Doctor Who_ To The Slaughter Part 8

'You're crazy, Kreiner,' Sook said. 'Why would you want to '

'Why would Falsh want to deliberately blow up Carme and put the blame on the poor sods who were only following orders?'

She frowned. 'What?'

'Blazar Demolitions or whoever. Falsh and his cronies have made them take the rap, when they were the ones who rigged it in the first place.'

'And just how would you know that?'

'Take it from me. I know know.' She opened her mouth to speak again, but Fitz raised his hand and shook his head. 'Seems to me Halcyon should be having 44 words with Falsh. Don't you reckon? Before his reputation goes right up in smoke.'

'Along with the rest of the expendable satellites?' Sook's brow was creased.

'If we're to act on this, I'll need proof of what you say.'

'I don't have any. But I reckon I know how to get it if if you take me back.' you take me back.'

Her eyes hardened. 'This is all some big trick, isn't it? Falsh sent you here, you're trying to catch me out.'

'Not likely!'

'You're not likely full stop, are you?' hissed Sook. 'You appear out of nowhere and expect '

'The worst, chiefly. And I'm usually right.' Fitz looked into the flinty grey of her eyes. 'So please, Sook, you have to help me.'

She threw up her hands angrily. 'I thought I already was!'

'Oh, and there's my big blue box in your luggage hold. I'll need that too.'

'Your what what?'

Fitz turned his best puppy-dog eyes on her. 'Pretty please?'

'Kreiner, if you. . . ' Sook broke off. 'Am I completely wrong about you?'

'Depends,' he said. 'Who do you think I '

But before she could say anything more, a door slid open and a slight, slender man sprang out like a jack in the box. Sook leaped about a mile in the air, and Fitz squawked in alarm.

The man grinned. 'It's PadPad time, am I right?' He had large, wild blue eyes, curly blond hair, and looked totally out of it in nothing but a black bodystocking and a smile.

'Roddle,' said Sook crossly, 'you're a d.a.m.ned pain when you score.'

'Halcyon had me load a new template for the thinkset.' Roddle looked at Fitz and giggled. 'For this one, is it?'

'Yeah.' Sook peered at his pinp.r.i.c.k pupils like a disapproving mum. 'Maybe I'd better double-check the PadPad connections, dope-head. Don't want to fry Kreiner's brains not any more than they already are, anyway.'

'Lighten up,' said Roddle, swaying about, dribbling a little. 'I've got stacks of the stuff. Six-hour comedown. Plenty left for you.'

'I could could use it,' Sook sighed. 'How about you, Kreiner. Some H to get you in the mood?' use it,' Sook sighed. 'How about you, Kreiner. Some H to get you in the mood?'

'H? You mean. . . ' Fitz did a double take. This, from straight-laced Sook?

'Er. . . no, thanks.' He felt the familiar urge to just run away from all of this. Stranded on a s.p.a.ceship, his friends G.o.d-knew-where, locked out and alone, forced to take some dumb test he was bound to fail. . . and now he was casually being offered drugs hard enough to dent. Fair enough, Halcyon looked like he'd dressed himself while off his head somewhere, but this Roddle guy and Sook were being so. . . blatant blatant about it. Surely this was the stuff of 45 about it. Surely this was the stuff of 45 clandestine deals and dark alleys? He cleared his throat, ever mindful of his cool. 'Not that I'm bothered about the law, or anything. . . '

'Law?' giggled Roddle. 'What, it's suddenly a crime?'

'What are you talking about now?' Sook gave him a despairing look and ushered him inside. 'Shall we just get all this out of the way?'

He gave a vague smile at the swaying Roddle and followed Sook through into yet another grandly minimalist room. Again, the walls were bare and white, save for an enormous crimson rectangle painted on the side opposite the door. Crouched before the big block of colour was a sculpted couch and a pedestal table upon which rested a small metallic headband and a grey box the size of a ca.s.sette tape.

'You mind an audience, Kreiner?' Roddle called, grinning and wiping spittle from his chin.

'Uh. . . ' Fitz glanced uncertainly between Sook and the couch. 'What's he expecting us to do?'

Sook lowered her voice. 'You mean you haven't haven't used PadPad before? What kind of an art student are you supposed to be? How did you expect to be taken seriously?' used PadPad before? What kind of an art student are you supposed to be? How did you expect to be taken seriously?'

'Stop picking on me, will you?' snapped Fitz. 'I'm not going to play the smackhead like Roddle just to be taken seriously!'

'You're so weird, Kreiner,' Sook complained. 'Can we get on? PadPad's a simple interior design programme. A mental sketchbook. Put on the thinkset and you'll see the template of an empty domicile in your mind. You fill the rooms.'

Fitz looked dubiously at the silver headband she pa.s.sed him. 'And l.u.s.t how do I do that?'

'Use your imagination.'

'Couldn't you just tell me?'

'Quiet!' Sook hissed, clearly losing patience. 'You use your imagination to furnish the domicile. Your choices are recorded on these cells and shot directly into Halcyon's visual cortex so he can image what you've been thinking, right there in his own head.'

'Did I mention I have intimacy issues?' said Fitz, slipping the headband on over his straggling hair.

'Relax,' Sook told him. 'The cells only record what you place in the room.'

She tapped the headset and a spherical screen appeared above his head, like a thought cloud in a cartoon.

'Wow!' Fitz had to admit, it was pretty cool. And then he enjoyed a sudden moment of clarity. Of course! Now he could really convince Halcyon that he was an unpolished virtuoso worth cultivating. With a super-famous decoratiste decoratiste as his ally, Fitz would have no problem getting back to Falsh's s.p.a.ce station. as his ally, Fitz would have no problem getting back to Falsh's s.p.a.ce station.

46.Then he'd just ask Halcyon to get the Doctor off the hook, rescue Trix from wherever she was. . .

Sorted.

He felt quite calm, despite a childhood phobia of examinations. He could do this. Halcyon clearly liked his decor like he wore his hair less was more.

Minimalism. Nothing to it. Chuck a table, a chair and maybe a pot plant in each room and he'd be all right.

'One more thing,' hissed Sook. 'Don't go for minimalism. Everyone tries that. Halcyon will only think you're taking the p.i.s.s.'

'Terrific,' said Fitz, closing his eyes. A large, empty, rectangular room appeared in the cloud above his head.

Quick-draw Kreiner, against his better judgement, was in town.

'Oh. My. G.o.d.'

Trix hadn't been prepared for the view from the c.o.c.kpit. When she'd last come in to check on the Doctor, a few hours back, Jupiter was just a stripy tack pinned to a black backcloth. An interesting sight, but not arresting.

Different story now. The wraparound window was thick with Jupiter. Trix stared at its immensity and felt a nauseating vertigo, like she might overtopple and plunge into the giant bands of whirling cloud. Like sitting in the front row of the cinema, she had to look all about to take it in. There were fat brown and orange stripes, spiralling with white like someone had just poured in cream; whorls of beige and almond, skimming the cloud tops; the staggering storm of the Great Red Spot, an evil eye fixed on them thousands of miles across. . .

And here and there, moons like little bouncy b.a.l.l.s caught in mid-air, casting little black spot-shadows over the planet's tumult. There was even a ring, a vast, dusty arch swung over the planet's bulging equator.

Not the view through some vast telescope. Not a projection on a screen.

Just outside, up close and personal.

Trix staggered back and fell weakly against a pastel wall. 'Are we there yet?'

'Almost. Another ten million kilometres to go. I've computed a direct course for Thebe.' The Doctor was sat at one end of the control console with his back to her. 'Interesting, isn't it?'

She went on staring. 'Interesting? Your mind's about the same size as that thing, and that's all you can find to say about it?'

He looked around at her, frowning in confusion. Then he saw where she was looking, and he laughed. 'Not Jupiter! This, here, on the monitor!' He pushed himself back on his high-tech chair, revealing he'd been crouched over one of the 3D-screens. 'Look.'

Trix dragged her eyes away from the window and walked unsteadily over.

The screen showed a slim woman with a Louise Brooks haircut creeping 47 stealthily into a well-appointed room.

'Hang on, this must be a recording. That's Tinya, isn't it?'

'Correct.'

'And that's here, on board this ship. Falsh's bedroom!'

The Doctor blinked in surprise. 'How would you know?'

'I was having a poke about myself, earlier. He's got the most incredible bed. . . '

'Well, Tinya wasn't there to do his laundry,' the Doctor remarked. 'She's going through his things.'

'Well, she's his public-relations exec or whatever, isn't she? Probably getting something for him.'

'Or trying to get something from from him though she walks away empty-handed on this occasion.' He slyly tapped his long nose. 'She thought she'd excised this evidence, you know. She rigged a glitch in the camera systems and inserted a looped image of the empty room, so Falsh would be none the wiser.' him though she walks away empty-handed on this occasion.' He slyly tapped his long nose. 'She thought she'd excised this evidence, you know. She rigged a glitch in the camera systems and inserted a looped image of the empty room, so Falsh would be none the wiser.'

'Crafty cow. So how did you you find it?' find it?'

'I was looking for any incriminating footage that could help us against Falsh.' He sighed. 'There's nothing on the extant footage, so I've spent the last few hours hacking through the systems and retrieving any deleted files.'

'Make me feel guilty for b.u.mming around sleeping and playing with Falsh's hi-fi, why don't you?' Trix watched the screen as Tinya sorted through desk drawers and computer disks. 'Well, this behaviour could explain why she got the PA to check on Halcyon's ship back at the station instead of doing it herself.'

The Doctor nodded. 'She was getting him out of the way so she could go up to Falsh's offices and snoop around there in peace!'

'Elementary, my dear Watson,' said Trix. 'So you think telling Falsh that one of his execs might be a spy will get us a free pardon?'

'Not really.'

'Me neither.'

'But like I say it's interesting interesting.' He turned off the screen, and his eyes twinkled. 'It suggests a conspiracy within a conspiracy, wouldn't you say?'

Trix put her hands on her hips. 'What did I tell you about getting involved?'

He turned and stared out of the window now like he'd just noticed the view.

Against the vast cloud belts that striped Jupiter's ma.s.s, a moon was looming ominously large. It looked a lot like the Moon, except its ground was darker, its craters snowy white.

'Close now. That's Callisto,' said the Doctor. 'First observed from the Earth in 1610.'

'There you go again!'

48.'Look, with some people it's train numbers or football fixtures,' he said grumpily, 'with me it's moons, OK? You should test me on the Venteuse system, sometime. It's got over a thousand satellites, all named after different flavours of jelly bean.'

'What are they?'

'Well, let me see, there's Peach Ripple, Blackberry '

'No, Doctor, what are they they?'

Specks of light were drifting around Callisto like slow-mo fireflies.

'Other s.p.a.ceships,' said the Doctor, sitting up and taking notice. 'Lots of them. Like flies round a rotten fruit.'

'So Callisto's inhabited?'

'Didn't Halcyon mention that?' The Doctor tutted mischievously. 'See for yourself. Those aren't craters. Not any more. They're conurbations. Must be mainly industrial complexes for that level of s.p.a.ce traffic. . . '

'Could be hotels. Those ships could be full of tourists. . . '

He scowled. 'No one cares about the solar system any more, remember?'

She crouched down in front of him, blocking his view. 'Here for the fireworks! If you're getting rid of sixty-odd satellites. . . it's going to make quite a show, isn't it?'

The Doctor's eyes clouded over. 'Yes, I suppose it is.'

'Maybe Callisto's got the best view. Front-row seats.'

'Maybe. We'd best stay clear.' The Doctor brought up a new screen and made some kind of course correction. 'Those ships could belong to Falsh's new demolition company. They might be watching out for us.'

Trix felt the ship stir as if rocked by a wave, and watched Callisto slide out of sight. 'Maybe. Could. Might.' She folded her arms tight about herself. 'I wish we b.l.o.o.d.y well knew something something for definite. Aside from the fact that we've made ourselves s.p.a.ce enemies number one, that is.' for definite. Aside from the fact that we've made ourselves s.p.a.ce enemies number one, that is.'

'We know something for sure,' murmured the Doctor, eyes glued to the data on the screen. 'This new course intersects a fresh ion trail.' She clutched at the proffered straw. 'Halcyon's?'