Doctor Who_ Winner Takes All - Jacqueline Rayner [47]
Over the other side of the room, Darren was laughing, still half mimicking the stiff‐armed movements of the three people already chosen. ‘Yeah, use the freak,’ he said. ‘Show him what you do to people who threaten you, right?’
But Frinel was turning to look at the ugly man now. Robert looked at Darren too, and was filled with contempt tinged with horror – he was acting as if he was with the monsters; couldn’t he see that he wasn’t, that they weren’t looking at him any differently to anyone else? He thought he was safe, and he wasn’t.
And Frinel said to the other Quevvil, ‘No. That is the controller who will bring us victory.’ He raised a paw. ‘Use him.’ He was pointing at Darren.
It took Darren a few seconds to realise what Frinel meant. Then he began to scream. ‘But I helped you! I told you what was happening. I told you about them and their spaceship! They’d have mucked up everything for you if I hadn’t warned you, the Doctor freak and that little cow!’
But it made no difference. Robert tried to tear his eyes away, but his brain wouldn’t process the request. Toral lifted up the silver box, but then realised that Darren didn’t have a metal disc on his forehead. He gestured at the Quevvil who had come in with the request, and it grabbed hold of Darren. They left the room, a grotesque procession: three people marching inhumanly followed by a Quevvil with the control box held out at arm’s length, then a struggling, ugly man in the arms of another Quevvil, then a further Quevvil following.
The tall man was gazing towards Robert and the group. His eyes seemed to be trying to reassure them, trying to distract them from the terrible sight. ‘No one else, I promise,’ he said, and Robert didn’t know how he could possibly promise that, but he sounded so sincere that he couldn’t help but believe him. ‘No one else after this. I’m going to stop it.’
The door shut behind the procession. Two Quevvils were left, one of them the leader called Frinel. He turned to the tall man and said, ‘Now you will come with me.’ Then he turned to his fellow and said, ‘And bring one of those with us.’ He gestured at Robert and the others.
Everyone froze again. They’d – well, not exactly relaxed, but they’d thought it was over for now. The unlucky ones had been picked. The rest were safe, for a little while longer. But they weren’t.
Robert felt people begin to back away again, not that there was anywhere further for them to back away to. George started wailing again: ‘Not me! Not me!’ Robert looked at him in disgust. Coward, he thought. Coward, coward.
But Robert was a coward too. He’d let other people be taken. He’d done nothing to stop it, nothing to push himself forward to save someone else even at the expense of his own life. He’d let his
don’t think about Mum
He’d let other people do it instead. He was the kid, he should be protected. He was special, he was –
But he wasn’t special. He wasn’t the Chosen One.
And even if he was…
He loved books like that, and telly, and films. He loved stuff where there was a Chosen One, a special person, a hero, and he loved to imagine that one day things like that would happen to him. But there was one thing he’d noticed, and that was that however much the hero seemed to risk his life, all the way through there would be other people risking their lives too, happy to give up their lives so the Chosen One, the hero, could live to fight another day, or do something clever, and everyone accepted that that was just as it should be. Often, the hero didn’t even know their names. He certainly rarely gave them a second thought, after the first brief regret of the loss.
Robert knew he wasn’t the hero, wasn’t special. But looking at this man, the ‘Doctor freak’ as Darren called him, he knew that he was in the presence of someone who was.
He remembered what the man had said about no one else being taken. Well, maybe he was almost right. He was going to put a stop to all this, Robert really believed that. So maybe one more person had to go, and then everyone else would be all