Part 19 (1/2)

'Let's just hope there's a friendly welcome waiting for us.'

'Is that Torvin's s.h.i.+p?' she wondered, spying a stubby, bullet-shaped craft.

'He made it, then,' said the Doctor, as the Polar Lights Polar Lights limped home on the last of its power. 'Jolly good. If one of his rescuers has turned up too we'll have a four for bridge.' limped home on the last of its power. 'Jolly good. If one of his rescuers has turned up too we'll have a four for bridge.'

She looked wearily at him.

'You think I'm joking,' said the Doctor. The s.h.i.+p shook slightly as it nestled into the docking bay. 'We're pretty much out of fuel. Had to swing ourselves twice around Leda so her gravity could push us on to this point. We're not going anywhere else in a hurry.'

106.

'Maybe Torvin will let us borrow his s.h.i.+p,' said Trix. She pulled Klimt's old jacket on over one of Falsh's silky-soft s.h.i.+rts and trotted towards the exit. 'Let's see what he says.'

He wasn't saying much, lying slumped over a table in some kind of cafeteria area. His bald spot with its hairy mole glared out at them from his grey tangle of hair. There was a half-finished chiggock meal and a selection of pills scattered in front of him.

'Torvin!' cried the Doctor, running across to check his pulse.

Trix stared around the clinical white surroundings, wondering if the fish-thing had got here ahead of them.

'He's in some kind of stupor,' the Doctor reported, cradling the man's head in his arms. He tugged open one of Torvin's eyelids.

'Drink?'

The Doctor picked up a pill, sniffed it, and tentatively tapped it with his tongue.

'What is it?'

'How on Earth should I know?' he muttered.

Trix folded her arms. 'T.J. Hooker, you ain't.'

'I'm glad you noticed.' He sighed. 'But from the state of him, it's likely he's taken a very powerful narcotic.'

'Drugs!'

The Doctor shrugged. 'Diamorphine, perhaps. . . '

'Hard stuff.' Suddenly his detached behaviour back on Thebe, his dereliction of duty, his disa.s.sociation from the bad stuff; it all made sense. Trix came over to see, a sort of ghoulish fascination compelling her. 'Don't see any needles.'

'I'm sure drug abuse has moved with the times like everything else.'

Trix picked up one tablet set apart from the others between finger and thumb. It had been placed beside a gla.s.s of water. 'He didn't take this one.'

'Show me.' The Doctor took it from her and studied it closely. At length he reached a verdict. 'Interesting.' Then he popped the pill in Torvin's mouth, threw back the man's head and poured some of the water into his gullet.

Trix stared. 'That might have been anything! Poison! You may have given him an overdose!'

'This is a labour-saving age,' he said briskly. 'If those pills I took from you are anything to go by, I've a feeling addiction isn't given much shrift around here.' Then he seemed to soften, and patted Torvin on the shoulder. 'Stay with him. I'm going for a look around. Check we're alone.'

Shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets, he walked off down the gleaming corridors before Trix could open her mouth to protest.

But then, there was a saving grace to her predicament.

107.

A HUGE telly stood in the corner of the room! It was superslim, barely a centimetre thick, and the screen was pretty much the size of a wall. Presumably the builders sat around and watched it all day instead of finis.h.i.+ng the place.

She went over and hunted for an on b.u.t.ton, but there wasn't a sign of one anywhere.

Suddenly it sprang into life. Some sporting event men in bodysuits running around a purple pitch slinging b.a.l.l.s at each other bulged out of the set with frightening clarity, like it was happening around her. Trix jumped, took a few steps back instinctively.

And caught movement behind her.

She turned to find Torvin holding a tiny remote in his palm, that funny smile on his face.

'You made it then,' he said.

'We thought you you weren't going to,' said Trix, collecting her cool. It was weird weren't going to,' said Trix, collecting her cool. It was weird suddenly he was alert again, bright. Apart from a weird kind of woodenness about his features, he looked perfectly well. 'You seemed kind of strung out, there. Feeling OK?'

'You gave me the pick-up,' he retorted with a yawn and a stretch. 'Was on an eight-hour comedown. Wasn't expecting company for a while.'

'Your friends are coming for you?'

'I sent a message from the s.h.i.+p.' He sighed, rubbing his eyes. Trix noticed his hands were shaking just a little. 'Arranged a rendezvous. Now, I've just got to wait. I hate waiting.'

'So you thought you'd get off your head?'

'Better than just. . .

thinking about everything the whole time.' about everything the whole time.'

That haunted look came back into his eyes. 'You know, I wasn't expecting you to get off Thebe, let alone. . . ' Torvin tailed off, staring at her chest. Trix was about to make a pointed comment when she realised it was the name badge on her jacket that had taken his attention.

'Klimt,' Torvin read. 'I thought your name was Trix?'

'Stylish, huh. Found it on that little piece of Carme your boys overlooked.'

'So it does does exist.' He swigged from the jug of water. 'And what else did you find, Investigator?' exist.' He swigged from the jug of water. 'And what else did you find, Investigator?'

'Not much.' She watched him as he started to put away his stockpile of tablets. 'How does it work, Torvin? One minute you're completely out of it, then a swig of water and a miracle pill and you're back just like that.'

He was looking at her like she was winding him up. 'What stories have you been listening to?'

She refused to blush. 'The Doctor said that was diamorphine you were taking.'

108.