Doctor Who_ Cat's Cradle_ Warhead Part 21

'So, which drug is doing this to me?' said Justine.

The floor of the pub consisted of bare planks scattered with sawdust, and the sawdust was doing a surprisingly good job of soaking up the blood. However, there were thick puddles here and there, and it was in the puddles that the policemen were dancing. Most of the policemen were completely naked now except for their socks and big clumsy boots.

The one coming towards Justine's table was also still wearing his striped CID tie.

Justine leaned closer to Mrs Woodcott, who had put on her spectacles and was now watching the policemen with some interest.

'Is it the neurotoxin or the billy?' said Justine.

The pale damp skin of the policemen had a p.r.o.nounced mottling now, a diseased fungus appearance. They moved and danced more or less as a single unit and now they began to caress each other lasciviously.

'Right, that's it,' the fat man behind the bar sighed and stopped drying beer mugs. 'Gents, gents, you're well out of order.' He was reaching to ring the bra.s.s bell over the bar when two of the policemen dragged him to the floor and began to dismember him.

'In answer to your question, most likely neither,' said Mrs Woodcott.

'Neither?'

The CID man with the tie reached the table just as Justine ran for the bar. She jumped up on the beer and bloodsoaked surface and pulled one of the ornamental sabres down. The blade snagged on the string of Christmas tree lights but it had an edge on it like a razor blade. It sliced through the wire as Justine pulled it free. It went through the CID man's neck almost as easily.

'No dear,' said Mrs Woodcott. 'These hallucinations are almost certainly being caused by a little something extra I slipped in. A mindbendingly powerful psychedelic, for instance.'

'You mischievous old b.i.t.c.h,' said Justine, swinging the sword again.

Mrs Woodcott's whitehaired old head went spinning across the pub floor and struck the bra.s.s foot rail in front of the bar. It sounded like a bowling ball hitting the bra.s.s.

'Ouch,' said Mrs Woodcott's head. 'I didn't do it purely because I was a mischievous old b.i.t.c.h, however.'

The other policemen had begun to pay a little more attention to Justine since she had decapitated their colleague. They were closing in on her. Justine kicked Mrs Woodcott's head through the halfopened door to the men's toilets, and followed it through. She slammed the door behind her and bolted it.

'You see,' Mrs Woodcott's head was saying, 'these hallucinatory dreams are triggered to occur after the amphetamine takes effect. They happen as you begin to wake up. They help you orientate yourself and prepare yourself for consciousness.'

'They've been a great help, thanks,' said Justine. She nudged Mrs Woodcott's head with the toe of her shoe and sent it splas.h.i.+ng into the br.i.m.m.i.n.g urinal.

The head surfaced, spluttering and blinking. 'You should listen to me, dear. I am, if you like, the voice of your conscience. You are probably close to waking up and there are things you must remember.'

'I know. I'm beginning to remember some of them. Like Vincent. He's the reason I'm here.' Justine had to shout to make herself heard. The policemen were outside the lavatory door, trying to batter it down. 'I like all sorts of stupid things about Vincent. The way he talks and the way his mouth looks when he's smiling. And I like the fact that he's got powers. It's like he has a demon inside him.'

'That's nice, dear,' said Mrs Woodcott, bobbing in the reeking urinal puddle.

'I want to get rid of that c.r.a.p haircut of his and teach him things. Teach him not to say any of those stupid American things. Get him to dress nicely. Go to the pub with him. Show him off to people. And, you know, maybe use that demon in him a bit.'

'Ah, young love,' s...o...b..red Mrs Woodcott's head. Bubbles were trickling up from her mouth as she began to go under.

Justine dragged her out of the urinal and slammed her into the nearest sink. 'I guess I really do like him a lot.' She ran the taps, cleaning off Mrs Woodcott and her own hands. 'That's why I took that capsule in the drugstore. It was supposed to make me look like I was dead.'

'Oh it did, believe me, it did.'

'Then I was supposed to be picked up by a medical team. It's a bit like a morgue party. They take me somewhere and I wake up inside, when they least expect it. Except I'm going inside a place called the King Building. That's where they took Vincent. It's all part of the Doctor's plan.'

'But the point is, they didn't keep Vincent there,' said Mrs Woodcott from the sink. 'And don't talk to me about the Doctor's plan. You didn't even wait until you were properly briefed.'

The battering noises were getting louder. It sounded as if the door would come off its hinges any second.

'I'm supposed to wake up inside the King Building and let the others in.' Justine took Mrs Woodcott's head out of the sink. She set it upright on top of a cigaretteburned towel holder. Mrs Woodcott's eyes were on the same level as Justine's now.

'But you couldn't wait for the proper time could you? You stupid girl.' Mrs Woodcott's voice was changing. It was more like a young woman's. And there was something subtly different about her eyes. Justine noticed that the pounding at the door was subsiding. It wasn't as if the policemen were giving up. They were still attacking with ferocity but the sound itself was growing distant. It was as if someone was turning the sound down on a video.

'Am I coming out of the drug now?'

'I certainly hope so,' said Mrs Woodcott in her young woman's voice. There was something familiar about that voice. And the eyes. Justine could identify the eyes now. They weren't Mrs Woodcott's.

They were Ace's.

In fact it was Ace's face she was looking at. Ace standing in front of her, instead of Mrs Woodcott's head propped up on a towel container. Justine looked around herself. She wasn't in the men's room of a pub any more. She was in a big openplan office with floortoceiling windows. Beyond the windows was the night skyline of New York, gla.s.s skysc.r.a.pers with random small squares of light where people were working late. This office was deserted. From what Justine could see it was full of desks and computers, each desk divided into its own little area by lightweight part.i.tions. But the part.i.tions around this one had all been knocked over, as if there had been a struggle. Some of the part.i.tions had computerprinted charts on them. Others had large coloured photographs of spreadeagled young women. A man was lying beside the computer, sprawled across the desk, his face discoloured and bruised. Justine looked at the man, then at Ace. She realized that Ace was breathing hard, as if she'd just worked out or run a footrace.

'Geezer's name is Christian. He was down on the fiftyfirst floor when their equipment blew the whistle on you. Unfortunately that drug still leaves detectable brain activity.'

'What happened?' said Justine.

'They detected it. So Christian brought you up here. If the biostock isn't dead he gets first dibs, apparently.' Ace looked at the unconscious man. 'I hit him a bit harder than I meant to.'

'Thank you,' said Justine.

'You've been a right pain in the a.r.s.e to everyone,' said Ace. She took something from the pocket of her jacket. It was a small blue card like a credit card. Ace threw it on to the desk beside Christian's face. 'I had to do your bit. It was me who had to let the others into this place.'

'Have you got Vincent with you?'

'No, it's the Doctor and a couple of cops.'

'I've just had a dream about very strange policemen,' said Justine.

'You ain't seen nothing yet,' said Ace. She sat down at the desk, shoving the unconscious man over so she could get at the keyboard of the computer. Justine saw that there had been some kind of modification to the computer. A communications cable connected it to a single large chip that sat in a small box on the desk. The chip had a luminous line glowing all around it. Ace was typing on the screen. Glowing words appeared on the computer screen.

Where's the Doctor?

A moment later a response pushed up on the screen in a strange format, only three characters wide: ONR.

OOF.

WIT.

HHE.

LIC.

OPT.

ER.

How do we get up there? Ace typed. Ace typed.

ELE.

VAT.

ORC.

OMI.

NGU.

P.

The corridor outside the office was dim except for access lights and silent except for a whisper of air conditioning. Ace and Justine stood on the thick carpet waiting for an elevator. The flas.h.i.+ng lights on the control panels showed that all six elevators were heading for their floor.

'Which one is ours?' said Justine.

'We've got a friend who can play this place like an arcade game,' said Ace. She showed Justine the box with the chip inside it. The thin line around the chip glowed in the halflight. 'All of them are ours.'

But the first elevator to arrive had two Butler Inst.i.tute security guards sitting in it, blankeyed and dead. Ace and Justine stepped back quickly and the elevator stayed open for a minute, light s.h.i.+ning out into the corridor. Then its doors whispered shut. Behind them, on the other side of the corridor, another elevator was opening. Ace and Justine turned to see a figure in combat armour, holding a gun. The figure's face was a blank curve of mirror: the faceplate of a Vickers weapons helmet. It hinged up as one gloved hand pulled it back. Mancuso's eyes frowned from inside.

'Are you coming or what?'

From the roof of the King Building the Sat.u.r.daynight traffic looked like toys. Justine began to feel a sense of vertigo, so she pulled herself back from the guard rail and retreated from the edge of the roof. She stared up at the sky. It was the middle of the night but the glow of the city illuminated grey rolling ma.s.ses of cloud. The air was almost clear enough to breathe. Justine turned and walked back towards the centre of the rooftop. Ace was waiting for her by the helicopter, wind blowing in her hair. 'Ready to go,' she said.

Inside the helicopter the Doctor and Mancuso were already strapped into their seats. 'Can you fly this?' said Justine, choosing the seat immediately behind the Doctor.

'No,' said the Doctor.

'Neither can I,' said Mancuso. 'But I know someone who can.' She made some final adjustments on the communications link she had attached to the autopilot. The other end was connected to the large chip in its box, resting on the seat between Mancuso and the Doctor. Ace settled into the seat behind Mancuso, fastening her seat belt as the engines began to pulse and the helicopter rose into the night.

23.

'Christ, it's ma.s.sive. It's even bigger than the Channel Tunnel.' Ace wiped at the window where her breath was fogging. The heating in the canteen building seemed to have been left on high for the weekend and the window misted again as soon as she wiped a portion clear. Through the filmy gla.s.s she could just about see the excavation in the early morning light.

'Wider at the mouth, but not as long, of course,' said the Doctor. 'It's essentially just a large bunker built to protect the machinery inside. You could say it's just one vast computer room built into the mountain.' The Doctor was sitting at one of the big tables that filled the prefabricated hut. Justine was back at the door of the building, trying for the third time to make it stay shut. Ace wished she'd just give up. The constant rattling noise was beginning to get to her. She still felt a little airsick after the flight in the helicopter. And besides, the lock was broken beyond repair; Ace knew that because she had been the one who kicked the door in.

The helicopter had landed in the first light of dawn, settling expertly on to the landing circle in a cleared section of forest, the rotors sweeping frost off the gra.s.s and battering it to dew. There had been ground mist rising among the surrounding mountain trees. They walked through a thin fringe of forest before they reached the wide cleared zone of the project site. The helicopter pad was situated halfway between O'Hara's house and the big excavation on the mountainside.

Mancuso had gone uphill to the house while the Doctor led the others down to the excavation.

'Why do we have to wait in here?' said Justine.

'We don't,' said the Doctor. 'But I wanted you to have a good look at the construction site. Our target.'

'It's like a ghost town. Where is everyone?'

'Read the bulletin board,' said Ace. 'On Sunday all employees have the day off. They go into Albany for shopping or wors.h.i.+p at the church of their choice.'

'There's still a skeleton maintenance staff in the tunnel, so keep the lights off in here.' The Doctor's chair sc.r.a.ped back as he got up and joined Ace, looking out the window. The day was getting steadily brighter as the sun came up over the mountains. The square kilometre of ground outside the excavation was clearly visible now, an ocean of mud with bare patches of concrete rising out of it. Vehicles with beeandeye logos were parked on the concrete. 'And the security guards of course.' Spotlights gleamed in the tunnel mouth and on the bare rock brow of the mountain above. Further up the slope was O'Hara's large redwood house. The Doctor was peering through the gla.s.s, looking up towards the house. Ace noticed that for some reason his breath wasn't fogging on the window.

'How long do you think it will take up there?' said Justine.

'They're coming down now,' said the Doctor. 'Mancuso has got him.'

A hundred metres from the canteen prefab there were stacks of timber, each about the dimensions of a small house. The timber in the stacks consisted of logs cut to the size of telephone poles. The trees had apparently been chopped down recently; their cut white ends were still sticky and aromatic with resin. Ace stood hidden behind one stack, breathing in the resin smell. As she exhaled her warm breath came out like cigarette smoke on the cold morning air. The Doctor and Justine waited with her, watching the figures come down the slope from the house. Ace felt a deep fatigue waiting somewhere in the background of her mind, a promise of exhaustion as soon as the pressure was off. A wave of sleepiness rolled over her, making the morning and the mountainside unreal. She pressed her thumb against the sticky splintered stump until the flesh under the nail went white. The pain woke her up a little. She needed to be ready. They were entering the final phase. She made herself watch the woman and the boy coming down from the house.

In the lead was the figure in police armour, wearing a Vickers helmet. She was walking beside the teenage boy, watching that he didn't stumble.

'Vincent,' said Justine, staring up at the boy.

'Wait,' said the Doctor, 'Make sure.' But Justine was already beyond the stack of logs, out in the open, running for the path. Ace looked at the Doctor and he shrugged. They followed Justine out into the open. The two figures on the slope were near enough to see now, picking their way down the muddy footpath carved into the mountain rock. The teenage boy was definitely Vincent. The woman's face was concealed behind the mirrored visor of the police helmet. But now she reached up with a gloved hand and thumbed the visor back.

A wisp of blonde hair curled out from the helmet.

Justine was running up the footpath, holding on to the metal handrail that zigzagged up the slope. Now she stopped. The woman in the combat armour was holding a gun, pointing it first at Vincent, then at Justine.

The boy looked thin and tired. He began to speak but the wind carried his words away. He cleared his throat and started again. 'They know everything. They know we're here to destroy the project. And they know how we were planning to do it. Stephanie says that if you come any closer she'll shoot Justine. She knows what will happen if Justine touches me and she won't let that happen. She'll shoot me as well if she has to.'

Vincent hesitated then added, 'Your friend the policewoman is back at the house. I think she's dead.' The mountain wind howled past them in the following silence.

Stephanie glanced back up towards the house to confirm that Mulwray and O'Hara had come out. They were coming down the slope, careful not to slip on the fresh mud. Both of them had handguns. Ace thought she recognized the one O'Hara was holding. It was Mancuso's police sidearm.

The Doctor and Ace stood unmoving behind Justine, at the bottom of the footpath. 'What do we do?' said Ace.

'Don't do anything now,' said the Doctor. 'If we get a chance we have to try to bring Justine and Vincent into contact.'

'But you heard what she said '

'Quiet,' said the Doctor.

The two men from the house had joined Stephanie and Vincent now. They were all coming down the footpath together. Justine came backing down the steps, moving slowly until she was standing with the Doctor and Ace again. Stephanie followed, removing her police helmet now and letting her long blonde hair loose. She stayed between Justine and Vincent, watching both of them.

'It's all right, Stephanie,' said O'Hara. 'I'll look after them. You go and get some security personnel. There'll be some staff on duty in the tunnel.'

'I can use the phone in the canteen,' said Stephanie. She set Mancuso's helmet on the ground as she gathered her hair and folded the braid, securing it with an elastic band to keep it out of her eyes.

'No. Go into the tunnel and make personal contact. Choose people you can trust. Don't tell anyone else.' O'Hara looked at the small group. The teenage boy sat on the bottom step of the footpath, looking alone and miserable. The Doctor standing beside one of the tall stacks of logs, Ace and Justine beside him. 'We may have to take radical action.'