The Romance Of Crime Part 17

And dangerous, of course.' He patted the wall gently. 'These things tend to fall apart rather easily.'

Gjork frowned. 'Ship is good. You be quiet.'

The door of the mess slid open and Pyerpoint was thrown in. The Doctor hurried to his side and pulled him up. Another Ogron stood in the doorway.

'Gjork,' he said. 'Here is another prisoner. We must look after him.'

'Are you all right, old chap?' the Doctor asked Pyerpoint.

The old man straightened his clothes. 'I believe so.' He wrinkled his nose. 'What is that appalling smell?'

The Doctor watched as Gjork and Bnorg sauntered over to the food machine and removed their rations. 'Pasties, warm beer and Ogron doings,' he told Pyerpoint. He looked the judge in the eye. 'This is all a bit of a dog's breakfast, isn't it?'

'They've rampaged through the station, Doctor. I think nearly everyone has got out, either by transmat or in the escape capsules.' He bit his lip.

'Your security isn't very good, is it?' the Doctor pointed out. 'Perhaps you should have listened to us, eh?'

Pyerpoint pinched the bridge of his nose. 'You are a police investigator, Doctor. I have learnt to distrust members of your profession over the years.' The Doctor noticed for the first time how angry Pyerpoint appeared, as if he was forcing down a torrent of rage. He had lost his career and nearly his life in the s.p.a.ce of a few hours, but his concern seemed to be directed at something else. Something that wasn't yet clear.

'The involvement of the Nisbett brothers,' said the Doctor, 'has come as something of a surprise.'

'Indeed,' Pyerpoint said quietly.

'But I happen to have overheard,' the Doctor said confidentially, 'the details of their alliance.'

Pyerpoint became more alert. 'Yes?'

The Doctor outlined what he had heard about Xais's promise to lead the Nisbetts to a rich seam of belzite on Planet Eleven in return for the use of their mining equipment. When he had finished, Pyerpoint closed his eyes and sighed.

'She is lying to them,' he told the Doctor. 'There can be no belzite on Eleven. It's quite impossible, the entire planet is next to worthless. That's common knowledge.'

The Doctor rubbed his chin. 'So what's she really after, eh?'

Romana had moved back to the cavern where the TARDIS had materialized. It was easier for her to work on K9 in the light. She and Stokes were being treated to Spiggot's account of his escape from the Ogrons.

'I was glad of my training, I can tell you. Of course, training on its own's nothing. Instinct's important.' He stubbed out his cigarette on a rock. 'I guess that's my strength.

And perhaps my weakness, too. Follow your nose, and it might lead you to your prey, or you might get it cut off.'

'I'm not sure how much of this I can stand,' said Stokes.

Spiggot misunderstood. 'Try not to get too uptight. I've figured my way out of worse situations than this. This is the easy side of my life.' He ran a hand through his hair. 'It's on the emotional side of things that my talents aren't suited. Take my wife, Angie. I lost her, didn't I, screwed the whole thing up.'

'Yes, I'm sure your marital history is fascinating,' Stokes said rudely. 'But at present my thoughts are, perhaps oddly, rather more preoccupied with my likely demise at the hands of those Orgon things.'

Romana looked up from her work on K9. 'Ogrons.'

To her delight, this word brought about a response from K9. His head raised, his audio sensors twittered, and he said, 'Ogrons. Simian humanoid ectomorphs, h.o.m.o ogronalis h.o.m.o ogronalis.

Natives of high gravity planet known as Braah, located in the outer extremity of Earth's galaxy.'

Romana couldn't help putting her arms around the metallic animal. 'Oh, K9, it's good to have you back.'

'Sentiments reciprocated, Mistress.'

Stokes crouched down next to K9. 'This is your idea of a weapon? What effect do you imagine that will have on the Nisbett brothers? Do you expect them to die laughing?'

Rather put out, K9 extended his nose laser. A bright red beam shot out and blasted a chunk of rock from the wall behind Stokes.

He leapt up. 'Perhaps I was rather hasty in my judgement, er... ?'

'K9,' the dog said proudly. 'Mistress, I am now fully recharged and ready to a.s.sist you.'

'Good boy, K9,' said Romana. 'How are your sensors? Do you think you can locate the Doctor for me?'

She looked on as K9 started to turn a circle, his antennae buzzing. 'It's no use, that thing can't have the range, it's too small,' Spiggot said.

'I don't consider it wise to underestimate K9,' Stokes reminded him. 'His little nose ray certainly seems like our biggest a.s.set at present.'

'Survey completed, Mistress,' K9 reported, coming to a standstill. 'The Doctor Master is located inside the s.p.a.cecraft docked to this station.'

'How is he, K9?'

'His heartbeats are steady, Mistress.'

Romana looked up triumphantly. 'I was right. The Doctor is alive and well.'

'He's on the Nisbett brothers' ship, love,' said Spiggot. 'I don't call that alive and well. I call it alive and being saved up for the toenail job later on.'

Romana turned back to K9. 'Listen, K9. I want you to clear a way to the TARDIS.' She indicated the blocked entrance.

'Orders accepted.' K9 motored eagerly forward and started to blast away the rocks.

Romana stood up. 'I'm going to rescue the Doctor. Are either of you coming?'

Spiggot and Stokes regarded each other coolly. She could tell that each was waiting for the other to speak.

'My dear,' said Stokes. 'You surely can't contemplate such a mission, particularly not alone.'

'Those Ogrons'll blast you as soon as they see you,' said Spiggot.

'How gallant.' She turned to leave.

To her astonishment, she found Stokes following her.

'Wait, wait.'

She turned. 'Yes?'

He dithered for a few moments and said, 'I'll come.' He took her hand. 'There's something about you, Ramona, that I find rather rea.s.suring.' He shot a look back at Spiggot. 'And if I'm going to die, I may as well do it in the best possible company.'

As they walked off, Spiggot called, 'Well, good luck. But I still think you're nuts.'

Alone, Spiggot knelt down and patted K9 on the head. 'Looks like it's just you and me now.'

K9 concentrated on his work and did not reply.

'I don't suppose,' Spiggot continued, 'a computer like you can understand what it feels like to be human. To have flaws, imperfections. All your reactions are printed on a circuit board. You'll never have trouble with the ladies, K9. Do you know, it's crazy, but it's at times like this, when my life's on the line, that I can't stop thinking about Angie and the kids, about where I fouled up. People think that I'm tough, that I can cope, just 'cause they see me beating people up now and then or drinking a bit. They don't seem to understand that I'm a man too, that I've got the feelings and the needs of a man.

That I've got a sensitive side...'

Spiggot carried on. What he didn't know was that K9's audio sensors, which a.s.sessed all incoming data for relevance and possible future usefulness, had switched themselves off long ago.

The screen that dominated one wall of computer control showed the Rock of Judgement's present position in relation to its new objective. Xais sat before the row of shattered consoles, the short nails of Margo tapping navigational data into the guidance systems. Her task completed, she plucked the necessary codeword from Margo's memory, punched it in, and sat back. The screen flicked through reams of computation and settled on a pattern that snaked around the system towards Planet Eleven. Xais keyed in her a.s.sent and the giant thrusters embedded in the other side of the asteroid swivelled in their sockets. The floor vibrated as the new course was established.

Pleased, Xais turned to the Nisbetts. 'All is well. We will arrive in orbit around Planet Eleven in just under three hours.'

She flicked a b.u.t.ton on her console and the screen switched to a view of the station's transmat terminal. It was an unexceptional structure, with a transmission platform raised before a control panel. A couple of Ogrons stood on guard. At their feet were the bodies of workers that hadn't made it to the transmat before it fell to the invaders.

'Good,' said Charlie. 'We may as well get ourselves settled in. I'll have the lads bring over the mining equipment.' He took a small communicator from his inside pocket and flicked the channel open.

'Now,' Xais said, 'I wish to interrogate the investigator. I want to know how much the police know of our operation.

Bring him to me.'

The hard stares of the brothers reminded Xais that they were unused to receiving orders. 'If you would,' she added reluctantly. How she loathed having to abase herself before these insects.

'The Nisbett brothers are mutants themselves,' Pyerpoint told the Doctor. 'Recessives. They are allowed to live in certain areas, but they are not permitted to vote, or a.s.sociate.'

'Then it's no wonder they're so impolite.' The Doctor sat on the floor of the mess, staring into s.p.a.ce. He clicked his fingers. 'Worthless!'

'What is worthless?'

'Helicon. Everyone knows it's worthless. They mix it with Ball's ore and use it to line pipes.'

'I know that,' Pyerpoint said patiently.

'Exactly!' the Doctor cried. 'You know it, I know it.

Everyone knows it. Apart from Xais. Because to her it's the most valuable thing in the universe. It's given her a kind of immortality, although I'm not sure how.'

Gjork, who had been listening to orders on his communicator, strode over to him. 'You, stand. You are wanted by Xais.'

'Ah! Well, it's always nice to feel wanted.' The Doctor stood. 'Let's go, my feet hurt, it must be all that sitting down.'

He was led out by Gjork.

The Doctor was dragged along the deserted corridors of the Rock by Gjork. A further set of instructions from Xais, relayed over the communicator carried at the Ogron's belt, directed them up to level eight. They pa.s.sed the rows of cells, empty for the first time since their construction. If he had been a lesser man, the Doctor might have grown fearful at this point, but dungeons had long ago ceased to worry him unduly.

At the end of a long and straight metal corridor, Gjork lurched forward abruptly and bundled the Doctor through a door set into one wall. It was a small and unimpressive door that led to a large room as bare and grey as everything else in this area of the station. It contained a row of seats, and a platform upon which stood Xais. Her hand rested on a large metal chair that had been bolted to the platform. Directly above it was a funnel-shaped structure that was bolted to the ceiling. The room was antiseptically clean, but it contained a sharp, sweet odour the Doctor recognized immediately as the smell of death.

'h.e.l.lo,' said the Doctor. 'We must have a chat.'

Xais hissed. 'Do you recognize this chair, investigator?'

'Please, call me the Doctor. Investigator sounds far too formal.' He peered at the chair. 'I can't say I do. Is it important?'

She slapped him viciously across the face with the back of her hand. The blow drew blood. The Doctor winced and felt the wound tenderly. 'I don't think that was necessary.'

'Be thankful, Normal,' she warned him, 'that I do not unleash my power to crush you where you stand.' She ran her hand along the back of the chair. 'It was in this chair that I met my death, three years ago. They say the particle reversal process is painless. That is a lie, like much of what Normals say. I screamed as the rays from the reverser bathed my body and I was consumed. Dissipated to the cold winds. But they had not triumphed. I survived, my soul survived, and fled to the mask.'

The Doctor raised a polite finger, as if he were a keen student at a lecture. 'Er, yes, I wanted a word about that, actually. We can't have all this immortality, you know. It makes a mockery of the judiciary if people they've executed keep popping up again and carrying on where they left off.

Fair dos and all that.' He trailed off, aware that Xais might be about to strike him again as she came around the chair.

'You talk like an idiot, Doctor,' she said. 'Why? You are not an idiot, I can tell that.'

'Perhaps I'm just curious. I'd like to know how you pulled off that trick with the mask, actually. And about your choice of material, helicon.'

'No doubt you would.' Xais clicked her fingers and Gjork threw the Doctor into the chair. 'Unfortunately, you are not in a position to ask questions.'

The Doctor settled himself in the chair and crossed his legs nonchalantly. 'I don't know. This is rather comfortable.'

Xais pressed a control built into a panel fixed to the wall and the Doctor found himself fixed to the chair. He cried out as a beam of force gripped him. With a tremendous effort he managed to speak. 'A force field.'

'Which will at least still your flapping tongue.' To the Doctor's pained senses, her voice seemed to come from far away. 'Unless you answer my questions, Doctor, I will operate the reverser. Every last atom of your body will be inverted.

Your blood will bubble, your brain will expand until it seeps through your skull. Your suffering will be amus.e.m.e.nt to me.

My hate is stronger than you could comprehend.'

The Doctor cried out. 'I'll answer your questions. I didn't say I wouldn't.' He twisted his head painfully in an attempt to face her. 'Pardon me for saying so, but you seem to take considerable pleasure in your work.'

She trailed her fingertips almost tenderly across his wounded cheek. 'Oh, foolish Normal, with your idiotic humour. I am going to make you scream for death.'

An Ogron paced up and down outside the docking port leading to the Nisbett brothers' ship, his rifle raised. Occasionally he yawned and revealed his black tongue and rotting teeth.