Doctor Who - Torchwood - 19 - The Exodus Code by John Barrowman & Carole E. Barrowman

Author:John Barrowman & Carole E. Barrowman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781846079085
Publisher: BBC Books
Published: 2012-09-13T07:00:00+00:00

Part Three

‘The moon gazed on my midnight labours, while, with unrelaxed and

breathless eagerness, I pursued nature to her hiding-places.’

Mary Shel ey, Frankenstein

45

Whitehall, London, next day

AT 9 A.M. sharp, a severely coiffured woman in her twenties ushered Dr Trimba

Ormond into Alan Pride’s suite of offices in Whitehal , directly between Horse

Guards and 10 Downing Street. The London Eye was visible through the

window, a perfect metaphor, Ormond thought, for the man’s position in

government – there he was at the heart of everything, yet somehow

maintaining enough distance to avoid having to tilt too far one way or the other.

The madness that was afflicting women worldwide had been bumped down

the news agenda. The sporadic tremors and subsequent appearance of the

strange geysers rising up from beneath the world’s oceans had captured the

attention of the press, in Britain and abroad. Dr Ormond, however, was not

about to let the issue slip from Pride’s radar. Over breakfast with her husband

and daughter, she’d practised exactly what she was going to say to Mr Alan

Pride.

‘I respect the position you’re in, Mr Pride, especial y in light of this recent

oceanic event, but as far as we can tel these formations are benign. That is

not, however, the case with this mental il ness that’s affecting so many women

here and around the world. The public should be kept informed, and these

women deserve to be treated with the ful resources that we can bring to bear.

To simply continue to say that these women just need to be sedated is neither

a solution nor a palatable stopgap any more. The public has a right to know

what we’re doing to find a cure, especial y given the increase in suicides

among these woman and the rise in violent crimes towards their families. Are

we simply going to wait until they al kil themselves and then hope that the

problem wil disappear?’

Her daughter had found her argument convincing, but Ormond wasn’t sure a

10-year-old real y counted, or even much cared. Problem was, Ormond was

becoming convinced that far too few people in positions of power did either. A

few mad women was nothing compared to massive rock chimneys popping up

across the world’s oceans. If even the worst of the papers had bumped the

story to an occasional feature, what chance was there of engaging public

interest in a few emotional y unbalanced women?

Ormond had wiped jam from her daughter’s chin, kissed her husband and let

her driver carry her briefcase and her coat to the car.

‘Try to stay sane today,’ her husband had cal ed as she left. Funny man.

And now she was sitting waiting for a man who could decide on a whim

whether those women sank or swam.

‘Mr Pride wil be with you shortly,’ said the assistant. ‘He’s on an overseas

cal at the moment. Can I get you a coffee?’

‘Thank you. Black. Two sugars.’

Dr Ormond was sipping her second cup when the heavy office doors swung

open and Alan Pride stepped out to greet her.

‘My apologies for keeping you waiting, Trimba.’

He proffered his hand, his shake strong and purposeful, placing the other on

the smal of her back to usher her into his office.

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