The Ghosts Of N_Space by Barry Letts

Author:Barry Letts [Letts, Barry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Science Fiction, Doctor Who (Fictitious Character)
ISBN: 9780426204343
Publisher: Doctor Who Books
Published: 1995-04-14T07:00:00+00:00

Throwing him down so that he collapsed in a scared heap on the mosaic floor, Guido stood over him, ready to grab him again if he showed fight. But he knew when he was outclassed. Scrambling to his feet, he backed away towards the corridor he’d come from. He turned a last snarl on Sarah, hissing, ‘You wait till tonight!’ Guido made for him and he turned and fled, helped on his way by the man’s boot.

‘Are you all right, lad?’

‘Thank you, yes,’ she answered manfully in spite of the new crop of hurts. ‘But I don’t think I should have been if you hadn’t turned up.’

He noticed her hand still on the hilt of her dagger. ‘He’s not worth a stretched neck,’ he said with a smile and turned to go up the spiral stairs.

If it had not been for the fiend, it would have been a tediously long job, if not downright impossible, to free the solid wooden gate (getting on for a foot thick) that closed the only way in through the outer wall.

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Having cleared away two hundred years’ worth of debris from the base, and dolloped about a pint of Umberto’s best olive oil onto the ornate hinges, they were all vainly pulling on a rope attached to the heavy ring handle of the latch, like a tug‐of‐war team at a village fete.

The Brigadier was anchor man, with the end of the rope wrapped round his back so that he could use all his weight, and the others (bar Umberto, who had been detailed off to make some sandwiches) were strung out in front of him in a rough order of body size and strength.

Jeremy was doing his best not to feel fed up. After all, he had won his spurs, hadn’t he? (Though what spurs had to do with it…) He’d shown everybody that he wasn’t a wimp or a wally. Yet the Brig hadn’t actually said anything, even though he’d patted him on the back in a sort of a well‐done sort of way; and Maggie, in spite of what she’d said on the boat, seemed more interested in the attentions of old man Mario and the horrible Roberto and his soupy voice.

‘Once more,’ called the Brigadier. ‘One, two, three, heave!’ It was as they were all obediently heaving that he saw it, lolloping towards them from the pile of stones which was all you could see of the collapsed wall at the rear of the compound.

It was only a small fiend compated with the others. In fact, he thought at first that it was a dog; it was only when it 189

got near enough for him to see that it had six legs – or was it eight? – and a face like a furry duck, that he realized what he was looking at.

‘One, two, three –’

‘Look out!’ yelled Jeremy, letting go and pointing. This was a mistake; for not only did all the others bar the Brigadier also let go, thus altering

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