Doctor Who: Target - Novelisations [145] - Planet of Giants by Terrance Dicks

Author:Terrance Dicks
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780426203452
Publisher: Target Books
Published: 1990-04-14T22:00:00+00:00

8

Whirlpool

The huge fly scrutinized Barbara with its many-faceted eyes as if unsure what to make of her. Its body quivered, its huge translucent wings vibrated gently, and it was rubbing its front legs together, producing an eerie rustling sound.

Barbara opened her mouth to scream for help, but no words would come. Watching helplessly from above, Ian saw her body crumple and slump to the ground. The fly moved nearer, as if it were curious. What would happen, thought Ian, if it decided she was dead – didn’t flies feed on the dead?

Suddenly there was a thunderous crash and the room seemed to vibrate. The fly took off with a whirring of wings, hovered for a moment, and then settled on the little pile of treated seeds.

Jumping down from his perch, Ian picked up Barbara’s unconscious body and carried her into hiding behind the briefcase.

Smithers came into the room and began taking rags and cleaning spirit from a cupboard under the lab bench. He was irritably aware of Forester, who was standing in the doorway watching him. Smithers looked up. ‘You don’t have to watch everything I do, you know.’

Forester stayed infuriatingly calm. ‘I just like to know what’s going on.’

‘Well, here’s something you don’t know. There’s a patch of blood on the patio flagstones. You don’t seem to have noticed it.’

‘Can you get it out?’

Smithers waved a battered can. ‘This ought to shift it.’

‘I won’t forget this, Smithers.’

‘Oh yes you will. You’ll forget all about it, once it’s over. Shooting Farrow, disposing of the body – you’ll rub it right out of your mind.’

Forester smiled. ‘Well, of course, once it’s over.’

‘You needn’t think I’m doing this for you, either, Forester. It’s for the project. If there’s one chance in a million of making it work, then I’ve got to take it.’

‘Quite so,’ said Forester. ‘It’s simply a question of the greater good.’

‘Your greater good, you mean. You’ve committed murder and now it’s got to be covered up.’

‘We’re only being sensible, Smithers. Practical.’

‘Oh yes,’ sneered Smithers. ‘It was practical all right, making me an accessory.’

Forester raised his eyebrows. ‘Making you?’

‘Yes, making. You knew perfectly well how I feel about the DN6 project, how much work I’ve put into it, what it means to me. That’s why you took me out and showed me Farrow’s body, wasn’t it?’

Tired of Smithers and his ranting, Forester shrugged.

‘Yes, of course.’

Smithers looked at him with something very like hatred. ‘You’d do anything to get what you want, wouldn’t you?’

Forester’s voice hardened. ‘Wouldn’t you? Aren’t you?’

Smithers glared at him for a moment. Then he dropped his eyes and went off to clean up Farrow’s blood. Forester followed close behind him.

The Doctor was lying beside a huge round metal-bordered hole, divided into segments by struts radiating from a smaller central circle. All around him was a gleaming metal plain, bounded on four sides by smooth high metal walls. He was lying beside the plug-hole in a stainless-steel laboratory sink.

Susan knelt beside him, bathing his face with some of the water that occasionally splashed down in giant drops from the tap above.

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