captain tells you.‟
The woman‟s gaze roamed far and wide as she stood perfectly still. Leela recalled the way Neeva had succumbed to his visions and thought of how the Doctor always dismissed such hocus pocus. There were always scientific reasons, he said.
Kristal convulsed suddenly, beginning a slow fall to her Leela started forward to brace her and came face to face with Kristal‟s trance. Whatever magic or science was in this woman, it had poisoned her eyes.
Martha drew herself up, boots planted squarely in the snow.
„Who the hell are you people?‟
She‟d set out right after Curt‟s call - after she‟d tried Mak a few times on his radio. All she got was static, like the snow had taken over the airwaves along with everything else.
Cheated of any chance to warn Mak, her new priority was to prepare Amber: your Daddy‟s here to see you, honey. Make like the bad news was good. Now here she was, all set to trespass on the ground her little girl believed she‟d kept so secret and sacred, and she finds two creeps poking around.
Lucky for them, the walk from the house had left her slightly breathless and her deadly mood lacked the force of volume to back it up.
They were wearing heavy winter coats, smart and expensive, and they looked at her from behind designer sunglasses.
The woman was petite, even in the coat, soft pale complexion and luxurious dark hair, like in the shampoo commercials, cut in a real cute bob. The man was much taller, rising from an inspection of Amber‟s rock-cleft hideout. His hair was smoothed back, showing off a handsome face that dimpled with a smile as broad as his shoulders. Right now, Martha didn‟t much care for how they looked, but they plainly did.
„Well, howdy, ma‟am,‟ he stepped up to proffer a hand.
Martha wasn‟t sure if the Southern accent was intended to mock her own. She got a lot of that from the kids at the school, but she‟d coached herself to ignore it.
„How do you do, ma‟am,‟ the woman stepped up beside her partner and removed her glasses to show a pair of pretty eyes. „We‟re just looking into something your daughter appears to have found. You are Martha Mailloux, mother of Amber?‟
Right, like her facts needed checking. Martha wanted to tell her there was clearly nothing wrong with her facts and if she wanted any more she should take it up with Makenzie Shaw, whom they no doubt knew was Police Chief around here.
Martha Mailloux handled her own fights though, and if these people didn‟t know that already, they were about to find out.
„I said,‟ she said, „who the hell are you?‟
„It‟s not here, Captain.‟
„Thanks, Derm, I can see that for myself.‟
Morgan Shaw wasn‟t proud to be broadcasting his irritation. He was less proud to be taking it out on his 2IC.
Still, when Lieutenant Dermot Beard had been christened, Morgan reckoned his folks must have intended him to acquire the nickname of Derm. The toughest hide, wrapped round an exceptional, conscientious intellect; going a thousand thoughts per second and revealing itself to the outside world only in a carefully measured gaze and soft-spoken observations. He could take any flak Morgan cared to throw, and he‟d turned down a fistful of transfers so he could carry on doing just that. Well, serve the guy right.
Morgan appraised what little they did have.
The room in which he and most of Derm‟s squad were gathered showed the only signs, as far as Morgan could tell, of attempted renovation to the building by the current -
scratch that, most recent - tenants. It wasn‟t what you‟d call grade A craftsmanship: they‟d simply ripped out most of the floor from the bedroom above, presumably for the effect of a high ceiling, but left the beams in place to collect dust and sprinkle it on the shoulders of the heavy-footed. It was a work in progress, the bones of a chapel to their alien gods.
The pseudo-religious trappings were few and far between: dead candles
The woman‟s gaze roamed far and wide as she stood perfectly still. Leela recalled the way Neeva had succumbed to his visions and thought of how the Doctor always dismissed such hocus pocus. There were always scientific reasons, he said.
Kristal convulsed suddenly, beginning a slow fall to her Leela started forward to brace her and came face to face with Kristal‟s trance. Whatever magic or science was in this woman, it had poisoned her eyes.
Martha drew herself up, boots planted squarely in the snow.
„Who the hell are you people?‟
She‟d set out right after Curt‟s call - after she‟d tried Mak a few times on his radio. All she got was static, like the snow had taken over the airwaves along with everything else.
Cheated of any chance to warn Mak, her new priority was to prepare Amber: your Daddy‟s here to see you, honey. Make like the bad news was good. Now here she was, all set to trespass on the ground her little girl believed she‟d kept so secret and sacred, and she finds two creeps poking around.
Lucky for them, the walk from the house had left her slightly breathless and her deadly mood lacked the force of volume to back it up.
They were wearing heavy winter coats, smart and expensive, and they looked at her from behind designer sunglasses.
The woman was petite, even in the coat, soft pale complexion and luxurious dark hair, like in the shampoo commercials, cut in a real cute bob. The man was much taller, rising from an inspection of Amber‟s rock-cleft hideout. His hair was smoothed back, showing off a handsome face that dimpled with a smile as broad as his shoulders. Right now, Martha didn‟t much care for how they looked, but they plainly did.
„Well, howdy, ma‟am,‟ he stepped up to proffer a hand.
Martha wasn‟t sure if the Southern accent was intended to mock her own. She got a lot of that from the kids at the school, but she‟d coached herself to ignore it.
„How do you do, ma‟am,‟ the woman stepped up beside her partner and removed her glasses to show a pair of pretty eyes. „We‟re just looking into something your daughter appears to have found. You are Martha Mailloux, mother of Amber?‟
Right, like her facts needed checking. Martha wanted to tell her there was clearly nothing wrong with her facts and if she wanted any more she should take it up with Makenzie Shaw, whom they no doubt knew was Police Chief around here.
Martha Mailloux handled her own fights though, and if these people didn‟t know that already, they were about to find out.
„I said,‟ she said, „who the hell are you?‟
„It‟s not here, Captain.‟
„Thanks, Derm, I can see that for myself.‟
Morgan Shaw wasn‟t proud to be broadcasting his irritation. He was less proud to be taking it out on his 2IC.
Still, when Lieutenant Dermot Beard had been christened, Morgan reckoned his folks must have intended him to acquire the nickname of Derm. The toughest hide, wrapped round an exceptional, conscientious intellect; going a thousand thoughts per second and revealing itself to the outside world only in a carefully measured gaze and soft-spoken observations. He could take any flak Morgan cared to throw, and he‟d turned down a fistful of transfers so he could carry on doing just that. Well, serve the guy right.
Morgan appraised what little they did have.
The room in which he and most of Derm‟s squad were gathered showed the only signs, as far as Morgan could tell, of attempted renovation to the building by the current -
scratch that, most recent - tenants. It wasn‟t what you‟d call grade A craftsmanship: they‟d simply ripped out most of the floor from the bedroom above, presumably for the effect of a high ceiling, but left the beams in place to collect dust and sprinkle it on the shoulders of the heavy-footed. It was a work in progress, the bones of a chapel to their alien gods.
The pseudo-religious trappings were few and far between: dead candles
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