Doctor Who - Short Trips (Big Finish) - 23 - Defining Patterns by Ian Farrington

Author:Ian Farrington [Farrington, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, Collections & Anthologies
ISBN: 9781844352685
Google: 0IRuIQAACAAJ
Amazon: 1844352684
Barnesnoble: 1844352684
Publisher: Big Finish
Published: 2007-09-15T07:00:00+00:00

‘This,’ agrees Lucie, passing him corns wrapped in shrub-leaves, ‘is sort of Worcester sauce and Custard Creams!’ Her eyes widen – which in most creatures means that they’re frightened, whereas Lucie is enjoying herself. ‘Do you think I could get the recipe?’ she says. Her late friend the Doctor was another fast talker, so perhaps it’s just how they are. ‘My Auntie Pat loves anything really stinky,’ she continues.

‘She puts horseradish on chocolate digestives, and eats gherkins and pickles and that. Anyway,’ she says, smiling up at me, ‘no they’re not.

Not if we don’t let ’em.’

And then from her sleeve she produces a key.

Lucie can’t run like we can and the long-legged tin machines catch up with us before we’re out of the building. We fight but it’s obviously hopeless. The tin machines don’t feel us hitting them and our tentacles bruise on their shells.

‘All right then,’ says Lucie, more for our benefit than theirs. ‘You lot get to win that one. So, what, I’ve gotta count to a hundred and now it’s your turn to hide?’

We watch the tin machines confer, twittering and bleeping their

lights.

‘Um,’ says Lucie, just as amazed as we are, ‘I think they want to play...’

‘That’s fantastic!’ says Albumen, laughing along with her. And the tin machines shoot him dead. He doesn’t have time to cry out, his body just erupts in white flame.

Lucie screams at them all the way back to the cell – that it’s not fair, that Albumen only did what she told him, that somehow she’ll show them all yet She struggles and bites as they force her arms behind her back and try to manacle her two wrists together. Her limbs aren’t as flexible as our tentacles, and I fret that the tin machines might break her. She doesn’t mean to kick me when I try to help – she’s just

thrashing about all she can.

They eventually get he1 manacled and drop her down on the floor.

Lucie lies there, swearing abuse at them. But when the cell door slams shut and it’s just the two of us, she’s suddenly, horribly quiet. I want to give her space to compose herself, but it’s only a small cell and my nervousness makes me twitchy.

After maybe half an hour I can’t stand it any more. ‘It was quick for him,’ I say.

110

Lucie won’t look up at me and her two eyes leak droplets of fluid.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says.

‘You needn’t be.’ I don’t tell her that Albumen was always my rival, that my siblings will inherit his workshare.

‘It was some kind of disintegrator ray gun, yeah? The same thing

they used on the Doctor?’

We’ve been over this before, of course. ‘There’s no possible way

anyone could survive it,’ I say. ‘You have to accept that he’s dead.’

Lucie sits up, head raised defiantly. ‘Whatever.’

I shuffle closer to her, wondering if the customs of her world would object to me putting a tentacle round her. ‘I think it makes things worse for you,’ I say, ‘insisting that he’s still alive.’

‘You don’t know the Doctor,’ says Lucie.

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