Doctor Who_ War Of The Daleks Part 4

The Doctor joined Balatan by the TARDIS. 'Oh, it's not a starship,' said the Doctor, humbly, and paused before continuing. 'It's not that limited. And it may be small, but we call it home.'

The old man examined it with a critical eye. 'Past its prime, but I'll give you two hundred credits for it. It'll make nice sc.r.a.p.'

'Two hundred credits!' The Doctor was shocked.

'Three hundred, then,' Balatan answered. 'And that's my final offer. And that's good for sc.r.a.p.'

The Doctor drew himself up and glared at the man. 'Sir, this is not sc.r.a.p! It's a Type 40 TT Capsule, and you're never likely to see another in your lifetime.'

'Oh, so that's it, is it?' Balatan scratched his nose. 'Trying to make out that it's an antique to raise the price, eh? Well, it won't work.'

'Doctor,' Loran said hastily, squeezing in next to his father. 'You'll have to excuse my father. He can't help it. He's never had an eye for the finer things in life. Not like you and me, though, eh?' He gave a conspiratorial chuckle. 'I can see that this craft of yours is a sleek, unique model.'

'Thank you,' the Doctor said, levelly.

'Four hundred credits.'

The Doctor rolled his eyes. 'It's not for sale, I'm afraid.' He held up a hand. 'And please don't make any more offers. I wouldn't want to offend you by having to turn them down.'

'You drive a tough bargain, Doctor,' Loran began, obviously not put off. Sam could see that neither man was getting the message. Thankfully, there was a timely interruption.

'Captain Balatan! Over here!'

Sam hadn't realised there was anyone else in the hold with them, but she felt a sense of relief. It had been a woman's voice, so that meant she wasn't likely to be latched on to by the rest of the crew. Maybe she'd misinterpreted Loran's interest in her, and he had had only been trying to be polite after all. only been trying to be polite after all.

The Doctor was the first to move, obviously glad of the respite from the unwelcome bidding. He hurried in the direction of the voice. Balatan and Loran followed, and Sam found herself bringing up the rear.

The woman was examining what looked like a fork-lift truck that had attempted to mate with a crane and become stuck. She slapped it in disgust and turned around. 'The power grid's been shorted out and the lifting gear's...' Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the Doctor and Sam. 'What the blazes?'

'h.e.l.lo,' the Doctor said quickly. 'I'm the Doctor and this is Sam. And you must be...?'

'Chayn,' the woman replied. She was tall and slender, with short-cropped dark hair and a stunned expression on her face that made her look like an overgrown elf. Sam had seen that kind of look on women's faces before. The Doctor sometimes had that effect upon them. It was up to Sam to discourage it.

'What are you talking about, woman?' Balatan demanded, glaring at her. 'Something's wrong with the equipment?'

Chayn dragged herself back to the subject at hand with a lingering glance at the Doctor. 'Um, yes.' She concentrated, and went on, 'It's inoperable.'

'It was fine this morning,' Loran protested.

'This morning, yes,' Chayn agreed. 'But it's been deliberately damaged.'

The Doctor leaned forward to Sam and said in a stage whisper, 'This is usually the part where we get accused of breaking it for some inexplicable reason and then get thrown in the brig.'

Balatan obviously heard this, as he had been meant to do, and he scowled hard at the Doctor. 'Did you do this? You two were in here on your own when we arrived, so you had the opportunity.'

'What did I tell you?' the Doctor asked sorrowfully. He smiled at Chayn. 'Do you mind if I take a look?'

'Go ahead.' Chayn moved out of the way, but not too far, Sam noticed. The Doctor moved past her to examine the interior of the lifter. Sam pushed her way past Chayn to join him, not knowing what she was even looking at.

'Did you do that?' Balatan repeated.

'No,' the Doctor answered. 'Chayn's right, though. That machine's inoperable without some major repairs, and it has been done deliberately.'

'You could have done it,' Loran insisted. Sam could see that he wasn't blind to the effect the Doctor's presence seemed to have on Chayn, and he was clearly jealous. Was Chayn his woman? could have done it,' Loran insisted. Sam could see that he wasn't blind to the effect the Doctor's presence seemed to have on Chayn, and he was clearly jealous. Was Chayn his woman?

'Not really,' the Doctor replied. 'If I'd sabotaged it, I'd have done the job a little more elegantly. This was a typical bull-in-a-china-shop sort of sabotage. Not my kind of thing at all.'

Balatan scowled again. It seemed to be his favourite expression. 'Well, Chayn wouldn't have done it, and I know I didn't. Nor did my son. So who did did do it?' do it?'

'I don't know,' the Doctor said. 'How large a crew do you have?'

'Forty-eight,' the captain replied.

'And do you know where they all are?'

'Not a chance,' said Chayn drily. 'Even if the internal scanners were all working which they never are they're easy to fool if you want to.' She turned to Balatan. 'I believe him, Captain. If he had had sabotaged the unit, he must be stupid to stick around and greet us.' sabotaged the unit, he must be stupid to stick around and greet us.'

'Or very, very sure of himself,' Loran added.

'Oh, I'm never very sure of myself,' the Doctor a.s.sured him. 'I'm quite undependable.' He turned back to Chayn. 'Thank you for believing me, though.' He went on, thoughtfully, 'Why would anyone want to sabotage a lifter, though? Don't you have more?'

Chayn snorted. 'You really haven't been on the Quetzel Quetzel very long, have you?' she asked. 'We don't have spares for most of the equipment on board.' very long, have you?' she asked. 'We don't have spares for most of the equipment on board.'

'Ah.' The Doctor nodded sagely. 'Jerry-built, eh?'

'I'm sorry?'

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. 'And you're the one who keeps it going, I a.s.sume? You must be very inventive.'

'That's enough of that,' Balatan snapped, before Sam could say pretty much the same thing. The Doctor and Chayn were obviously starting to admire each other. 'Do you think you can repair this, Chayn?'

The engineer sighed. 'Before or after the other repairs?' she growled. 'Captain, I can't fix everything.'

'I can,' the Doctor offered. 'If the two of us pitch in together, I think we could get this up and running in a couple of hours.'

The thought of the Doctor and Chayn together for a couple of hours, repairing stuff and getting friendly, was not particularly appealing. 'Doctor,' hissed Sam, 'this isn't our problem. A quick cup of tea, and goodbye, remember?'

'But that would be so rude,' the Doctor protested. He lowered his voice. 'Besides, we didn't sabotage this equipment, but somebody clearly did. Aren't you at all curious as to who or why?'

'Not really.'

'Splendid. So am I.' The Doctor smiled and turned back to Chayn. 'What do you say?'

Chayn grinned back at him. 'I'm game.'

I thought you might be, Sam thought. 'So, what am I supposed to do? Stand around and pa.s.s you both left-handed screwdrivers?'

'No,' the Doctor answered. He lowered his voice so that only Sam would hear. 'Stick with the captain and his son. Be nice to them. Find out what you can.' There was an oddly distant look in his eyes. 'I need to know what's going on.'

Sam was about to protest when Loran moved in. 'What about a spot of dinner?' he offered.

It seemed more like lunchtime to Sam, but the TARDIS's time and local time rarely matched. Her stomach was reminding her of the Mars bar she'd only half finished. 'Reconst.i.tuted muck?' she sniffed.

'Certainly not,' Loran answered, appalled. 'We may not be the smartest ship in known s.p.a.ce, but we don't skimp on the food.'

'Real food?' Sam asked hopefully.

'I think tonight's the Breccan turkey,' Loran said, temptingly.

Real food... Sam was torn for a second between staying and keeping an eye on the Doctor and eating something that wasn't made by a machine. The food was very appealing and the Doctor did need information. 'OK,' she finally agreed. She gave the Doctor one last, doubtful look, but he was already deep in discussion with Chayn about the repairs. Fighting back her irrational surge of jealousy, Sam smiled at Loran. 'Let's go.'

Harmon had watched most of this exchange from the doorway. He hadn't been able to overhear much of the conversation, but he caught enough to realise that the strange man was going to help Chayn with the repairs. That could cause a problem. Chayn alone couldn't fix the lifting gear in less than ten hours, but if this man knew what he was doing, then the time could be halved. Would his allies be here by then?

Maybe another diversion was called for... As Loran, Balatan, and the girl moved to leave the cargo bay, Harmon slipped off, heading back to storage bay eight.

Chayn smiled at this Doctor as they worked side by side. He was good-looking, intelligent, and polite, she thought just about everything she liked in a man. And his delicate hands were quick at making repairs. 'Just pa.s.sing through?' she asked him, as she worked.

'Generally,' he agreed, reworking a circuit board.

'Will you be here long?'

'Hard to say.' He gave her a smile. 'It depends if anything catches my interest.'

Was that a come-on line? With any other man aboard the Quetzel Quetzel, especially that simpering fool Loran, Chayn would have been certain. But with the Doctor, she realised, you couldn't be absolutely sure of anything. That was what made him intriguing. That and the fact that, unlike the rest of the crew, he didn't seem to be a loser in a dead-end job. She'd only signed on to get experience, and had no intention of resigning when this flight was over. She'd take her money and run, fast and hard. And then... could the Doctor have a use for a good engineer?

'So,' he asked, in a seemingly casual fashion, 'what do you need this lifting equipment for?'

'Lifting,' she replied. 'The Quetzel's Quetzel's a garbage scow. We ply the areas of s.p.a.ce where wars have been fought, picking up whatever junk we can find. You'd be surprised how much can survive even a battle intact. What we can use, we salvage, either to repair the ship or to sell. What we can't feeds the engines.' She gestured at the bulkheads on the floor. 'A lot of the technology's salvageable.' a garbage scow. We ply the areas of s.p.a.ce where wars have been fought, picking up whatever junk we can find. You'd be surprised how much can survive even a battle intact. What we can use, we salvage, either to repair the ship or to sell. What we can't feeds the engines.' She gestured at the bulkheads on the floor. 'A lot of the technology's salvageable.'

'And reused,' he observed, gesturing at the circuit board he was fixing. 'This is Draconian, the manifold's Terran and the power source is Dalek. Yet you've got them all working in harmony. You're quite an engineer, Chayn.'

'Thanks.' She found herself blushing, something she thought she'd forgotten how to do. 'And if you can differentiate between the types, you're no slouch yourself.'

'I've picked up a trifle here and there.' He replaced the board and began testing it. 'So, what is it specifically that you're trying to lift?'

'Some kind of a storage pod we picked up,' she answered. 'An unknown type. It was in the wreckage of a Dalek killcruiser, but obviously it doesn't contain a Dalek. We're not sure what might be in it.'

'If it's of Dalek manufacture, it's not likely to be a birthday cake,' he pointed out.

'We know that.' Chayn gave him a smile and inched a little closer. 'I've set up a containment field about bay eight already. Just in case.'

'Smart move,' he said approvingly. He finished testing the board, and moved on to the next, a few inches closer. Chayn liked that. 'Do you think it's possible that the lifter was sabotaged to prevent you from opening the pod?'

Chayn frowned. 'That's possible,' she admitted. 'But only four of us knew that was the plan.'

'Let me guess,' the Doctor said, his eyes sparkling. 'You, the captain, Loran... and...?'

'Harmon,' she replied. 'Our communications specialist.'

'Who isn't here,' the Doctor finished for her. 'Interesting. You wouldn't happen to know if he's been here, would you?'

'No,' Chayn answered, seeing what the Doctor was thinking. She pulled her palm comp from her pocket, and keyed it for communications. 'Faylen? What are you doing there? Where's Harmon?'

Her friend's voice came back, puzzled. 'I'm not sure,' she answered. 'I haven't seen him since he asked me to sub for him. You want me to find him?'

'Please. And Faylen don't let him know, OK?'

There was a pause. 'What is this, some kind of surprise?'

'Something like that. Humour me.' She signed off, and then looked at the Doctor. 'OK, let's a.s.sume that it was Harmon who sabotaged the lifter. Why would he do that?'

'Offhand,' the Doctor answered, 'I'd say it's possible that he might know what's in that pod of yours. And that for some reason, he doesn't want it open.' He gave her a cheerful smile. 'Do you think that, once we're finished here, I could take a quick peek in bay eight?'

'After we're done here,' she told him, 'I'll take you anywhere.' G.o.d, was that too forward?

'Splendid,' the Doctor replied. 'Bay eight it is.'

The turkey was left at the side of the plate, but the vegetables were heavenly. Sam had been intending only to have a quick lunch, and then get back to the Doctor, but eating real food again proved too much of a temptation. Even having to listen to Loran didn't ruin her appet.i.te.

'It's a lonely life out here in s.p.a.ce,' he said, for the third time.

'Then why do you do it?' she asked him, not really caring.

'It's the family business,' he explained. 'All this will be mine one day.' He gestured around the galley.

A broken-down s.p.a.ceship kept together only because Chayn knows what she's doing? thought Sam. What a thing to look forward to. 'It's very tempting,' she said, pretending to empathise. 'Owning your own business and all.'

'Oh, it can be very lucrative,' Loran a.s.sured her. 'Lots of money to be made when you find the right stuff. Anything technological sells for good money these days. Biologics are even better, of course.' He lowered his voice confidentially, so the three other crewmen also eating their dinners couldn't hear him. 'Like the artefact in bay eight.'

That sounded interesting. Maybe even what the Doctor wanted to know about. 'What artefact is that?' she asked, trying to sound casual.

'Don't know really,' he confessed. 'It's what we need the lifter for.'

Sam could put two and two together without much help. 'Maybe that's why the lifter was sabotaged,' she suggested. 'To stop you opening your little treasure.'

'You could be right!' Loran exclaimed, grasping her hand. 'You're smart as well as beautiful.'

Too smart for you, mate, she thought. 'Can I have my hand back?' she asked. 'I'm still eating.'

'Oh. Sorry.' Loran released her. 'It's just that it gets so '