Doctor Who: The Many Hands by Dale Smith

Author:Dale Smith [Smith, Dale]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781407023953
Publisher: Ebury Publishing
Published: 2008-09-04T00:00:00+00:00

TEN

Martha hovered by the coffin trying to decide what she should do. Part of her said she should open it, but she couldn't think of any sane reason why she would want to. All the same, her hand started to stretch out to it, almost of its own accord. She turned her face away from the inevitable, as if by not seeing it she could be sure that she wasn't doing it.

'Don't touch that!'

Martha jumped, feeling a strong urge to run and run and never stop. Instead, she snatched her hand away and turned.

Alexander was there, his face filled with an anger so fierce that it might well be able to melt metal. His hands were covered with heavy leather gloves, and an apron covered him from shoulder to toe: Martha realised with a jolt that this was him dressed for surgery.

He was holding the two disembodied hands.

'How did you get out?' he asked, stepping closer.

Martha should have run, but instead she hesitated.

The older Monro entered the room through another doorway, still dressed in his everyday clothes but carrying two of the pottery batteries that he had used in her cell. They looked heavy, but such was his surprise at seeing Martha that he didn't put them down. He just stood there, staring at her. Alexander took another step forward.

'Don't just gawp,' he snapped. 'Help me catch her.'

'And what then?' Martha asked.

Alexander simply glared.

'Hold her,' he growled.

Martha looked to Monro.

'No,' the old anatomist said.

'No?'

'This isn't what we wanted, Alexander,' he said simply.

'So what did you want?' Martha asked.

Monro looked at her so sadly.

'My father was a great man,' the old man said quietly. 'He died when he still had so much he could offer. To the world: the whole world was lessened when he passed away, do you understand?'

Monro looked to the coffin on the table. Martha remembered the brass plaque: John Monro. For a moment, she thought of her own father. Leaving her mother and advertising his midlife crisis to the whole of London with the help of Annalise. What would she do, when the time finally came? Beg the Doctor to take her back and change it all? She knew she'd give anything to have him back.

Then she remembered the pale highwayman.

'Look, I know you miss your dad,' Martha said. For a moment, Monro looked like he might cry. 'But this isn't right. You know it isn't. I don't think they're even the same people they were when you bring them back. Do you?'

Monro paused, just for a moment.

'Why are you listening to her?' Alexander yelled.

He threw down the hands he was about to experiment on. As the hands dropped onto the operating table, he tugged his heavy leather gloves off, letting them fall to the floor. A moment later, Alexander was nearly on her. The look on his face almost made Martha sick: there was so much of his father's gentleness there, but the anger twisted it and made it so ugly. She took a breath and a step back, bringing her arms up to defend herself.

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