Part 3 (1/2)

'You do realize that damaging Earth Central property is an offence?'

Bernice froze, startled. A small man dressed in high*collared, floor*length black robes stood over her, 'Don't do that!' she snapped.

'Sorry,' he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. 'May I sit down?' He pulled out a chair and sat without waiting for her reply.

'No,' she said, just for the h.e.l.l of it.

'Thank you.' He smiled as if they'd known each other for years. 'My name is Bishop, but then you probably already know that.'

'I saw you arrive yesterday in that bijou little s.h.i.+p of yours. You're the Adjudicator, aren't you?'

'Yes, I am. And your name is Bernice, isn't it? Bernice Summerfield.'

'And it only took you a day to find out. I'm impressed.'

'I work fast, Krau Summerfield.'

Bernice looked at Bishop more closely. He was a small man. Small and una.s.suming. He could have been a bank manager on some outback planet, or perhaps a priest. His face was notable for its anonymity. She doubted that she would recognize him in a crowd.

'It comes in very useful,' he said.

She jerked guiltily. 'What does?'

'Looking ordinary. Nondescript.'

She rapidly reviewed everything she had been thinking, just in case.

'It's all right,' he said, and smiled again. 'I can't read your mind. It's just that everybody thinks that when they first see me. Some of my closest friends don't recognize me at parties.'

Bernice wondered exactly what kind of parties a man like Bishop might attend.

'Fancy dress?' she asked, straight*faced.

He looked down ruefully at his flowing ebony robes. 'They come with the job, I'm afraid.'

She smiled. 'Not much use in a fight.'

'You'd be surprised what you can hide under here.' His face smoothed over, and she suddenly realized how flat and grey his eyes were. 'Who are you?' he asked quietly.

'Like you said, I'm Bernice Summerfield.' Her voice wasn't as calm as she would have liked.

'Yes, but who are are you? You don't appear in the personnel records. You didn't arrive on any of the robot s.h.i.+ps that drop supplies off here. You don't exist. Who you? You don't appear in the personnel records. You didn't arrive on any of the robot s.h.i.+ps that drop supplies off here. You don't exist. Who are are you?' you?'

'I told you once. If you don't like the answer, you can whistle for another one.'

'Let me help.' He reached into his robes and pulled out a small blue object which he held out to her. 'Recognize it?'

'No,' she lied.

'Let me refresh your memory. It's a drone camera one of a number which keep a permanent record of what goes on in this base.' He indicated a corner of the room, and Bernice noticed for the first time a tiny hovering shape that watched her without eyes. 'A permanent record,' he continued, 'which I've been watching since yesterday.'

He looked down at the object in his hand as if he had suddenly realized what it was himself. 'This one won't be doing much more recording '

'Spying!'

' for some time.' He leaned forward, his face absolutely blank. 'You, your friend the Doctor, and the woman Ace, appeared in the middle of a corridor in one of the newly*opened areas of Belial Base. I don't know how you've managed it, but in the intervening time you've got the entire Base staff eating out of your hands. They seem to think that you've always been here. I know differently. Since you arrived, the security has become subject to an increasing number of corrupt files, and a member of the team has died. You destroyed one of the recording drones, at a cost of some thirty thousand adjusted ergs. Earth cannot afford thirty thousand adjusted ergs. Earth cannot afford you running around on this base like a deranged cybernetic waiter.'

Bernice favoured the Adjudicator with her coldest stare. 'Let me explain. I came in here for some peace, some quiet and, most especially, for a drink. I've got a lot on my plate at the moment. What I don't need is some jumped*up civil servant waving his inferiority complex in my face.'

Bishop leaned back in his chair. His face split in a totally humourless smile. 'Thank you, Krau Summerfield, for that little gem of advice. You've been most helpful.'

Bernice struggled to focus her anger. She couldn't seem to get a handle on Bishop. The Adjudicator was like an egg: seamless, smooth, unfathomable. The only way in was to smash through, but Bernice wasn't sure she wanted to go quite that far yet. What was he thinking? Did he really believe that she, Ace and the Doctor could be responsible for Paula's death? She debated whether to confide in him about her own observations. But would he believe her? Or would he simply regard it as an attempt to deflect attention away from herself? Come to think about it, was she really that certain of her own theory?

Bishop was still smiling. He shook his head. Bernice couldn't tell whether he was answering her unspoken questions or not, but then she supposed that was the whole point. His whole manner seemed geared towards well inscrutability. He wasn't giving anything away.

'Let's get back to the point, shall we?' Once more Bishop a.s.sumed the offensive. 'What are you doing on this base?'

'Does the Base Coordinator know you're annoying everyone like this?'

'He requested my presence here. Please don't avoid the question. I repeat: what are you doing here?'

'Why should you a.s.sume that we're doing anything here?' an ironic voice interjected. Behind Bishop, the Doctor seemed to sway gently on his feet like a modestly*proportioned punchbag. Behind him, Ace slammed the door to the refectory and walked over to sit beside Bernice, crossing her feet on the table and leaning back with her arms folded behind her head.

'Hmph.' The Doctor gently slid Ace's crossed feet a short distance across the table and took a seat. 'My dear Adjudicator, I'm so very pleased to meet you at long last!'

The Adjudicator frowned. 'As I recall, our meeting is not scheduled until twenty*one hundred hours tomorrow.'

'I didn't come here to meet you. I came here to meet Bernice.' The Doctor thrust his head forward rather like an aggressive turtle. 'Privately,' he added pointedly.

'To what end?' Bishop obviously wasn't going to give up so easily.

The Doctor tapped the side of his nose. 'Would you believe a hot toddy?'

Casually, the Doctor beckoned to the food dispenser that had been hovering around waiting for an opportunity to serve them. As it slid up to him, he pressed a b.u.t.ton and offered Bishop one of the two drinks which fell into his waiting hands. When Bishop refused, the Doctor produced two straws from an inside pocket and began simultaneously to drink from both containers.

'Hmm,' he murmured with raised eyebrows. 'Strawberry and oxtail. My favourites.' He took another appreciative gulp. 'You think there's something suspicious about us, don't you, Trau Bishop?'

Bishop just kept smiling the same enigmatic smile.

'It's all right,' the Doctor continued rea.s.suringly, 'I can't read your thoughts. It's just that everybody thinks that when they first see us.'

Cheryl Russell moved with steamroller efficiency across the bleak, charcoal surface of Belial. Behind her came Sam, slightly shorter than her two*metres*one*with*starsuit, and struggling to keep up with her power*a.s.sisted strides.

'Hang about,' mumbled Sam between wheezing breaths. 'I'm not half as young as I used to be.'

Cheryl tried to put a smile into her voice. 'But you look twice your age, so on average you're okay.'