Doctor Who: The Blood Cell (17 page)

‘ “Sir”. Unless you want to be shot.’

A small sigh. ‘Well, all right, sir. Of course.’ His hands were out, placating. ‘You have a gun, sir. I have enormous respect for guns and the people who carry them. Always have.’ He gave Clara a wink at this point and muttered to her. ‘Clara. I’m going to need the full 3B from you in a moment.’ What’s he up to? I thought.

‘Listen, sir, you and I both know how this is going to be. You have the gun. You have the barricaded door. You have control of the TransNet. You have all the power. And us? Well, what are we? A prisoner, a political failure, and a girl in a tea-dress.’

‘Hello!’ waved Clara.

Bentley’s face appeared through the window in the door. She stared at Clara.

‘Her? Where’s she come from?’ Bentley sounded more afraid than anything else.

‘Oh …’ Clara said. ‘Outside. I’m technically on remand. Isn’t that right?’

I nodded. ‘She damaged prison property.’

‘She’s brought lies in with her,’ snapped Bentley.

‘Um, no,’ said Clara. For a moment she looked a little cross. Then her sweet smile returned. She stepped forward, edging the Doctor out of the way. I realised that she wasn’t at all afraid of the gun Bentley was pointing at her. ‘Can I just check – you are in charge here, aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘I didn’t think the Governor could be. I mean … not really. Well, look at him.’

I frowned, feeling a touch betrayed.

‘No, he’s never been in charge,’ Bentley snarled. ‘They told me he was, but it was easy to bypass him. To take command. He’s weak.’ Bentley spat the words out.

‘Oh yes, yes, he is,’ agreed Clara, soothingly. She was oddly close to the door. ‘I’m a teacher, you know.’ She was being lightly conversational. ‘My class is full of boys like him. And they do all right … I suppose. Not wonderfully well, but not awfully. They get by on the minimum of homework. Just scraping through.’

‘They do the reading, but they don’t understand,’ was Bentley’s surprising contribution. ‘I had a friend – Gillian.’ I realised she was talking about Donaldson. How awful. I’d known her first name but never used it. ‘Before she was a Guardian here she was a teacher. She said teaching boys was just like that.’

‘Oh yes,’ Clara nodded enthusiastically. ‘The Doctor’s the same as the boys in 3B, you know.’

The Doctor nodded seriously.

‘So come on,’ Clara went on. ‘Just you and me … Tell me what’s really going on here. I mean, they’d never spot it in a million years. They just don’t understand.’

‘Ah …’ Bentley wasn’t quite that stupid. ‘Why should I tell you?’ she sneered. ‘You’re working for the Doctor. You’re his accomplice.’

Clara put her hands on her hips and laughed. It was a really charming laugh. When people say ‘her face lit up’ it’s hard to tell what they mean until you really see it. I suddenly wished Helen and I had had a daughter. She’d have been just like Clara.

‘I’m working for the Doctor?’ She rolled her eyes and smiled with all of her ruby-red lips. ‘Oh please. He works for me. He’s my front man. Come on, if he really was in charge, do you think he’d have been stupid enough to get himself locked up?’

The Doctor made a noise.

‘He makes a lot of noise and fuss. And I just quietly get on with running things.’

‘I know just how you feel,’ admitted Bentley. She’d swung the door open, standing behind her barricade of desks and chairs, facing Clara. She was still aiming the gun. Directly at Clara. If she’d fired it, Clara would have been pulp. But Clara just didn’t care.

‘Now then.’ Clara was all business. ‘I know that
you’re not going to trust me. You’re too smart to. But I’m betting that you’re just about now realising that you’ve been … shall we say … a little let down by the HomeWorld? Am I right? You were clever enough to finally work out what was going on with the system failures, and they admitted it, and they led you to expect that, when The Prison shut down, all the Guardians would be rescued. Instead the Custodians have turned on all of you. And you’re finding that no one back home is answering your alerts on the TransNet. Correct?’

Bentley looked at her for a long moment. ‘Correct. We’re cut off.’

‘Right about now, the penny is dropping isn’t it?’ Clara puckered her face in coaxing sympathy.

‘They don’t want there to be any survivors. Any witnesses,’ whispered Bentley hollowly. ‘There’s no escape from here. The only possibility was … was Level 7.’

Clara nodded. ‘Don’t worry about that. I rescued them all.’

‘You’re lying,’ hissed Bentley.

‘Well why would I?’ snapped Clara. Her patience was wearing thin. ‘Won’t someone stop thinking of the children? I’ve had to share my ship with that creepy … oh what was his name … The Oracle? He kept trying to tell me my fortune and assuring everyone that he knew that was going to happen.
While crying with relief. Anyway, he says hello, by the way. And –’ Clara’s brow darkened – ‘that you knew it would come under attack.’

‘I couldn’t stop it from happening,’ said Bentley. ‘I had no idea.’ The statements were contradictory. I wondered how wrong I’d been to trust her at all at any point. She’d been working against me all along.

‘I’m sure you did your best,’ Clara said, shooting me a warning look. I was about to say something about how Bentley had herded people onto that ship and sent it off, thinking they were all going to die. But seeing Clara’s look, I shut up.

‘So …’ Clara continued, ‘Of course you did your best. And HomeWorld said that they’d come for you. But they’re not coming, are they?’

‘No …’ admitted Bentley. ‘And there’s only a few hours before the systems shut down completely. Life support is already failing. The Defence Array is bombarding us. We may freeze. We may suffocate. We may get blown up. If the Custodians don’t find us first.’

‘It’s not a problem, actually,’ insisted Clara. ‘I’ve still got my spacecraft.’

‘No.’ And here Bentley gloated. She always loved having an advantage over someone. ‘I’ve seen what the Defence Array’s done to the surface of this asteroid. It’s scoured it. If it was on the landing pad, your ship will be dust.’

Clara shook her head. ‘It’s actually very resilient. Indestructible. Stubborn. It’s the one reason why I keep the Doctor on as my driver. He’s a hopeless pilot, but his ship … trust me … his ship is going nowhere. I can take you to it. Come on now,’ she continued. ‘Why not pop down the gun and come out, and you and I will go find my ship. Don’t worry about my boys.’ She indicated us. ‘They’ll stay well back.’

There was a pause, and then Bentley came out of the TransNet room, and surveyed Clara. She was still holding the gun, but it was by her side.

‘I’ll think I’ll keep the gun,’ announced Bentley firmly, but with a touch of the sulky child.

‘Oh, I was sure of that,’ said Clara, a touch sadly. ‘You’re the type. Come along. Let’s go find the ship.’ She turned back to the Doctor. ‘You two, see if you can round any other survivors up. We’ll see you back at the ranch.’

And then, calmly, they walked out of the Control Station.

The Doctor turned to me and let out a huge breath. ‘I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t stand people with guns any more. I used to be able to handle it, but … I guess it’s old age.’ He hobbled painfully towards the TransNet booth. ‘However, it’s got us some access.’

‘What about Clara?’

The Doctor limped forward, and hunched over the
TransNet terminal. ‘She’s using her full-on “Taking Class 3B for History” mode. She’s bombproof like that.’

He pecked away at the keys, trying to get into the TransNet. ‘Lovely,’ he said. ‘It’s like a dial-up modem without the constant whining. But I think I’m about to find out what’s going on back home. Just a few more seconds.’

Which was when we heard the screams from the corridor.

The long corridor outside was empty. There was no sign of Bentley or Clara. The Doctor stood at the intersection, shouting Clara’s name. He made to run off, took a few stumbling steps, howled in pain and frustration, and then pulled up to a halt, limping back to me. His face thundered.

‘You!’ His finger jabbed at me. ‘This is all your fault.’

‘Probably,’ I agreed with him glumly. ‘How exactly?’

‘Because …’ And the Doctor paused. ‘Actually, tell you what, pick a reason. I’m busy.’ He stood there. He didn’t look busy. He looked lost.

‘Did a Custodian take them?’

‘Not a helpful question,’ the Doctor snapped. ‘They’re just killing. No. It’s whatever that other creature was.’

‘But that’s also killing.’

‘Yes, and leaving the bodies lying around. But it’s also taking some of them. So maybe, maybe there’s just the tiniest chance for her. For both her and
Bentley. But, just so’s you know, it’s mostly Clara I care about.’

‘Me too.’

‘Anyway –’ his face twisted nastily – ‘Bentley will be fine. She’s got a superior attitude and a gun. That never fails.’

I coughed. ‘Doctor, if I may … I preferred you when you were less ranty.’

‘Believe me, I’ve shouted whole planets out of the skies.’

‘But … this whole prison is tearing itself apart. And apparently the HomeWorld is too. Aren’t there more important things? Than, er, than …’

‘Do go on.’ His tone was deadly.

‘… Than the girl,’ I finished feebly.

He spun round and only winced a little. ‘No. And you know that, don’t you?’

I did. I rather liked Clara. I nodded.

The Doctor smiled back at me. Just a little.

‘I was just, well, saying …’ I stammered a little. ‘I was just saying the right thing.’

The Doctor held up a hand. ‘Governor,’ he said, ‘Starting from now until all this is over, don’t bother saying the right thing. Take your better nature out for a trot around the block. It needs the exercise.’ He vanished back into the Control Station.

The Doctor surveyed the ruined Control Station and
then went over to the prison map.

‘Something’s hiding inside this prison – or rather, something’s been hidden from you.’ He waved a hand at the map. ‘Now, you see … We take maps on trust. We have to, otherwise the world wouldn’t work. We’d spend all day wondering if someone’s cut a few corners on the coastline or left out some shops. But what if the map was part of the lie?’

I looked at the map of The Prison. It was so familiar to me. I knew every step of it. All six levels and conduits leading down to Level 7.

‘Thing is,’ said the Doctor, ‘it’s just a computer image. It’s not real. If we want to find Clara and Bentley, we have to make it real. Luckily, you’ve got the most sensitive scanning equipment in the system here. The only problem is it’s dedicated to scanning the skies for any approaching craft. Now, I’m going to turn it inwards, but to do that I need …’

The Doctor dived under the wreckage of a terminal.

‘I need a shopping trolley,’ he said, emerging.

‘What?’

‘Shopping trolley … shopping trolley … Marge Simpson,’ he snapped, performing a mystical mime. ‘Old dance move from the Astoria. I’m trying to tell you I really need to get my anti-grav trolley. Which is full of lovely things I stole from the workshop. Including a network hub controller.’

‘What’s one of those?’

‘That’s why I said “lovely things”. I don’t just do it for effect,’ The Doctor beamed. ‘Just bring me the lot. It’ll save time. If I’m right, it’s parked down on the stairs by Level 4. Can you pop down and get it for me?’

‘Alone?’

‘Alone.’ The Doctor tugged at the cabling. ‘I’m busy and immobile. And maybe, if you see any Custodians they’ll leave you alone. After all, you are the Governor.’

‘I think that’s precisely why they will kill me.’

‘Ah, well in that case, good luck.’ With a grin, the Doctor vanished under the console.

‘I, ah …’

‘You’ve got ten minutes before the lack of a network hub controller irritates me,’ he growled. ‘Get going, Governor.’

‘I have a name you know,’ I said, a little hurt.

‘Sure you do,’ his voice muttered indistinctly, ‘But it’s a little late for learning new facts now, isn’t it?’

I left him to it and found the staircase. In case you’re wondering, I didn’t feel at all happy about this. I didn’t have a gun. I didn’t have anything. Just a really nervous expression. I got the feeling the Doctor and Clara ran up and down corridors all the time. But I just felt very alone and frightened.

In theory it was very straightforward. Just go down four flights of stairs, and collect the Doctor’s trolley. But the lights had gone in the stairwell. I made do by
toggling the light on my communications blipper as a torch. It would shine for five seconds and then go off. I could see where I was going. I could pick my way over the bodies.

From time to time the asteroid shook and lurched. The Defence Array was still pounding away at the surface of the rock. We were fairly solid, but even so, at some point there would be an explosive decompression. And maybe that would be it. Maybe all my worries would be over when I was sucked screaming out into space. I’d never have to worry about everything I’d got wrong in my life ever again. I could just enjoy a little peace.

I smiled at that.

My comm blipped. At first I could hear breathing. I nearly spoke back to it, but an instinct stilled me. I could just hear breathing and another noise. A steady clicking. Then a voice. It was Bentley’s. She sounded in great pain.

‘Please … let me go … take her …’

‘Thanks.’

Well, that was Clara accounted for.

‘Why are you doing this? What can you want with us?’

More dragging.

‘Yeah,’ Clara again. ‘I’m just a tourist, and Tin Knickers here doesn’t strike me as cooperative.’

More dragging.

Bentley spoke again. ‘Where are you taking us? You’ve brought us all the way down here.’

‘Yes.’ Clara sounded wooden. ‘I mean, where are we now, would you say?’

‘Well,’ began Bentley. ‘We’re on Lev—’ She cried out in sudden pain and then the comm terminated.

Shaken, I moved on further down the staircase.

And then I heard it. The gliding noise. I was on Level 3. Just one more flight of stairs to go. But the stairwell was hopelessly blocked by rubble. And, just beyond the door was the unmistakeable sound of a Custodian, gliding forwards and backwards. Waiting for me.