Doctor Who_ Lucifer Rising Part 6

'Trau Bannen,' she said harshly, thrusting a clipboard at him. 'My records show that you've been using more than your allocation of energy. You'll have to cut back. We've only got a limited amount of zyton seven for the reactor, and Earth Central won't sanction the use of any more.'

Bannen s.n.a.t.c.hed the clipboard from her, and watched disbelievingly as the glowing figures scrolled across a tiny screen. 'How can you possibly expect me to run a research programme on the miserly amount of energy you allocate to me?' he yelled. 'It's impossible. I shall take this up with the Base Administrator!'

'Take it up with who you like,' Rabaan spat, her hejab hejab billowing. 'You know the rules. Any energy debt has to be recovered, if not from you then from somebody else. If you can persuade someone else to rea.s.sign their energy to you, fine.' She smiled. 'Although since you have the biggest allocation of anybody, that might be difficult. Otherwise, you're down to half allocation for the next two days.' She looked up at Bannen. Her eyes the only visible part of her face were burning. 'Don't you watch the news? IMC have tripled the price of zyton seven. The other companies can afford it, but Earth Central can't.' billowing. 'You know the rules. Any energy debt has to be recovered, if not from you then from somebody else. If you can persuade someone else to rea.s.sign their energy to you, fine.' She smiled. 'Although since you have the biggest allocation of anybody, that might be difficult. Otherwise, you're down to half allocation for the next two days.' She looked up at Bannen. Her eyes the only visible part of her face were burning. 'Don't you watch the news? IMC have tripled the price of zyton seven. The other companies can afford it, but Earth Central can't.'

The Doctor's left knee was beginning to ache. He recognized that ache. It meant that somebody, somewhere, needed his help. He had a shrewd suspicion who that somebody might be. He had to extricate himself from this scene as soon as he could. 'Pardon me for interrupting such a promising argument,' he said, 'but could you tell me how you collect the energy from the fusion chamber?'

Bannen, still seething, managed to spit through clenched teeth: 'The chamber is lined with photovoltaic cells. They absorb the energy and convert it to electricity.'

'Oh,' the Doctor said, turning away. 'I only ask because the zyton seven hymetusite reaction gives ninety per cent of its energy of fusion up as neutrinos. If you lined the fusion chamber with neutrino detectors, of which there is a surplus sitting in your storerooms waiting for a rainy day, you could increase your power generation capability by a factor of ten.'

With that he was gone, leaving Bannen and Moshe*Rabaan staring after him, open*mouthed.

'Can I have a word?'

'So long as it's a quick one.' Piper slowed to a fast walk. 'I'm late for a meeting with Miles. Can it wait?'

Cheryl screwed her face up in uncertainty.

'I'm not sure. It's about the starsuits. Sam and I reckon there's something funny going on.'

Piper stopped dead. 'Funny peculiar or funny ha*ha?'

'Funny peculiar. One of the starsuit neural nets is acting up. We don't know yet whether it's a bug, a glitch or,' she grimaced, 'some kind of virus. Whatever it is, we need to check all the suits.'

Piper nodded. 'I'll organize a thorough software check straight away. Did you leave the suit hooked up?'

'No, Sam disconnected it.'

'Good. That means we may have isolated the problem before it spreads. Where's Sam now?'

'I guess he must have headed straight down to Moloch Base. He's doing a split s.h.i.+ft half up here with me, half down there. Do you want to talk to him?'

Piper thought for a moment, then shook her head. 'No, not yet. I'll wait till he gets back.' She smiled, and patted Cheryl's arm. 'Don't worry,' she added. 'I'll handle everything.'

'Thanks.' Cheryl headed back down the corridor as Piper opened the door to Miles Engado's office. Miles was sitting on the wrong side of his desk. Across from him, Adjudicator Bishop looked up.

'Ah, Krau O'Rourke,' Bishop said, looking across. 'Just the person I wanted to see.'

Ace awoke to find the Doctor leaning over her. He reached out to touch her temple, and his hand came away red.

'Oh Ace,' he sighed. 'I can't take you anywhere, can I?'

Chapter Five.

Four days. That was the Tewa tradition. Four days of unease before Paula's spirit could rest.

Miles Engado dimmed the lights in his quarters to half strength before crossing to his desk and easing into his seat with a weary sigh. He rested his elbows upon the cool synthetic surface of the desk and cupped his chin in his upturned palms.

Paula.

Paula, Paula, Paula.

What were you thinking? How did you feel? Were you scared? In pain? Did you understand what was happening to you?

Did you think of me as you fell?

Did you still hate me?

Miles moved one hand to touch a heat sensitive area and the surface of the desk became transparent. Lights within the recessed s.p.a.ce played softly across a circle of wood inlaid with stones and festooned with feathers. Miles slid aside a stack of admin schedules, peering into the desk and back into time.

At the beginning of all beginnings our ancestors came up out of the earth until they were living beneath the North Water. The world under North Water was as this one, but dark. Spirits, people and animals lived together; death was unknown.

Miles remembered the beginning of the Tewa story of origin as he had told it to Paula, as his father had told it to him when he was a child. Miles frowned. The words were the same, only this time they did not comfort him as they once had.

'A native American medicine wheel. Genuine, too; the workmans.h.i.+p's beautiful. Did you make it?'

'The wheel has been in my family for seven hundred years,' Miles replied automatically, then turned as he realized he was not alone.

The Doctor took off his hat and held it loosely in one hand. 'I'm sorry to intrude. I did knock, but I imagine you didn't hear me.'

'I was thinking of my of the past.'

'I know. I've brought these for you.' The Doctor reached into his pockets and withdrew a number of articles. 'And Paula, of course.'

As Miles watched in growing surprise, the Doctor laid four different lengths of charcoal and an old leather tobacco pouch on the desk. 'Four days is too long to wait, Miles. Use the charcoal. Draw lines. Break her bowl and let her go.'

'You know of our traditions?' Miles said, amazed.

'I've travelled,' the Doctor said.

Miles's knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the desk. 'And do you believe?' he whispered.

'Do you?' the Doctor replied, and to that Miles had no answer.

'We argued,' he said eventually, 'and she hid the bowl from me. Her spirit cannot be freed until it is found.'

'Then I will help you,' the Doctor said with authority. 'And in return you might help me.'

'If I can.'

'Release control of the security records to me. Those little prying eyes of yours wander all over the base, don't they? I was rather hoping to find out if one of them has spotted something that I might have missed.'

'I'm afraid that won't be possible. I have placed Adjudicator Bishop in charge of the investigation into Paula's death and he has chosen to retain control of the monitors, and their records, for himself.'

'I see.'

'Can you get the information you want from somewhere else?'

The Doctor frowned. 'Eventually. It would just have been quicker to use the monitors, that's all.' He drummed his fingers lightly upon the desk in a complex jazz rhythm, considering. 'Perhaps I'll have a word with the Adjudicator; see if he's amenable to a little friendly persuasion.'

'I have found him to be a reasonable man.'

The Doctor smiled to himself, remembering Bernice's run*in with the reasonable reasonable Trau Bishop. Then he wondered how Ace would deal with the Adjudicator when he chose to interview her in connection with Paula's death, and his smile widened even further. Trau Bishop. Then he wondered how Ace would deal with the Adjudicator when he chose to interview her in connection with Paula's death, and his smile widened even further.

'I am sure he is.' The Doctor replaced his hat upon his head with a deft movement. 'I have to go now. I'll watch out for Paula's bowl.'

The door whispered shut and the Doctor was gone.

Miles was left alone with a desk full of paperwork and prayers, and the prospect of four days of increasing spiritual tension and fear.

Ace fluffed her hair and ma.s.saged her scalp, trying hard to prevent the spread of the tension headache she could feel building behind her eyes. Not a hope. She stretched in the ultrasonic shower, trying to get used to the way the dirt and sweat on her body simply crumbled away, and wis.h.i.+ng for the simple luxury of shampoo. All she really wanted to do was splash great double handfuls of icy water across her face and let the tension drain away with the moisture; to stand breathless and s.h.i.+vering in the aftermath of the cold, antic.i.p.ating a hot towel and a tingling skin rub.

Again, not a hope.

The room to which Christine had showed her led off the Pit and was quite large, if spa.r.s.ely appointed. She had a pneumatic chair and bed, a personal neural net inset in the desk with simularity contact lenses, and somebody had thoughtfully placed an entertainment cube on a freestanding base at the head of her bed. There was no lock on the door, no decorations upon the sloping walls, no windows, no taps and no water. It had no memories. She liked it.

Ace stepped dry from the shower and walked to her bed. As she moved, she was aware that the floor was neither warm nor cool, apparently adjusting itself to her body temperature. She ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck. The odd*smelling brown paste the Doctor had smeared on the lump on her head had dissolved along with the rest of the dirt to leave the swelling reduced and much less painful. She wished the Doctor's questions had dissolved along with his medication. Instead they circled maddeningly in her mind, and she was unable to drive them away.

Am I really being fair to him? she wondered. She'd had plenty of time to think about it during the war, and had still come up with no solution.

She sat on the edge of the bed and listened to the wheeze of escaping air as the item of furniture accommodated itself to her weight. The sound reminded her of the pneumatic hiss made by her battle armour on her first day of combat. At first the noises had been intrusive and disturbing, but she had quickly become used to them, and soon they were like good friends. While the noises remained, the suit had been doing its job of keeping her alive. If they stopped watch out. That was when you'd be wading hip deep in the remains of your friends and dodging selective energy pulses from squadrons of Bombardier Daleks.

Just now she'd felt as if she'd been dodging the selective questioning of her former friend in exactly the same way. What were you doing in Paula's quarters? What were you looking for? What are you hiding from me, Ace? What were you doing in Paula's quarters? What were you looking for? What are you hiding from me, Ace? He was beginning to sound like her old Sergeant Major. Or her mother. He was beginning to sound like her old Sergeant Major. Or her mother.

There was a knock at the door, and Ace found herself again reaching for the gun she no longer carried.

'Who's there?'

'Benny. Can I come in?'

'Half a sec.' Ace grabbed her clothes and began to pull them on. 'Yeah, come on then.'

Bernice popped her head around the door. She waved a hip flask in Ace's direction. 'Want a drink?'

Ace considered. 'What the h.e.l.l.' She accepted the flask and gulped down a mouthful of its contents. She gasped and her eyes popped.

Bernice grinned. 'Warming, ain't it?' she drawled. Ace managed a nod.

Bernice moved to the chair and sat down. 'Heard you clocked out for a while. Thought I'd drop by with a little pick*me*up.'

'If the Doctor sent you to ask more stupid questions, tell him I'm not playing.'

'I haven't talked to the Doctor. I came here off my own bat.'

'There was an awkward silence.

'We need to talk, don't we?' Bernice said finally.

'Maybe.'

'Not "Maybe". Definitely.'

'Yeah, well... Maybe. Anyway, I'm knackered now and I really fancy a kip, okay?'

Bernice frowned. 'It was the war, wasn't it?'

Ace stared blankly at the wall, avoiding Bernice's gaze.

'Take a girl, any girl,' Bernice continued. 'Young, disillusioned, no dependants... Train her up, give her a smartsuit and a big gun... It figures. You were scared at first who wouldn't be? But killing Daleks brought its own comfort, and after a while you realized you were going to be fine.'

Ace whirled to face Bernice, and the archaeologist recoiled from the raw ferocity in her eyes. 'Yeah? Well, so what?' she snarled. 'If anyone deserved to die it was those metal b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. If you could've seen what they did. What they did to women like you or me. What they did to families, to children children.'

'But you enjoyed killing them.'

'I got confused. Killing Daleks should've felt good. But it didn't. I drilled a hole through the motive units of a Special Weapons Dalek once. It couldn't move. Couldn't kill me. Couldn't do anything. I'd used up my last charge on that hammerpulse and I wanted to see if I could steal the thing's energy banks for my own systems. You know what it did? It talked to me. It sat there helplessly while I stripped out its power systems and it begged me to kill it. G.o.d! Both sides are smas.h.i.+ng seven kinds of h.e.l.l out of each other and it's telling me it wants to die. I'd just watched it vaporize a Red Crescent s.h.i.+p full of children, and I could smell them burning there in the darkness, and G.o.d help me I pitied the thing. I just stood there, listening to it crying into the night, until its power ran down.'

Bernice's face softened with compa.s.sion and she made as if to move towards the younger woman.

Ace slid backwards along the bed, hands raised defensively. 'Don't touch me! I'm fine. I don't need comforting. I'm fine.'

Bernice stepped backwards. 'No problem.' She sat back down and Ace met her gaze squarely.

'I'd do anything not to be confused, Bernice. Anything.' Her voice hardened. 'So don't confuse me any more than I am already.'

'No, Doctor. I'm afraid I simply do not trust you.'

Adjudicator Bishop studied the agitated face of the irritating little man standing before him, and felt he was very close to the truth of the matter. If he pushed a little harder, he might find out something useful at last.

'I cannot and will not release control of the monitors to you. Furthermore, any information they may possess is now officially subpoenaed by the duly appointed representative of the Guild of Adjudicators. In case you're wondering, that's me.'

The Doctor twisted the handle of his umbrella in frustration. 'You have to help me. More lives could be at stake.'

Bishop looked thoughtful.