Doctor Who: Drift (6 page)

„Medicine is your field, hmm?‟

„Sure,‟ she answered automatically, „but I fill a forensics role as well. Pydych is our engineer and-‟ The Doctor shushed her with a mime, then went on as if she hadn‟t spoken.

„Do you know what interests me most, Lieutenant Hmieleski?‟ The way his voice made such a rich sound of her name was oddly flattering. „We have no patients. Not even a candidate for a post mortem. These cultists were firing an awful lot of ammunition at somebody or something. But your Captain assures me not a single shot was aimed at him or his soldiers.‟

„Not intentionally, no. It never got to that. Kristal is convinced she was hit by accident. One desperate guy blowing an emergency exit through a back window. She saw him run off into the snows, like a wild thing, she said. That was when the rest of the shooting started inside the house and that‟s when we made our move. And
that
is pretty much all she wrote.‟

„Yes, well,
she
could have been a little more prolific, for all our sakes.‟

Hmieleski followed the Doctor‟s gaze down to the cartridge in her palm. „This little fella‟s a 7.62 Long, definitely not one of ours. The only shots our people fired were the covering volleys from our two snipers but - for obvious reasons - we can‟t confirm whether they hit anyone.‟ She shook her head as she scanned over the wall. „By the time any of our people got inside the house, the shooting was all done. I don‟t get it.

It‟s as if the walls might have been closing in on them and they were shooting back.‟

„Well, if I were a guessing man,‟ argued the Doctor, „I‟d say it was more like they were shooting at ghosts, then became ghosts themselves - wouldn‟t you?‟

Joanna suppressed a sudden shiver. There was no heat in here.

„Which only goes to prove the futility of guesswork,‟

concluded the Doctor, stepping past her into the middle of the room, where he could conduct a grand sweep of the scene from under that ridiculous hat.

„Of course,‟ he added casually, „from a more rational point of view, we could be looking at disintegration weaponry, transmat technology; that sort of thing. Residual energy traces shouldn‟t be too difficult to detect - as long as they‟re tested for fairly soon.‟

His impossibly wide gaze was meant as a prompt, Joanna could tell. „I‟ll get Pydych on it. The detection gear will be back with the vehicles, but I‟m sure Irving won‟t mind the-‟

All set to fetch the engineer, she was suddenly arrested by a very paternal hand in the crook of her arm. She spun -

straight into those eyes.

„Lieutenant Hmieleski, if we really are going to be working together, I think we‟re going to have to pool our knowledge, don‟t you? I mean, we might eventually persuade this house to part with its story, but some of us still wouldn‟t have the full picture, would we? For instance, the part about what Captain Shaw is doing here with his delightful team of soldiers? He didn‟t come all this way to arrest a few misguided cultists, now did he?‟

For a moment, Joanna felt obliged to give him a précis of their mission. Then her training kicked in. „I‟m sorry, Doctor, but you‟re going to have to talk to Captain Shaw about that.‟

A crumpled paper bag appeared in the guy‟s hand, right under her nose, like a magic trick. „Care for a jelly baby?‟

In spite of her years of adulthood and training, Joanna found herself peering inside. „As bribes go, this is not very impressive.‟

The Doctor shrugged. „Well no,‟ he owned at length, moderately abashed. But the grin returned a second later.

„But you have to admit it‟s effective, hmm?‟

Joanna inhaled and couldn‟t believe the turn her thoughts had taken. She dipped a hand into the bag. „You do realise, you breathe a word of this to Captain Shaw, he‟ll eat us both alive.‟

The Doctor plucked a juicy-looking sweet from the bag for himself. „I can‟t speak for him, but I generally prefer to bite the heads off first.‟

Irrepressible. Just like her lather.

Martha swore and chucked the papers from her lap onto the coffee table. She dragged her fingers back through her hair, the pen still in one hand.

It was useless: how was she expected to concentrate?

School was out, but there were still test papers to mark, lesson plans to prepare. At this rate, she‟d have to pray the snows would keep the school out long after the holidays.

She tossed the pen onto the papers as she stood. Mak‟s sofa was too damn comfortable for this kind of work anyhow.

Arching her back deep, she took a lethargic walk over to the window. Well, the snow looked set to stick around forever, so that was okay.

But it sure looked harsh out there. Harsh as hell.

Maybe she could have been more helpful this morning. But no, she knew well enough, you step into the middle of a fight, everyone thinks you‟re on the other side. It was impossible to gauge the centre line. Anyway she‟d have to stick up for Amber. The kid was ten hard years old. Mak had to tread slow and careful, something you‟d think he was born to -

when it came to anything but Amber. His main failing, he just didn‟t have the know-how to understand Amber and make her feel understood. But if it was his failing, then it was Martha‟s too.

School was out, so family needn‟t wait. Martha figured she should try. If Mak wasn‟t driving off packs of hungry coy-dogs, as he called them, he was probably mulling over a second cup of coffee with Laurie Aldrich. She could take a drive down and meet him for lunch, take the time to talk him through Amber properly.

Truth was, she was no expert either, and Martha had to shut down on a few tears then, the thought of those days she couldn‟t handle her own kid. Along with all the days she could never make up to her.

So harsh out there. Martha sent out a silent prayer for Amber, out in the midst of it. And she threw in another for Mak for good measure.

The phone rang.

Martha wiped away the mood like she‟d been asleep, then dragged herself to the hall. One hand went back through her hair again as she picked up the phone.

„Yeah?‟

Martha actually flinched. All the harshness of winter had crept inside her gut.

It was Curt.

„Listen, shut the hell up for a second and listen, will you?‟

„Whatever it is you got to say, I‟m not interested. Do you hear me? You‟re done calling the shots and you‟re done telling me anything. For someone who loves the sound of his own voice, have you ever stopped to listen to yourself? Not once! So why in hell I ever expected you to listen to me - or your own daughter, for Christ‟s sake-‟

Curt Redeker was ready to beat the crap out of the phone with the receiver, just to shut her up. But he sensed the clerk watching from the counter. Why‟d he even call her? Why‟d he go to so much trouble to find a phone? What in hell for? Well, he knew the answer to that, and so did Martha. Amber.

„I‟m not taking this from you, bitch. I‟ve just walked a goddamn marathon through the snow to find a phone, let you know I got here.‟ Christ, he‟d even stopped to wash his face in the snow, clean off the blood and kill the pain with the cold. „I found a call box, it was dead, so I ask the guy at the store if I can use the phone. He looks at me like I‟m-‟

„Let me know you got here? You were supposed to be here Saturday morning. I told you, two days, the weekend before the holidays - and that was for her,
not you.
She‟s been wondering where you‟ve been the whole weekend and guess what - I didn‟t have anything to tell her. Same old story and we‟ve all heard it enough, so I tell you what, you can come see her this afternoon, drop off whatever presents you‟re trying to impress her with this time and then you‟re gone.

Back to whatever hole you‟re living in, out of our lives, you got that, you bastard? Are you hearing me,
Curt?
Am I getting through to you this time?‟

Loud and clear. She couldn‟t do this, no way. She couldn‟t keep him from seeing his little girl - and for as long as he damn well pleased. What was she going to do, snatch her own daughter away, tell her Daddy‟s going now? She would.

He was seeing the world through a haze, much worse than the storm he‟d just fought through. For a while back there, following the lake shore, stumbling blind, he‟d really wondered if he was going to fall and never get up. And now this bitch was making his head spin.

He shot a look over towards the counter. The clerk was making like he was busy, like his counter needed cleaning when he probably hadn‟t had a customer all day. Jerk.

Damn! The bitch had said something about presents. He could see them now, back in the car, probably buried under half a ton of snow. Damn it to hell! And he could still hear her voice ranting and moaning from the receiver.

„What? What‟d you say?‟

„I said be at the house at four, not before, not after.

Makenzie won‟t want you hanging around, and neither do I.

You‟re here for Amber and that‟s it. And if I smell a drop of bourbon I swear I‟ll cut your visit real short. Be here for four.‟

She hung up. Stole the last word, just like always.

Let her have it. He was going to see his little girl. But hell, he‟d have to get himself cleaned up, and maybe pick up something for her in the store here.

Curt dropped the receiver back in place and patted down his suit. Somehow he felt more uncomfortable than ever in this thing. Maybe that was why he felt the clerk‟s suspicious eyes on him all the time. Screw him, who the hell was he?

Some hick storekeeper. The worst part was, the suit was empty of cash.

All he could feel was the bulge of the gun, stuffed into his belt and digging into his waist. The clerk might have been looking at him like he was some kind of scumbag, but Curt Redeker had never held up a store in his life. And he wasn‟t about to start now.

All the same, he had to get something for his little girl. No way was he showing up empty-handed. Itching inside his suit, he browsed the shelves furthest from the counter.

„Keep it loose and layered.‟

Leela resigned herself to the shorter woman‟s attentions as she helped her on with the coat - a parka, Kristal had said.

Packed off into the care of this stranger, she was feeling more lost than she had done out on the slopes. Her instincts, however, told her to trust this woman and if she could not trust them then she was worse than lost, she decided.

Kristal stepped back and Leela waited slightly anxiously on her pronouncement. She found herself wanting this woman‟s approval.

She had yet to make up her own mind about her new outfit, briskly assembled from the supplies stowed in various cupboards in this one upstairs room. The clothing had looked bulky, although less so than her furs, but not substantial enough to ward off the cold.

Now, Leela was beginning to appreciate the value of the materials. Her hands slid over the outer garments, testing every pocket and fastener. These were more than just cover-ings. At least she found she could move her arms fairly freely and the weight felt good on her limbs, nothing that would slow her down.

„These cultists were survivalists,‟ Kristal told her, so their gear is pretty much Army issue.‟

„Why am I not white, like you?‟

Kristal laughed - softly. „I take it you mean your outfit. I‟ll have somebody bring up some overwhites from the trucks when they rotate the teams. If it means that much to you.‟

„I do not wish to stand out like a sore thumb,‟ Leela declared, proud to have remembered one of the Doctor‟s phrases. She wondered then whether she had got it right, when she saw Kristal shake her head, a curious gleam in her eye.

„Welcome to White Shadow. Leela.‟

„Thank you.‟ Leela didn‟t know what else to say. She recognised a sense of ceremony in Kristal‟s attendance and the sense made her hesitant in case she broke any tribal laws.

„What is White Shadow? Is that what you call this land?‟

The smile of an elder stole across Kristal‟s face. „No, Leela.

White Shadow is us. It‟s the name of our group of soldiers.

Our warrior tribe.‟

„It is a good name. I am Leela of the tribe of Sevateem.‟

Leela detected a stir of emotion in Kristal and believed she must have said the right thing. The small woman spoke back to her with a measured respect, as one warrior to another:

„And I am Kristal Owl Eye Wildcat of the Pasamaquoddy of the Abnaki.‟

Excitedly, Leela pounced on a fragment the Doctor had thrown her earlier. „Are these your lands? The Doctor said a noble people lived here.‟

„He was probably talking about the Penacooks,‟ Kristal explained quietly. „They were of the same nation, the Algonquin. These lands belong to a larger nation now, Leela.

Not necessarily a greater one, whatever my captain tells you.‟

The woman‟s gaze roamed far and wide as she stood perfectly still. Leela recalled the way Neeva had succumbed to his visions and thought of how the Doctor always dismissed such hocus pocus. There were always scientific reasons, he said.

Kristal convulsed suddenly, beginning a slow fall to her Leela started forward to brace her and came face to face with Kristal‟s trance. Whatever magic or science was in this woman, it had poisoned her eyes.