Doctor Who Eighth Doctor Adventures 72 by To The Slaughter

Author:To The Slaughter
Format: epub

Chapter Fifteen 129 Tm still working on it!’ he protested. ‘I was setting something up when I got sidetracked by the TV! Look in here. . . ’ The Doctor showed her into a side room. There was a small mountain of used plastic cups in one corner and a by-now-familiar keypad and holosphere in the other. The Doctor wagged a finger at it and the image rippled. ‘What is it?’ ‘Those encrypted notes we took from the Institute. I’m trying to translate them.’ Trix frowned. ‘What’s wrong with the Polar Lights's computers?’ ‘Billion-bit encryption doesn’t break easily.’ He grinned sheepishly. ‘But sadly the Polar Lights's computers did while I was cracking the first part of the key. So I thought I’d better finish the job on the builders’ computer. But it’s very slow.’ ‘Its owners are builders, what did you expect? It’ll probably start working on it next Wednesday.’ ‘Quicker to do it myself,’ he grumbled, pulling a pen and a scrap of paper from his trouser pocket. But a test scribble proved the pen a dud. He threw it into the pile of crumpled plastic. ‘Do you have a pen?’ Trix felt inside her borrowed jacket. ‘I have a pencil.’ She passed it to him. ‘Now, it’s an asymmetric key cipher. . . ’ Absentmindedly the Doctor started knocking it against his knuckles. ‘Assuming the private key is. . . ’ He trailed off, still tapping the pencil. Then he held his knuckles to his ear, and tapped again. ‘What are you doing now?’ Trix sighed. ‘Shh.’ He scowled at her, kept tapping, kept listening. Then he smiled. ‘It’s a good solid lead. A fine pencil.’ ‘Bit of an anachronism for the twenty-fifth century, isn’t it?’ said Trix. ‘A pencil?’ The Doctor chomped on the blunt end. ‘Probably denotes a certain seniority on the part of the owner, as well as an individual streak. I imagine pencils like this are very valuable.’ He snapped the pencil in two. ‘But not indestructible. . . ’ ‘I think you’re the one who’s snapped,’ said Trix. ‘Probably.’ Shrugging, he started scrawling on his piece of paper with the stub. ‘Now, assuming this is the key word. . . ’ Trix leaned back against the wall and slowly slumped to the floor. Her bum had barely rested for a moment when the Doctor’s jubilant shout sent her jumping back up. ‘P... A... I... N. Pain.’

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