Part 17 (2/2)

Malady handed it over. The Doctor pa.s.sed it from hand to hand, as if deciding whether to fire left* or right*handed.

Cosgrove had his rifle on his shoulder, and was carefully aiming it. They were sixty feet apart possibly less. His gun did have the range. It also had computer*a.s.sisted scopes, but Malady suspected Cosgrove wouldn't need them.

The rifle muzzle flashed, just as the Doctor fired the pistol.

Two seconds later, Cosgrove, the Doctor and Malady were all still alive, which surprised her.

The Doctor fired again. The first time, Malady had thought she'd imagined it, but she saw it again: a smear of a spark in the air between them and the helicopter.

Cosgrove fired, so did the Doctor. The third time, the third spark, and Malady realised what the Doctor was doing.

He was shooting Cosgrove's bullets out of the air.

Cosgrove hadn't worked it out. The helicopter was coming ever nearer he was shouting something to the pilot he thought there was something wrong with his gun.

An energy bolt sizzled between Malady and the Doctor, then on underneath the helicopter, before exploding into the half*collapsed office block opposite.

Malady turned to see the boy, only a few feet behind them, looking annoyed with himself for missing.

He aimed his gun again.

Malady did exactly what her training told her to she ran straight for him. The second energy bolt detonated where she had just been. She caught up with the boy as his face was just registering that she was heading his way.

She brought her forearm down to the child's wrist, deflecting his gun hand, brought her knee up between his legs, slammed his chin with the heel of her palm, then grabbed his wrist, planning to either get him to drop the gun or break his wrist. In the event, she did both.

He squealed. Malady recovered his gun, then gave him a swift chop to the back of the neck, and he fell face first into the floodwater.

She watched him struggle on to his hands and knees, spitting out dirty water, tears in his eyes, his hand hanging limply.

Chalk one up to the good guys.

She turned on her heel, raised the ray gun and fired at the helicopter. The energy bolt hit the tail fin, blowing a great chunk out of it. The helicopter pulled up and away, and she could hear Cosgrove turning the air blue as he ordered the pilot to get them back down there.

The Doctor was watching them go. Malady joined him.

'We need to get inside,' the Doctor told her, looking around for a building that didn't look like it was about to collapse. 'There,' he said finally.

Cosgrove was angry with the pilot for retreating, but now they were out of the area, he accepted it had been the right decision. The helicopter was labouring, the engine didn't sound healthy. Besides, he'd just had a call from the communications centre on the royal plane.

The helicopter pilot had wanted to get down to a.s.sess the damage, and had found a raised bit of wasteland where that was possible. With the engines powering down, it was possible to have a more meaningful conversation with the comms room.

Penny Lik had found something she thought Cosgrove might find useful. When she told him what it was, Cosgrove could only agree.

Jaxa found Roja propped against the wall of the office block, trying to stop himself crying.

'She hurt me. She stole my gun.'

'You let advanced technology fall into the hands of a primitive?'

'I didn't let let her. She hurt me.' her. She hurt me.'

For the first time in the two years she'd known him, Roja looked his age, and it struck Jaxa just how inhuman it was to expose a twelve*year*old child to danger.

Eighteenth*century ethics for you. Her employer prided himself on being ahead of his time, of being a man of the future. But his future was children down mines and up chimneys, it was only a third of women dying in childbirth, it was hunting animals to extinction to make billiard b.a.l.l.s and exotic rugs, only to discover that man himself was just a jumped*up monkey.

Sabbath's cabin boy was one of the lucky ones. Found in the street, he'd been given clothes and a bed, he'd been taught to read and write. When it had come to Sabbath's attention that he'd proved adept at that, he'd become a Boy First Cla.s.s, his training had become intense, if specialised mathematics, chronology, astrology*astronomy, high*energy physick.

Operational training with Jaxa was just part of his studies. This boy would be one of the Admirals of the Fleet, when he was a man. And when there was a Fleet.

'Stand up,' she ordered. He struggled to.

'There are locals after the Doctor and his companion,' Roja said. 'They have aircraft.'

'Then we will kill them.'

Baskerville smiled at Anji.

'Will you start, or should I?' he asked reasonably, using the cultured English accent, not the East European one he'd used when he didn't know she was listening in.

'You're not from the future?' He couldn't be, or the detector would be bleeping.

'No.'

'So where did you get your time machine?'

Baskerville shook his head. 'I have to keep some of my secrets. Now, my turn: How much do the CIA know?'

'Nothing.'

Baskerville looked her up and down, as if appreciating her for the first time. Anji kept her arms by her sides if he wanted a good look, he might as well have it.

'Nothing?' he asked.

'I'm not CIA.'

That clearly surprised him. 'You are are working for the EZSS, after all?' working for the EZSS, after all?'

'I'm not even sure what that is.'

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