Doctor Who_ Return Of The Living Dad Part 26

PART THREE.

THE PLOTS THICKEN.

My means are sane, my motive and my object mad.

Herman Melville, Moby d.i.c.k Moby d.i.c.k

In Joel's dream

It's always night-time, for some reason.

In Little Caldwell, the single road is dimly lit by a couple of old streetlamps, by the pale yellow glow from the Pyramid.

This being a dream, he can see Newbury as well. The narrow streets are crammed with cars and people, pushing through the cold and wet. But inside the houses, it's warm in front of the Street Street.

As far away as Calais, people turn away, blinded.

In ten seconds, the fireball has already eaten Newbury and Thatcham. The peace camp and Little Caldwell are puffs of gas, exploding into the sky.

The winds and the flame howl outwards, hurling trees into the air, smashing cottages into the soil, gouging a burnt hole where Berkshire used to be.

In Basingstoke, buildings catch alight as cars tumble across the ground.

In Reading and Hungerford, people's skin burns off where they stand.

In London, a boy switches on the radio. Static. He twiddles the dial. Static. Where are the radio stations? Static.

What's happened? Static. What's happened to the world?

He draws a breath.

As far away as Paris, people turn away, blinded.

21 Albinex...

... looked at himself in the mirror.

He'd turned the illumination in Suite 6 way down, but there was a striplight at the bottom of the mirror. It shone up into his face, doing strange things to the lines and curves.

Albinex turned his head from side to side. The face was familiar now, after all these years. He knew fourteen different smiles and six different frowns, as well as perhaps a dozen sundry expressions. Not that he used them much.

It was the opposite of the way the Admiral used his face, he reflected. Isaac was careful never to let anything show unintentionally.

He turned on the overpadded seat. The Doctor appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

You didn't get a choice of faces, of course. That was randomly selected for you. So it was a little like having a real human face.

His was in its twenties, with pale skin and a few light freckles, dark eyes and dark eyebrows and a small mouth with a tendency to pout.

His face never changed, of course, so he was careful to keep it in fashion. This year he'd dyed his hair, but let the dark roots grow out under the blond. It was swept up away from his face and gelled in position.

Albinex glanced at his wrist.w.a.tch. It had been four hours.

He wondered whether the Time Lord might be faking it. Oh well, he'd get bored eventually.

He'd had the servitors go over the room, even though it had been sealed for years. The tiny robots had gathered up the few specks of dust and had freshened the musty air.

They'd had a go at the bloodstain on the carpet, but it was a bit late for that.

The Doctor was lying on the double bed. He'd stopped snoring when he'd rolled onto his side, shrugging his injured shoulder irritably. Albinex's simulated heart had beaten faster when he'd thought the little man was about to wake up. But that had been an hour ago.

'You haven't had a lot of practice at this, have you?'

Albinex sat up, absolutely rigid, to keep himself from falling off the chair.

The Doctor was watching him from the bed, head resting on his arms. He hadn't changed position, he'd just opened his eyes. There was something slightly amused in them, and something slightly bored.

'How do you feel?' asked Albinex, automatically.

The Doctor sat up and stretched, taking no notice of the weapon his captor was holding. 'Well rested,' he said. 'Lights up.'

Nothing happened. Albinex said, 'The ship's computer is keyed to my voice.'

The Doctor nodded, rotating his shoulder a few times. He yawned, hugely. 'Now what?'

'Now you're going to do a few things for me, and tell me a few things I need to know,' said Albinex.

'I doubt it,' said the Doctor. He was looking around the cabin, mildly interested. 'Can we have some lights? It's a bit glum in here.'

Albinex sighed. 'Lights up,' he said.

The Time Lord took in the plush carpet, the neon tubing, the soft furniture. 'Well, this makes a change,' he said. 'Five-star accommodation. Torturing me in here is a terrible idea.

The carpet will get all sticky.'

'I think you're getting a bit ahead of both of us,' said Albinex. He moved the weapon in a small circle. 'Let's go to the engine room.'

'Why not?' The Doctor hopped up off the bed. Short as he was, he was still two inches taller than Albinex. 'I didn't have anything else to do this morning.'

Isaac was sitting at the bookshop counter, writing in his journal. He was using a fountain pen - a gift from Ms Randrianasolo - scratching out the events of the last couple of days in his careful handwriting.

Benny had been pacing the shop since breakfast, flipping through the occasional book, as though a page might fall open on the answers to all their problems.

The real Lacaillan craft had shown up fifteen minutes later, and they'd seen Myn Jareshth safely on his way. Benny had insisted on waiting for two hours in the bitter cold. There had been no sign of the Doctor.

'None of this should have happened,' she said. Isaac looked up from his writing. 'None of this was supposed to happen. We should have swapped anecdotes over coffee for a couple of weeks. It should have been like an exceptionally dull slice-oflife novel.'

'Perhaps you're drawing an unwarranted conclusion,'

said her father. ' Post hoc ergo propter hoc Post hoc ergo propter hoc and all that.' and all that.'

'Wherever we go there's trouble,' she said glumly. 'The Oncoming Storm, remember?'

'Is it really true, though?' He put down his fountain pen.

'Surely you didn't spend all your time with him battling monsters.'

Benny picked up a copy of Macbeth's Look! Up in the Look! Up in the Sky! Sky! 'Interludes,' she said. 'Interludes,' she said.

'Woodworth didn't even know who he was.'

'Woodworth didn't kidnap the Doctor in a flying saucer!'

Benny shouted. She put a hand to her mouth. 'Woodworth didn't kidnap Jason,' she said, more quietly. 'There's someone else out there. We have to do something. I don't understand how you can just sit there!'

'What do you want me to do?' he said.

'I'm sorry. What the h.e.l.l are we going to do, Dad?'

'Get whatever we can out of Woodworth,' he said. 'Make sure she and C19 don't have anything to do with this.'

'What about Jason? And the Doctor?'

'The Doctor can take care of himself,' said Isaac. 'He obviously knew what he was doing when he ran into that field.'

He raised a blond eyebrow at her.

' I I don't know what he was up to!' she said, exasperated. don't know what he was up to!' she said, exasperated.

'He was waving a divining rod around, for goodness' sake!'

She'd brought the stick back with her, tucked it away in the spare bedroom, as though it was something precious.

'Listen,' she said. 'I want to go to Jason's family's house.

I want to see if he's done something to his father.'

'Why don't you just phone?'

Benny blinked at him.

He pushed the phone across the desk at her. When she reached for it, he took her hand.

'Bernice,' he said. 'We'll do whatever we can to help the Doctor and Jason. But sometimes waiting is all we can do.'

'I obviously didn't get your patience gene,' she said, biting her lip.

She was about to pick up the phone when she saw what the book had fallen open on.

She turned the book around so he could see the ill.u.s.tration. It was a large sailing ship floating in mid-air, a seagull caught in mid-flap in front of the hull. The caption said 'Sky Yacht, artist's rendition'. Isaac looked at her, puzzled.

'It's the ship that took the Doctor,' said Isaac.

'More than that,' said Benny. 'It was there when the Tisiphone Tisiphone fell into the wormhole.' fell into the wormhole.'

Alekto

It was almost noon when Chris woke up. Dull winter light was leaking into the empty bedroom. The air was sharp and cold, his breath curling in white puffs above him. The window was open, just a little.

He sat up. The pain in his head had subsided to a distant buzzing, and the dizziness was gone. 'All right!' he said.

'Back in action.'

He got up and shut the window. The buzzing grew louder. He rubbed the back of his head where it had thumped the floor, squinting in the white light of the sky.