Part 16 (1/2)

'Kerbe's dead. Fraulein Thorsuun got bored of him.'

'Charming.'

The Cat-People's leader walked over and looked him up and down. 'Is this human of any value to either of you?'

Thorsuun shook her head and turned back to her screen, watching a drawing of Earth slowly turning. Ben saw 123 multicoloured lines crisscrossing it. The Doctor, however, nodded at the leader. 'Queen Aysha, I would suggest keeping Ben alive. He makes a useful hostage and will keep me in check. If I annoy you, just threaten to kill him and I'll be as good as gold.'

'If you annoy us, I'll threaten to kill you,' said the tatty tabby.

'No, Lotuss,' said Aysha. 'The Doctor isn't stupid.

Threatening to kill him wouldn't work - he doesn't fear death like the humans do. Keep this new one alive. For now,' she added, looking at the Doctor. He beamed happily.

'Oh, goody. Now, Ben, you sit there - ' he pointed to the navigation chair next to his - 'and agree to be good. OK?'

'OK, squire, whatever you say.'

Aysha waved over the white cat with the grey spot.

'Jayde, return to the Grange. Find this Atimkos and eradicate him. Bring the female back here - and the kittens. . . What do you humans call your young?'

'Children,' said the Doctor. 'But they'd prefer to be known as students.'

'What are they studying?'

'They think they're ghost-hunting. I suspect they're really being used to find a nexus point into hyper reality. Is that right, Fraulein Thorsuun?'

'Spot on, Doctor,' she said without looking away from her monitor.

Aysha motioned to the door. 'Bring these students as well, Jayde. If there is any resistance, slaughter one of them. That ought to bring the rest into line.'

Jayde saluted, paw across breast. 'Your Majesty,' she said, opening the hatchway, and left.

As the hatchway slid shut Ben nodded towards Thorsuun.

'She's looking for her ley lines then?'

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. 'Your friend Tim seems to have filled you in.'

'Yeah, but there's something funny about him, too. Polly trusts him but I'm not so sure.'

124.

'Polly trusts everyone until she's learned otherwise, Ben.

That's her only real fault. But I suspect it's in Tim's interest to keep her safe. My hope is that Simon isn't silly enough to let him know about the book I gave them. The RTC. If Tim is after what I think he's after, him having possession of that could be very dangerous.'

Ben nodded. 'Ah, well. That Aussie seemed to be sensible enough.'

'I hope so, Ben,' said the Doctor. 'I hope so.'

'What's the book doing exactly?' Polly asked. Tim did not reply.

'Time flows backwards and forwards over it,' said Simon.

'It's coated in reverse tachyon-chronons.'

'What does that mean exactly?'

'He doesn't know,' smiled Carfrae, hugging Simon's arm and pulling him just a little further away from Polly than he wanted to be. 'But he likes to pretend he does.'

Simon felt himself go red - partially in embarra.s.sment because Carfrae was right and partially in annoyance at her action. He pulled himself away from her. 'Thanks, Miss Morgan.'

'Quiet!' shouted Tim, contradicting himself. 'We're getting somewhere.' He turned away from the book and pointed at Peter. 'Could you turn the field off, please, Peter Moore.

Thank you.'

With a shrug Peter did as he was asked and the room realigned itself to reality. Polly gasped. The others just stared. 'What's happened?'

Tim looked up. The pale-painted and chipped walls and stained wooden door frame had gone. They were in a wood-panelled room and the door was back in place, but with a wrought-iron door handle instead of the bolt Peter had pointlessly screwed on.

'We're in the same place about a hundred years ago. Shall we explore?' Without waiting for an answer he opened the door and walked out. Simon was the last to leave, casting an eye over the incongruous twentieth-century equipment that 125 had been transported with them. Then he wandered into the hallway.

There were plants at the foot of the carpeted stairs, green drapes hung around the windows and huge front door and where he had expected to see the kitchen door was another wood-panelled wall. He wandered over to a ma.s.sive mirror by the door where a letter was lying on a silver platter. He held it up to the others. 'Richmond Dent, The Grange, Meckerbet, near Whitehaven, c.u.mbria. Guess he owned the place. Owns it,' he corrected himself.

There was a noise from the top of the stairs and as one they turned. Standing there, dressed in a severe black dress and cap, carrying a candle was a woman. She was staring at them in surprise.

'My G.o.d,' breathed Peter. 'She's who I saw when I fell.'

The woman took a cautious step or two down the stairs and held the candle out further until it cast across the a.s.sembled group. With a shriek she dropped the candle and tripped backwards.

'Yes! That's what happened!' Peter was excited.

Tim stepped forward to the bottom of the stairs. 'Yes, drop the amateur dramatics.'

'I doesn't know what you be meaning, good sir,' said the woman timidly.

'Oh, just turn the ruddy lights on!' he snapped.

There was a pause and then the woman got up.

'Spoilsport. I hope none of the locals can see this.' She whistled shrilly for a second and the hallway was bathed in bright light. 'So you got here then. What year?'

'1994.'.

'What, a hundred-odd years? I knew this was a waste but he was so sure you'd get here by 1875.'

Tim sighed. 'Yeah, well, he was wrong wasn't he?'

' ”Yeah, well,” ' the woman mimicked. 'Oh, we have adopted the vernacular. In Victorian times we speak properly. The Queen's English, good sir. And as housekeeper, nurse and local busybody, I have to keep up the pretence.'