Part 18 (1/2)

Chapter Eight.

Cat Among the Pigeons

I.

'No,' whispered Polly hoa.r.s.ely. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She'd known it even without taking in all the detail; a sense that the place was not as they'd left it.

It was the one at the end, this time, on the left-hand side.

The one so soaked in gore it might've drowned in its own blood.

There was a sickly, decaying smell in the room. The corpse in the chair, Polly realised. The air must be getting to it now.

But what was getting to the bodies behind the barrier?

Frog swore, dropped the medicine tin and drew her gun.

She looked around, uncertain where she should be pointing it.

'No vibration could have caused this.' The Doctor announced, nodding to himself as if he had expected this latest development all along. 'It's interesting, very interesting.

Two of them for two of you.'

'Well, if the droids had anything to do with this, then we're OK,' Frog said. 'They're screwed. They can't do nothing else now.'

'Tell me.' The Doctor turned to Shel. 'These killing machines of yours you brought here to fight. How were they transported?'

'In the hold,' Shel answered softly. He staggered over towards the remaining bodies, transfixed. 'The droids were a new design, crated up so we wouldn't see. When Haunt gave the signal, they released themselves into the drop zone to take up pre-programmed positions.'

'So.' The Doctor paused impressively. 'You have no way of knowing if something else something else came aboard your s.h.i.+p with them.' came aboard your s.h.i.+p with them.'

'And left when they did,' Polly murmured, 'when no one was allowed to see...'

No one said anything for a while as the implications sank in.

'Even say that's true,' Frog said suddenly. 'Sure, they might wanna kill us. But the Schirr are dead already. Why take them?'

Polly shuddered. 'They must must be dead, mustn't they? Shel, you be dead, mustn't they? Shel, you said said they were,' she added petulantly. they were,' she added petulantly.

Shel nodded. 'My instruments informed me that was the case.' He reached for a gadget in his belt with his good hand and waved it in front of the Schirr bodies. Polly was afraid to watch too closely in case they suddenly pounced on him.

He handed the device to the Doctor. 'See for yourself.'

The Doctor took the gadget gingerly, and took a few seconds to familiarise himself with its functions. 'You put a good deal of trust in machines,' he observed, before handing it back with a smile. 'But I prefer to draw my own conclusions.' With that he started to peer at each Schirr in turn, muttering under his breath and occasionally holding a crooked thumb up at arm's length, like an artist gauging a measurement.

Frog looked glum. She scratched the patches of stubble that were all that remained of her hair and stared about, her boggle-eyes wider than ever. 'Who wants to tell Haunt about all this?' she warbled.

'First,' the Doctor suggested without looking up, 'let us be sure of what we are telling her.'

'I should do it,' announced Shel distantly. But he didn't, he just stood there, staring at the bodies, swaying. He tottered forwards and leaned heavily on the nearest control panel, not far from the corpse in the chair, as if about to have a conversation with it.

'Uh-oh,' said Frog. 'I told you, Shel honey, you need a medic.' She pulled something from her pocket, the size and shape of a boiled sweet, and then threw it down on the ground behind Shel. There was a crack like a starter's pistol, and Frog leapt back. A translucent rectangular bubble the size of a couch had appeared out of nowhere.

'Force mattress,' Frog explained with a wink at the Doctor.

'We all carry them, honey. Never know where you might need to bed down for the night.'

Polly watched in fascination as Frog helped Shel, unprotesting, to lie back on the bubble. The force mattress moulded itself to his body like it was made from putty. Her patient in place, Frog retrieved the first aid tin and pulled out what looked like an aerosol. Shel plucked it from her hand and applied the spray to his wound himself.

Frog shrugged and left him to it. She raised her gun again and started swinging it about, pointing it at shadows, making Polly decidedly nervous.

'Come, come,' chided the Doctor, looking up from his studies. 'You're surely not expecting to find our missing friend hiding under the table, hmm?'

'Body's got to be somewhere, don't it?' Frog retorted, still hunting about. 'We saw it here last.'

The Doctor gripped his lapels and nodded. 'And I feel quite certain we shan't see it here again just yet.'

'You think the Schirr disintegrated like the other one?' Polly asked hopefully.

Before the Doctor could respond, Shel groaned loudly. A pale yellow foam now coated his bloodied arm, some sort of s.p.a.ce-age bandage Polly supposed. He was pointing with his good arm at something under the control panel beside the dead Schirr in the chair, something only he could see at that angle.

Frog gave an excited squawk as she peered under the control panel herself. 'He's right, look at this! Come and see!'

'What?' Polly asked nervously. Something in the woman's voice put Polly in mind of the horrible boys back at school when she was little, who always tricked her into looking at the dead spiders or slugs they were holding, just to hear her scream. But in the end she relented. The sickly stench from the corpse got stronger as she approached, all Parma violets and rotting peaches.

Polly was relieved to find that the fuss was over little more than a box; a small, bronze casket had been fastened to the underside of the console. A couple of wires ran out of it, lending it the appearance of an ornate junction box. An angular symbol had been etched into one side.

The Doctor came to join her and stooped to see.

'Fascinating,' he said appreciatively. 'It is similar to the symbol burnt into Pallemar here.' His expression hardened.

'Isn't branding a prisoner somewhat barbaric for humans so evidently advanced, hmm?'

It's done when a prisoner is chipped. Pentagon Central's file on the subject is encoded at the same time into the flesh.'

'And this chipping, as you call it, is not punishment enough?'

'DeCaster and his disciples revived an ancient Schirr religion,' Shel explained. 'They celebrate the physical form as part of their magic, a kind of cult of the body. They've made themselves physically perfect in their own eyes.'

Frog giggled. 'So when we got them, we hit them where it hurt.' She made a hissing, sizzling sound. With the underlying grate of her voice simulator Polly found the noise truly disgusting.