Doctor Who - [E029] by Frontier Worlds (by Peter Anghelides) (html)

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

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Sempiter didn’t know exactly how long he waited for someone to come and discover him, because he had misplaced his wristwatch somewhere. He guessed it was at least ninety minutes. Ninety minutes of useless banging on the exit door until the heels of his hands were bruised, ninety minutes of fiddling with snapped connectors and loose wires in the smashed communications systems until his clean white nails were broken or thick with dirt and oil. Ninety minutes in which his temper peaked and then ebbed away, until he was more embarrassed than furious when Hannaw Applin finally opened the door.

Sempiter brushed away Applin’s initial apologies about disturbing him despite the notice outside. She had been worried about disobeying his strict instructions about no interruptions, but also concerned that he hadn’t contacted her for his traditional perusal of business communications and e mail in the middle of the evening.

Sempiter had also had time, during that hour and a half, to reflect repeatedly on what the Doctor had said before he left. Applin’s babbling regrets about missing the business communications brought it home with a jolt. ‘He said “The e mail of the species is more deadly than the mail”. That’s what Ellis’s idiot assistant said to me in HQ yesterday.’

They were striding down the passageway that led from the isolated laboratory and back to the main office areas of the research station. Sempiter took the stairs three at a time. Hannaw stumbled after him, trying not to get her heels caught in the metal grille of the treads.

‘Who?’ said Applin.

Sempiter had stopped to consider the question. Applin looked away suddenly, embarrassed to be caught staring at the bruised mess of his face. He had refused to allow her to call a medic. ‘Do you mean Frank Sinatra?’

‘Yes. He said exactly the same thing to me. Has that DNA search thrown up anything yet?’

She stared away again. ‘No, sir,’ she said to her feet.

‘Then forget it. Look out Frank Sinatra’s DNA record – I think we’ll find that it’s the same as the Doctor’s. They’re in this together.’

‘Frank?’ asked Applin. ‘That conniving sod. Oh, excuse me, sir, I didn’t –’

‘Forget the sentimental attachment,’ snapped Sempiter as they rounded the corner and swept into his office. ‘Get me the DNA record. Get me a cold compress. And get me a connection to security at HQ. Any time in the next twenty seconds will be fine for all three.’

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