Doctor Who: Virgin Decalog [003] - Consequences by Andy Lane & Justin Richards

Author:Andy Lane & Justin Richards
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
Publisher: Virgin
Published: 1996-07-17T22:00:00+00:00

Fegovy

By Gareth Roberts

Miss Monodine hobbled onto the small, cluttered bridge of the Phaethon, supporting her broad-beamed bulk with her stick, whispering crossly and shaking her head. Her gaze settled on a half-empty bottle of rye and a tumbler resting on the navigation panel and she made a fearsome, disapproving noise, a sort of volcanic rumble, at the back of her throat. ‘Willchook!’ she bellowed.

‘Willchook!’

The pilot’s chair whipped round guiltily. Its occupant’s eyes were wide with fear, but he knew better than to scurry away and he sat still, transfixed, as she advanced. ‘I told you,’ she said, drawing out each word, ‘no drink, not on this trip.’ He bowed his head, and her ire grew. ‘How dare you just sit there! Are you man or mouse?’ She raised the flat of her hand and batted him about the head in rhythm with her admonishment. ‘This is not a joyride, Willchook!’

Now satisfied – she liked to start the day with an act of violence and it was often difficult to find a suitable excuse – she pulled back. Her hand was pink and it stung. She brought it up to her lips and kissed herself better.

Willchook spoke. ‘But Miss Monodine,’ he spluttered, ‘there is simply nothing out here.’ He waved a hand in the direction of the forward scan display.

The way ahead was unremittingly black and blank. ‘No traffic, no planetary systems, no debris.’

She hissed. ‘Idiot. Do you imagine we’re the only ones to have been summoned by this Fegovy? There might be any number of other bidders. I ordered you to keep a constant watch!’ She felt anger returning.

‘I’ve been on watch for eighteen hours,’ he said drowsily, with a longing look at the bunk built into the bridge’s wall. ‘And there’s nothing but void. I was bored.’

Miss Monodine landed him another slap, brutally, under the chin. ‘I’ll give you bored. You’re a drunk, Willchook. I wonder why I picked you.’

‘I’m cheap, Miss Monodine,’ he muttered.

Her face flushed beetrootred. ‘Shut up! Shut up!’ She lunged for the whisky bottle and raised it menacingly over his head. ‘I told you never to speak of money in front of me!’ She threw the bottle into a corner, where it sparked a small electrical fire, then reached out and grabbed his jaw, clamping it with her raw fingers. ‘When I was a child,’ she rumbled, ‘I watched my father flay a man that crossed him. He peeled off the fellow’s skin from head to toe’ – at this point in the telling she increased the force of her squeeze – ‘and forced him to carry it, over his shoulder, out into the vacuum. If I didn’t need a pilot, I’d do much the same to you!’ She released him with a shove that sent him crashing into the navigation panel. ‘From now, you keep a clear head!’

She expected more apologies, but something had caught Willchook’s eye, a light flashing on the forward scan display. He raised a finger. ‘That’s impossible. Something’s registering.’

Miss Monodine squinted at the display.

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