surveyed him coldly. ‘If they do not we shall all die together.’
The Doctor stood outside the spaceship and looked thoughtfully into the sky. He had the curious feeling that he had missed something – something that was staring him right in the face. What could it be? He let his mind thread very gently through the experiences they had had since materialising on this planet; he was not concentrating too hard, and in fact noticed that one of the suns had now gone down and the next was edging toward the horizon. Their speed of travel he did not know, but clearly night could not be far away. How long that would last he had no idea, but guessed not too long. By the time the last sun had gone down the first would be moving round to rise again and that would bring the planet one step nearer to extinction. What was it that chap Bertrand Russell had said? Something about the fact that the Earth’s sun having risen for countless millions of years being no guarantee that it would rise tomorrow. That man knew of what he spoke. In life it was all too easy to take matters for granted and assume that things would trundle along as they always had. But where was the guarantee? Fate had a nasty habit of lulling beings into a false sense of security and then yanking the mat from under them. It had happened before and would undoubtedly go on doing so. It was about to happen here, with quite a sizeable bang. He found himself wishing that he could retain his own mind and this time occupy a body more like Steven’s, compact, muscular, capable of far more than this decrepit creation he was using at the moment. He was tired of it. Sooner or later renewal would come and he prayed that when the time came he would be better served. Something comfortable and capable was what he longed for, something able to do more of what he asked of it. He mused and pondered on the whimsical ways of Fate.
‘Where have you gone, Doctor?’ Vicki asked softly. She had seen him trekking through his own mind before and knew better than to jolt him. He usually came up with something.
‘Ah.’ The Doctor collected his straying thoughts. ‘I was wondering how long the night lasts,’ he lied. ‘Not very long, by the looks of it.’
‘Shouldn’t we be getting on?’
‘A few hours at most,’ he continued. ‘The question is, how long is the intervening day?’
‘Not long enough, considering what’s going to happen.’
‘Quite, quite.’ The Doctor was about to turn away when his eye was caught by the scratches his screwdriver had made in the hull of the ship near the door. He looked closer and sighed at his own slowness. There it was, staring him right in the face. Sometimes he wondered how he had survived as long as he had. Was it pure luck, or did he have a personal guardian angel looking after him? ‘Do you remember when we were captured by that... Chumbley?’ he asked.
‘I’m not likely to forget it in a hurry,’ Vicki said. ‘And that gun it had which fired some sort of light ray?’
‘Yes, of course.’
The Doctor still gazed at the scratches. ‘Quite powerful, wasn’t it?’
Vicki was puzzled. ‘It certainly looked it.’
‘Then why haven’t they used it on this ship?’ the
Doctor mused. ‘After all, if the Rills are such enemies of the Drahvins why don’t they just wipe them out?’ ‘Perhaps the rays won’t penetrate metal.’
‘Oh, they could. ‘I’d guess that a ray as powerful as that would cut through this ship as though it were made of butter.’
Vicki looked along the hull. All she could see were the scars of the battle in space. Yet even they proved something: that the Rills had weapons capable of a fair amount of destruction. Yet they had not used them at close quarters. She shrugged the puzzle away. There was probably a good reason, though she could not even guess at it. ‘Shouldn’t we be going?’
‘Yes, yes, by all means.’
They set off in the direction indicated by Maaga, with no idea of what they
The Doctor stood outside the spaceship and looked thoughtfully into the sky. He had the curious feeling that he had missed something – something that was staring him right in the face. What could it be? He let his mind thread very gently through the experiences they had had since materialising on this planet; he was not concentrating too hard, and in fact noticed that one of the suns had now gone down and the next was edging toward the horizon. Their speed of travel he did not know, but clearly night could not be far away. How long that would last he had no idea, but guessed not too long. By the time the last sun had gone down the first would be moving round to rise again and that would bring the planet one step nearer to extinction. What was it that chap Bertrand Russell had said? Something about the fact that the Earth’s sun having risen for countless millions of years being no guarantee that it would rise tomorrow. That man knew of what he spoke. In life it was all too easy to take matters for granted and assume that things would trundle along as they always had. But where was the guarantee? Fate had a nasty habit of lulling beings into a false sense of security and then yanking the mat from under them. It had happened before and would undoubtedly go on doing so. It was about to happen here, with quite a sizeable bang. He found himself wishing that he could retain his own mind and this time occupy a body more like Steven’s, compact, muscular, capable of far more than this decrepit creation he was using at the moment. He was tired of it. Sooner or later renewal would come and he prayed that when the time came he would be better served. Something comfortable and capable was what he longed for, something able to do more of what he asked of it. He mused and pondered on the whimsical ways of Fate.
‘Where have you gone, Doctor?’ Vicki asked softly. She had seen him trekking through his own mind before and knew better than to jolt him. He usually came up with something.
‘Ah.’ The Doctor collected his straying thoughts. ‘I was wondering how long the night lasts,’ he lied. ‘Not very long, by the looks of it.’
‘Shouldn’t we be getting on?’
‘A few hours at most,’ he continued. ‘The question is, how long is the intervening day?’
‘Not long enough, considering what’s going to happen.’
‘Quite, quite.’ The Doctor was about to turn away when his eye was caught by the scratches his screwdriver had made in the hull of the ship near the door. He looked closer and sighed at his own slowness. There it was, staring him right in the face. Sometimes he wondered how he had survived as long as he had. Was it pure luck, or did he have a personal guardian angel looking after him? ‘Do you remember when we were captured by that... Chumbley?’ he asked.
‘I’m not likely to forget it in a hurry,’ Vicki said. ‘And that gun it had which fired some sort of light ray?’
‘Yes, of course.’
The Doctor still gazed at the scratches. ‘Quite powerful, wasn’t it?’
Vicki was puzzled. ‘It certainly looked it.’
‘Then why haven’t they used it on this ship?’ the
Doctor mused. ‘After all, if the Rills are such enemies of the Drahvins why don’t they just wipe them out?’ ‘Perhaps the rays won’t penetrate metal.’
‘Oh, they could. ‘I’d guess that a ray as powerful as that would cut through this ship as though it were made of butter.’
Vicki looked along the hull. All she could see were the scars of the battle in space. Yet even they proved something: that the Rills had weapons capable of a fair amount of destruction. Yet they had not used them at close quarters. She shrugged the puzzle away. There was probably a good reason, though she could not even guess at it. ‘Shouldn’t we be going?’
‘Yes, yes, by all means.’
They set off in the direction indicated by Maaga, with no idea of what they
Similar Books
