‘Wh-who–’ began Candy.
‘Who am I?’ The mad grin returned, and Candy took a step back.
The nutter slipped the torch into his pocket and stuck out a grimy hand. Candy glanced down at it, and so did he.
‘Oops, sorry,’ he apologised again, wiped the hand on his trousers and thrust it out towards her again, dirtier than ever. ‘I’m the Doctor.’
Candy just stared at him.
‘Ooooo-kaaaaay,’ said the man, dropping his hand and backing away slowly. ‘I think you’d be happier if I went and stood over here.’
And he took a dozen paces away from her – and squatted down, wincing a bit at the sogginess of the ground.
‘Where are you from?’ Candy found herself asking, watching his every move.
‘Me? Oh. . . ’ The man seemed to consider the question for a moment. ‘Just about everywhere, really. Well, that is, apart from here.
Not from here. Definitely not. Where exactly is here, by the way?’
‘The Slim Forest,’ Candy found herself saying.
‘Ah. . . the Slim Forest. I take it there’s a Not-So-Slim Forest around here somewhere then? And maybe a Rather Stocky Forest too? Or has that one been renamed the Big-Boned Forest?’
‘What?’
‘Sorry – oh, I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Sor–’
And then he shook his head as if in frustration at himself.
‘It’s just that I’ve lost a friend of mine – back in the swamp. And I’m just the teensiest bit eager to find her and make sure she’s safe.’
Oh, dear God! thought Candy. There’re two of them.
‘So you see,’ continued the man, ‘if you could tell me what planet I’m on, I might have some idea of what to expect out there. I mean, I could go through all that “Red sun. . . narrows it down; point nine Earth normal gravity. . .
narrows it down” malarkey. But it really
would be so much easier if you could –’
‘Sunday,’ Candy interrupted him. ‘It’s Sunday.’ He narrowed his eyes.
‘Sunday the planet?’
Candy nodded.
‘Ahhhh!’ said the man, springing alarmingly to his feet. ‘Never heard of it.’ In the ruby gloom, his shoulders sank. ‘Looks like it’s back to the elimination round, then. Where was I? Oh yes, gravity. . . ’
‘How did you get here?’
The man seemed thrown by her sudden question.
‘To Sunday? Lovely name for a planet, by the way: the day you arrived? Thank goodness it wasn’t Friday – that would have just been silly. Well, my spaceship landed back there. On the edge of the swamp. Before I knew it. . . splosh!’ The words were tumbling out of him almost faster than Candy could keep up.
‘What about your friend?’
‘She was inside the ship. Still is, hopefully.’ The man paused, and even in the gloom, his eyes suddenly looked incredibly gentle. Incredibly fragile. ‘Please,’ he said softly. ‘I need help.’
Candy thought for a moment.
‘It’s too late now – too dark. If your ship’s fallen in the swamp, you’ll need some serious muscle to get it out.’
‘And this serious muscle. . . Is there some around here? I mean, apart from yourself.’ He looked her up and down. Candy found herself grinning.
‘We’ll have to go back to the settlement. Tell them. Let them decide.’
‘Ah. . . the settlement. That’ll be where the smoke’s coming from, will it? Well, it’s a plan,’ the Doctor agreed with a nod. He gestured ahead. ‘Ladies first,’ he smiled, and then grimaced. ‘Ooh, that was terribly sexist of me, wasn’t it?’ And before Candy could take a step, he pushed in front of her.
‘Age before beauty,’ he called over his shoulder as she set off after him. ‘Pot before kettle.’
Behind them, unseen in the darkness, a dozen pairs of eyes watched them go. The final shreds of twilight of the sun caught in them, like