Doctor Who_ Autumn Mist Part 17

'What makes you think you know anything of him? I enjoy such challenges most of all.'

'I'm not blind and I'm not stupid.' He turned on his heel expansively. 'So I thought I'd give him something more... pleasant to trouble himself with.'

'Pleasant?'

'Well, he enjoys challenges too. Adventures, threats to life and limb...'

'What have you done?'

Oberon remained smugly silent. 'That would be telling,' he said finally.

Oberon watched her leave, irritated that she was ignoring his feelings. He was her counterpart, and he enjoyed it. The Evergreen Man was, however powerful and near-immortal, an outsider. An interloper, in fact. Only one person could be the Amadan na Briona Amadan na Briona, to be so freed of duties and responsibilities. He would never surrender the position to anyone else.

Leitz instructed Farber to leave the armoured cars' engines running when he returned to Lanzerath. All he had to do was collect a few files and schematics, and then he'd be ready to meet Lewis's force at the Eifel.

They'd have to put on a good show of fighting, of course, but the important thing was that both of them had enough information about the Sidhe's ability to phase in and out of the world that they could construct equipment to allow men to do the same.

And, he decided, to h.e.l.l with Himmler and his cronies at Wewelsburg. There simply weren't enough raw materials to make use of the Elfenhaft Elfenhaft to win this war, so he wanted only to make sure he had the chance to win the next one, when the West fought the Russians, as he was sure they would. to win this war, so he wanted only to make sure he had the chance to win the next one, when the West fought the Russians, as he was sure they would.

He glanced absently at the gowned medic on his way through the Cafe Scholzen, but paid him no mind, until he realised that the man was wearing a mask and cap in the middle of the mess area.

'Excuse me,' Leitz said slowly. He had the suspicion that it was the traitor, Kreiner, and drew his gun. 'Take off your mask.'

The man turned as if looking for an exit, but a couple of off-duty soldiers had noticed his suspicious actions, and were drifting over. While the ersatz medic was distracted, Leitz s.n.a.t.c.hed the mask away from his face.

All he got was an impression of triangular jaw and flattened ears, before a sweeping arm knocked him sprawling across the floor, as the blurry figure solidified. As everyone reacted to this, the creature darted towards the door, ripping it clean off. Even while frozen with shock, one part of Leitz's mind still realised that it hadn't needed to do that. It had demonstrated such preternatural strength only in order to distract them.

Leitz's first shot exploded bloodlessly into the creature's elbow in a puff of yellow light. By the time Leitz had shot him twice more, the other men in the room had lifted their guns, and opened fire.

None of it had any effect, though Leitz could see some of the shots. .h.i.t the wall on the far side. His theory was correct, then, that these creatures could phase themselves into and out of solidity, unless they were held to one phase by an electrical field.

Farber had the initiative to start driving after the fugitive immediately, and the armoured car was following it towards the woods outside the village.

Breathlessly, Leitz followed his men through the woods. Knowing what he was stalking didn't make him feel any happier. It was far too easy to imagine that he had got things the wrong way round, and that it was he and his men who were being stalked.

Every pool of blackness could harbour one of the creatures that had attacked Lanzerath earlier, or could be a literal pool that would drag him to his death. The shadows cast by the moonlight seemed to be watching him, too, with a simmering intelligence.

He told himself his imagination was running away with him but who was to say that the creatures weren't causing that too? The one he had captured earlier had certainly displayed an ability to affect the mind, by hiding its true appearance. Perhaps they were out there, all around, deliberately inducing hallucinations.

Abruptly, one of his men screamed and fell, prompting several bursts of gunfire above his body. Leitz silenced the gunfire, and rolled the body over. The man was clearly dead, green bile oozing from the corner of his mouth. A tiny dart was embedded in his neck.

Leitz cursed. The dart was small and delicate, like a scale model of an arrow. Poisoned, no doubt. It occurred to him that such a toxin was worth getting a sample of, but, by the time he reached for the feathered portion of the miniature arrow, it had disappeared.

He cursed again. At this rate he would have nothing to show to the occult Circle at Wewelsburg, nor anything with which to bargain his way to the West after the war.

The engines of the armoured car roared, and it crashed through the undergrowth, sideswiping the creature, which suddenly became visible.

Manifestly terrified, one of the soldiers opened fire with a Schmeisser. With the steel of the armoured car trapping it, the creature couldn't phase out to let the bullets pa.s.s through it harmlessly. Pale blood exploded from the creature, and it dropped to the ground.

Leitz whirled round to face the killer. 'Put him under arrest,' he shouted to another soldier. These creatures had to be captured alive for research; what use was a dead one?

Nevertheless, there was one thing Leitz could learn from the corpse, and that was what the things really looked like. Somehow the live ones, even in captivity, managed to be vague and indistinct. Even if you saw them, they looked different every time, and he knew that somehow they were affecting their captors' perceptions.

In death, however, there was no pretence, and so Leitz was slightly cheered as he knelt to examine it.

He almost immediately drew back in disgust.

It was even less human than he had imagined.

'They killed one of us?' Oberon exploded. Like all the Sidhe in the Clan, he had sensed what had happened.

'It happens.' t.i.tania reminded him.

'Not while I am Amadan na Briona Amadan na Briona.' Between Lewis's ignoring Oberon's advice to get rid of the Doctor, and t.i.tania's flirting with the Lord of Time like a mortal girl, Oberon was beginning to wonder if the fates were arranging this to spite him. 'When Men kill any of our number, they declare war. I shall have the Black Dogs released.' That would also slow down the Evergreen Man, he thought, pleased. Since Lewis had not taken his advice to kill the Doctor, he would be punished too, when the Black Dogs attacked his men.

'You have no right to do this without my authority!' t.i.tania protested.

'I have every right. It's my place to do what is felt, and what is desired by our people. Are you going to try to hold me responsible for that?'

t.i.tania swallowed her fury. He was right. He was the Chaos, the outsider, unconstrained by any semblance of Order, so not even she could hold him to account for what he did. How could you demand that irresponsibility be responsible?

He laughed. 'You're beautiful when you're angry: isn't that what the mortals say to flatter one another?'

Lewis sat in horror as the Amadan Amadan told him what he was doing. told him what he was doing.

'But what about my men? They had no part in this.' This bargain was getting more costly all the time.

'Your men, your men, your men...' the voice mocked.

The Amadan Amadan appeared, then, pulling Lewis around in his chair. 'They're only mortals. Normally not worth bothering with. I care not whether they live or die. But...' His face split into a bleak grin, baring needle-sharp teeth. 'They have killed one of our number.' appeared, then, pulling Lewis around in his chair. 'They're only mortals. Normally not worth bothering with. I care not whether they live or die. But...' His face split into a bleak grin, baring needle-sharp teeth. 'They have killed one of our number.'

'The Germans killed one of you. A different mortal... clan.' He hoped that would placate the Amadan Amadan. If he understood that the humans had tribes and clans as the Sidhe did, perhaps he would focus his wrath on the other side.

'Mortals are mortals,' Oberon spat. 'You're not defined clans: your blood mixes. You yourself have the blood of your current enemies. You're all the same to us.'

The Doctor had brought Sam into Garcia's office. 'Are you all right?'

'I'm living and breathing, aren't I?'

'That's not what I asked.'

'I know. I'm... not sure.' She hesitated, not feeling comfortable with the idea of showing him the different skin she had acquired. 'I think that when I came back they changed me. I have some of their flesh as part of me.'

The Doctor nodded. 'It's what they do.'

'What am I, then?' she demanded. 'Am I one of us or am I one of them?' She bit off whatever she was going to say next, and shook her head. 'Or am I just a... changeling?'

The Doctor sighed, and put his arm around her. 'Sam Sam Sam Sam Sam... You're what you've always been one of you. The only one of you, just as unique as everyone else.'

'But these changes they've made... These alterations... Doctor, I've been put through so many b.l.o.o.d.y transformations and transfigurations I've no idea who the h.e.l.l Sam Jones ever was!'

The Doctor took a step back, and pushed his hands in his pockets. 'Sam... Ironic though it is, change is the one and only constant in the universe... And certainly nothing new to you. Do you know how many of your cells are being renewed all the time? Even if you sat in a room doing nothing for a whole year, you'd still technically be a different person at the end of the year than you were at the beginning.'

'Whatever. I'm still just a changeling...'

'No.' A slow smile spread across his face. 'No... From the description you gave, I'd say that you were given a little physical nudge in the right direction, but that you're still you. The closest thing I can think of is that you've... well, regenerated.'.

'What?'

'Oh yes. Some damaged cells rebuilt, your biodata somewhat spliced together... You may have a little Sidhe DNA in you now, but you're still you. You're actually quite fortunate, Sam. You change only from today onward. It's different for a Time Lord. Changes that affect one of my people can affect his past as easily as they affect his present and future. A Time Lord's biodata isn't just a linear structure like your basic DNA. It can change retrospectively and retroactively.'

Sam stared at him. 'You mean it can affect not just who and what you are and will be, but who and what you were were?'

'Yes.' The Doctor smiled. 'Confusing, isn't it?'

'You mean what you are has been changed? Like me?' She frowned. 'You lost a part of yourself, or gained a new side?'

'Depends on one's mood, doesn't it?' the Doctor replied. 'It's a "half full or half empty" kind of question. Now I'm half human and you're half human...' It seemed rather fitting, somehow. 'Does that mean we gained something, or lost something?'

'I hope it means gained,' said Sam.

'That's what I hoped you'd say. Funny thing, regeneration.'

'So... does that mean you could even change s.e.x? Regenerate into a woman? I mean, how would that work?'

The Doctor paused thoughtfully. 'I'll explain later.'

Jeff Kovacs had downed a whole bottle of Jack Daniels at his regular seat in the brothel's bar, and it hadn't stopped him from seeing that d.a.m.n Sherman shimmer and vanish, over and over.

What the h.e.l.l had that been about? Was that what Lewis had been referring to when he talked about gossip? The d.a.m.nedest thing of all was that he couldn't even blame it on combat strain. He had seen it first when everything was calm.

Still, this was war, and Lewis was into developing new things to win it, and Kovacs knew it wasn't unreasonable to a.s.sume that the invisible tank was however far-fetched a comic-book idea it might be some kind of new secret weapon.

No, what really got to Kovacs was some of the things Lewis had murmured to himself when he got back. If Kovacs didn't know better, he would have thought it sounded like Lewis had been meeting with the n.a.z.is.

That opened a whole new can of worms.

And so he had eventually found himself here, on the doorstep of the hotel that Garcia had turned into a hospital. Kovacs wasn't exactly ready to trust Garcia, but the guy had kept his word about not turning him in, so maybe he was OK.

Garcia eventually arrived, and looked as surprised to see Kovacs as Kovacs felt to be here. 'Something I can help you with?' Garcia asked.

'Look...' Kovacs said, and trailed off. It wasn't going to be easy to say this. He had been trained and brought up to respect his superiors. 'It's Colonel Lewis. I think he's been having secret meetings with the Germans.'

Garcia stared at him. 'Why tell me?'

'I didn't know who else to talk to. I can't take it up through channels in case it gets back to him.'

'Do you know who he's been meeting? Peiper, or...?'

Kovacs shook his head. 'Some guy called Leitz, I think. Not sure how high up he is.'

'Leitz?' an oddly dressed civilian in the corner echoed. He smiled. 'Interesting. Come back at dawn, Sergeant. I think we may have some things to discuss.'

'Why not now?'

The man smiled, not unkindly. 'Because I think it's best that you're sober for all this...'

Bearclaw and Wiesniewski had found the time to get something to eat. Neither of them could remember his last hot meal.

'Be nice to get home to the kids,' Bearclaw declared.

'Never met my kid yet; she'll be about a month old, and I haven't rotated back Stateside since before Normandy,' said Wiesniewski, sighing.

'Doesn't it bother you that you've not seen her yet?'

'Yeah,' Wiesniewski declared. 'But I figure it's probably easier for her if I get killed, she'll never know to miss me. Better for her that way.' He shivered theatrically. 'I dread to think what sort of father I'll make.' He had never really been able to imagine himself bringing up kids. It just didn't seem like him. But, now that he had one, he found that there were things he was looking forward to. Seeing his daughter's face when she opened her Christmas presents. Teaching her to read. Things like that. 'I ain't much of a role-model, am I?'

'Let her be the judge of that,' Bearclaw said.

Lewis was examining some aerial photographs of the site on the Eifel that he had agreed for a battleground with Leitz. The Amadan Amadan had been particularly happy with the choice, and for some reason that no longer cheered Lewis. had been particularly happy with the choice, and for some reason that no longer cheered Lewis.

'Checking on the progress of the war?' a voice asked. It was a mild English voice, undoubtedly the Doctor's. Lewis looked up, surprised, to see the Doctor leaning on the doorjamb. Lewis was taken aback, and listened out for any word from the Amadan Amadan, but there was no hint of him in the room.

Lewis smiled in a rather sickly way. The last thing he wanted to do was face the Doctor alone. They weren't enemies, of course, but he had the sort of eyes that suggested he wouldn't approve of some of the things Lewis was up to. Many years navigating through funding committees to get appropriations for his work had taught Lewis that skill of judgement. It was more or less second nature by now.

The Doctor strode forward, and leaned on the desk. His brow furrowed as he peered deeper into Lewis's eyes. 'I see such light in there so much brightness and love of life,' he said, in a surprised but encouraging tone. 'Why do you pretend otherwise?'

Lewis gathered himself quickly, telling himself that the Doctor was talking nonsense, trying to snow him. 'There's no pretence here. These are my... portfolio. Samples of my work.'

'Portfolio?'

'The battlefield is my canvas, Doctor. These photographs depict my work there. My art.'