Part 2 (2/2)

'I a.s.sume that's a rhetorical question, sir,' said Hutchinson.

In the corner of the room, Timothy was biting his bottom lip, trying desperately not to cry.

'Tell him,' urged Anand, his friend. 'He could stop them. He would.' Anand's father ruled a small independent state in India. He and Timothy were best friends, probably because the rest of the House seemed to hate them equally. 'Yes,' Tim whispered. 'That's the most terrible thing. He would.'

'It seems very odd,' Smith concluded. 'When I was away, in Aberdeen, we used to get a couple of planks, knock a ball about.'

'Perhaps we could try that,' piped up Captain Merryweather. 'It might catch on, sir, and they'd all start using planks at Lords.' Hutchinson glanced at him warningly.

His sarcasm had been a bit too obvious. But Smith was grinning that insane grin again.

'Yes... Well, I'll put the team up on the notice-board. We'll start with eleven and work up. Many hands spoil the broth, or not, as my father used to say. Or perhaps he said the opposite. Goodbye.' And he left, tossing the ball thoughtfully.

'Quiet!' Hutchinson called as soon as the door had closed. The laughter that man always left in his wake - what sort of example was that? 'We were in the process of beating Dean, if I recall.'

Timothy stood up, his eyes dark with pain, and stiffly walked back to the radiator.

'It will go the worse for you,' he whispered as he leant against it once more.

'What, bug?'

'I said,' Tim said, in a louder voice, 'it will go the worse for you.'

Hutchinson exchanged bemused glances with his fellow captains. The tone of Timothy's voice was resigned rather than scared. 'Dare say it will,' Timbo!' He laughed.' you're the one it's going badly for at the moment. Now where were we?'

In the forest on the hills above the town, a red squirrel looked up, started, and ran.

In mid-air, a shape was forming, a flowing fractal vortex that grew out of thin air, swirling out from a point to become a spinning upright disc, the size of a barn door.

There were five figures in the vortex, in the distance, rus.h.i.+ng towards the disc.

They were frozen like statues in leaping postures. They became larger, larger still, and then the first of them fell straight out into the wood.

August got to his feet instantly, letting go of his nose, and caught Aphasia as she fell from the vortex gate. He left her to recover, and slapped the shoulders of Greeneye and Hoff as they stumbled out, carrying their large packs. 'Quickly, a.s.semble the frame.'

The two of them started, with smooth, practised speed, to pull a metal structure from the backpacks. By the time Serif jumped from the vortex, hissing, they'd completed the job. They slammed the final connections together, and a thin metal ring encompa.s.sed the fluttering lightshow. Hoff's stubby fingers punched a series of b.u.t.tons on the base of the ring. The vortex disc flexed, and a single clear note rang out across the woodland. The travellers held their breath. Then the disc stabilized, and a series rea.s.suring lights illuminated on the control deck.

'Vortex tunnel stable,' Hoff declared.

'Thank my ancestors,' August breathed. 'Now the are Greeneye - '

'I'm just doing it, Father.' Greeneye turned a slow circle, sweeping a handheld device across the ground. H' circle complete, he flicked a control.

[image]

A s.h.i.+mmering curtain of light rose from the circle around the group, arched itself into a dome above them, and, as soon as it had become complete, s.h.i.+mmered and blurred into an exact recreation of the woodlands around . Birds flew across the holographic dome, and the branches portrayed on its surface bent and rustled in he wind.

From the inside, the dome was transparent. August and the others sat down in a circle, paused, and then let out a deep sigh.

'This place smells,' Aphasia declared.

'Indeed!' Greeneye laughed. 'Most places do. But I, for one, am just grateful to be on solid ground, and move my limbs again. We might not have been aware of the pa.s.sage of time in the vortex, but my bones ache with it. Where are we, anyhow?'

'Planet called Sol 3, in the Stellarian Galaxy.' Hoff was checking the readings on his wrist scanner. 'Many, many library entries for it.'

'Near Gallifrey, then,' breathed Greeneye.

'It is not ”near Gallifrey”!' August laughed. 'We're in an arm of Mutter's Spiral, Gallifrey's right at the core. If being in the same galaxy is near near, then the Sontarans are near the Rutans, for goodness' sake!'

'No harm in being wary,' Greeneye replied, a dangerous glint in his eye. 'You know that those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds specialize in the stab in the back.'

'You're right, son, you're right. We ought to change anyway. Hoff, activate that media scanner you got on Tauntala, give us a feel for the local culture.'

Hoff fished a screen from the pack and handed out headsets, each of the group programming theirs for their particular interests. Then they set to the business of examining the data that the media scanner was picking up. For some hours, the only sounds that could be heard in the forest were the usual movements of small animals and birds.

Through the bushes crept a great hunter.

He was a tabby tom-cat, and his name was Wolsey. He was far from his own territory, and thus constantly on the lookout for rivals and new things to explore.

The dome was something very new indeed. It was twilight, and he had been about to turn and head home for some food, but the new thing caught his attention.

He approached it cautiously, skirting right round before venturing towards it.

Visually, it was hard to see that there was anything strange there, but Wolsey didn't rely on sight as much as a human would, and he perceived the strange construction as a bundle of strange sounds and absolutely new smells. He stalked right up to the edge of it, and leaned his nose forward until his whiskers were nearly touching the mysterious surface. In a moment, the great hunter would mark the thing with scent from the side of his head, and then it would be his.

A sudden sound. Wolsey looked up. And jumped. Aphasia landed right where he'd been, her hands s.n.a.t.c.hing at the air as the cat bounded off into the undergrowth.

The little girl bared her teeth and stood up, brus.h.i.+ng the dirt from her dress. 'A cat!'

she called to the others. 'It was one of those cat things!'

'A cat?' Greeneye leapt out of the dome, his hand reflexively grasping for the top of his sword. 'A Gallifreyan creature!' He was dressed in relaxed summer whites and blazer, a pristine boater perched atop his newly cropped hair. The only strange things about him now were the two swords still harnessed to his back.

'Would you please relax?' August emerged from the dome behind him, in a dapper business suit. 'You're making me nervous.' He slapped a control on Greeneye's harness and the swords vanished. 'We could only find test transmissions in the radio spectrum, remember? The media scanner had to concentrate on how the locals perceive their print culture. Unless they want to use it as an observatory, I can't see what the Time Lords would want with somewhere as primitive as this.'

'But the cat - '

'There are lots of worlds with cats,' Hoff muttered. He was wearing the medals and uniform of a Boer War veteran. 'Don't let it bother you.'

Serif was still in his long black cape and wide-brimmed hat. He turned his head silently, examining the foliage. 'I will explore with stealth,' he told the others, 'by night.' And he was gone into the forest.

'Serif - ' August called after him, but he was gone. 'Oh well, I'm sure he knows best. Hoff - '

Hoff was about to flick a wrist control, but Aphasia jumped up, shouting, 'Wait!

Wait! Balloon!'

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