Doctor How and the Deadly Anemones (3 page)

Doctor How sighed. “I’m tired of telling you that you see only at a certain depth. Walter will come into his own in good time. Every flower has its own season.”

“Right. If we ever need to bore someone to death, Wally’s your man.”

“Leave it, Kevin. Get some sleep.”

“I dunno, Doc. I keep thinking about those aliens. I mean, they tried to kill us today.”

“And I’m sure they’re still planning to kill us even as we speak.”

“I don’t know how you can be so cool about it, man. So
nonchalant
. I mean, you have no Spectrel! For all you know it could have been destroyed.”

The Doctor laughed. “Oh, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Like, how can you be so sure?”

“Remember the little piece of metal from the alien operation centre that you gave me?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think happened to it?”

“You was going to get it analysed, wasn’t you?”

“Where would I do that?”

“Spectrel?”

“Exactly. I put it into my pocket. The shortcut still works, so I know she’s fine. At least on some level. Now, to bed with you. A house-bot will take you to a guest room.”

The Doctor’s mobile phone beeped. He took it out of his pocket, looked at the screen and frowned. He tapped at the screen and his frown deepened.

“Wassup?” asked Kevin, who was nearly finished his scrambled eggs on toast. He’d slept profoundly well in Where’s Spectrel, and wasn’t sure whether it was the aftermath of his first big battle the previous day, or the healing qualities he assumed that Spectrels possessed. Whatever the explanation, the result had been a voracious appetite.

“The Plenscas,” said the Doctor.

“Who?”

“They were the tenants whose system gave me a false alarm when you were being used as a proxy in the attempt to hack my Spectrel. That was last Sunday, when this whole mess began.”

“What… are they like aliens, or something?”

“They’re not ‘like’ aliens at all. They are exactly what you would describe as aliens, yes. I would rather you referred to them euphemistically as ‘out-of-towners’. A nice couple. She’s the Rindan consul here. They rent an apartment from me in Balham.”

“Sheesh, like you didn’t tell me you was into the whole buy-to-let scam, Doc. Just an opinion, but I think it’s skewed the whole London market, right? Stops young people from getting on the housing ladder. It’s one of the major economic injustices of our times.”

“Oh, I think you’re right: the economics of it are monstrous.”

“So you’re a hypocrite then, ain’t ya?”

“Not at all. I’ve been in this ‘scam’, as you put it, for a couple of thousand years and I’d prefer to call it ‘land banking’. Unlike your modern short-term money-grabbers I’ve conducted a careful strategy to help make London what it is today. And, quite honestly, there’s no one else but a Time Keeper who could be trusted with the letting arrangements for the intergalactic elite for their tours of duty on Earth.”

“Like, you have
got
to be kidding me this time.”

“I assure you, my cousin is not pulling your leg, Kevin,” said When, entering the kitchen. Trinity, sitting on the floor in her feline form, regarded him coolly. “Good morning. I hope you both slept well in cousin Where’s Spectrel. Did I hear you say that the Rindan consul was causing you concern, Peter?” Kevin noticed When’s lack of a stutter, putting it down to familiarity.

“They had a fake alarm last Sunday. Then when I got there I discovered they were growing polyps for Rindan holy week.”

“In direct contravention of the laws concerning the importation of non-native species,” said When. “May I ask what action you took?”

“They promised they’d get through them by tomorrow. The polyps were all male, and incapable of asexual reproduction.”

“That was very lenient of you, Peter. By rights you should have destroyed them all.”

“Well, the Rindans are alright. They’re a bit funny about holy week and, after fifty years of doing all of this stuff on my own, I could have done without the paperwork.” When looked self-conscious as the Doctor spat out that last sentence with a trace of bitterness. “I probably need to report in to Dolt today. They’ve not responded to me and I’ve got better things to do than chase false alarms.”

“In the absence of your own Spectrel, I’d be happy to give you a lift down there to save you some time.”

“Would you? Thanks, that would be most useful. Kevin, you might as well jump in for the ride. You keep going on about wanting to meet more aliens.” Kevin shot him a look. “I mean out-of-towners. Maybe I do need to get you out more. So far, the only ones you’ve met have been trying to kill you. With that, and your daft
Rorrim
alien-bashing videogame you have a totally distorted view of the Pleasant universe. Come on. Trin, you’d better stay here.”

Kevin was second into When’s Spectrel, and the Doctor was last. The fact that he had to stoop down and then squeeze through the small door in the red pillar box made the contrast between the outside and inside of the Spectrel greater.

The interior contrasted with Where and How’s Spectrels. Where’s was ribbed rubber flooring and seats arranged like those in a London black cab. How’s was pure white glowing walls and seats arranged around the circular walls, with a sleek control panel in the centre.

The interior of When’s Spectrel was dim, mostly beige and grey, and something about it reminded him of the ship in the first
Alien
movie – the one the crew of the
Nostromo
had found the eggs in. When’s Spectrel had that air of strange, dark otherness. Not in a bad way or, at least, not
that
bad. After all, the ship the alien eggs had been found in was one which had been overcome by them. Whatever culture the ship had belonged to wasn’t the same species that impregnated hosts’ bodies with carnivorous parasites. He put the line of thought from his head and looked around as his eyes adjusted to the gloom.

As his eyes adjusted, Kevin could see that there were objects in every direction. They cluttered the space so much that he found it difficult to tell how big it was. One of them he thought he recognised – a brass cube sitting on top of an oak table, next to some other artefacts. It was about three inches on each side, with a triangle of brass sticking out like the fin of a shark on each side. There were Roman numerals etched into surfaces. “That’s a sundial,” he said. “But… there’s a sundial on every face of that cube.”

“Very good, Kevin,” said When, with an edge of excitement. “Except for the bottom face of the cube, of course. Made for Cardinal Wolsey during the reign of King Henry VIII. It’s a nice piece, isn’t it? It will tell you the time accurately in London – or anywhere on the same latitude as London. Just put it on a flat surface and line it up north-south.”

“So you need a compass to use it? Or if you knew when midday was, that would be due south. But then you’d not need to know the time if you knew that. Big design flaw, Walter.”

“Unless you happen to be near a building which is lined up precisely on compass bearings. I wonder,” said When, adopting a scholarly tone, “if you could name the sort of building that might be useful, Kevin.”

“Uh…”

“There’s a clue in the name of the person it was made for.”

“Cardinal Woolly. Er, I’m gonna guess it’s a church. Right?”

“Oh,
excellent
, Kevin.”

“And all this other stuff, man. This whole collection. These are all
horological
in nature. Right?”

“Got it in one!” said the ecstatic When.

“Lovely collection, Walter. I tell ya, I went to the museum at the Greenwich observatory on a school trip when I was a kid, you know?”

“Oh, that must have been very inspiring for you,” said When. “Although of course there is a little bit of a maritime bias to that collection. In particular to the work of my friend Mr John Harrison.”

“I just remember clocks, man. Loads of ’em. With weird springs and stuff. So this is like a giant clock museum floating around in the space-time continuum?”

“I suppose you could describe it as such, yes.”

“Great. Only this morning I was thinking that was
exactly
what me and the Doc needed in the fight against the aliens. Maybe we could bore them to death?”

“Each to their own, Kevin,” said How sternly, stifling a smile. “Walter, if you’d be so kind as to let me steer your Spectrel for a moment?”

“By all means, Peter.”

Kevin looked around for a seat, but there was none. He guessed someone like When was more concerned with functionality than comfort, and that guests or passengers were a rarity.

The Doctor stepped over to an oak box, covered in an array of brass dials, which was sitting atop a sturdy table. “It’s been a while,” said the Doctor. “But I have to say the controls are beautifully balanced, Walter.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

“Right, here we are.
Chez
Plensca, Du Cane Court, Balham. A little rude to barge in on them like this, but there you are – it’s their alarm signal. So long as we’re naked when we step into their dwelling, we’re not committing too big a
faux pas
.”

“No,” said Kevin. “No. Freakin’. Way.”

“It’s a trust thing in some societies, Kevin. A bit like shaking hands to show that there’s no weapon in your right hand.”

Kevin laughed manically. “Like, you’re telling me the entire universe is some giant naturist colony?”

“No, that’s
not
what I’m telling you,” said the Doctor, who had already hung his jacket up and was removing his socks. “The Rindan are an ancient people with customs which should be respected. If you’re coming with me on this one, you’re coming naked.”

Kevin stared at the Doctor, who continued to disrobe. When he was down to his underwear the Doctor said, “I take it you’re not coming, then?”

“Like, this is some kind of initiation thing. Right? You has like got a load of other Time Keepers or aliens – I mean
out-of-towners
– out there, wherever that is. Right? Coz out there could be like anywhere in the universe, man. It could be the Alpha Centauri space cadets’ convention out there and I would be none the wiser, would I? And it’s like I just finished my first mission yesterday, so I’m part of some kinda exclusive club now and there’s a bar an’ stuff and there’s a party and I go out there naked and it’s a big joke. My photo gets taken with my bits hangin’ out and lookin’ all surprised and it goes on display in the clubhouse, but that’s me in the club officially because that’s the initiation ceremony. You get me?”

“Oh, good grief,” said the Doctor. “I’ve told you before: Occam’s Razor. The simplest explanation is usually the right one.” He removed his underpants, took his Tsk Army Ultraknife out of his jacket and stepped out of the Spectrel.

“Doctor? Wait!” Kevin hurriedly took his clothes off, letting them fall to the floor whilst When set about pretending to dust a couple of museum pieces. He ran to the Spectrel’s door and bumped into the naked Doctor, who was coming back in.

“For God’s sake, Kevin! Make your mind up, lad.”

“S-sorry, Boss.” Kevin covered his nakedness.

“No need to stand on ceremony now. The Plenscas are dead. Put your clothes back on.”

Stepping into the sitting room of a London apartment from a red Post Office box was a new experience for Kevin. There was a little puff of air as the pillar box disappeared, leaving a hole for the air to fill. How had sent When back for Trinity.

The first thing that Kevin noticed was there was nothing to notice. There was nothing that would mark the sitting room as alien to the untrained eye.

“That’s because they’re bipedal,” said the Doctor, “and about the same height and weight as you lot. They just have to wear biomasks when they want to go out on the street.”

“Biomasks?”

“Yes. Biological outerwear for the out-of-towner. It simulates the human signature in terms of look, smell, basic physiology, fingerprints – the whole shebang. They can go through any scanner in your civilisation and pass for human.”

“Wow! Amazing idea.”

“Thank you. One of my quirkier inventions. The royalties would be much greater if we allowed more people to visit and have diplomatic status.”

“
Whoa
. You mean there are, like, thousands of these people living amongst us?”

“The numbers are confidential, but there are a fair few, yes. Earlier versions weren’t
quite
so reliable, but they’re pretty good now.”

“You mean the masks would… fail?”

“Yes. Ever heard the expression ‘the mask slipped?’”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Believe me, that used to really scare the pants off some of your people.”

“Wait a second… All this stuff about the Grays, and the masks and stuff.”

“What of it?”

“I mean, that’s it, isn’t it? The Grays are here. They’ve been here all along, hiding behind these biomasks!”

“Yes, of course. Look, we can’t just stand here having an expositional conversation.”

“Oh, my God! So it’s true!”

“Partially. They’re not grey, for a start. As you’ve already seen, there’s a whole variety of species here.