Doctor Who_ Trading Futures Part 11

They slowed down, glided to the pavement, landed with quite a jolt.

Malady grabbed for her gun, but it wasn't there.

The Doctor handed it back to her. 'You'll need this,' he said, absent*mindedly examining the damage to the lining of his coat.

After a moment he looked up at her. 'Now, you've probably got a few questions, and I'd be happy to '

Malady knocked him unconscious with the b.u.t.t of her gun.

Baskerville was already leading Anji away.

'I had my suspicions about him, of course.'

'Of course you did.' She looked back over her shoulder at the jagged hole in the gla.s.s. Warm air was wafting in. She tried to control her breathing a bit, calm down before she had a heart attack. Somehow, although her body was in shock, she couldn't imagine that they'd killed the Doctor. They'd inconvenienced him, obviously, but she was wondering how he'd survived, not picturing him hitting the pavement.

Dee and Baskerville were leading her to the lift. The guy who'd thrown the Doctor out of the window was bringing up the rear, carrying a bulky carry case.

'You've drawn attention to yourself,' she warned Baskerville. The police will investigate the body.' She knew she looked worried, this way, they'd think she was worried about that, not the Doctor.

'And in a little under an hour and three quarters, the police will be caught in the tidal wave, and one more body won't make a difference.'

They were in the lift, now, heading upwards.

'You're going to get back in touch with the real EZ?'

He was staring at the roof of the lift, willing it to go faster. I'll worry about that when we're clear.'

'You don't have to,' she said flatly.

Baskerville looked at her.

'I'm sure the President would he happy to conduct unilateral negotiations.'

He and Dee glanced at each other. 'We need full access to the ULTRA computer,' Dee told her. 'It's unique. It is the only computer with the processing power we need.'

'America has powerful computers, Ms Gordon.'

'It has to be the ULTRA. And it's secure in an underground bunker below the headquarters of the European Secret Service in Brussels.'

'h.e.l.l, whose corporations do you think sold them the computer in the first place?' Anji said, almost swaggering as she said it. 'Do you think we did that without leaving a few back doors? We can get you the ULTRA. We're the richest nation on Earth, Baskerville, you can name your price and we'll match it.'

Baskerville rubbed his chin, lost in thought.

The lift doors slid smoothly open. They were on the roof. A small helicopter sat there, the East European guy in the pilot's seat, the case he'd been carrying stowed behind him. The rotors were already running.

Dee indicated the helicopter. 'We'll negotiate on the yacht.'

Penny Lik was dozing in the main stateroom of the royal airliner. This morning, on the way over to America, she'd been more self*conscious she told him it was hard to imagine the King and Queen had done what they were planning on doing in this very bed.

Cosgrove told her if she was having problems imagining it, he had covert surveillance videodiscs of them, and she'd laughed and relaxed, so he didn't tell her he wasn't joking. On the way back, she'd simply tried to make him forget about letting the young man escape, and for an hour or so, she'd succeeded. Now they were halfway to Athens, and Cosgrove had preparations to make, so he left Professor Lik to her rest.

They were alone on the plane, except for the three pilots, who were safely locked away in the c.o.c.kpit.

The hypersonic plane was a variation on the fastest commercial airliner, the Airbus IX. In actuality, there was very little difference between this royal transport and the one in regular service. There were a couple more first*cla.s.s cabins, the carpets were deeper, the dinner service was fine bone china, the European Airways planes didn't have Da Vinci sketches on the walls. But apart from a few well*furnished rooms, it was almost frugal. Professor Lik's reaction on looking around had been the same as everyone else's faint disappointment.

The President Minister's plane was quite another matter, but needs must.

He booted up his laptop, and checked the latest reports.

It was eleven o'clock in Athens. There was little doubt Baskerville's prophecies were coming to pa.s.s: Cosgrove had made a nice profit betting on the Europe*Brazil match, getting the score, those that scored and the time they scored exactly right simply by following Baskerville's prediction. The actress Bermuda Atkins had died too, suddenly, of some previously unsuspected virus. The Third Prophecy was the tidal wave in Athens entirely impossible, according to his scientific team. But it was going to happen, and Cosgrove was already utterly convinced that Baskerville had a time machine.

He contacted Station G in Athens, told them to evacuate, with the minimum fuss, and to get their helicopters into the air. There was a military airfield twenty miles inland from Athens that ought to be a safe base of operations. He found the intercom, and told the pilots to head there.

One of the reports waiting for him on the computer registered the CIA's confusion about why, when it looked for all the world as though the EZ and US were heading towards a shooting war, the royal jet had visited California for less than two hours. The lack of US data security (or their commitment to freedom of information), meant that the details of the flight were already on the datanet, fuelling a dozen conspiracy theories.

None of them mentioned the EZ government attempting to acquire a time machine. A quick search revealed that no one, from the seismology department at Berkeley to a single one of the net psychics, had predicted the tidal wave in Athens.

Baskerville still hadn't shown up anywhere in this ma.s.s of data. Cosgrove was worried that his own actions the exploding Manta, the public search for the case, the use of the royal jet might start to arouse suspicion. He had to a.s.sume the CIA were at least aware that something important was happening. And there was some third party some organisation that could get on board a military boat in the middle of the sea, and could operate on a world scale, one that had initiative. Both the man who'd stolen his case and blown up the Manta and the man who'd taken his photograph had English accents. Neither had military training. Both had run rings around him. This was worrying.

There was also his feeling that there was something more going on, something beyond the human.

Cosgrove sat back, resolved to take control of the situation.

The Doctor's eyes snapped open.

'A CIA safehouse,' he said.

Malady was standing beside a small video camera, adjusting some of the settings. This was a small room, windowless, like a police interview room.

He was handcuffed to the chair, his arms behind his back.

'What time is it?' the Doctor asked, slipping out of the handcuffs, dropping them in his pocket, then returning his hands behind his back.

'Does it matter?'

The Doctor laughed. 'I know it's before midday. But what time is it?'

'Do you really want me to say that it's me that asks the questions, because I will.'

'If you're going to ask me something, ask me why I'm so confident it's before midday. We're still in Athens, right? So it's before midday. So go on, ask me how I know.'

'We are still in Athens.' Malady turned her attention away from the camera and on to the Doctor.

'Tell me the time, and I'll tell you everything I know about Baskerville's time machine. Does that sound fair?'

'Whose what?'

'Have you been briefed on this mission at all?' the Doctor asked irritably.

'I know there's some hi*tech being offered to the Eurozone Government. I know that the EZ are in contact with someone making that offer, someone who appeared out of nowhere two months ago.'

'His name is Baskerville. What he's offering is a working time machine. I'll tell you all about him but only after you tell me the time.'

Malady watched him carefully. 'It's five to twelve,' she told him suspiciously.

'We're below ground.' It wasn't a question. 'How far below ground?'

'Doctor, you were going to tell me about Baskerville.'

'Is this floor watertight? Are we in a bunker, or just an ordinary building?'

'Doctor '

'There's no time to warn anyone,' the Doctor blurted. 'But we can save ourselves.'

'What's going on?'

He broke into a grin. 'I'm glad you asked. At midday, Athens is going to be hit by a tidal wave. There's going to be ma.s.sive loss of life. Now, you don't know that, but the leaders of the Eurozone do. Baskerville told them. He's from the future, he's read about the tidal wave in his history hooks, and he's proved he's from the future by making a series of predictions, all of which have come true.'

'Baskerville's from the future?'

'Malady, that really wasn't the bit I wanted you to concentrate on. For the moment, can we stick to the tidal wave? We've got what, four minutes? to get out of Athens, or at the very least find somewhere waterproof. Does this safehouse have a safe?'

'Not one that's big enough for two people.'

'One person? You can get in, I'll make my own way to safety.'

Malady laughed out loud. 'G.o.d, you're good. I almost fell for it. Can you imagine what would happen when they found me? If If they found me? "Hey Malady, who locked you in the safe?", "Oh, I locked myself in the d.a.m.n safe, because my prisoner said I'd drown if I didn't".' they found me? "Hey Malady, who locked you in the safe?", "Oh, I locked myself in the d.a.m.n safe, because my prisoner said I'd drown if I didn't".'

'Did you feel that?'

'Oh come on, Doctor, what next? "There's someone behind you"? OK, I'll bite: what was I supposed to feel, Doctor?'

'An earthquake, I think. Some distance away, but quite concentrated and powerful. Enough to set off a tidal wave.'

The Doctor stood up, handed her the handcuffs and pulled her out of the room. 'It really is time to get going.'

Fitz woke up, which came as something of a relief.

He hadn't moved the two men in the trenchcoats were still there, so was the big circus tent. He could hear the crowds. He was dimly aware that the old bloke who'd kicked his head in and his good*looking ladyfriend were only a few yards behind him. But they hadn't caught up with him in the time he'd been unconscious. However long that had been.

He felt like he'd just eaten a six*course meal.

His vision was blurred, but as if to compensate the smells were overpowering. Gra.s.s, the canvas of the tent, the burgers and chestnuts from the food stalls. Fitz wasn't a scientist, but he imagined the blurred vision was something to do with the good kicking he'd been given. He should have been worried it was permanent, but that lobe of his brain must have been whacked, too.

The two blokes were quite ordinary looking. Average height and build. They looked boring, more than anything else. There were two of them, of course, but even so, Fitz felt that he'd have a reasonable chance to get past them.

'Doctor...' one of them said.

They thought he was the Doctor. Fitz had forgotten that bit. What would the Doctor do in these circ.u.mstances?

'Oh yes, I am the Doctor,' Fitz a.s.sured them, worried he sounded a bit too camp.

'You will give us the secrets of time travel.'

'You know I can't do that,' Fitz said, looking back over his shoulder. The old bloke was right behind him, why hadn't he caught up?

And why did it feel like there were lead weights in his shoes and coat pockets?

The gravity was higher than it was on Earth.

So there was a rather obvious conclusion to be drawn.

'This is an illusion,' Fitz told the trenchcoats. 'A simulation of Earth, not the real thing.'

'Yes, Doctor. Onihr science is capable of such magnificent feats.' The man held up the little box he'd had before.

'But not of sorting out the gravity problem.'

The two men looked at each other.

'If you can't manage simple artificial gravity,' said Fitz airily, 'then you're hardly ready for me to hand you a time machine, are you?'

'You will build us a time machine. You will teach us its secrets.'

'We have fragments of the knowledge,' the other added. 'Our race has spent millennia acquiring them.'

'You find them lying around?' Fitz snorted.

'Precisely. On every planet, there are pieces of the puzzle.'

'Echoes in the rituals or artwork.'

'Artefacts. Components. Relics.'

'The Onihr race collects these, but however brilliant our scientists, we can not fit these pieces together.'

'We want that knowledge. We shall be the masters of time.'

Fitz shook his head. 'I'm not going to stop you trying,' he said doubting it was what the Doctor would say in the circ.u.mstances. 'But I'm not going to help you. So, just take me home.'