Doctor Who_ Placebo Effect Part 8

redecorated. For what it is worth, I also own this planet.'

'I am aware of who you are, Mr Carrington. My apologies that you and your Jadean a.s.sistant found yourselves caught up in our democratic expression of our feelings.'

Carrington nodded. 'Sadly, Reverend, under the Galactic Federation's Charter - three nine three two - which I am bound by, I cannot stop your demonstration.' He dragged a finger through the wet dye ruining his white shirt and waved it at Reverend Lukas. 'If, however, my labs discover that there is a single trace element in the composition of this dye that is in any way, no matter how petty, an infringement of Import/Export Duty or Transport of Illegal Goods or, best of all, contains a base substance used in the preparation of any narcotic substance - and that includes a b.l.o.o.d.y aspirin - I will have you deported so fast you won't have time to go back to your hotel and pay my manager for his service. In the meantime, I would appreciate it if you would leave Micawber's World as soon as possible. Or this evening, whichever comes sooner.'

The greenish a.s.sistant - Jadean, was it? - triumphantly punched up a few more details on her pad, then frowned. She whispered something else into Carrington's ear, and Sam could already see a smile crossing Reverend Lukas's face.

'So, may we leave now? My congregation need to get cleaned up.' Without waiting for an answer, the clergymen and women turned as one and walked away.

'Well, aren't you going to charge them?' Sam was furious. 'You can't let them get away with this. They've destroyed Stacy's wedding.'

The Doctor looked at Chase Carrington, who frowned and shook his head.

'They're booked in for the Olympics. And I don't have the necessary power to exclude anyone from that, unless they use firearms. And annoying as the Church is, I sincerely doubt that we'll find anything more troublesome than a few pots of paint at the hotel.' Carrington looked over at Stacy and Ssard.

Stacy was fuming rather than upset. 'My apologies Mrs... er...'

'Warrior?' muttered Sam.

'Yes, well, Carrington Corp will fully reimburse you for this unfortunate incident.' Carrington whispered to his PA and she tapped in a few things.

'How many in the wedding party?'

'Nine,' said the Doctor.

The green PA nodded and pa.s.sed her pad to Ssard. 'You are booked into the Carlton for 9 p.m. The meal is also on us, under Mr Carrington's name.'

The PA turned to the a.s.sembled spectators. 'Please ask you cleaners to use credit code TEN-P, and Carrington Corp will automatically pay the bills.

Thank you.'

'No, thank you. That is surprisingly generous of you, Mr Carrington,' said the Doctor. 'How nice to know that not all businessmen fit the stereotype of uninterested capitalist.'

The green woman turned and stared at the Doctor. And for a second, Sam thought she was doing more than that, staring inside him almost. It was a strange look, and Sam could not actually define what she felt about it, just that it seemed a bit... intrusive. The Doctor must have felt this as well, as he took a slight step back.

'How... interesting,' the green PA said quietly, then smiled at the Doctor.'I'm sure we will meet again.'

'I hope so,' murmured the Doctor, but she probably didn't hear.

Stacy, Ssard and the priest from the church were trying to explain to two very alarmed parents that this was not the normal turn of events in the fortieth century, while the other wedding observers were making their way to their homes or hotels. The two Equinoids and Frankie the Pakhar made their excuses and said they'd meet in the Carlton bar at 8 p.m. The Doctor nodded his agreement and with a smile at Sam, suggested they sort out the bride and groom.

Stacy's parents were calming down slightly and the Doctor proposed retiring to the TARDIS to get changed. They agreed with this, and the Doctor asked Sam to take their guests back there.

'But what are...'

He put a hand on her shoulder. 'I'll meet you all in the Carlton bar at eight, all right?'

If it wasn't, it was too late. His long legs were carrying him far away from the church, in the direction taken by the green lady. Sam gave him one last look and turned her attention to ushering Stacy's parents towards the ship.

But her mind was on other things. Why was the Doctor so keen to disappear? And who was the strange green-skinned woman? She'd given the Doctor a look that suggested... familiarity? No, not really. More like curiosity, as if she could sense he was not quite as human as he seemed from the outside.

Without any real rationale, Sam found that she did not particularly care for this green PA at all. She wondered if the woman was a threat; if she had set a trap, which the Doctor was blindly walking into.

And if that was the case, there was nothing at all Sam could do about it.

Chapter 5.

Jigsaw Feeling

'You're late, Agent.'

SSS Agent Hedges looked daggers at the apparently irritated gate guard.

'Tough.'

The black gla.s.s doors slid aside as the large trolley was shunted forward by two black-clad SSS agents, with Hedges, armed, walking a few paces behind. The scientific and medical staff cast looks of varying degrees of interest at the body on the trolley as it travelled past them. To most it was 'Oh, a dead Foamasi. When's lunch again?' To some it was 'Oh, a dead Foamasi. Where's that come in from?' And for one or two newcomers, it was 'Wow! A dead Foamasi. Never seen one of those. Can I go watch the autopsy?' - to which an older and more experienced person would smile, knowing that after the fourth or fifth xenoautopsy those recruits quickly got fed up with watching the same entrails coming from different cavities.

Agent Hedges waved a couple of straggling medics out of the way as he guided his team through the labyrinthian corridors that laced the lower bas.e.m.e.nts of the SSS Administration Building.

The trolley swerved slightly and was ushered through another set of sliding doors, white ones with a red cross, where it was allowed to stop. Hedges dismissed his two agents but remained with the body while three medics and a scientific team leader busied themselves with whatever they needed to do. One of the medics looked up as if noticing Hedges for the first time.

Unlike the others, he wore skin-tight white cotton gloves.

'Where was it found?'

'About seven kilometres from the Stadium, sir.'

The gloved medic peered towards the dead Foamasi without actually moving closer, as if it was something he expected to see every day.

'Skull pulped pretty efficiently. Oh well, I suppose we better find out if it was dead already.' He clicked his fingers and a small flying drone about the size of a baseball shot towards him, turning on its own axis constantly.

'Case nine oh three oblique delta red. Begin recording. Time and date stamp.'

++CONFIRMED++ chirped the floating ball.

The gloved medic looked at Hedges again. 'Any ID?'

Hedges shook his head.

'All right, Agent Hedges, that'll be all.'

That was the scientist. Hedges nodded his acknowledgement and smartly marched out.

The scientist turned to his colleagues. 'If you need me, I'll be sorting out the reports on this. Any help with an alternate ID would be handy.'

The medics all nodded, although one muttered that this would be Micawber's World's first John 'the Foamasi' Doe.

The scientist turned to go but was stopped by a figure standing in the doorway.

Tall, human, with long but neat hair. Bizarre attire, highly irregular for the SSS Building, but with piercing blue eyes that indicated an intellect. Those eyes were scanning the room, taking as much in as possible.

'Who the heck are you?'

The stranger smiled. 'The Doctor. Why, who are you?'

Ignoring this, the scientist asked for his ID.

The Doctor shrugged.'No ID. Sam carries it. Sometimes. I'm very interested in your patient, however. Saw him being wheeled across the service area outside.'

"That is a restricted area,' protested one of the medics.

'This is a restricted area, too,' added another.

'Where's security?' asked the one who had programmed the remote recorder.

The Doctor just smiled. 'I have full authority you know. Chase Carrington is a personal friend.'

'So?'

'So, this is his planet.'

'And this is an SSS building. Carrington has no control or rights in here.'

The Doctor looked momentarily fl.u.s.tered, as if trying to remember something. Then he smiled. 'All right, how about I say I'm here by the request of SSS Headquarters on Earth? Dal Karlton, that's the chap.' The Doctor walked past the astonished scientist, and smiled at the floating recorder.

'h.e.l.lo.'

++GOOD AFTERNOON++.

'What do we know so far about our Foamasi corpse, my little friend?'

++VERY LITTLE. T-++.

'Desist.' The scientist crossed back to the Doctor, standing between him and the remote.'Describe your relation with Karlton?'

'Actually, I've never met him, and he wouldn't know me from Adam. But let's be honest: name me someone outside the SSS or the Guardian's office who knows his name?' The Doctor stepped sideways and again looked up at the remote.

'Initial prognosis?'

++NOW INVESTIGA-++.

'Desist,' the scientist snapped harshly. 'Remote, total deactivation. Erase all record of case nine oh three oblique delta red.'

++CONFIRMED++.

The remote shot back to the far wall and gently eased itself on to a bench and deactivated.

'Spoilsport,' sighed the Doctor and then turned to the dead reptile. He scooped up a pressure blower and began expertly easing small pieces of ruptured skull apart. One of the medics rushed over to stop him, but the scientist actually held him back.

'If he is a.s.sociated with Karlton...'

The gloved medic relaxed and peered at what the Doctor was doing.'You've done this before, Doctor.'

'An autopsy is an autopsy, no matter who the victim is. This is a particularly nasty case, though. Do you know if he was dead before his head was mashed?'

The scientist coughed.'My medics were on the verge of finding out when you... arrived so unexpectedly.'

The Doctor looked up, and moved the pressure blower so it pumped a strong concentrated burst of air into the scientist's face.'Oops. Sorry.' He moved it away.'Look, why don't you go and talk to HQ and find out all about me? If I turn out to be an enemy agent,I'll surrender to the men in black out there. Otherwise, why don't you let me do this autopsy, eh?'

'Do it?' queried the gloved medic.

'I mean, help whenever asked, of course.'

The scientist gave his medics a final shrug and turned to leave the room.

'Oh, one more thing,' said the Doctor apparently engrossed in his work. 'Do you think this could be the work of the Church of the Way Forward? Only I just saw them demonstrating against a mixed-race wedding, and wondered if...'

The scientist shrugged.'Not really their thing. Bunch of weirdos, seeking Divine Retribution of the Third Coming, or something like that. Most people stay well away from them. Including Foamasi.' He left the room. The Doctor waited until he was out of earshot before conspiratorially looking towards the three medics. 'Pen-pushers, eh? Everything must be signed in triplicate and all that?'

The three medics looked expressionlessly at him - perhaps they didn't have pens in 3999, he thought.'Oh.Well, anyway, why don't you proceed. By the way, I noticed something trapped in the oesophagus.'

Immediately the more talkative medic began probing down the throat with his tiny torch.

The Doctor took a couple of steps backward and without taking his eyes off the now busy medics, reached out, scooped up and then pocketed the remote recorder. He walked forward again. 'Can I do something to help?

I'm very easily bored you see.'

Without answering, one of the medics reached back, clicking his fingers and pointing at a strange metallic object on the sterilisation trolley that resembled a miniature crowbar. Grimacing slightly, the Doctor pa.s.sed it to him.

Then he quietly slipped towards the doors and exited.

Two of the medics didn't notice his departure, but the most talkative one did. But as the Doctor disappeared from view, he merely nodded to himself and smiled.

Almost as if he had been expecting something like that to happen.

'I'm late. Again.'

The dinner table at the Carlton was going to be filling up right about now, and his place would be noticeably empty. The Doctor imagined the choice words Sam and Stacy would be using to describe him right now. He needed to get a move on.