Part 15 (1/2)

Standing on the headland close to Breckinridge's factory, Ross surveyed the bay through his collapsible binoculars. 'It's hard to see clearly in this light,' he commented, 'but that small fis.h.i.+ng smack down there has three people aboard. One of them is definitely this Doctor, and the other two are probably Miss Smith and that Doctor Doyle from the whaler.'

'So what?' asked Abercrombie, munching on a cheese and chutney sandwich he'd liberated on the way there.

'I wonder how much they know about our business, that's what.'

Abercrombie shrugged. 'What's the difference?' he asked. 'If they're out there in the bleeding bay, they don't know much. And they won't be alive long enough to learn more, will they?'

Ross sighed. 'It's a pity, Abercrombie,' he said, 'but I fear you are quite correct. Sadly, the Doctor and his friends are likely to have a very lethal boating accident this evening.'

Once the Doctor decided that they were far enough out in the bay, he and Doyle dropped the sail and let out the water anchor. 'Now we just wait,' he said.

'So who brought the cards?' asked Sarah.

Doyle couldn't resist a smile at her easy manner. 'Do you two do this kind of thing often?' he enquired.

'Too blooming often,' Sarah answered.

'We do have a knack of walking into trouble,' the Doctor admitted.

'Walking?' Sarah laughed. 'Running headlong, more like.' She grinned at the medical man. 'You really wouldn't believe some of the adventures we've had.'

'Try me,' suggested Doyle.

Sarah shook her head. 'No, I mean it: you really wouldn't believe them. If you think the idea that we might be from another time is hard to accept, you should try taking the Doctor's pulse sometime.'

'I should?'

'No, you shouldn't,' the Doctor snapped. 'I'm in perfect health, as you can see. Sarah, stop trying to cause trouble.'

'Me cause trouble?' she asked in mock innocence. She simply couldn't resist baiting the Doctor at times. 'I suppose sitting out here in a tiny boat at night with an unknown killer is playing it safe?'

'It's as safe as I could make it,' the Doctor answered. 'But I need some answers to too many questions. And this is the only place to get them.'

Sarah stared over the surface of the sea. The sun had gone down now, and the Doctor had vetoed the idea of burning a lantern, wanting to stay out of sight of possible observers. Stars sprinkled across the blackness were also reflected choppily in the waters below. They were the only lights visible, and it was like being afloat in s.p.a.ce.

And then 'Doctor!' she hissed, not wanting to raise her voice too loudly. Both doctors joined her in the bows, and they all stared out into the depths.

Far below the boat, lights were visible in the water that were definitely not stars. There was a greenish tint to them, though that could be nothing more than the water casting a hue to white lights. There were hundreds of these lights, spread in a gigantic cartwheel-like shape. The hub of this wheel was several hundred yards to the left port! of the small boat. As Sarah stared in awe and astonishment at the shape, she could see that it was slowly turning.

'What is that?' she asked, spellbound.

'I've heard about phenomena like this,' Doyle answered her, just as gently. 'It's phosph.o.r.escence of some kind, as I understand it. There are minute sea creatures that glow in the night and live in colonies of thousands of individuals.'

'And they're all big fans of Wagon Train Wagon Train,' the Doctor scoffed. 'Doyle, those minute sea animals live in much warmer waters than these, and they certainly aren't organized in regular battalions. That's not a natural phenomenon.'

'Then what is it?' asked Doyle, somewhat peevishly.

'I'm not entirely sure,' the Doctor replied evasively.

'Then be a little uncertain!'

'Offhand, I'd say it was some kind of activity taking place on the sea bed.' The Doctor frowned. 'And one controlled by considerable intelligence.'

Sarah snorted. 'Oh, right. Davy Jones is a little restless tonight, so he's holding a dance.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Sarah, Sarah,' he chided. 'I expect incredulity from Doyle; after all, he's a rational man.

But I had hoped for better from you; after all, you're a journalist.'

'Thanks a heap.' Sarah couldn't take her eyes from the slow, majestic movement of lights. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it was. 'Are you suggesting that there's somebody down there right now doing that? In 1880?'

'Yes.'

'But how? The submarine hasn't been invented yet.'

'Actually, it has,' the Doctor contradicted her. 'Simply not developed yet. But I don't think that what we're seeing is native to this time. Or, perhaps, native to this world.'

Doyle gave an inarticulate cry. 'This is getting too preposterous,' he protested. 'That's the second time you've mentioned some kind of intrusion from another era, and now you also imply that this anomalous phenomenon might be the product of some otherworldly forces?'

'Forget your preconceived notions, Doyle!' thundered the Doctor. He gestured over the bows of the boat. 'Use your rationality to explain that if you can! If not, shut up and listen to wiser heads than yours.'

Doyle subsided, but Sarah could tell that he wasn't at all happy at whatever thoughts were pa.s.sing through his mind. She could hardly blame them: the notion of time travel and alien intruders must be horribly far-fetched to him. Even his character of Professor Challenger hadn't faced quite this kind of puzzle, and he wouldn't create that irritable man of science for years yet.

Sarah stared out at the waters, and smiled. 'I don't know what is causing it,' she admitted, 'but it's very pretty.' There was also something vaguely familiar about the lights, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

' ” Pretty” isn't a scientific term,' the Doctor said softly. Then he grinned. 'But it is accurate. It's like a Christmas tree underwater, isn't it?'

'Perhaps we should be a little more cautious,' Doyle suggested, 'in leaning out to observe those lights. After all, Tolliver was obviously looking over the side of the boat when he was attacked.'

The Doctor appeared astonished at the thought. 'My dear chap,' he cried. 'Of course! That's exactly what must have happened. He saw these lights, then leaned over for a better look and '

Sarah and Doyle both dragged the Doctor away from the gunwale as he looked set to re-enact the accident. 'We may be safer here,' Sarah said, with a thankful nod at Doyle. 'Smart thinking.'

'I knew what I was doing,' the Doctor said peevishly. 'There was no need for that.'

'Whatever you say,' Sarah agreed. She could still see the wheel turning slowly below the water, though not as clearly.

The surface of the water was starting to get choppy, breaking up the image.

'This is all very ' Doyle began.

The boat gave a shudder as something slammed into it from below. It heaved in the water, and twisted, falling back with a crash. Sarah, caught completely off-guard, skidded across the small deck and into the gunwale. She barely had time to yelp from the pain to her s.h.i.+ns when the boat was rammed a second time from underneath and it gave another lurch. Arms failing wildly, Sarah attempted unsuccessfully to regain her balance. She heard the Doctor cry out, and then she was falling.

The water was cold and hard as she splashed down into it. The force of the impact stunned her, and she felt herself going under. At least she'd taken a gulp of air as she'd fallen, and she held her breath as she sank into the inky, frozen depths. As soon as she could move, she started to stroke with her hands, slowing her descent.

Her clothing was thoroughly wet. The Victorian dress, long and flowing, had been so impractical on the surface; here, waterlogged, she was afraid it would drag her down to her death. Frantically, she tried to stroke back toward the surface, but it was too hard. It felt as if an icy hand was dragging her down to her doom.