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Ferdy's mother, then later his elder brother, had led a revolution. They had stormed the Emperor's palace, butchered most of his family, scattered the rest. Ferdy's brother had tracked the Imperial Family down through time and s.p.a.ce, killed them where he found them.
Miranda had pieced together the next part. She was the Last One. She was the daughter and heir of the Emperor, and the last survivor of her entire race. Her stepfather, the Doctor, was one too, but one from an earlier period. He was a war criminal, a man who'd destroyed whole planets.
He didn't need to show her the strange (alien) bracelet he wore on his left wrist. He said it was a time machine, with just enough power for a recall signal. Somehow, just looking at it, she knew he was telling her the truth. It was the same feeling she'd had just before she'd fainted a week ago. 'Time sensitivity', Ferdy called it, and it made her sick.
When he told her how John and Kim Dawkins had died, how the Doctor had known all this, she really was sick, into the wastepaper bin. Ferdy watched her, impa.s.sively.
Once she had mopped her mouth with a tissue, Ferdy handed her the knife. It was ceremonial, he said, sanctified by the G.o.ds of War and Legacy. He was meant to kill her with it, he couldn't rest until her blood dried on it, as the blood of her family had. She saw the pitted blade, covered in what looked like rust.
'So, you are going to kill me?' she said, feeling nothing.
Ferdy shook his head. 'I love you,' he said. 'I want you to marry me.
The Deputy edged around the police box, sneaked a glance at the Doctor's house.
The Doctor's car was on the driveway. It was a warm day, so the Doctor and his companion could be in the back garden. He took the detector from his belt. Ferran was inside, upstairs or at least his time bracelet was.
He saw movement in the house. The Doctor and the woman in the lounge downstairs. No sign of his daughter.
There was a flurry of movement, and the Last One was there with them.
Where had Ferran got to?
'Why didn't you tell me?'
The Doctor looked taken aback. He stood in the front room, feigning innocence. 'Tell you what?' he asked.
Miranda clearly wasn't fooled. 'Time travel, that we are aliens.'
The Doctor blanched. 'How?' he asked.
'You did know,' she shouted. 'My parents were murdered, and you didn't even tell me?'
Debbie held out a hand, tried to sound soothing. 'He was always going to tell you when '
'You knew?' she said quietly. 'He told you?'
'I was there,' Debbie said, helplessly.
'Who told you?' the Doctor asked, his voice low.
'I did.'
Ferran was standing in the doorway, just as he had stood while Sallak butchered her husband, Debbie noted. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans. His expression wasn't the sneer she had been expecting: it was almost apologetic.
'She had the right to know,' he said, and this time there was more than a hint of malice in his voice.
'Did he also tell you that he came here to kill you?' Debbie asked.
Miranda nodded. 'He's been completely honest.'
'Stay away from her,' the Doctor ordered Ferran.
Miranda held out the knife. 'He's not going to kill me.'
'She's going to come back with me,' Ferran said, taking the knife back.
Debbie stared at the pair of them.
The Doctor was open-mouthed.
'No, I'm not,' Miranda said.
It was Ferran's turn to look shocked. 'It's your genetic destiny,' he told her.
She was shaking her head, backing towards the door. 'My destiny is to do A-levels, to go to university. To see the world.'
Ferran edged towards her. 'Those were lies: I can show you worlds worlds. You can rule those worlds. We can rule the universe.'
Miranda looked stricken.
'It's your duty,' Ferran told her. 'I told you about the Factions. If we ruled together we could unite those Factions under us.'
'You don't have to do anything you don't want to,' the Doctor insisted. 'There's no such thing as genetic destiny: you can find your own fate.'
'Is that why you didn't tell her, Doctor?' Ferran asked. 'You'll let her come to her own choice, but you won't mention that she's not even human? You won't tell her who and what she is? Were you ever going to tell her? How can she make a choice if she doesn't know all the facts?'
Miranda was staring at her father, daring him to answer.
'You needed to be protected,' the Doctor insisted. 'Protected from things like him. He'll destroy you, or use you for his own ends. If you don't do what he wants, he'll destroy you.'
Miranda stood perfectly still, came to a decision.
'I'm leaving,' she announced.
'You're coming with me?' Ferran said, the relief evident in his voice.
'I'm leaving,' Miranda repeated. 'I don't want this. I don't want any of it.'
Ferran tried to block her. 'You're not going anywhere.'
She tried to struggle free. 'Stay away from me!'
Ferran grabbed her arm. 'Listen to me, I love you. I know you love me.'
The Doctor and Debbie looked at each other.
'I barely know you,' Miranda insisted. She looked back at her father. 'I don't know anyone any more.'
'Miranda,' the Doctor began, edging forward.
'Stay away,' she told him. She shrugged Ferran off her. 'And you get off me, too.'
Ferran was following her into the hallway. The Doctor hurried after them, and Debbie tagged along. 'It's fate,' Ferran called after her. 'It's in your blood. It's who you are.'
Miranda shook her head. 'I don't want any of this.' She unlocked the front door and opened it.
Ferran grabbed at her as she stepped over the threshold, catching the scruff of her s.h.i.+rt. 'You're not going anywhere. I'm right. I'll make you see that I'm right.'
Miranda turned and punched him in the face.
Caught out, he reeled, but he recovered quickly. He drew a knife the knife the knife, Debbie thought and lurched towards Miranda.
Debbie had time only to register the knife (another part of her brain seeing that the Doctor was already moving to help). Miranda's eyes were wide.
But the Doctor had been expecting the attack, and caught his wrist. He pulled him over, and Ferran lost his balance as he stumbled over the doorstep.
Ferran tried to pull free, but the Doctor squeezed his wrist. Ferran was wearing a bangle, which was covered in what looked like b.u.t.tons and lights.
There was an electronic sound, which built and built to a crescendo.
'Wait!' Ferran shouted, 'the co-ordinates aren't set!'
Miranda stood back. The Doctor let go.
Ferran was surrounded by a s.h.i.+mmering blue aura. He was sprawled over the doorstep, holding his hands up as though it was trapping him and he could use the knife to cut himself free. Already he wasn't quite there. Debbie couldn't describe where he was: there just wasn't the vocabulary for it, at least not in English. An instant later, he had gone completely.
The Doctor was heading towards his daughter. 'You're safe now,' he said, the relief obvious. 'We're safe.'
Miranda backed away. 'No,' she said. She stayed outside, in the suns.h.i.+ne. 'You lied to me. You... I can't stay here.' She hesitated for a moment, then turned on her heels, started running up the drive.
'Miranda!' the Doctor pleaded, but she didn't even look back.
And then the Deputy was blocking Miranda's way, aiming a pistol at her chest. He'd been hiding in the bushes.
The Doctor's eyes were wide. 'Keep away from her!'
The Deputy smiled. 'So, Ferran failed in his mission?' Miranda was slowly backing away: he was still at point-blank range.
'Your dispute is with me,' the Doctor said.
'My duty is to kill the Last One.'
The Doctor smiled, relaxed. 'Zevron and Ferran called blood feud on her, not you. You're just working for them. But you declared blood feud on me. Remember? Just after you watched your Prefect die, just after I'd beaten you.'
Sallak stepped out of Miranda's way, to get a clearer view of the Doctor. Miranda hurried past him.
'I'll come for you, girl.' He aimed his gun squarely at the Doctor.
Miranda stopped about ten yards away from the Deputy, looking hack, seeing how she could help.
'Go,' the Doctor said softly.
The Deputy smiled at the Doctor.
'The universe will thank me for this, Doctor.'
'Will it, now?' the Doctor spat. 'It'll send you a card, will it? A thank-you note? Don't flatter me, Deputy, and don't flatter yourself.'
There were sirens. The police were coming.
'It's over, Sallak,' the Doctor said. 'You must have tripped an alarm when you came over the wall.'
The Deputy ignored him.
'Your line ends here,' the Deputy spat. 'I'll kill you, then I'll kill your daughter.'
The Doctor cast a worried glance towards Miranda, who was s.h.i.+fting her weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to do next. Debbie entertained the idea of throwing herself between the Deputy and the Doctor. Taking the bullet for him, like a minor character in a cop video.
The Deputy took a step forward, his face like that of a predator waiting to pounce: weighing up his options, deciding how to do it. In the films, gunmen like this held their pistols at arm's length, and all the hero had to do was bat it out of their hand, but the Deputy held his gun close to his body. Debbie had the feeling that she ought to be running for cover.
There was a flurry of movement behind the Deputy. The gun was being wrestled from him.
Miranda, with a look in her eyes... Debbie had never seen anything like it. Even in films, all those stories about soldiers out to avenge their brothers' or their fathers' deaths, there had been nothing to hint at the intensity.
'She'll kill him,' Debbie whispered.
If Miranda turned her back on this man she'd get a bullet in it. If she stopped for a moment, he would take advantage. He was ancient a pensioner, shorter, older, less fit than she was. But she didn't feel like she was any better. He still had the gun, and every iota of his effort was dedicated to keeping it there.
His arm was high in the air, trying to keep the pistol out of her reach. As she jumped to grab it, and he ducked out her way, it struck her what this reminded her of. Netball Netball. It must have looked like netball.
She had the height advantage. She clutched his wrist, tried to squeeze it, reminding herself that the tactic had worked with Ferdy. Unfortunately, the Deputy didn't just disappear in a blue swirl.
So the Deputy was trapped here. He had nothing to lose.
Miranda was vaguely aware of her father edging forward. She wanted his help, she needed it, but she didn't want to see him shot.
Her elbow came down to break the Deputy's nose, but he was already sinking his teeth into her arm.
She shrieked half pain, half battle cry and the sound terrified her.
This wasn't the way.