Doctor Who PDA67 - Synthespians (6th) by Craig Hinton

Author:Craig Hinton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-07-13T02:42:17+00:00

Walter J Matheson looked up from his monitor and rubbed his eyes. It was late, but late nights were nothing to him.

Usually. But tonight felt different. It wasn’t that he wanted to sleep – it was a pressing need to get out of the office, to go for a walk.

It’s 1 a. m! But the need was growing stronger and stronger. It had been there as a whisper a couple of days ago. By yesterday, it had begun to nag at him like a toothache. And today it was like an unfulfilled addiction, a craving that overrode everything else.

He stood up and grabbed his overcoat; even in his preoccupied state he hadn’t forgotten that Reef Station One weather control had ordered snow and sub-zero temperatures for Industrial 1 this evening.

The night was magnificently crisp, the air almost crystallised with cold. Matheson pulled his coat further around him, and smiled in remembrance. It reminded him of his childhood on New Alaska, the remote homestead, with the nearest neighbours, the Swifts, forty miles away.

Absolute solitude. Absolute peace. No people to get in the way, to make irrational decisions, to question his decisions.

He summoned his limousine, got in, and deactivated the grid. He didn’t know where he was going, but he’d know when he got there.

Twenty minutes later, he was in Reclamation 1, a grim vista of water tanks, waste recyclers and low smog. Not exactly the location you’d expect to find one of the Nine, but this was where he’d been told to go. He got out of the car and waited. He didn’t have to wait for long.

Up in the sky, through the thin smog and through the dome that covered the station, he could see the stars, the rich tapestry of the New Human Republic.

Some of the stars were moving. A lot of the stars were moving.

A cluster of stars, thirty, forty, maybe fifty of them, were moving towards the plexiglass dome. Meteorites? But the station defences would have vaporised them by now. What the hell were they?

They weren’t stars, obviously. And he could see shapes in the brilliant luminescence, he could see... he could see a formation to them! And they were heading straight towards the dome -

He instinctively covered his head with his hands as the flight of meteorites hit the dome – and looked up a moment later to see that they had passed through the indestructible plastic that protected Reef Station One and were now landing all around him, a cacophony of explosions like a machine gun. He could see plumes of dust rising everywhere as the meteorites made planetfall.

But no meteorite could simply pass through the station’s protective dome. And no meteorite could summon him to one of the least-visited districts on the station. He took a deep breath, and listened. Not with his ears, though: with his mind, trying to hear that faint voice that had compelled him to be here.

Where are you?

We are here.

An hour later, Walter J. Matheson’s limousine arrived at his newly built mansion in Residential 0, with a trunk full of wonder.

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