Doctor Who_ The Tomorrow Windows Part 18

The voice drifts by again. A man, tall, in a swashbuckler's s.h.i.+rt and pantaloons is striding along the beach towards me. He's accompanied by two Zwees, one holding a television camera, the other a boom microphone.

He's not my type. There's handsome, and there's Mills and Boon, and this guy is Mills and Boon. Perfect white teeth, a mane of hair and, oh G.o.d, he's spotted me.

He gives a wide wave. 'h.e.l.lo-ah!'

I wave back with my fingers as he bounds up to my deckchair. 'My desperate darling,' he says. 'Has anyone told you, you are fascinating and a wonder to behold?'

'Loads.'

He laughs, too long and too loud. 'Welwyn Borr, madam. At your,' he unrolls one arm downwards like a musketeer, 'service.' He gives the Zwee with the camera a flirtatious smirk. 'The female cannot resist Welwyn Borr's irresistible charms. She is like warm jelly in his hands!'

I lean forward. 'What?'

'For the camera, dear,' he says, out of the corner of his mouth, 'for the camera!'

'What are they doing?' I rummage down beside my chair for my T-s.h.i.+rt.

'They're making a doc.u.mentary.'

'About?'

'About?' Welwyn's eyes widen. 'About me me!'

I tug my T-s.h.i.+rt over my chest. 'Why?'

'Why?' Welwyn considers. 'I'm the worlds' leading terraformer. I've won awards. Which Planet Which Planet's sentient being of the month? Globe Collector Globe Collector, best buy two years running? Total Worlds Total Worlds' "top fifty most influential people in terraforming"? You must have heard of me.'

'No. Who are they making the doc.u.mentary for?'

'For me,' says Welwyn. 'It's important that my life is recorded for posterity.

For future generations to enjoy.'

'And not just for you?'

98.'No. But it would be awful if I said something witty, and it wasn't preserved, wouldn't it?'

'So you never watch this. . . doc.u.mentary you're making?'

'Oh no,' he laughs. 'I never watch myself.' Pause. 'Well, sometimes. Who wouldn't? I mean, come on! I'm ravis.h.i.+ng ravis.h.i.+ng!'

The conversation is losing momentum. Welwyn fixes upon Zwee's sandcastle. 'Beautiful,' he says. 'I used to build sandcastles, you know. As a boy.'

'Really?'

'Could never get them to stay up, though. Tide trouble.' He falls silent then mutters to the Zwee with the camera, 'File under "biographical insight". "The early years". "Formative experiences". "Building towards the dream".'

I pull on my jeans. 'So what does a terraformer do, then, to win awards?'

He indicates the beach. 'This is one of mine. Utopia. But it's more of a show-planet. . . very safe safe. Very middle-of-the-road. Would you like to see some of my other worlds?'

99.Nimbit's Story 'Pull!'

Quaff, resplendent in his herringbone hunting jacket, levelled his shotgun. His monocled eye squinted through the crosshairs. They drifted across the tree tops, monocled eye squinted through the crosshairs. They drifted across the tree tops, over the roof of the groundsman's cottage, and up into the dear blue over the roof of the groundsman's cottage, and up into the dear blue Clear blue, except for a flapping silhouette He squeezed the trigger and gave the d.a.m.n, stinking beast two good, hard blasts. The recoil of the gun thudded into Quaffs shoulder. blasts. The recoil of the gun thudded into Quaffs shoulder.

The creature continued its arc, its arms and legs flailing in desperation, the wind ruffling its long, orange fur. It gave a terrified, drawn-out howl wind ruffling its long, orange fur. It gave a terrified, drawn-out howl Bullseye! The urang monkey exploded in a ball of flame. Caught the blinder by his toe! by his toe!

The hounds yapped and tugged at their leashes. Quaff gave the houndsman the nod, and the hounds were released to bounce among the bracken, chasing the nod, and the hounds were released to bounce among the bracken, chasing each other's tails, sniffing out the remains of the urang. each other's tails, sniffing out the remains of the urang.

Quaff dug into his jacket for some chobacco. He patted it into his pipe, and lit it, sucking in a lungful of lit it, sucking in a lungful of Harbinger of Doom Harbinger of Doom . This was the life, he thought. . This was the life, he thought.

Bright clear autumn day. Leaves scrunching underfoot. Bonfires. Low gravity, seven sec per sec, very relaxing. Frosty bite to the air brought the blood to the seven sec per sec, very relaxing. Frosty bite to the air brought the blood to the blubber, as the saying goes. blubber, as the saying goes.

And monkeys being catapulted into the air. 'Pull!'

Urang shooting was a grand sport. The creatures were vermin you had to get rid of them somehow. Some pansy-livered reprobates suggested using poison, get rid of them somehow. Some pansy-livered reprobates suggested using poison, but that would be going soft You had to talk to the blinders in the only language but that would be going soft You had to talk to the blinders in the only language they understood. Fire them into the air and shoot at them. they understood. Fire them into the air and shoot at them.

The latest monkey arced overhead, back-pedalling with its legs as though it might develop the power of flight. might develop the power of flight.

No such luck! Quaff pulled the trigger and the monkey exploded. The hounds yapped in delight as charred limbs rained from the sky. yapped in delight as charred limbs rained from the sky.

What the pansy-livered reprobates didn't understand, you see, was the nature of sport. If you poisoned the monkeys, they'd just crawl around a bit and die. of sport. If you poisoned the monkeys, they'd just crawl around a bit and die.

Where would be the fun in that? No, they had to be rounded up and shoved into catapults. That was catapults. That was sport sport . .

Quaff noticed his son approaching. The little blinder's skin still speckled with pink. As he breasted the summit of the hill, he dropped his monocle. d.a.m.n fool pink. As he breasted the summit of the hill, he dropped his monocle. d.a.m.n fool 100 100 boy.

'Pull!' Blam! Monkey.

'h.e.l.lo, Father,' said Nimbit. 'You're in homicidal fettle today.'

'd.a.m.n straight I am. Never miss a shoot if I can help it. What do you want, young fruit?' young fruit?'

The young walrus wiped his moustache. 'You asked for me, Father?'

'Did I? Pull! I did?' A monkey exploded. 'I did. Wanted you to take a look at all this.' all this.'

'All this?'

Quaff gestured to indicate the expansive hills, the hedgerows, the wood. The snapping bonfires. The hounds bouncing about as though in slow motion. The snapping bonfires. The hounds bouncing about as though in slow motion. The manor house rising out of the mist. The struggling monkey being manhandled manor house rising out of the mist. The struggling monkey being manhandled into a catapult. into a catapult.

'Didn't come easy, y'know,' said Quaff breaking his rifle. 'Had to sweat for it.

d.a.m.n hard, too.'

'Yes, Father.'

'Interplanetary property speculation. n.o.blest profession of them all, son. Buy low, sell high. Only way.' low, sell high. Only way.'

'Yes, Father.'

'Buy high, sell low recipe for disaster.'

'Yes, Father.'

Quaff turned to his only offspring. 'D'you know what I started with, Nimbit, d'you?' d'you?'

'Nothing?'

'Didn't have a bean to rub together. Made me the freakish walrus-human hybrid I am today.' Quaff sucked in some more chobacco. 'Been thinking a lot hybrid I am today.' Quaff sucked in some more chobacco. 'Been thinking a lot about your inheritance.' about your inheritance.'

'My inheritance, Father?'

'Keen on you to follow in the old progenitor's footsteps. I started with nothing and ended up with all this. So that's what I'm giving you.' and ended up with all this. So that's what I'm giving you.'

'What?' Nimbit was shocked 'All this?'

'No,' said Quaff. 'Nothing.'

'What?'

'Thought I'd give you the same opportunity I had. Go out into the world, son, and make something of yourself, because what you are at the moment is, son, and make something of yourself, because what you are at the moment is, quite frankly, unacceptable. No,' Quaff lifted his rifle, 'when I die, I've made quite frankly, unacceptable. No,' Quaff lifted his rifle, 'when I die, I've made arrangements to have all my wealth destroyed in a pointless explosion. After all, arrangements to have all my wealth destroyed in a pointless explosion. After all, can't take it with you. Pull!' can't take it with you. Pull!'

'Thank you, Father,' said Nimbit.

'Now sod off,' said Quaff and shot another monkey.

101.

'The bidding stands at twelve million Arcturan ultra-pods. Do I hear thirteen?'

Charlton glanced about the room. Despite his disapproval of the trade in planets, he was enjoying himself.

The bidding was between Micron and Nimbit. The walrus creature kept on clearing its throat and taking sips of water. It noticed Charlton's attention and glared at him through its monocle.

It was, of course, impossible to gauge Micron's mood. All that occurred at that end of the table was that one of the attendants would listen to to his earphone with an expression of intense concentration. Then he would nod and fold his muscular arms. his earphone with an expression of intense concentration. Then he would nod and fold his muscular arms.

Vors.h.a.gg had made one bid but had given up. The creature snarled at nothing in particular, its tongue lolling its way along its teeth. Charlton noticed the white box attached to the side of its head, and wondered what purpose it served.

Poozle remained silent in fact, Charlton realised, he hadn't spoken a word since they'd entered and Question Intonation merely buzzed about the ceiling giving supercilious snorts, as though it had never been interested in bidding for Valuensis in the first place.

'Do I hear any more?' said Dittero with an expectant smile.

The Doctor sat upright. He waggled his fingers, as though about to bid, but then decided against it. He looked left and right, left and right, as though in deep thought, then thought better of it and helped himself to another biscuit.

'Th-th-thirteen,' stammered Nimbit. He cleared his throat. 'Thirteen. Thirteen million Arcturan ultra-pods.'

'Thirteen, with Nimbit.'

'Fourteen,' piped Poozle from out of nowhere. All eyes, monocles and eyeless furry b.a.l.l.s turned towards the gla.s.s cylinder. 'Fourteen mirrion mirrion!'

'Fifteen,' struggled Nimbit.

'Sixteen!'

As Poozle spoke, the Doctor gazed at the creature, then over at Dittero, who was drumming his fingers on his clipboard. The Doctor's lips drew back into a grin.

'Seventeen.'

The delegates' attention turned back to Poozle. Charlton watched as one globule distended itself and floated upwards.

There was a tapping from the other end of the table. Charlton looked across.

One of Micron's attendants waited until he had the attention of the whole room before speaking. 'Twenty.'

'Twenty-one,' croaked Nimbit.

Question Intonation squealed in excitement. It was a very annoying alien, thought Charlton. It always had to be the centre of attention.

102.

The Doctor turned to Dittero. Dittero was fiddling with his clipboard. The Doctor watched him, amus.e.m.e.nt and curiosity twinkling in his eyes.

'May I make a lequest?' said Poozle.

'Yes?' said Dittero, raising a palm to indicate he wasn't addressing Question Intonation.

'I wish to lequest an adjournment,' said the cylinder. 'While I check with my financial backers.'

'This is most atypical. . . ' began Dittero.

'No adjournment!' The Doctor grinned like a child at the theatre. 'It was just getting exciting!'

'If the majority of. . . partic.i.p.ating partic.i.p.ating bidders wish to agree to an adjournment, then it may proceed. What is the will of the Fabulous Micron?' bidders wish to agree to an adjournment, then it may proceed. What is the will of the Fabulous Micron?'

One of Micron's attendants listened to his earphone. 'The Fabulous Micron a.s.sents.'

'Nimbit?'

Nimbit fidgeted in his chair, his forehead glistening. 'If you wish.'

'Then may I posit posit we reconvene, here, in one hour?' said Dittero, tapping upon his clipboard. Poozle levitated itself over to the main doors and disappeared from the room. we reconvene, here, in one hour?' said Dittero, tapping upon his clipboard. Poozle levitated itself over to the main doors and disappeared from the room.

'One hour,' growled Vors.h.a.gg, its tail thumping at the ground.

Charlton followed the Doctor and Fitz over to the door. They waited until Question Intonation had pa.s.sed, then Fitz said, 'What was that?'