Doctor Who_ Wetworld - Mark Michalowski [74]
Believe me.’
‘Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired, Miss Jones,’ he smiled. ‘But you’re getting there. One day you’ll make a great doctor.’
‘With you about,’ said Martha, shaking her head, ‘who needs another one?’
∗ ∗ ∗ ‘Col rigged the election for Pallister?’ Martha asked, as Candy explained what she’d found aboard the One Small Step. ‘Why? It’s not like there was anything in it for him, was there?’
They were making their way, wearily, back to the settlement. The sky had clouded over and the rain was beginning to fall. Again.
Ty shrugged. ‘I think he just needed someone to believe in someone to follow. And I guess we all need someone like that, don’t we? Col’s parents had guided him all his life, and out here I think he felt a bit at sea, so to speak. Pallister offered him some certainties, some structure. I think he was just doing the wrong thing for the right reasons. Or maybe that should be the other way around.’
‘And once he’d fiddled the election,’ Candy said, ‘he couldn’t go back. He wasn’t a bad man,’ she added after a pause. ‘Just a mis-guided one.’
‘That was how slimey got to find out about Pallister,’ the Doctor said. ‘Pallister must have been at the front of poor Col’s mind when he got caught. So straight away slimey knew about the ship’s power core and bombs and what-have-you.’ He glanced at Ty. ‘And I take it, Professor Benson, that there’s going to be no more capturing and caging the jubjubs?’
‘The what? ’ said Martha.
‘The otters,’ said Ty firmly.
The Doctor pulled an I-give-up face.
‘No, there isn’t,’ Ty finished. ‘If I’d known they were as smart as that, I’d never have done it in the first place. And talking! How come I never heard them talk before?’
The Doctor threw a glance at Martha.
‘Blame us for that one,’ he said. ‘You might find that when we’re gone, they’re not quite so chatty. But there’s nothing to stop you from trying. Come up with a completely new language, something you both can understand: imagine how that’d go down in the history books. You could call it Tyrellian. Or ottyrellian.’ He paused and pulled a lemon-sucking face. ‘Nah. Maybe not. Just show them a bit of respect – after all, they were here first – and who knows. . . ? This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.’ ‘Something you know all about, eh, Doctor?’
Martha caught Ty’s eye as she said it, and smiled.
‘Oh yes,’ said the Doctor breezily. ‘Beautiful friendships. You can never have enough of those, can you, Martha?’
‘No, Doctor,’ said Martha dutifully, returning Ty’s smile, ‘you can’t.’
Martha and Ty fell back a little as Candy and the Doctor strode ahead.
‘High maintenance,’ Ty said, indicating the Doctor.
Martha laughed. ‘You said it.’
‘But worth it, honey.’
‘You reckon?’
Ty pulled a face. ‘You don’t?’
Martha could only shrug, smiling.’
‘Trust your instincts,’ Ty said. ‘Isn’t that what the Doctor told Candy?
Just trust your instincts. That’s all any of us can do.’
And striding into Sunday City, Martha felt Ty’s arm across her shoulders.
At the edge of the forest, watching them go, stood a dozen otters, their paws interlinked.
‘I like the tall one,’ said one of them – the one with a soft, grey smudge on its ear.
‘Oh, the one with the yellow fur’s my favourite,’ said another.
‘They are kind of cute, aren’t they?’ said a third, a little wistfully.
‘And easier to train than I’d thought, even if they are a bit dim!’
There was a chorus of nods and giggles.
‘Still,’ said the first one, ‘intelligence isn’t everything. Come on – I want to see their spaceship!’
‘Oooh yes! They’ve got a brain in a box. Let’s go and play with it.’
And, still holding hands, the otters scampered back to the swamp.
These humans were going to be fun! Acknowledgements
Thanks to Justin Richards, and to Gary Russell and everyone in Cardiff for having faith in me – hope I’ve done you proud.
And, as ever, big hugs to all my lovely proof-monkeys: Simon Forward, Mags Halliday, Mike Robinson, Paul Dale Smith and Nick Wal-lace; to Simon Bucher-Jones for sums and