Part 14 (1/2)

Swimming with the Sharks arah gazed in shock and revulsion at the remains of the the whatever whatever on the table. 'I know some kids are ugly,' she Ssaid weakly, 'but that's a bit extreme, don't you think?' on the table. 'I know some kids are ugly,' she Ssaid weakly, 'but that's a bit extreme, don't you think?'

'Extreme and extremely immoral,' agreed the Doctor. 'It's perversion of the natural order on a scale I've seen only once before.'

'But . . . there's no way that thing could be a ten-year-old child,' objected Sarah.

'It isn't. At least, it isn't any more.' The Doctor was very grim and she could detect the undercurrent of moral outrage below his surface. 'But that's how the poor creature began.'

Doyle, wiping his hands after having washed them thoroughly, walked over to join them. 'Even I don't understand how it has been accomplished,' he admitted. 'But there's no doubting the Doctor's core theory. That is not some animal.'

Sarah shook her head. 'Look, I know I'm not really up on the science stuff, but I'm no dummy either. It's impossible to create hybrids of humans and animals, isn't it?'

'Generally speaking, yes,' agreed the Doctor. 'But this isn't general. It's very specific. Without access to much more sophisticated a.n.a.lysis techniques, I can't be too sure what's happened, but the basics are fairly clear. The body structure of that creature is that of a normal human child. Somehow, though, his genetic material has been melded with that of a canine possibly a wolf, most likely a dog of some kind.'

Sarah frowned. 'Come off it,' she said. 'Are you telling me that thing's an honest-to-G.o.d werewolf?'

'It's not honest to anything, Sarah Jane,' the Doctor said hollowly. 'Its as dishonest as they come. And it's not a werewolf in the sense you imagine. This is a deliberately engineered monstrosity.'

'Somebody made a kid into that?' Sarah was appalled beyond any words.

'Yes.' The Doctor spoke quietly but firmly. 'The genetic match isn't too good, and the poor creature must have been in pain constantly, and probably more than half insane.'

'But that's not possible in this time period, is it, Doctor?' she insisted.

'Time period?' Doyle's eyes went wide. 'What the deuce are you talking about?'

'Later!' the Doctor snapped at him. To Sarah, he said, 'No, it isn't. Which means that we're dealing with something intrusive. That kind of genetic manipulation won't be possible on this planet for at least two hundred years.'

'Then what is happening here?' demanded Sarah.

'One possibility is that we have an intruder from the future.'

That sparked something in Sarah's mind. 'Wait a minute I just met someone who seems to be a bit too aware of what the future might bring.' She told the Doctor and Doyle about her visit to the factory. 'Is it possible that Breckinridge is from the future, and that he's come back to this time to alter the course of history? That he aims to get rich when the communications boom comes in a couple of years?'

'It's possible,' agreed the Doctor. 'I don't know how likely it is, though. Aside from his ideas which a shrewd businessman of this time could still come up with and this pitiful beast, there's nothing to suggest time travel.'

'That's it,' said Doyle firmly. 'I refuse to be shut out of this conversation any longer. Will you two please tell me what you are discussing here? Time travel?'

That had sunk it. Sarah sighed. 'Look,' she said. 'It's very complicated, and I know you won't believe it, so let it drop, okay?'

But Doyle was having none of that. 'Wait a moment,' he insisted. 'The only way that what you have both been saying makes any sense is if you claim to be from a different time period to this. The future, I a.s.sume, and you have somehow transferred back in time. Is that what you are claiming?'

'We're claiming nothing,' Sarah replied. 'Let it drop, please.'

'Oh, no,' Doyle said firmly. 'You can't just raise the idea and then walk away from it. The very concept is preposterous.'

'It is, is it?' asked the Doctor.

'Yes, of course it is.' Doyle waved his hands about his head. 'One cannot simply move freely back and forth between the ages. I'm a rational man, and I accept only those matters that science can demonstrate to a rational man.'

'Then heaven defend us from rational men!' the Doctor yelled. 'A pox on rationality! Has it never occurred to you that the human understanding of science is a small and pitiful thing? That there might exist vast areas outside of human knowledge that can still be explained scientifically, but not in terms of the puny knowledge that the human race possesses at this time? That there just might be realities undescribed by and unknown to your limited grasp of science? A rational man!

Hah!'

'Well,' said Doyle, somewhat taken aback by this verbal a.s.sault, 'if you choose to put it like that '

'I do so choose!' the Doctor replied.

'Then I have to say that you are correct, Doctor.' Doyle shook his head slowly. 'It is arrogant to a.s.sume that everything we know is everything there is to know.'

'Congratulations,' Sarah informed him. 'You've just made a huge step forward. Ignorance isn't so bad, but refusing to see ignorance is.'

'But I still find it hard to accept the notion of transference in time,' Doyle added honestly.

The Doctor gestured at the carca.s.s on the table. 'Then merely accept it. You've seen it, you've touched it and you helped me to dissect it. Explain that that in terms of nineteenth-century knowledge.' in terms of nineteenth-century knowledge.'

'I cannot.'

'Good. I'd have called you a d.a.m.ned fool and a liar if you tried.' The Doctor patted him encouragingly on the back.

'Well, let's get a pot of tea and some scones, shall we? I do hope they have clotted cream and strawberry jam.'

'You're just leaving that where it is?' asked Sarah, jerking her thumb at the corpse.

'You're welcome to bury it if you wish,' the Doctor told her. 'But I thought we'd do better leaving that to the local vicar.' He set off back towards the Hall briskly.

Falling in beside him, Sarah asked, 'What's next on the agenda? After afternoon tea?'

'I wonder if we can hire a boat.'

'A boat?' asked Doyle, struggling to keep up. 'Whatever for?'

'I feel like a spot of fis.h.i.+ng,' the Doctor replied.

Sarah grinned. 'Let me guess: you want to see what's out at sea.'

'You know me so well, Sarah Jane.'

'Here, I say,' objected Doyle. 'Isn't that likely to be a trifle dangerous, given what happened to old Tolliver?'

'No,' the Doctor replied. 'It's likely to be very dangerous. You needn't accompany me.'

'You'll need my help,' Doyle insisted. 'I'm a decent hand with a harpoon, you know, and a fair shot.'

'And you'd better not even dream about leaving me behind,' added Sarah.