Doctor Who - The 8th Doctor - 29 - Frontier Worlds by Peter Anghelides

Author:Peter Anghelides [Anghelides, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Science Fiction, Genetic Engineering, Doctor Who (Fictitious Character)
ISBN: 9780563555896
Publisher: BBC Worldwide Americas
Published: 1999-11-28T08:00:00+00:00

That brought the blood to my face in a scalding rush. ‘That’s a cheap shot, Compassion. This isn’t a game, and it’s not a revenge tragedy. It’s real and horrible and frightening and I want to be anywhere but here right now. Anywhere. You can be as logical and dispassionate and amoral as you like, just don’t drag me in.’

Compassion stared at me. It was as close as she was going to get to anger, a cold note in her voice and her demeanour. ‘I did what was necessary to survive.’ She put the axe beside me on the tree trunk. ‘You would do the same. If you had to.’

She walked away from me and out of the clearing. A bird skittered up from the ground, chittering in anxiety as Compassion passed by.

I turned over the axe in my right hand. Through the mess of blood, the letters stencilled on the handle read, FOR EMERGENCY USE ONLY.

Before getting up and following Compassion, I pulled back my arm and threw the axe away from me into the jungle as hard as I could.

165

Chapter Twenty-Two

‘Fools Rush In’

The jungle ended abruptly. We stepped through a clump of overhanging vines and were suddenly on a stretch of dry brown earth. It led down via a bear-slide scramble to a river, maybe twenty yards of green-brown water separating us from a tall, soily embankment on the far side. Behind us now, the jungle tree line curved away, a sharp contour beside the river as it meandered off into the distance.

Compassion indicated the river. ‘What do you think?’

I thought about a warm bath, a cup of cocoa and a pair of carpet slippers warming by the fire that burned so incongruously in the corner of my room in the TARDIS. What I said was, ‘I think it’s worth a try.’

The morning sun was low in the sky, but I could still feel it hot on the back of my neck as we scrambled down the bank to the water’s edge. The air was muggy, and I knew it would soon become oppressively hot.

Compassion dived straight into the river, and set off across it in a powerful crawl. I stared after her. Then I thought of the Lido back home, and dived in, ignoring a fleeting impression that the river looked deep and cold and smelly.

After a few feeble strokes, I realised that it was deep and cold and smelly –

and fast-moving. The tug of the undercurrent had seized me, and was dragging me away from the bank at worrying speed. I didn’t even have time to splutter a cry for help before Compassion was holding my head above the surface and pulling us through the murky water. Within a few minutes, we were squelching the last few steps through a becalmed stretch of water beside the opposite bank.

I was covered in pond scum, yucky green algae that frankly did nothing for my poise and temper. Maybe that was why I didn’t thank Compassion. Maybe it was because she was already scampering up the embankment.

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