Doctor Who: Virgin New Adventures [007] - Cat's Cradle - Witch Mark by Andrew Hunt & Marc Platt

Author:Andrew Hunt & Marc Platt
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780426203681
Publisher: Doctor Who Books
Published: 1992-07-12T22:00:00+00:00

Multiple signals identified.

Cancel targeting.

Awaiting instructions.

Scan random program. Random instruction #1.

Scan validity instruction #12.

Awaiting instructions.

Target arboreal plantation at 5:2:15:1570

Ignite primary burner.

Eructate.

Awaiting instructions

Observe consequence instruction #12.

By Ace’s watch, it took them six hours to reach the far edge of the forest. She remained amazed at the Doctor’s stamina in being able to carry Bathsheba all the way. Admittedly, the girl could not be that heavy – at a rough estimate she was only thirteen years old and she had little hair to increase her weight – but the Doctor did not pause and, of course, did not complain. Once free of the forest Bathsheba walked and they put a further two miles between themselves and the forest, crossing fields of burnt stubble. When the Doctor called them to a halt, they all sank to the ground gratefully.

The Doctor’s eyes closed as soon as he was down and Ace fished in her rucksack for a bottle of water and some of the beef jerky. Without opening his eyes, the Doctor stuck out a hand and received some food. With his other hand he took the bottle, took a swig and then returned It to Ace. She had never seen him like this before – actually tired, drained of energy lid – and hoped he would recover with a few hours of sleep.

Ace lit a fire between them and she and Bathsheba crouched by it, sucking the heat into their bodies.

‘What happened to you, Bathsheba?’ Ace asked.

A blank look crossed Bathsheba’s face. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Your arm,’ Ace explained.

‘Oh, I was born this way… and then I had an accident that made it worse.’

‘An accident?’

‘My brother was killed,’ was all that Bathsheba would say.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘So am I. I miss him. And ever since he died my life has been different. My father used to care for me, but he blamed me for David dying, I think. It wasn’t my fault.’

‘People always find a scapegoat. When things go wrong with their lives they try to blame someone else. I used to live in a place called Perivale. There were these people who couldn’t get jobs, whose lives were totally screwed up because they were too dumb to do anything about it. And there were other people who were different, in looks anyway. And the dumb ones blamed the others – they said that they were stealing all the jobs. Because of that they did awful things, bad things, sick things. Just because they were different.’

‘That’s like here.’

‘What do you mean?’ Ace asked.

‘They told me that Druffud was to blame for Dagda’s Wheel leaving the sky.’

‘Druffud?’

‘One of the Fomoir who used to work on the farm. They said that was why he had to be burnt.’

Ace’s throat constricted and she barely choked out, ‘Burnt?’

‘Yes, it was horrible.’

‘My God, what sort of people are you?’ But what had they done to Manisha when they had fire-bombed her flat? Were those yobs any more civilized than the people of Tír na n-Óg? Did the Earth people have any right to inhabit a moral high ground?

‘Let’s talk about something else,’ Ace suggested.

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