by Mark Speed
"You're filling his head full of nonsense again, Doctor. I said doctor!"
"Yes, alright, alright, Mrs Thomson, I'm here."
"No, I'm calling for a hospital doctor, you silly man. Doctor! Charge nurse!"
"Look, I've left care instructions pinned to their chests. This one's just had a bit of a bad tumble. The other's had his leg reattached."
"Reattached?" Mrs Thomson's attention snapped from the Doctor's face to a point a few feet behind him. "And what the hell do you people want?"
The Doctor turned to see three Metropolitan Police officers jogging across the room towards them. They impacted with a doctor and two nurses running out of the treatment area.
"Well, lovely to see you, Mrs Thomson," said the Doctor, backing towards the Spectrel. "Kevin and I must be going. I've got an urgent house call to make. Kevin's doing very well, by the way. Come on, lad!" The Doctor disappeared into the Spectrel.
The police and medical staff disentangled themselves. The charge nurse shouted some comments at the officers whilst the doctor examined Jackson's leg and the other nurse made sure Smith's airways were clear.
"Like, I gotta go, Mum," said Kevin, and took a determined step towards the Spectrel, which disappeared.
"Don't you dare walk away from your mother whilst she's speaking," said his mother. Referring to herself in the third person touched Kevin's fear nerve on a deeper level than it had been when the giant beetle had broken through concrete inches from his head.
"Mum, it's urgent. I've got responsibilities."
"You've got responsibilities? Are you responsible for what happened to these men?"
The largest of the police officers grabbed Kevin and turned him to face the wall. A second was calling in backup and a policewoman closed in on Mrs Thomson, separating her from her son.
"Is he the Doctor?" asked the policewoman.
"No, the doctor's down there helping the patient," said Mrs Thomson. "I'm a nurse, I have to help too."
"We're looking for two men. One of them fits this man's description. I take it he's your son. Is he the Doctor's assistant?"
Kevin was still facing the wall. The large officer had put on blue latex gloves and was searching his pockets. His familiarity with the routine allowed him to relax – at least he was safe from his mother's questioning.
"Yes, yes, he's been assisting the Doctor. Now, let him go. He did a very good thing by bringing in two injured men."
"Madam, we were at the entrance to the building and we didn't see them come in. We don't know how he got these men in on his own. He must have several accomplices. Right now, I'd say that you look like you're under suspicion."
"What the hell is wrong with a man bringing injured people into an accident and emergency department? Are you out of your mind?"
"We were told to be on alert for two men delivering injured men who had been kidnapped. My colleague's just had confirmation that they were wearing nuclear, biological and chemical suits."
"They're here and they're alive, officer."
"Yes, but they were kidnapped."
"Well, they don't seem to be kidnapped right now, do they?"
The doctor had finished her initial examination of both men, and each was being lifted onto a gurney. "Excuse me, officer," she said. "I need nurse Thomson to attend to some patients, if you don't mind."
"How are they, doctor?" asked Mrs Thomson.
"Astonishingly well, if what's on the notes is correct. If this was April the first I'm not sure what I'd be thinking. The one with the leg injury's just heading up to MRI. We'll know more after that. But it looks like someone's quick intervention saved that man's leg. Do you have a problem with that, officer?"
"We just need some questions answered," said the officer. "Like how they got here. And where the other man is who helped this one. We're looking for a white male in his forties. Slim, smartly dressed."
"So am I," said the doctor. "Heck, if he's got money and a good sense of humour, I'll even pay you a commission. Now, why don't you just leave my staff and their relations out of this. Kevin's a good lad, and I can vouch for him. He was just in here to see his mother."
"We had a description of two men. One just as I've described and the other a black male matching his description," the officer nodded over at Kevin, who now had his back to the wall. He smiled over at the doctor.
"And you couldn't find the matching white male so you just grab the nearest black guy next to the two patients. Marvellous."
"But he matches the description."
"As do a significant number of other males in this room," said the doctor, gesturing towards the silent sea of waiting patients, whose eyes were glued to the conversation. "You chose the one guy who'd stepped up to help the casualties. And his reward is that he's humiliated publicly in front of his peers. I can't say I'm that impressed." She stared coldly at the officer.
"We've got his details if we need to question him further," said the policewoman to her large colleague, who let him go. Kevin picked up the contents of his pockets from a nearby table.
"Thanks again, Kevin," said the doctor, and glanced back pointedly at the policewoman before putting a hand on Mrs Thomson's shoulder and leading her into the treatment area.
"Thanks, doctor. Laters, Mum. Alright?" He gave a half-wave to his mother. "Look, I'll just be making my way back home, alright?" he said to the large officer. The man didn't move out of the way, and Kevin had to step around him. The officers followed him through the crowded rows of silent, seated people waiting for treatment. The doors slid open in front of him and he exited into the cool air of Denmark Hill. The officers followed him out and stopped at the top of the stone steps. Kevin skipped lightly down them and turned.
"So, like, I'll see you round, yeah?" he said. "Good luck with...... whatever. You know?" He glanced around. He'd not normally be able to afford the train, but the Oyster card the Doctor had given him meant he could upgrade from the 45 bus. The train was almost risk-free because gangs from other postcodes couldn't monitor the passengers the way they could with buses. The adventure with the Doctor was clearly over – at least for now. He felt conflicting pangs of relief and regret that he'd not be joining the Time Keeper in the trip to the lair under Essex.
There was the sound of police sirens closing in from two directions and he saw a carrier touch its brakes as it ran the lights at the crossroads near the station before roaring in through the gates to the emergency ward. Kevin stood rooted to the spot. Two police cars raced up the hill from Camberwell and parked on the double yellow lines outside. Officers from the carrier jumped out. He flinched as they ran past him. Five other officers, two armed, got out of the cars and moved more cautiously towards the other police.
Kevin felt eyes boring into his back, but as he turned to go towards the train station he glanced back one last time to make sure the officers weren't following him. Sure enough, thirteen pairs of eyes were staring at him.
Next to the entrance to the A&E department was a red telephone box. He couldn't recall there having been one there before. Even in the daylight it seemed to glow from within. He stopped and turned around fully. The police continued to stare at him.
"Sorry," he said. "I need to phone a friend." They continued to stare at him as he closed the fifteen yards towards the box. Two of the original officers pointed and made comments that he couldn't hear. He smiled back sheepishly. "Just going to... Mobile's out of juice, you see?"
His heart was pounding as he opened the door and stepped in. He took a deep breath and took a confident step towards the back of the box.
He found himself inside the cool white space of the Spectrel.
"Ah, there you are, Kevin. Glad you could make it." The Doctor fiddled with some dials.
A wave of relief washed over Kevin, followed immediately by one of anger. "You just left me out there to dry, man! Like, thanks a lot!"
"I did the best I could, dear fellow."
"No you didn't!"
"Shush. Le
t me explain. I couldn't just start messing with people's memories inside a hospital, could I? There are sick people being treated. If I'd done that, I'd have had to take over their treatment myself or they'd have suffered the consequences. As it is, the cops will barely recall a thing. Your mum and that doctor aren't going to create a stink."
"But you –"
"If you're a bit more invisible to a trio of Her Majesty's Constabulary in the future, is that going to be a handicap?"
"Um..."
"No. Didn't think so. Now, I've just got to get Trini."
"What, we're at home now?"
"I didn't realise you'd moved in."
The Doctor brushed past him and left the Spectrel for a couple of seconds. When he stepped back in he was followed by Trinity in her cat form. She made a beeline for Kevin's legs, and rubbed up against them, purring. He bent down and stroked her head.
"Trinity, darling," said the Doctor. "I think you might want to go and change."
The cat broke away from Kevin and disappeared through the door into the Spectrel beyond the cabin.
"Does she, like, not change in public?"
"Have you ever known a classy female who would?"
"No, but I assumed..."
"You really don't want to see her change, Kevin. Really." The Doctor sat at the control panel and made some adjustments.
Trinity popped back silently into the room in her spider format. Her two main glowing green eyes were the same as they had been in her cat form, but the six surrounding them – and her spider form – still spooked Kevin. He tensed as she crawled soundlessly towards him. She put her two front feet up onto his stomach, and two on the legs of his trousers. He could feel the weight of her as she stared up at him, her mandibles about level with his groin. He reached down and put a hand on her head. The fur felt the same as it did in her cat form, but the surface underneath was not skin – it was a hard shell, rather like the cuticle of the oversized beetle. He stroked Trini's head, and found it helped overcome his discomfort.
"Trini, I don't suppose you've seen any giant beetles in your travels?" said Kevin.
"She's never mentioned any," said the Doctor. "Mind you, doesn't mean to say she hasn't. Unlikely, though. Trini comes from a jungle environment."
"Jungle? Really? I'd have thought rocks. Or maybe desert or something."
"No, you need jungle to support something like her. Hugely productive, jungle, in terms of edible biomass. Sort of the terrestrial equivalent of a coral reef."
"I imagine her jaws must have come in useful for chopping off the occasional branch, eh?"
"Unlikely. More like cutting through the hard outer casing of some prey."
"So do you think –"
"She'd be any use against the beetles? Don't know. Aside from that, they're oil-based. How do you like the taste of petroleum products?"
"I don't."
"Same for Trini. Eats the same sort of things as you, finds the same sorts of things distasteful. Haven't tried her on Jamaican patties, though. Besides, she much prefers her food raw. Preferably alive."
A 3D projection popped into being in front of the control panel. "Right, both of you, eyes front. All eight please, Trinity."
"Not very good, is it?"
"I'm so sorry that it's not to your apparently sudden very high standards, Kevin. Spectacularly high, given that you come from a society which believes a three-in-one dishwasher tablet that leaves glass clean is a technological breakthrough. What next for your scientists? Paint that dries? As previously explained, we can only go on the data from the hack. There's also interference."
Kevin rolled his eyes. "So, like, we have no data at all?"
"Nope."
"We're just going in blind? We could be ambushed, or anything!"
"Absolutely right. Well spotted. You're in exactly the same position as your forebears who died fighting for your country."
"Like, could you not emphasise the died bit? Maybe if you said fought."
"Sorry, not selling this very well, am I? Perhaps if I told you it came with an added revolutionary teeth-whitening agent?"
"Can you just be straight with me, Doc? Like, what's the plan?"
"Well..."
"You mean you don't even have a plan? Jeez-Louise! Even those numbskulls in the Tulse Hill Crew always have a plan, man!"
"Aha, but they always end up in prison. Eventually."
"Oh. Right. I think the consequences of an epic fail here are a bit worse, Doc. Like, what's your objective?"
"Thank you for asking, Kevin," sighed the Doctor. "First, it's intelligence. I want to know who they are and their intentions. Second, I want to destroy or disrupt if I deem it necessary."
"Good. Now tell me how you intend to do that."
"Since I can't hack into their systems from here – and frankly I don't want to run the risk of a cyber-attack on my Spectrel either – I need to get in there with the old Tsk Army Ultraknife and see what they're up to."
Kevin nodded his head slowly. "Riiight. And I'm guessing me and Trini are going to keep these guys occupied whilst you do that?"
The Doctor brightened. "Excellent," he said. "So much better when people volunteer, rather than me having to bark orders at them."
"Trini, is he always this bad at delegating?"
The spider dipped her head twice.
"So you've got your Ultraknife and Trini's got her natural fighting ability. What do I get?"
"You've already got it, Kevin: your very own wit and guile. You did tremendously well in this morning's little scrape. You'll be fine. Really. And Trini will look after your back. Won't you Trini?"
Trini hesitated, then her head bobbed up and down as she hissed.
"If it's okay with you, I'd prefer, like, a blaster or something."
"A blaster?"
"Well, yeah. You know, a laser, or maybe a plasma weapon of some sort. Failing that, I'd settle for a Glock like the Met use."
"The thing is, Kevin, is that these beetles do have a tendency to explode, as demonstrated earlier."
"I don't want to shoot at the beetles. I want to shoot at the bad guys."
"Look, shooting at people is generally a really, really bad idea."
"Yeah? Why?"
"They tend to shoot back." Kevin opened his mouth but the Doctor was losing his patience and cut him off with a wave. "You will be wearing some protective gear, though." A bot came out of the door that led into the rest of the Spectrel. Hanging underneath were a helmet, goggles, a balaclava, boots, a two-piece suit and some gloves.
"Oh, cool, man!" Kevin had no qualms about changing in front of his companions. The top garment slipped over his head and had a roll-neck that went to his chin. He'd been expecting something thick and cushioned, but remembered what the Doctor had said about the properties of his own ordinary-looking suit and shirt, and realised that technology would have moved on. Although it clung tightly to him, it didn't restrict his movements. Indeed, it seemed to enhance them in a way he couldn't quite understand. The trousers were of the same material. The boots weighed much less than he'd thought, and their fit and grip were unlike anything he'd experienced. When he put the balaclava on he'd expected to find his breath restricted and to feel the moisture of his own breath, but the restriction was minimal. The helmet adjusted its internal dimensions to fit his head perfectly, and when he put on the goggles it didn't seem like he was wearing them at all. The bot picked up his discarded clothes and hovered out of the room.
"You'll still be able to smell things through the face-mask, but it won't let anything through in toxic quantities. Just don't get over-confident in that kit. It'll protect you against a multitude of things, including poisoned gas, vacuum and fire – but stupidity isn't one of them. And, before you ask, the answer is no – you're not allowed to keep it. Restricted technology. Only for use on missions authorised by me."
"Well, I might just tiptoe out wearing it."
"And you wonder why I didn't issue you with it this morning?"
"My God, you never did. I could've been killed!"
"This morning wasn't supposed to be dangerous. Besides, you handled yourself perfectly well."
"I tell you, you're not going to get me out of this clobber in a hurry. I'm wearing this when I go back to the Hill, man, and you ain't stopping me."
The Doctor chuckled. "I think you'll find the 'clobber' has a will of its own."
"You what?" He felt a sudden restriction in his groin area. "Nuff said. I get the message."
The bot returned with a thick black rod dangling under it and hovered to a stop next to Kevin. "What's this? Looks like a slimmed down baseball bat."
"Grab it by the handle and swing it around a bit."
Kevin took the rod in his gloved hand and swung it. "Oh, wow. I can't tell you what this feels like. I feel like I could knock a home run on every ball!"
"That's not strictly true, because the ball would disintegrate with the force you're able to exert."
"Oh, baby," said Kevin, and swung the bat around some more. "It's like that scene in Star Wars when they're in the Millennium Falcon and Luke Skywalker's using the force to block the shots from the training globe."
"No it's not, and kindly don't swing that thing in here. It does have friend-or-foe recognition, but you're making the Spectrel nervous. And me."
"What is it?"
"A Tsk Army Con-Bat."
"Combat?"
"No, Con-Bat. Con, as in against. Bat, as in bat. For those situations requiring a special kind of force, was how the advertising went."
"These Tsk people are fierce."
"I'll say. Now throwing spears at each other back on their home planet."
"You what?" Kevin stopped swinging the Con-Bat.
"Quite literally bombed themselves back to the stone age."
"But –"
"Civilisations rise and fall. Some more easily and frequently than others."
"How did you get it?"
The Doctor shrugged. "Visited them towards the end of their second civilisation, of course."
"It feels like my body is like, superpowered, or something, Doc." Kevin was moving around the cabin of the Spectrel.
"That's the suit. It's power-assist, rather than just passive. I did warn you not to get too confident in it because you might ––"