Doctor Who_ So Vile A Sin Part 45

The flat, black triangle juddered to a halt on the tennis court.

The air around it was shimmering with heat.

Kadiatu got out of the plane. She was twenty feet above ground, but she didn't bother with a ladder or any such frippery, she just jumped, dreadlocks trailing. She had on a white jacket, white slacks, white vest. She wore a violently red flower in her b.u.t.tonhole.

She landed neatly on the ground, ran her eyes over the house, saw the Doctor, and started stomping towards him.

Dear diary, to imagine Kadiatu stomping, you have to imagine a panther who's just been given a parking ticket. A genetically engineered, enhanced killer panther with split-second reflexes and a particularly large thorn in each paw.

's.h.i.t,' said Chris. He pulled the door open and ran, getting himself between Kadiatu and the Doctor.

She looked at him, and he turned around and ran back to the house.

I let him in, peering past him through the flyscreen. 'I think I'll just let them have a little talk.'

Jason had come out of the kitchen. 'What's up?'

'Keep an eye on them,' I told him, already halfway up the stairs.

'What do we do if something happens?' he wanted to know.

'Um... keep well clear,' I said, lamely.

It was stuffy in the attic room. I opened a window, and pulled my chair over, back to the wall. Sitting down, I could peer up and 312 over my shoulder to see the Doctor and Kadiatu. I could hear them clearly.

Most of the neighbours could probably hear Kadiatu clearly.

'Wake up, you old b.a.s.t.a.r.d!' she yelled.

I sneaked a peek. She was shaking him, not gently. I heard Chris swear, downstairs, wondering whether it would be a fatal idea to try to stop her.

I saw the Doctor grab her arm. She stopped shaking him.

'Wake up,' she said again. 'I'm not ready to be the Ka Faraq Gatri yet. Wake up.'

'I am awake,' he said hoa.r.s.ely. 'Won't you kindly put me down.'

She dropped him into the wheelchair. 'How did you find me?'

he asked.

She dropped into a crouch beside the wheelchair. 'How long are you planning on sitting there?'

The Doctor's hands smoothed the blanket on his knees. 'It's a very pleasant morning,' he said, after a while.

'There's no one to take revenge on, is there?' said Kadiatu. I wondered if Chris and Jason could hear her as well as I could.

'n.o.body you can blame her death on.'

'She chose '

'That's right. She jumped down into history and history ate her whole. Are you going to take revenge on history? Go back and change something so the whole future unravels? No.'

'They found Walid,' said the Doctor. He lifted his head, as though looking at her for the first time. 'He was just a sh.e.l.l, all that was left after the gestalt was destroyed. They turned off the life-support after two days.'

'So there's no one left to hurt,' said Kadiatu. 'No one except you.'

'I'm the wrong one,' said the Doctor.

'What?'

'I'm the wrong one,' he repeated. 'I shouldn't be here at all.'

'You couldn't have died in her place, so don't be stupid,' said Kadiatu.

'It should have been one of the other ones,' he said. I could just hear him. 'One of the other Doctors in the Nexus. The one who 313 was quick enough to s.n.a.t.c.h Adric from the freighter. The one who arrived thirty seconds before Oscar Botcherby was stabbed to death, instead of thirty seconds afterwards. The one who saved Jan as well as everyone else.'

His head had fallen forward again. 'Don't you see?' he said.

'I'm the wrong one.'

I realized I was in floods. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and prayed that Kadiatu wouldn't give up.

'Wouldn't it be nice if we all had our own little Nexus,' she said. 'And we could pick and choose the way the story ended.

Wouldn't that be nice.'

'But that isn't '

'That isn't how the story ends.'

'I try,' he said. 'I try to make sure the story goes the way it should. That's the whole point point.'

'But you're not always the one who writes the final chapter, are you? You would have written it differently. Not the way Roz wrote it.'

The Doctor made a little sound. I wasn't sure what it was.

'Frightening, isn't it?' said Kadiatu, more gently. 'That someone knows knows.'

The Doctor sat up in the wheelchair. I thought I saw him stroke her hair, like a father, but I couldn't be sure.

'Roz wrote the last chapter,' said Kadiatu. 'What about the epilogue, where the Doctor is so overcome with grief and self-pity that he never does anything, ever again?'

'That isn't how the story ends,' said the Doctor.

'So,' said Kadiatu, 'how does the story end?'Extract ends It had been a few months since Thandiwe had let her robots sleep in her bed. She was seven now, and old enough to have the bed to herself while the robots sat on the end.

Her bots were back on the shuttle, out of reach. There weren't any toys at all. There wasn't even a terminal. It was just a hut, with a bed in it.

314.

Thandiwe lay down on the bed, picking at a thread on the blanket, bored. She could hear grown-ups talking and moving around outside, in the distance. Talking about Aunty Roz.

It had been a year since Aunty Roz had died. She would have spent that time wandering around, saying goodbye to all the people she knew when she was alive. A lot of them were here today, in the big house or the huts. The Doctor was back, and Chris, and lots of their friends that the Doctor had collected and brought here in his blue s.p.a.ceship.

The Doctor had talked to her, earlier today, while she sat on his knee and tried to play with his yo-yo. He wanted to know how much she remembered of things. What she thought about Aunty Roz.

'I'm her clone,' Thandiwe had said proudly.

'And what does that mean?' he'd asked.

'That means I'm a copy of her. Mama says that even though Aunty Roz is an ancestor now, I've got her genes.'

'What do you think about that?'

Thandiwe thought about it. 'I wish I'd got to talk to her more before she went away to the war,' she said.

Everyone had been there that afternoon for the feast. Thandiwe had not been too clear on what was going on, and why everyone was making such a fuss of her. She had thought it was pretty funny when they slaughtered the bull, and Beni had walked out of the kraal, looking an interesting shade of green. That night Beni had eaten a bowl of salad and asked her what she thought of being a medium. She didn't know, and decided to ask Mr Fact about it when she got home.

Mr Fact and Mama had explained some of the funeral to her.

Aunty Roz had been wandering for a year, they said, visiting everyone she knew and saying goodbye to them, and going to all of her favourite places. Now it was time to say goodbye properly.

Thandiwe had begun to fall asleep. Something nagged at her, pulling her back into wakefulness. There was someone else in the hut. She opened her eyes, holding completely still. She couldn't see anyone.

There was only one person it could be.

The Monster Under the Bed.

315.

Thandiwe pulled herself just to the edge of the bed, listening hard. Was that its breathing she could hear? Was it hers? She held her breath until she thought she was going to pop like a balloon, but she still wasn't sure.

All she had to do to vaporize the Monster was to switch on the light it always worked when Mama did it but that would involve getting off the bed and crossing ten feet of dirt floor to the switch. She wasn't sure how far the Monster Under the Bed could reach, and she didn't wish to learn.

It wasn't fair that the Monster had followed her all the way from Io to Earth. Or maybe this was a different Monster. Maybe every bed had one.

There was a flask of milk on the end of the bed. Mama had told Thandiwe not to drink it it was for someone else. She sounded like she expected Thandiwe to know what she meant. Maybe she meant the Monster. Would a drink of warm milk put it to sleep?

Maybe she could smash its head with the flask. She reached for it.

She heard a noise.

Thandiwe froze in position. There was was someone else in the hut someone else in the hut she could hear them moving around. In fact, she could hear them struggling with something, rolling out from under the bed and on to the floor. Struggling, and winning, pinning their opponent down on the dirt and sticking a finger in its face.

Right, they told the Monster, they told the Monster, you're busted. you're busted.

Thandiwe woke up the next morning when the sunlight creeping in through the door reached her face. She lay there for a while, thinking.

When she looked at the floor, she could still see a pale line where she'd poured out the milk, just the way Mama had described. She'd put the flask on the floor with the lid off.

She leant over the edge of the bed and checked. Nothing. No more Monster Under the Bed.

She went out into the sunshine to see if any of the grown-ups were awake. She glanced back at the hut, remembering the words she'd heard? dreamed? last night, just before she'd drifted off to sleep.

316.

Thanks for the milk. Next time, could you put some brandy in it? it?

317.

Ackknowledgements

Kate here. After Ben's troubles with writing So Vile A Sin So Vile A Sin, including a disastrous hard-drive crash, I stepped in at the last minute to finish it. Some of the book survived the crash, other bits existed as printouts, and Ben provided me with extensive plot and background notes to complete the bulk of the story.

I can't match Ben's prose for intelligence, wit and sheer unpredictable style; but I hope you've found my efforts entertaining. I was so desperate to read this book that I'd even write it myself!

I want to thank everyone for their encouragement and good wishes. Special thanks go to my beloved Jon Blum, who not only had to put up with my becoming Stress Kitten Kong as the deadline approached, but also understood the plot when I didn't!

Ben, for his patient help. Rebecca Levene and all at Virgin.

Greg McElhatton and Jon again for read-through and comments.

Andrew Orman, my unpaid military adviser. The experts of sci.astro for some heavenly advice. Jennifer Tifft, poet, costumier and visionary. And Karifa, for not eating his father's telephone.

Special thanks to Special K.

This book was brought to you by the alkaloid caffeine and by the benzodiaprene alprazolam.

318.