Doctor Who - The 8th Doctor - 43 - Earthworld by Jacqueline Rayner

Author:Jacqueline Rayner [Rayner, Jacqueline]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Science Fiction, Adventure, Doctor Who (Fictitious Character)
ISBN: 9780563538271
Publisher: BBC Pubns
Published: 2001-04-14T07:00:00+00:00

‘Mmmmmmm’.

He thought quickly. ‘Hang on,’ he whispered to Elvis, who looked petrified.

‘They’re three little kids. Without their muscle we can take them any day!’ Elvis seemed confused. ‘No robots! If there’re no robots, then we can jump them as they come in! Stick the manacles on ’em and we’re out of here!’ He pointed to one side of the door, indicating where Elvis should go, and stationed himself on the other. There was the bleeping sound of an entry code being inputted.

The door slid open. Fitz stood poised. . . he flexed his knees. . . he sprang. . .

and bounced off a golden robot.

‘I thought you said there weren’t any robots!’ he said accusingly to Asia, who followed the metal monster in. Possibly not a good tone of voice to adopt in the circumstances.

‘All our personal automatons have intrinsic shields,’ she said. ‘Now, put these on –’ Antarctica hurried in and threw some clothes at them, patted Princess Leia on the head and then ran out again – ‘and then you will come with us. You too,’ she added to Elvis, who was still cowering on his side of the door. The coward hadn’t even tried to escape.

The Doctor swept through the door, handing his coat to one of the guards in passing, without looking at him. The room was a cross between a regally appointed bedroom and an infirmary – presumably it had been the one and converted to the other out of necessity. It was pink and lacy; pastel drapes were hooked back on a four-poster and the pale carpet pile was so deep the Doctor’s shoes were almost hidden. A machine stood next to the bed, half concealed by the falling fabric. What could be seen of it was dead – no noise, blank screen, lights dim. And then there were the people. Lying on the bed, arms folded across the pink coverlet and dark hair floating over the pillow as if underwater, was a woman: the President’s wife, Elizabethan. She was not moving, and her face was as pale as a ghost.

96

EarthWorld

Kneeling next to the bed was the President, Hoover, crying his eyes out.

The Doctor was at the bed in an instant, looking here, there and everywhere

– at the woman, the machine, finally lying flat on the floor to examine the leads that joined the one to the other. The President, still weeping, barely looked up.

‘Who switched off this machine?’ the Doctor asked. The President didn’t answer. The Doctor turned to look at the door guard, still clutching his coat, and raised his eyebrows enquiringly.

‘Er, the President did,’ said the guard – and then, obviously unsure of the Doctor’s place in the scheme of things, added ‘sir’, just in case.

The Doctor didn’t lower his eyebrows.

‘Um, it was no use. She was –’ the guard lowered his voice – ‘she was dead, sir.’

The Doctor turned back to the bed, and whipped back the covers, eliciting a concerned gasp from the guard. The Doctor lifted the woman’s arms, letting them drop back on to the bed.

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