Doctor Who - [E007] by Kursaal (by Peter Anghelides) (html)

Author:Kursaal (by Peter Anghelides) (html)
Language: eng
Format: epub

* * *

Sam had never been in an interrogation room before. She couldn’t recall ever being in a police station either. She’d read Amnesty reports about beatings and deaths in foreign cells, torture during incommunicado detention, shocking and blunt descriptions of the horrors imposed by one human being on another. But they seemed remote, detached. Mo and Mikey Clunes at school had been locked up overnight for peeing on the front window of Woolworth’s, and boasted at school next week about their bravery in the grim conditions in Coal Hill nick. But Mo had muscle where his brain should be, and little Mikey was alleged to have been moulded out of Mo’s spare flesh, which didn’t exactly make them reliable sources.

So everything she expected of the Kursaal interrogation room came from watching

The Bill and reruns of Prime Suspect. Plain, hard furniture; stark, cold walls against which tall, scowling policemen leaned in mute witness to proceedings; strong cups of horrid, orange tea with not enough milk. She wasn’t disappointed. Even the tea came in white disposable containers.Kadijk was leaning over the table and staring her down. ‘Don’t be stupid. It didn’t take us long to break the encryption on the datacube. Tell us who provided the information.’

Sam looked at her bitten nails as though they were the most fascinating things she’d ever seen. Kadijk put his finger under her chin. She pulled her face away, and stared into the photorecorder over his shoulder. ‘I was given it by Professor Saraband,’ she said in a tight voice. ‘That was just before you and your goons murdered her in cold blood.’

Kadijk sighed. ‘As soon as we noticed, we were trying to get you all out. It was an unfortunate… industrial accident.’

‘You dug them out,’ spat Sam. ‘You must have expected people would die.’

‘I expected you to be more co‐

operative.’‘You expected you could manipulate me,’ she retorted. Kadijk sat down opposite her again, and placed his hands palm up on the table. ‘We didn’t know you and Professor Saraband were working for the HALF terrorists.’

His eyes were in shadow. Sam couldn’t tell whether he was lying or not.

‘Maybe you weren’t working for them. You got mixed up in something bigger than you could have known.’ A pause. ‘The datacube contains obvious HALF smear tactics, which I’m sure Mr Gray will refute, if he bothers with them at all. Be reasonable, Sam. I mean, Gray Corp funding for HALF?’ A short, incredulous laugh. ‘That’s crazy! The share price for the Kursaal Consortium is nose‐

diving as the project is delayed. Tell me who created the datacube, Sam?’He placed it on the table in front of them, inactive, and turned it in the harsh light.

The door behind him cracked open, and Zaterday came in carrying a white disposable drink container, his yellow hair and blue face marking’ him out oddly from his more human colleagues. Sam checked her thoughts there. It was too easy to see him as different just because he was a Fodoran. He was still one of her captors.

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