chalk, and it was too dark to see anyway. Then inspiration hit her. She could build a little cairn of stones at the mouth of every tunnel she walked along. That might work.
Five minutes and two chipped nails later, she had made her first marker. Now, lip trembling, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she headed into the echoing dark of the tunnel.
She told herself that the whispering voices she could hear in the thick shadows were just her imagination.
III
As Ben opened his mouth to yell at the army woman to stop – a pretty pathetic gesture, but it was all he could think of to do – another soldier ran through the doorway. This one really was a fella, an oriental sort. He wore a headband like the woman, and like her he raised his gun in their direction, but Ben was gratified to see his real attention seemed taken by the figures on the dais.
‘Marshal.’
The woman didn’t react at the sound of his low, calm voice, but she didn’t sound happy. ‘I told you to remain where you were, Shel, covering the entrance.’
‘I thought I heard you scream,’ Shel said, still staring intently at the figures, like they were people he thought he knew.
She snorted. ‘You think I’m the screaming type?’
‘Marshal,
look
.’
‘I am looking,’ snapped the marshal. Her gun was still trained on the Doctor. ‘These aren’t droids. What the hell are these people doing here?’
‘We arrived purely by chance,’ said the Doctor, beaming benignly. Ben didn’t fancy any amount of old-world charm would work against this high-tech old bruiser. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t smile back.
‘Not them, Marshal…’ This was Charlie Chan again. ‘
These
…’
Only now did Shel’s marshal take in the corpse in the chair to her left and the gruesome line-up to her right. After a few seconds her face finally took on some wonder at the sight. ‘Schirr bodies?’
Shel nodded. ‘They’ve been chipped. Criminals. Look at the branding on the chests.’
Ben saw from the corner of his eye that the Doctor was slowly edging towards the TARDIS doors. Not wanting to draw attention to the old boy with his eyeline, he swallowed hard and forced himself to look more closely at the bodies on the dais.
They all looked pretty similar. Each had a broad, round head, mottled pink. The eyes were milky-white and bulging, with pupils dilated to dirty red specks. The ears drooped down like melted wax from the smooth sides of the head, and the nose was a fat blob, nostrils thick with bristling hair. The lips were the most grotesque thing about each face, though: full and thick and rubbery, they lent the creatures a sort of obscenely sensuous appearance.
And now Ben came to look at the burst chest of the one on the far end that had taken Shel’s attention, he could see that there was some kind of weird symbol burnt into the smooth flesh above the wound. Like a long thin rectangle crossed through with a diagonal line.
‘My god,’ the marshal breathed. She lowered the gun and looked at Shel, her face a mix of emotions. ‘What kind of a trick…’
The two of them stared helplessly at the bodies in utter amazement.
The Doctor had reached the TARDIS doors. Ben clenched his fists. What was he doing, they couldn’t go without Polly –
But the doors wouldn’t open.
Ben could see the Doctor pushing with all his strength against them. Then he looked round at Ben, furiously, like it was somehow his fault.
‘No,’ said the marshal, dragging her gaze from the monsters back to the Doctor and looking oddly pleased with herself. ‘No, I don’t think so.’ She raised her gun again, strode closer to them all. ‘The corpses of the most wanted criminals in all Earth’s Empire, just waiting around to be discovered by a military unit on manoeuvres? Not very likely, is it?’
Shel was frowning. ‘But Marshal –’
‘Oh, come on, Shel,’ she sneered. ‘This is a live ammo exercise, remember? DeCaster, dead? And here? It’s a
Five minutes and two chipped nails later, she had made her first marker. Now, lip trembling, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she headed into the echoing dark of the tunnel.
She told herself that the whispering voices she could hear in the thick shadows were just her imagination.
III
As Ben opened his mouth to yell at the army woman to stop – a pretty pathetic gesture, but it was all he could think of to do – another soldier ran through the doorway. This one really was a fella, an oriental sort. He wore a headband like the woman, and like her he raised his gun in their direction, but Ben was gratified to see his real attention seemed taken by the figures on the dais.
‘Marshal.’
The woman didn’t react at the sound of his low, calm voice, but she didn’t sound happy. ‘I told you to remain where you were, Shel, covering the entrance.’
‘I thought I heard you scream,’ Shel said, still staring intently at the figures, like they were people he thought he knew.
She snorted. ‘You think I’m the screaming type?’
‘Marshal,
look
.’
‘I am looking,’ snapped the marshal. Her gun was still trained on the Doctor. ‘These aren’t droids. What the hell are these people doing here?’
‘We arrived purely by chance,’ said the Doctor, beaming benignly. Ben didn’t fancy any amount of old-world charm would work against this high-tech old bruiser. He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t smile back.
‘Not them, Marshal…’ This was Charlie Chan again. ‘
These
…’
Only now did Shel’s marshal take in the corpse in the chair to her left and the gruesome line-up to her right. After a few seconds her face finally took on some wonder at the sight. ‘Schirr bodies?’
Shel nodded. ‘They’ve been chipped. Criminals. Look at the branding on the chests.’
Ben saw from the corner of his eye that the Doctor was slowly edging towards the TARDIS doors. Not wanting to draw attention to the old boy with his eyeline, he swallowed hard and forced himself to look more closely at the bodies on the dais.
They all looked pretty similar. Each had a broad, round head, mottled pink. The eyes were milky-white and bulging, with pupils dilated to dirty red specks. The ears drooped down like melted wax from the smooth sides of the head, and the nose was a fat blob, nostrils thick with bristling hair. The lips were the most grotesque thing about each face, though: full and thick and rubbery, they lent the creatures a sort of obscenely sensuous appearance.
And now Ben came to look at the burst chest of the one on the far end that had taken Shel’s attention, he could see that there was some kind of weird symbol burnt into the smooth flesh above the wound. Like a long thin rectangle crossed through with a diagonal line.
‘My god,’ the marshal breathed. She lowered the gun and looked at Shel, her face a mix of emotions. ‘What kind of a trick…’
The two of them stared helplessly at the bodies in utter amazement.
The Doctor had reached the TARDIS doors. Ben clenched his fists. What was he doing, they couldn’t go without Polly –
But the doors wouldn’t open.
Ben could see the Doctor pushing with all his strength against them. Then he looked round at Ben, furiously, like it was somehow his fault.
‘No,’ said the marshal, dragging her gaze from the monsters back to the Doctor and looking oddly pleased with herself. ‘No, I don’t think so.’ She raised her gun again, strode closer to them all. ‘The corpses of the most wanted criminals in all Earth’s Empire, just waiting around to be discovered by a military unit on manoeuvres? Not very likely, is it?’
Shel was frowning. ‘But Marshal –’
‘Oh, come on, Shel,’ she sneered. ‘This is a live ammo exercise, remember? DeCaster, dead? And here? It’s a
Similar Books
