Doctor Who_ Trading Futures Part 26

'But we only get one trip.'

'Yes, don't worry. I've got the perfect place in mind.'

He pressed the b.u.t.ton.

In one of the rear compartments of the Concorde, Anji and Cosgrove were examining the corpse of the alien.

Cosgrove had started by checking the weapon the creature had been carrying. But he'd damaged it beyond repair when he'd shot it. He looked disappointed.

'Help me with this armour,' Anji suggested. She was trying to remove the breastplate, but it wasn't budging.

'"What man dare, I dare / Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear / The armed rhinoceros or th' Hyrcan tiger, take any shape but that, and my firm nerves shall never tremble."'

'Macbeth,' Anji said.

Cosgrove looked down at her admiringly. 'Yes. Well done. I always liked the Scottish play. I suppose one good thing about the Learman years was that the schools got their priorities right when it came to English Lit. Your generation was very lucky.'

Anji didn't have the faintest idea what he was talking about. 'After my time,' she told him. 'I did it for GCSE.'

Cosgrove looked puzzled. 'How old are you? I'm sorry if you don't mind me asking.

Anji raised an eyebrow. 'There are some things a gentleman never asks.'

'I'm no gentleman.'

'I can tell, or you'd be helping me with this armour.'

Cosgrove stopped looking at her and started helping. 'It's like it's welded on,' he concluded after a few moments' struggle.

'Perhaps it is.'

He was examining the muzzle. 'There's a nose guard. That might come off.'

It came away very easily. Anji examined it. The front was the same spiky metal rubber stuff. The inside, though, was packed with what looked like glowing circuitry.

'What do you make of that?' she asked Cosgrove, pa.s.sing it over.

'It's electronic.' He poked his fingers in two large sockets, then leaned in to examine the corpse.

'I think these things fitted over its nose.'

He laid it back over the creature's snout. He was right, they were a perfect fit.

'Breathing apparatus?' he suggested.

Anji wasn't convinced. 'Where's the air supply? The tubes?'

'You can get rebreathing devices that are compact.'

'Yes, but there's still a small air cylinder. Look, you can see there just isn't room for one.'

She took it again and turned it over in her hand. The circuits were glowing softly.

'It's active,' she said, then, 'can you smell that?' She held the device to her nose. 'That's really weird. It's like one of those scratch and sniff cards. She could smell flowers, a citrus sort of smell, and also something like woodsmoke.

Cosgrove was looking puzzled. 'I've just got no idea what that is. Look. We should wait for an expert. We could end up damaging it.'

With that, he left, going back to the pa.s.senger cabin, and the free champagne Baskerville had laid on.

Anji sat looking at the body of the alien. She wouldn't put it past it to get up and start charging around. Do that inside a plane in mid*flight, and everyone would die.

Cheery thoughts.

The door to the compartment opened, and Baskerville stepped in.

'What have you discovered?' he asked. He was looking nervous. Then again, Anji was sure she did, too.

Anji handed over the nose guard and admitted she didn't know what it was.

'This is an alien,' Anji told him.

Baskerville nodded. 'Yes.'

'You weren't expecting them.'

'Ms Kapoor, I thought I'd taken every possible eventuality into account when drawing up my plans. Well, I was wrong.'

He poked the alien's head. 'Ugly thing, isn't it?'

'No. Baskerville, I don't think you realise how serious this is. They want time travel.'

Baskerville looked at her.

Anji thought about it a bit more. 'That's got to be it, hasn't it? It's the reason you've got Cosgrove and the President here. They're clearly very advanced aliens, but that doesn't mean they have time travel. So they've come here looking for you, as someone who can give it to them.

'Do you know what fascinates me, Ms Kapoor?' He gave the corpse a good slap. 'This thing came ninety billion light years, or whatever, and it beamed into a hotel room containing amongst others the President of the United States, a very senior member of the European Intelligence Services, and myself, someone who, to the best of everyone's knowledge, is a time traveller from the distant future. With all those people to choose from, they came after you. Why do you think that is?'

Anji had been wondering that herself, of course. 'I don't know.'

'You don't?'

'Possibly because I've been in your time machine? I stood out as someone who'd travelled in time.'

'No,' Baskerville said, too quickly.

'Why not?'

Baskerville hesitated. 'Well, for a start, I went to Brussels with you, remember? And Cosgrove had his trip the day before.'

'Then I don't know.' It had to be the Doctor, she thought. They knew she was a.s.sociated with the Doctor. Or perhaps she stood out because she'd done so much time travelling, or because she was out of her native time, or because she'd crossed her own timeline in Brussels.

Baskerville was examining the corpse. 'There's something in its ear.'

He tugged it out. It looked a lot like an earpiece.

'Some sort of communications device?' Anji asked. She held it up to her ear. 'Yes listen, it's a test signal, it just keeps repeating operating instructions.'

Baskerville took it from her and listened. 'In what language?'

'English,' Anji said, puzzled by the question.

'It's just growling and gargling. You speak alien. There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there, Ms Kapoor?'

She hadn't killed him back on the yacht, because she hadn't had all the answers. For the first time, it dawned on Anji that she was still alive for exactly the same reason.

Baskerville was looking a little starry*eyed. 'I wonder if Dee could get it to transmit.'

'And if she did?'

'Well... a number of new business opportunities would be open to me, wouldn't they?'

'You'd deal with aliens?'

'Wouldn't you? I'm not going to let some politically incorrect nonsense about putting the human race first get in the way of a good deal.'

'They were trying to kill you.'

Baskerville smiled. 'My dear, they were trying to kill you you. Hardly the same thing, is it? Don't worry I need you alive for the moment. After all, you're the only one who understands the language. My organisation is always on the lookout for people with special talents. You can be my chief negotiator.'

Chapter Sixteen.

Dealbreaker The Onihr deputy leader drew in a deep breath, and examined the control gallery.

A room full of highly trained, professional warrior*scientists, preparing for their task. There was no greater testament to their fallen leader than the dedication of those men he had left behind.

The deputy leader wasn't sure he could match up.

Onihrs are immortal, barring attacks such as the one that befell the leader. Immensely long*lived, at any rate. The leader had commanded this ship for thirty thousand years. The deputy leader had served under him for twenty*five thousand of those years. He had not expected to ever become leader himself. He had trained for it, he had the knowledge, but he wasn't prepared prepared.

The humans were vicious things, more vicious even than the databanks had suggested. The tactical a.n.a.lysis hadn't foreseen the death of the leader, so they could be wrong about victory in an invasion.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of the deputy leader's mind, there was doubt. Some instinct that made him question what purpose the invasion would serve.

An act of revenge? Against a primitive species that barely comprehended its actions, that had the merest flicker of s.p.a.ce travel. They were no threat to the Onihrs, and if they ever were to be, it wouldn't be for millennia.

'Deputy leader!' one of the communications technicians barked.

'Yes?'

'The leader's communicator is active!'

The monitor screen parped and the scent of a human wafted over.

Gibbering human language started up, a deeply unpleasant sound.

A moment later, another human voice, but one speaking in the Onihr tongue.

'I am Baskerville. I speak through an interpreter.'

The deputy leader swung his snout to the screen. 'I am the deputy leader of the Onihr race.'

Gibber, shriek, chatter.

'I wish to speak to the leader.'

'The leader is dead, killed by one of you monkey*creatures.' Pause.

Mumble, quack, eep.

'I speak to you through his radio. I did not know it was your leader. I was present at his death. I did not kill him myself, the man that did was acting in self*defence, following the death of two humans.'

'The death of eight billion humans would not justify the death of our glorious leader.'

Pause.

Squeak, squawk, gibber.

'You targeted us deliberately. We have something you want. Please tell us what. We may be able to arrange a trade. There is no need for bloodshed.'

'You sound like the Doctor,' the deputy leader spat.

'The Doctor?' This was the interpreter speaking, not waiting for its master. 'He's up there?'

'Yes.' The deputy leader sniffed the air. 'Somewhere.'

He swung his head around. Where is he?'

Tucked away in his little room, Fitz had got the control box to work.