Doctor Who: BBC Eighth Doctor Adventures [020] - Demontage by Justin Richards

Author:Justin Richards
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780563555728
Publisher: BBC Books
Published: 1999-03-14T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Behind the Scenes at the Gallery

The office area was dark apart from the light from the terminal on Gath’s desk. Blanc was sprawled in a chair watching as she entered the details.

‘Anyone else?’

Blanc counted off the guests on his fingers. ‘The President, of course, and her entourage.’

‘Phillips,’ Gath said.

‘Yes, Phillips. And his security team. Is she bringing that dreadful husband of hers?’

‘I believe not.’

Blanc grunted. ‘Pity. Then there are the local dignitaries,’ he continued.

‘Cy Slavich from the Vega Central Bank, though I gather he’s unlikely to turn up. The security chief, that idiot Stabilo from the hotel and casino.’

He went through several more names, counting them off by folding down his fingers. ‘And Caruso,’ he finished. ‘I suppose we have to invite Bigdog.’

‘You think that might be a problem?’

Blanc shook his head. ‘I doubt he’ll cause trouble. They say that he’s rather more mellow these days than he used to be. Now, who else?’

‘Rappare and Forster.’

‘Indeed.’ Blanc swung himself round so he was facing Gath. ‘Do you think they really have the picture?’

She thought for a moment. ‘Why would they lie? They’re a bit cagey about letting us see it, that’s all. They’ll come through.’ She smiled, the expression emphasised by the light from the terminal, which deepened the lines and creases that appeared on her face. ‘Worried?’

Blanc stared at her. ‘Of course I’m worried. And so should you be.’ He was breathing heavily. ‘We need to keep our voices down. Just in case.’

He leapt to his feet, pacing up and down in front of the desk. ‘I’m not going to let that old bastard stop us now, though. We’re too close.’

‘I doubt there’s anything in it,’ Gath said quietly. ‘But I agree, it’s as well to be cautious.’ She returned her attention to the screen. ‘OK, I’ve sent those. Anyone else we need to invite to the Presidential reception? Those jokers who recovered the picture, maybe?’

Blanc frowned. ‘Or maybe not,’ he said.

The pending-mail alert flashed in the corner of the screen, waiting for acknowledgement. Bigdog glared at it for a moment, then stabbed at a button on his console with a claw. Immediately a list of unopened mail swam into view. Most of them he was deliberately ignoring, but the topmost message was new.

Bigdog’s apartment was spotlessly clean and clinically tidy. Anyone who knew him, knew his reputation, would have been surprised. But that was the way Bigdog liked things – clean, tidy and not at all what people would expect.

This too was unexpected. An invitation to attend a Presidential reception to celebrate the opening of the Martinique Experience. He scanned through the few lines of the invitation. Interesting. Interesting that there was to be a reception, and interesting that they had invited him. But should he go? What message would that be perceived as sending – both here on Vega and back home on Canvine? Bigdog scratched at his hairy jaw with a long claw, and considered his options.

The safest course of action seemed to be to leave Fitz in his hotel room.

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