Doctor Who_ Deep Blue Part 3

Guy knew some sort of reaction was called for. He stepped back, dragging the door open as he did so. 'No,' he mumbled, and nodded at the door on his right. 'There.'

'Thank you,' the man said, stepping inside. He gave Guy an encouraging smile. 'Is it all right to go in?'

Guy could only grunt and nod. The itching was becoming unbearable now. As the man stepped past him, Guy thought about ramming a knife into his guts, slas.h.i.+ng his throat. He shuddered and moaned, his hand spasming.

The man gave him another curious look and went into the room Guy had indicated. As soon as the door closed behind him, Guy turned and staggered towards the stairs. He was shaking, his head pounding, his body full of a desperate need. The itching was so bad it was like his skin was being torn by tiny hooks.

He was stumbling like a drunk by the time he reached his room. He fell to his knees beside the bed and scrabbled beneath it. His hand closed around the jar and he yanked it out, almost salivating at the sight of the clear, jelly-like substance inside. He unscrewed the lid, put the jar shakily down on the floor and tore off his T-s.h.i.+rt.

His chest and arms were covered with tiny black quills that had sprouted from his skin. He fingered them for a moment, s.h.i.+vering at the ripples that coursed through his body. He was fascinated and awed and oddly proud of the transformation he was undergoing He picked up the jar with his left hand and delved into it with his right, scooping out a lump of the jelly. Without hesitation he smeared the stuff on his arms and chest where the itching was most concentrated.

Instantly the gel acted like a balm, cooling and soothing his inflamed skin. Guy crooned like an animal and sank to the floor. Soon, when the itching had subsided as much as it was going to, he would go out and find something to kill.

'There's something he's not telling us,' said Tegan. 'I just know it.'

'Feminine intuition?' Turlough smirked.

Tegan flashed him one of her dangerous looks. 'Don't make fun of me, Turlough.'

'I'm not,' Turlough said contritely. 'I just think you're reading something into the situation that isn't there.'

Tegan glanced anxiously across the hotel foyer at the Doctor, who was standing at the reception desk booking rooms for them all. 'You don't think he's behaving strangely?'

'No stranger than usual.'

'You don't think he's being... secretive? Evasive?'

Turlough sighed. 'The Doctor's always secretive. You might as well face up to it, Tegan. You're never going to be privy to his innermost thoughts.'

She glared at him. She still wasn't sure whether Turlough meant meant to belittle her when he spoke like this or whether it was just his way. Whichever, his condescending manner was like a flame to her all-too-short fuse. 'Well, I've known him a lot longer than you have,' she snapped, 'and I reckon he's up to something' to belittle her when he spoke like this or whether it was just his way. Whichever, his condescending manner was like a flame to her all-too-short fuse. 'Well, I've known him a lot longer than you have,' she snapped, 'and I reckon he's up to something'

It had started in the fairground, this vague and distracted manner of the Doctor's, which Tegan felt certain meant there was something rather substantial on his mind. It couldn't still be the events on Sea Base Four which were disturbing him, could it? Tegan knew that the Doctor abhorred violence and regarded violent death as a senseless waste, but he had seen so many tragedies, so many atrocities in his long lives that he tended to put them aside quickly, sometimes forgot them within minutes of re-entering the TARDIS - or so it had always seemed.

No, Tegan felt certain it wasn't that. So, what was it?

Maybe Turlough was right. Was she simply looking for trouble where there wasn't any?

Her anger evaporated and she sighed as doubt crept in to replace it. The thing was, travelling with the Doctor had made her expect expect trouble wherever she went. If she hadn't been captured or shot at within ten minutes of arriving somewhere she became suspicious. Which, to be honest, was no way to be, was it? Perhaps she ought to think about getting out before she became so battle-hardened that her encounters with death became no more distressing than... than breaking a fingernail or stubbing a toe. trouble wherever she went. If she hadn't been captured or shot at within ten minutes of arriving somewhere she became suspicious. Which, to be honest, was no way to be, was it? Perhaps she ought to think about getting out before she became so battle-hardened that her encounters with death became no more distressing than... than breaking a fingernail or stubbing a toe.

The Doctor strode back across the hotel foyer, oblivious to the strange looks he was attracting, and dangled room keys in front of each of his companions' faces. Turlough took his, but Tegan looked up at the Doctor with a frown and asked, 'Why are we staying here?'

The Doctor looked surprised. 'You don't like it?'

'It's not a case of like or dislike. It's...' She paused a moment to collect her thoughts, which gave Turlough the opportunity to insinuate himself silkily into the conversation.

'Tegan thinks you have a hidden agenda, Doctor.'

She went puce with fury, but the Doctor simply looked baffled. 'Hidden agenda? Whatever do you mean?'

Turlough smirked in the face of Tegan's anger and pressed the fingertips of his hands together.

Speaking as though she was biting off each word and spitting it out, Tegan said, 'I just want to know what we're doing here, that's all.'

'Doing?' said the Doctor, still baffled, or feigning it. 'We're having a holiday. I told you, I thought we could all do with one.'

Tegan was irritated by his presumption, but decided not to pursue it; she was more concerned with the matter in hand.

'But why here? We've got our rooms in the TARDIS.'

'What's the point of going on holiday but staying at home?'

said the Doctor.

Tegan sighed again. She was getting nowhere fast. Maybe there was nowhere to to get. 'All right, I'll buy it,' she said. 'But you would tell us if there get. 'All right, I'll buy it,' she said. 'But you would tell us if there was was something wrong, wouldn't you, Doctor?' something wrong, wouldn't you, Doctor?'

'If I thought we had any cause to worry, I'd certainly inform you of the circ.u.mstances,' he a.s.sured her.

The key to the room he had booked for Tegan was still looped over his forefinger. She took it and picked up the bag he had told her to pack in the TARDIS after their afternoon at the fun-fair.

As they waited for the lift, the Doctor rocked back on his heels, hands in pockets, and commented on the architecture.

Turlough nodded but remained silent. Tegan merely grunted.

Their rooms were on the fourth floor. Tegan had 404, Turlough 408 and the Doctor 418 at the end of the corridor.

'See you later,' he said with a brisk smile outside the door to Tegan's room and turned to stride away.

'When later?' she called after him.

'Dinner at seven,' he replied without turning back.

She made an exasperated face, which Turlough, fitting the key into the door of his own room, responded to with what might have been construed as a sympathetic raising of the eyebrows. Tegan went into her room and shut the door.

Looking around, she huffed out a sigh, though in fact it was a very pleasant room, s.p.a.cious and airy with b.u.t.ter-yellow walls and a deep-mattressed double bed. She dumped her bag on the armchair beside the dressing table and strode across to the large window flanked by flowery curtains on the far wall. She opened the window wide and, sticking her head out, closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.

Immediately, she felt calmer. The combination of warm sunlight on her face and the salty tang of sea air filling her lungs was a soothing panacea. The cries of gulls, though raucous, were familiar and comforting, transporting her back to a happy weekend she had spent in Brighton with Aunt Vanessa not long after arriving in England, and to days sailing off the south coast with her grandfather.

With a guilty start she remembered that the last time she had seen her grandfather he had been about to move house and she had promised to visit him just as soon as she returned from Amsterdam. However it was in Amsterdam that she had met up with the Doctor again. She wondered now how her grandfather had taken her apparent disappearance - he was bound to be worried about her.

She pulled her head back in through the window, then blinked. Of course! The solution was so blindingly obvious she was a dolt for not having thought of it straight away. All she had to do was ask the Doctor to take her to visit her grandfather before before he had cause to wonder where she was. he had cause to wonder where she was.

Tegan had never been one to let the gra.s.s grow under her feet. She believed in striking while the iron was hot, acting on impulse. Of course, this att.i.tude had got her into trouble many times, but she knew she would never change.

She almost ran across the room and pulled open the door, only remembering at the last moment to go back and s.n.a.t.c.h up the key from the bed before yanking the door shut behind her. She marched down the corridor and rapped on the Doctor's door. There was no answer. She knocked again, put her ear to the door, and called out, 'Doctor? Doctor, are you in there?'

Still no reply. Was he sleeping or just ignoring her?

Frustrated, she pounded on the door with her fist and shouted, 'Doctor, will you please answer me? I need to talk to you!'

A door further down the corridor opened and Turlough popped his head out. 'What's the matter?'

'What does it look like? I want to talk to the Doctor, but he won't answer.'

Turlough wandered up and put his ear to the door.

'Perhaps he's not there.'

'Well, where is he then?'

He raised his hands as if to protect himself from her anger.

'I only said perhaps. I don't know any more than you do.'

'This is ridiculous,' she muttered, and marched down the corridor and through the half-open door into Turlough's room. Polite applause from the cricket match on the TV greeted her as she entered. The carpet bag that the Doctor had lent Turlough was open on the bed, though he had not yet removed any of its contents. Tegan s.n.a.t.c.hed up the phone on the bedside table and dialled the Doctor's room number. Receiving no reply, she banged down the phone, then immediately picked it up again and dialled '10'.

'Reception,' said a woman's voice.

'h.e.l.lo, this is Tegan Jovanka from room 404. I'm trying to get in touch with a friend of mine in room 418, but there's no reply.'

'Dr John Smith?' said the woman.

'Er... yes, that's right.'

'Just a moment please, Miss Jovanka.' There was a brief pause, then 'I'm sorry, Miss Jovanka, but Dr Smith left the hotel about ten minutes ago.'

'Left?' exclaimed Tegan, her previous suspicions reawakening. 'Did he say where he was going?'

'I'm afraid not, Miss Jovanka, but I believe he left you a note... Ah yes, here it is.'

'Could you read it please?'

'Certainly, Miss Jovanka.' There was the sound of rustling paper, then the woman said, 'Dear Tegan and Turlough, I've had to pop out for a while. Things to do. See you soon. The Doctor.'

'That's all?'

'Yes, Miss Jovanka.'

'Thank you,' said Tegan, tight-lipped, and put the phone down.

The Doctor sniffed the air like a bloodhound but could detect nothing unusual. He appeared nonchalant as he strolled along the promenade, hands in pockets, though in fact his mind was attuned to the slightest trace of the telepathic link he had briefly established earlier.

It was an alien mind he had made contact with, of that he was certain. But as to where it had come from, he had no idea. His gaze roamed along the rows of seafront shops and hotels and boarding-houses; he peered up into the diamond-blue sky and watched the gulls wheeling and screeching; he scanned the busy stretch of dun-coloured beach where people were sunbathing, playing football, flying kites, building sandcastles, paddling in the shallows or bobbing among the waves; he stared out to sea, which s.h.i.+fted and rippled and swelled constantly, as if myriad pulses were beating at random beneath its blue and gla.s.sy skin.

He ordered a '99' from an ice-cream van and asked the heavily sideburned proprietor whether he had seen anything unusual in the town recently.

'Only you, mate,' said the man with a grin.

'Me?' said the Doctor, taken aback. Then he smiled and touched the stick of celery attached to his lapel. 'Ah. Yes, I suppose my attire is a little anachronistic.'

The man chuckled as if the Doctor had made a joke and leaned forward, elbows resting on the counter of the van's serving hatch. 'You'll have heard about the palaver down by the harbour earlier.'

'Will I?'

'I thought everyone had.'

'I'm new to town,' said the Doctor, licking his ice-cream.

The man nodded wisely, then winked and glanced right and left as if about to impart confidential information that he didn't want overheard. 'Aye, well, they sealed the whole place off.'

'Who did?'

'The police.'

'Really? Any idea why?'

'They reckon there was a fis.h.i.+ng boat found this morning, just floating out at sea. Everyone on board dead. Murdered, they reckon.'

The Doctor stared at the man for a moment, then thrust the half-eaten '99' into his hand. 'Thank you, you've been most helpful,' he said as he spun away.

'Oi!'

The Doctor halted in mid-spin. 'Hmm?'

'Are you going to pay for this or what?'