Doctor Who - New Adventures - 41 - Zamper by Gareth Roberts

Author:Gareth Roberts
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780426204503
Publisher: Virgin Pub
Published: 1995-10-14T07:00:00+00:00

Instantly he was gripped by a horror that transcended any he had known before. It was a fear he experienced not as a Chelonian but as an animal, that whitened his eyes and caused his claws to retract as a shiver passed through his frame. All about was strangeness, alienness. The cavern was dominated by an artifact of unnatural design, its facets sparkling in the whiteness that obscured its upper half in a turbid haze. The light appeared to slide down the thing in a cool mist, giving it the aspect of a monstrous living waterfall. Worst of all, huddled at its base, their greasy shapes distorted through patches of vapour, were hundreds upon hundreds of the revolting Zamp creatures. Ivzid’s reasoning faculties were overwhelmed by what he could only have described as an impression of wrongness. A wave of pure unqualified evil. It was a sensation for which nothing in his experience could have prepared him.

Suddenly, something else impinged itself upon his dazzled senses. Two somethings; two shapes, parasite shapes, silhouetted against the great gleaming thing as the prophet had been. Both parasites were shorter than average, and one of them wore a crumpled circlet of some kind on its head and carried some sort of silly stick. It was talking. ‘…some kind of non-specific rite surfacing from the autonomic consciousness…’

Ivzid croaked, ‘Parasites!’

The one wearing the circlet turned his much-wrinkled head and a curious expression that Ivzid could not make sense of dropped over his features as he stepped forward. ‘Oh no,’ he said acidly. ‘And just when I was starting to enjoy myself.’

The other parasite, which Ivzid could now see was an aged female, huddled close to her mate. 'Ah. One of our new buyers.’ She addressed Ivzid directly. ‘Shouldn’t you be in your quarters, sir? The Management –’

‘The Management is dead!’ Ivzid slouched forward, his head turning suspiciously from side to side. ‘You will make account of yourselves, and this –’ he waved a foot at the artifact ‘– evil object.’

‘Ah,’ said the circleted one. ‘You seem to be rather ahead of us. The Management is dead, you say?’

Ivzid reared up. ‘Explain yourself! Do not trifle with the exalted one!’

The circleted parasite spoke in an aside to his companion.

‘Exalted one? Dear, dear. Even worse than usual for a Chelonian.’

‘I heard that!’ snarled Ivzid. ‘Do not think you can hide your whispers, parasite!’

He doffed his circlet in an insulting gesture. ‘I do beg your forgiveness. We don’t appear to have been introduced. I’m the Doctor. This lady is called Smith.’

Ivzid scoffed. ‘Doctor? Veterinarian would be more appro–

’ A thought struck him. A fragment of half-forgotten legend came into his mind. ‘The Doctor?’ he said slowly. ‘ The Doctor? Of the brotherhood of Doctors?’

He bowed his head.

‘Ha!’ Ivzid cackled. ‘You are known to us as Sla – Ifrok –

Yalkoz – Slan! ’

‘Oh really? My Chelonian’s a little rusty, but I assume that means fearsome and deadly enemy or some such?’

Ivzid shook his head. ‘It is narrow dialect for “interfering idiot.

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