A Device Of Death Part 13

'And we're going along for the ride whether we like it or not.'

'That is correct.'

Sarah tried to sound optimistic, but it took a considerable effort. 'Well, it could be worse, I suppose. We'll think of something to do before we reach the other end.' She yawned.

'But I really must have a nap first or I won't be able to think straight. Why don't you, uh, get a full charge, or whatever.'

From deep down in the s.h.i.+p there came a rising whine, then a shrill scream of metal on metal. There was a short sharp bang, a dying rattle, and a puff of smoke was expelled from the ventilation duct before the hum of the fans faded away into ominous silence. Sarah coughed then swallowed anxiously and looked at her companion.

'Things just got worse, didn't they, Max?'

'It is probable that they have, Sarah.'

'Remind me to tell you about white lies, Max.'

The freighter's life-system was a mess. Signs suggested its failure was due to poor maintenance; maybe n.o.body had told the crew to look after it, and they certainly had no great personal incentive. However, the system was reparable, Max a.s.sured Sarah, given two or three days' hard work.

Unfortunately, unless they reached their destination well before then, Sarah would not be alive by the time the job was finished. For reasons probably also a.s.sociated with the nature of the crew, the emergency reserve oxygen tanks were drained, there were no s.p.a.cesuits or medical kit, and the single escape pod bay was empty.

Four hours later Sarah sat wrapped in blankets and s.h.i.+vering in the control room, trying not to move about or think of rising CO2 levels. The air should have stayed relatively fresh for longer, but the smoke from the life-system burnout had penetrated most of the s.h.i.+p before they could close off the ducts, leaving a thin haze that would not disperse.

She watched Max activate the emergency beacon. There was no other choice.

'Remember.' she said huskily, 'if I don't make it, find the Doctor or Harry Sullivan and tell them about the Averon moon camp. They must do something about it.'

'You have told me this already, Sarah, and I cannot forget.

But your instructions are redundant. You will be rescued and so communicate this information to your friends in person.'

His voice actually had a sincere ring to it.

'You learn quickly, Max.'

'Thank you, Sarah. Now I advise you to stop talking'

Time dragged by. Sarah slid gently into semi-consciousness and her mind wandered. To avoid dwelling on her own fate she thought about Max. For some reason she was worried about him. Though he was just a machine she'd known a few hours, he seemed to have developed a distinctive sort of personality even in that short time. Which was absurd unless the new mental pathways in his damaged brain had caused some radical change in his nature. Was he actually becoming a self-aware individual, or just responding to his programming more flexibly?

Perhaps she was simply indulging in anthropomorphism.

She had every right to be in the circ.u.mstances.

The last thing she remembered before the darkness closed about her was Max's red eyes. She could almost believe they glowed with concern.

17.

Alarms and Excursions he disorder in the storage room was peculiarly localized, Cara o T bserved.

The Doctor's s.p.a.ce pod seemed to have been knocked off its supporting trestles, and two freestanding shelving stacks had apparently been pushed over on either side of it, so that they fell outwards, spilling their contents across the floor. The cause remained a mystery. It was no more damage than a man could have done in a minute, except that everything indicated it had occurred when the room was unoccupied and securely locked. The Doctor poked around the remains moodily with the toes of his boots, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jacket. He wore a preoccupied scowl and rolled his lower lip thoughtfully.

'I just thought you ought to know, because your property also seems to have been disturbed, but it doesn't seem to be damaged,' Cara explained. 'I know you've been in to look at the pod quite often. Has it brought back any more memories yet?'

'Not yet, but I feel it represents something important. And there's still a name I can't remember. I feel if I knew what it was everything else would fit into place, and then I could find my friends.' He looked at the pod again. 'Oddly enough I had a dream about it last night.'

'Is that odd? We all dream. Uh, of course, I was forgetting again. What was it about?'

'My friends were calling to me. "Turn it on its head," I think they were saying. Then there was this pod and figures in long robes whose names I thought I ought to know. They were speaking to me but this time I couldn't hear their words. Then a flas.h.i.+ng light, and an image of a blue box which seemed very important.'

'I think there's a fairly standard cryptic a.s.sociation of images for a dream. It could have been worse, believe me,' she added with the voice of bitter experience. 'Most of it's anxiety and unfounded guilt, probably, but the rest might just be nonsense. Try not to worry about it. Talking of nonsense, how's that device I can't make head or tail of coming along?

When are you going to let us know what it actually does?'

The Doctor looked at her thoughtfully, then drew her aside from the lab a.s.sistants who were restacking the shelves. 'Well, if you'll give me a hand you might see it working very soon.

There's something about Deepcity that I have to know, but I'm sure Director Kambril, for his own reasons, won't want me to find out.'

'Has this got anything to do with that ridiculous performance in the corridor the other night?'

'It does as it happens. I'd like to take a look inside the secure files room without anybody peering over my shoulder.'

'Doctor, you can hardly expect me to help you break security. Those files are kept there for a very good reason '

'Did I say I wanted the files? I promise I won't interfere with them in any way. It's the room itself that I want to examine. Now there's no reason I can't do that, is there?'

'The room? I don't understand.'

'Cara: do you believe in knowing the truth?'

There was a new stern depth to his voice she hadn't heard before, and suddenly she was conscious of how alien he truly was, and yet at the same moment it was her grandfather talking to her, and she was a small girl again.

'Yes, Doctor,' she replied meekly.

'Even if it hurts?'

'She took a deep breath. 'Yes. I believe we have to face up to reality in the end, no matter what.'

'Well, I have to discover the truth about something for the best of all possible reasons, but I'm afraid the consequences will be painful to many people.'

'The truth about what? Can't you tell me?'

'It might be best if you didn't know for the moment.'

'That sounds rather ominous,' she said, trying to sound offhand though she could tell he was deadly serious.

'You already have enough clues. Apply the scientific method and you'll be able to work out the rest, perhaps, if you discard your preconceptions. But I advise you to keep any conclusions to yourself, even if you don't believe them.'

'Doctor, you're starting to worry me.'

'I said it might hurt, remember? Now will you help me?'

She looked at him intently, trying to read beneath the baffling exterior. 'Do you swear that whatever you're planning will not harm Deepcity or our cause?'

'I promise you, if my suspicions are confirmed, I can help end this war.'

And she believed him.

The short curtains swished aside to reveal the picture, and Elyze Brant joined in the round of applause.

Admiral Dorling stood back from the portrait, which depicted him in full uniform against a backdrop of stars and moons, then turned to Neels Prander and said something about a flattering likeness. Other members of Deepcity's senior staff, most of whom were present, politely disagreed with their distinguished guest, and complimented Prander on his work.

The party then proceeded down the gallery.

The 'gallery' was a long broad public corridor between the residential units and the administration centre. Amateur artwork of all descriptions was regularly displayed there, including creations by the children of the complex's school.

Dorling stopped to admire some of their work and congratulate a small group of young fresh-faced budding artists, who squirmed in excited embarra.s.sment. After a minute the admiral's aide, Lieutenant Selto, touched his arm, reminding him that they had to move on to the next stage of the tour, but the admiral appeared to ignore him and went on chatting to the children for some time, before proceeding on at his own pace. As he moved away, Elyze noticed the admiral seemed slightly distracted and almost impatient with his junior officers.

She saw the Doctor had stopped to examine the work on display, and she lingered to watch. Some of the children turned their attention to him, attracted by his colourful costume and trailing scarf They cl.u.s.tered round and asked where he had come from. He patiently answered their questions, cheerfully mixing fact and nonsense and pretending to be dismayed when they caught him out. Eventually their teachers led them away, still waving to the Doctor. Prander had also remained in the gallery to supervise the clearing away of the unveiling curtains. The Doctor wandered over and gazed at his latest work.

'You've caught his likeness very well,' he commented after a minute's study.

'Thank you, Doctor.'

'A portrait of an unashamedly patriotic hero, in fact.'

'Those are the qualities I see in him,' Prander admitted simply. 'I know at various times in history those attributes have gone out of fas.h.i.+on, but I value them, along with loyalty and duty.'

'Quite. Very much in keeping with the rest of your works in fact,' observed the Doctor, waving a hand along the gallery.

'You seem to be the most prolific contributor here, and I can't help noticing recurring themes. Conflict, the great struggle and death. Even some of the children's art echoes it, when they should be drawing trees and sky in the wrong-coloured crayon and unrecognizable stick figures of their parents. Is this early exposure to harsh reality good for them?'

'They must understand the world they are growing up in. I don't pretend that war is pretty. I've been out on a few battlefields myself, you know.'

'So have I,' said the Doctor. 'And I didn't enjoy the experience.'

'My work doesn't celebrate conflict, Doctor, but we have no choice. If we cannot finish this war soon, they are going to be our next generation of designers and technicians.'

'Doesn't that possibility depress you?'

'It's a necessity a question of duty and survival. No power like Averon must ever be allowed to threaten decent people again. And if I can play my part in ensuring that happens, I will. We must never forget Landor and what Averon did to it.'

'Yes, I noticed your painting of Landor: "Home". Very moving. You're obviously pa.s.sionate about it, despite the fact that you can hardly be old enough to remember it yourself.

You don't think it might confuse the children? They must regard Deepcity as their home now.'

'They mustn't forget their inheritance.'

'No, but they must be free to learn as well. Not to take on the burden of the previous generation's fears and prejudices uncritically. Eventually the book must be closed and the past allowed to rest for the sake of the future. A peaceful future.'

'Peace demands certain sacrifices.'

'Victory at any price?'

'Yes.'

The Doctor smiled grimly. 'You don't mean that literally, do you? Not at any price? Because if you do we are talking about blind revenge; a very different thing to fighting for survival. Revenge tends to breed reprisal and a never-ending vicious circle. It has to stop somewhere. Suppose I were to offer you the surrender of the Union, with all the safeguards against renewed hostilities you could wish for, would you accept?'

'Averon would never surrender.'

'The rest of the Union might secede from it, given a chance. After all these years they must be heartily sick of the war.'

'There have been plenty of chances for peace between individual Union and Alliance worlds. We haven't stood in their way. But the Union always breaks their word sooner or later.'

'Yes, you even portray their treachery, I notice.' He nodded towards a row of paintings. ' Betrayal on Kanthos, The Betrayal on Kanthos, The shattered dream, Ambus.h.!.+ shattered dream, Ambus.h.!.+ Clever the way you put human nuances of expression on to alien faces. You can tell they are deceitful just by looking at them.' Clever the way you put human nuances of expression on to alien faces. You can tell they are deceitful just by looking at them.'

'It's historical fact. They must learn that you can't trust a bunch of ' Prander bit back his next words, but the Doctor beamed at him with cold satisfaction.

'You don't really like non-humans much, do you, Mr Prander? Lucky you don't get many of them visiting Deepcity.

By the way, when do you want me for my first sitting?'

Prander turned and walked stiffly away.

You're a fool, Neels Prander, Elyze thought angrily. Then she realized the Doctor was now looking at her. His eyes seemed to penetrate depths she'd rather stayed hidden, and it was as if he could read all her fears and discontent. She turned away. How much did he know?

Malf threw his admiral's cap down on his bed and rounded on Hevist and Selto like a dog that has been kicked once too often.

'Never hurry me along like that in public again,' he exclaimed angrily.

'You keep up to schedule,' Hevist replied.

'Are you questioning my sense of timing? I was drawing out a performance before you two were even born. You don't simply leave the stage, you make an exit graciously. Besides, Dorling wouldn't leave a crowd of disappointed juniors in his wake. I know him.'

'Really.'