Part 27 (2/2)

The Doctor shook his head almost imperceptibly. Julie subsided.

'Okay. Fine. I'm coming. Catch you later, guys.'

The door locked behind her.

Cheryl stood in the middle of the room until Teal guided her to a seat.

'Cheryl?' the Doctor said softly. 'Cheryl? What's happening out there?' When she didn't respond, he knelt down in front of her and, taking her head between his hands, stared deep into her eyes.

'a.n.u.shkia and Filo Julee are being forced to help as well,' she said finally. 'They didn't need me; support services are no longer required, the neural net has been disinfected and most systems are up and running again.' She shook her head, and for the first time some life appeared in her expression. 'Even the corridor twelve toilet is working for the first time in five years. They're taking over.' She frowned at the Doctor. 'But what are we going to do about it?'

The Doctor grinned as Teal answered for him: 'I think the Doctor may have that angle covered.'

'I might have guessed.'

The Doctor doffed his hat politely. 'Bernice should be along any time now to get us out of here. In the meantime, I think a little dialogue with The Man Who Knows would be in order.' He crossed to where Miles was scrunched into a corner, staring blankly into thin air, and crouched beside him.

'Miles? Listen to me, Miles.' He began to speak in a language which had been dead on Earth for more than two centuries.

The null*gray units on the food machine packed in halfway down the main corridor. Bernice had a moment to direct the machine into a side*tunnel before it crashed to the floor and she cracked her head painfully against the interior casing. She kicked her way clear of the device, rubbing life back into her bruised shoulders and knees. 'Time to diet,' she muttered to herself ruefully, peering around and trying to orient herself in the dim, night*lit corridor. As she did so, there was a series of heavy clicks and the lights came back on. Great. That was all she needed.

Footsteps echoed loudly from the direction of the main corridor. Military footsteps. Quickly, Bernice looked around for somewhere to hide. She'd be no good to the Doctor if she were recaptured almost straight away. Besides, it would be embarra.s.sing.

Running silently to a nearby doorway, Bernice thumbed the lock and slipped into the darkened room beyond. She held the door open a centimetre as the footsteps approached, and peered through the gap.

It was Ace.

Bernice pulled distractedly at her dreadlocks, trying to be angry at the girl, trying to feel betrayed. But her own childhood was still too close for the effort to be effective.

She looked around. She was standing in some kind of cable run: wires of all thicknesses and colours pa.s.sed through collars in the ceiling, crept down the walls and exited the room through collars bolted into the floor. There was, needless to say, no other way out.

Oh well. Only one thing for it.

She inched the door open a little more and peered in both directions. Apart from Ace and the wrecked food machine, the pa.s.sage was empty.

'Ace,' she hissed. 'Ace, it's me, Benny.'

Ace stopped in her tracks. She turned quickly, flattening against the corridor wall in automatic antic.i.p.ation of hostile fire. Bernice opened the door fully and stepped into the corridor.

Ace was looking at her with wide eyes.

Bernice swallowed. 'It's okay, there's no one else here. We can talk now.'

Ace's arm was a blur of motion. Bernice instinctively jerked backwards. When she refocused on Ace, there was a gun clutched in the girl's fist. The barrel was pointing straight between Bernice's eyes.

Oops.

'On the other hand, maybe I'll just shut up.'

Ace's cold expression was answer enough.

Getting into an unfamiliar starsuit one*handed hadn't been easy, but Christine had persevered with the same determination which had brought her to Eden in the first place. Now she was inside and sealed tight, the hollow, ringing thump and the vibrations of the executive transporter grapples were much reduced. Also reduced were the cries of disgust from technicians as some new crushed atrocity was found glued to the outer hull or smeared across the wall of the executive transporter bay. She had been lucky: more lucky than she had deserved. The troopers who had been outside the executive transporter with her had been so thoroughly pulped that it was impossible to tell the bodies apart, and that meant there was a fair chance her body would be a.s.sumed to be one of them. Thankfully, n.o.body had considered that she might have managed to get inside the transporter.

With a great effort of will, Christine put all thoughts of her narrow escape from her mind. A new objective had presented itself, and she intended to carry it out thoroughly. Fate had placed her in a position to find out what the h.e.l.l was going on. If there was one thing Christine had learned over the years spent at her mother's side, it was never to waste an opportunity, whatever the consequences.

'Starsuit... uh... starsuit ten. Engage linkage for mainframe hookup and systems update.'

'Mainframe link engaged. Specify whether auto or manual update required.'

'Manual.'

'List systems to be updated or other command.'

'Other command. Interface primary data structure. Locate...' Christine hesitated. What exactly was she looking for? 'Locate files containing references to the following keywords: Lucifer; Eden; Angel or Angels; Christine LaFayette.'

'One file located. Access restricted. Security clearance required. Please state security clearance and authorization.'

Christine swore.

She thought for a long time. 'IMC zero zero one.'

'Clearance not recognized. Please restate security clearance and authorization.'

She thought again. 'Security clearance by authorization of Madrigal LaFayette.'

'Clearance not recognized. Please restate security clearance and authorization.'

Christine swore. That should have been it! Her mother was responsible for the mission, so it was logical that hang on. Christine half smiled. 'Johann LaFayette,' she said.

'Code clearance valid. File Lucifer: High Level Briefing is now open. Menu as follows: Overview, Special Orders, Methodology.'

Christine shook her head sadly. 'Oh Dad,' she whispered, 'she uses all of us in the end. Even you.'

'Access Overview,' she continued after a few moments.

'Sub*file open.'

A virtual screen opened in front of her eyes, obscuring the head*up displays. The screen showed a living colour portrait of her mother. Christine flinched involuntarily at the stern expression, the iron*grey hair, before remembering that, life*like as it was, the file was just a simulation, a recording.

She whispered, 'Activate.'

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