Ty was at his side, and he could have sworn she’d read his mind.
‘Take us at least an hour,’ she said. ‘To walk out to where the river silted up. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?’
‘If the water level’s dropping this quickly,’ the Doctor said, lowering his hand from his eyes, ‘then it must be going somewhere. And short of someone pulling a plug out of the bottom of the river, the only sensible place is back to the sea.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘Yes. That’s what I’m thinking about. Up for it?’
Candy was puzzled – not to mention worried – about Col. He’d disappeared.
She searched all over, asking everyone she met. At first, she assumed he’d just wandered off somewhere. But that wasn’t like Col. He rarely went out into the forest or the swamps on his own, and then only when he really had to. His duties were all at the settlement, in the offices, zoo lab or in the kitchens.
It was the in the refectory that Candy finally found a clue. Janis, the duty cook, told her that she’d seen Col not twenty minutes ago. He’d said something about the One Small Step – with an oddly worried look on his face. And then he’d snatched a couple of wrapped duck sandwiches from the counter and rushed off.
It wasn’t much to go on, thought Candy, but it was all she had. So she grabbed a waterproof jacket from a hook near the door and set off into the forest.
It didn’t take her long to pick up his trail. Candy had plenty of experience of tracking animals, and she was quick to spot the signs of Col’s passage: a broken branch here, a footprint there. The fact that Col wasn’t a small man made the footprints deeper and easier to spot. But she was relieved when she came across one of the sandwich wrappers, flapping on a branch – now she knew that she was on the right track. The route to the ship followed the path to the old settlement for a couple of kilometres and then veered right, inland. The flood had washed it a lot farther than anyone had expected, according to Orlo, and the journey took her through relatively unfamiliar territory. The forest thinned out closer to the water, replaced by lower bushes and soggier ground. Fortunately, for once, there was no sign of rain. Before she knew it, she was breaking out of the vegetation at the peak of a small hill; and standing not a hundred yards away, slumped over on its side in a half-drained river, was the One Small Step. It was a sorry sight.
She, along with the other settlers, had seen it in all its grandeur before take-off back on Earth. Launched from just outside Mbandaka in the Democratic Republic of Congo (because of its proximity to the Equator and the ease of launching), the ship had blazed golden in the evening sun, eliciting gasps of delight from all of them. Back then it had shone like a star.
But much of that glory had been burned away by the launch and planetfall. And by the time the settlers had set foot on their new home, it was looking much the worse for wear. All those months under water had done nothing to improve matters. Only the three fins (totally functionless, Orlo had told her, there simply to look good!) retained any of their shine. One of them rose to the roof of the forest, albeit at something of a lopsided angle.
The flood had painted the rest of the ship in shades of mud-brown, slime-green and disaster-grey. And then the rain had streaked rivulets of cleanness down its side. Candy slithered down the bank towards the river, spotting Col’s footprints in the gloopy mud as she went. She thought about shouting Col’s name, but something made her hold back. She felt a bit guilty, but she wanted to find out what he was up to, and giving him advance warning that she was on her way might not be a good idea. As she reached the ship, she saw that the passenger ladder was still intact. Bent at a weird angle, but, amazingly, still intact. It dangled a couple of feet from the mud – from where Col’s footprints ended.
Candy looked up across the vast, barrelling curve of the ship, and noticed a dozen holes in the plating, a shattered window on the flight deck and a vast gouge along the ship’s flank… She sighed. It would take a lot of work to make this fly again. Gritting her teeth, Candy reached for the ladder, grabbed firmly, and began to haul herself up.
Whilst Martha slept, she dreamed. A dream more vivid, more solid than any she’d had before.
She was standing in a lake – a vast, mirror-smooth lake – that stretched to the horizon all around her. The sky above was a deep blue, untouched by clouds. High overhead burned a tiny, white sun, but when she stared up at it, it didn’t hurt her eyes. The lake must have been shallow, since it only came up to her knees.
Suddenly, as she looked down, the waters around her began to froth and seethe as something under the surface moved violently. She stared at the boiling white foam rising rapidly around her, unable to move, unable to cry out. Something strong and powerful grabbed her ankles and began to pull her under. Thrashing her arms about, trying to remain upright, Martha opened her mouth to scream as the water flooded in—
—and then she was sitting bolt upright in the bed, sobbing and shuddering.
‘Doctor!’ she heard a voice call out – a girl’s voice, close to hand.
Martha opened her eyes to see a young woman, probably in her late twenties, standing at the side of the bed. She was wearing dark-blue combat trousers with lots of pockets and a light-blue shirt. Her head was shaved, and an intricate ivy-leaf tattoo crept up the right-hand side of her neck and coiled around her ear.
She’d said ‘Doctor!’ Martha suddenly realised, and looked round, hoping to see…
But the man who came rushing over wasn’t the Doctor at all. Wasn’t her Doctor. He had a pale green coat on – at least Martha imagined that it was pale green: the orange light flooding in from the window made judging colours a bit tricky – with a name badge that read ‘Dr Sam Hashmi’.
‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ Martha said as Dr Hashmi tried to make her lie back down. ‘Just a dream. I’m fine.’
But this doctor clearly didn’t think she was, and began checking her pupils.
‘I’m fine,’ Martha insisted after a few seconds. ‘Honestly. I could do with a drink of water, though.’
The doctor nodded and passed her the glass from beside the bed that she’d drunk from earlier, now refilled. She gulped it down gratefully, feeling it soothe the burning she felt inside.
‘You’re Martha, aren’t you?’ asked the girl. ‘I’m Carolina, the duty nurse – the Doctor rescued you from the otters.’
‘The what?’
‘He and Ty – Professor Benson – found you in one of the otter nests.’
Otter nests? What was she talking about? Martha screwed up her eyes and tried to remember. And suddenly it all came back to her again: the chamber, the animals in there. And…
‘Something tried to kill me,’ she said steadily, trying not to let herself get worked up again. ‘Something—’
‘We know,’ interrupted Sam, refilling her water glass and passing it back to her. She glugged it down, not caring that it spilled down her chin and onto the hospital gown they’d dressed her in while she’d slept. ‘The Doctor told us. How are you feeling?’
Martha just shook her head.
‘Lousy,’ she said – and managed a laugh. ‘We were supposed to be going for a swanky breakfast… Should’ve known it’d go wrong somehow. Where is he?’
‘The Doctor?’ said Sam. ‘I think he’s gone with Ty – back to the settlement. The first one.’
Martha’s confusion clearly showed on her face.
‘The one that drowned in the flood.’ Carolina looked puzzled that Martha still wasn’t getting it. ‘Sunday City.’ After a second or two, she glanced at Sam, worried.
‘I think you need to rest,’ he said, obviously sharing Carolina’s concern. ‘A few more hours’ sleep and you’ll be fine.’
‘Sunday? Where’s Sunday? We were supposed to be going to New York.’
‘New York?’ said Carolina. ‘Well, you’re about a hundred light years off-course for New York, babes.’
Martha let her head flop back on the pillow with a sigh.
‘He’s done i
t again, hasn’t he?’
‘Who?’ asked Carolina. ‘Done what?’
‘The Doctor – he’s gone and got us lost again.’ She shook her head, smiling.
‘But I thought he was an adjudicator – sent here from Earth.’
‘A what?’ Martha struggled to sit up again. There was something about the word that sounded very official, very serious.
‘An adjudicator,’ repeated Carolina. ‘That’s what he told Pallister – Chief Councillor Pallister.’
‘Ohhh,’ said Martha after a couple of seconds, realising that – as usual – events were starting to run out of control. ‘Right. Yeah. That’s right – he’s an adjudicator.’ She watched Carolina and Sam’s expressions to check she was getting it right. ‘From Earth. It’s just that…’ Martha struggled for a moment. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she’d woken up in a hospital straight out of Little House on the Prairie, she now had to keep up with whatever hare-brained explanation the Doctor had given these people. ‘It’s just that we were supposed to stop off in New York for breakfast first. Before coming here.’ She rolled her eyes theatrically. ‘Typical, eh? He decided to come straight here and didn’t think to tell me. Isn’t that so like him!’
Carolina glanced at Sam. Martha couldn’t quite work out whether they’d sussed what she was up to or whether they just thought she’d gone mental. Oh well, the Doctor could sort it all out when he got back. All she had to do was to play the dopey patient for a while. For a trainee doctor, how hard could that be?
‘We’ll let you rest,’ Sam said after a few seconds, checking the monitor hanging above her head. ‘By the way…’ He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to her. ‘Does this mean anything?’
Martha stared at the paper. It was the sheet that had been on the clipboard earlier, the one with her medical notes. But now, scrawled all over it, was a picture. For a moment it made no sense; but then her mind clicked into place – and it all came flooding back…
Martha lashed out at Carolina and the doctor with her fists. She screamed a deep, animalistic howl, kicking off the sheets and staggering to her feet. The two of them backed away, terrified at the change that had come over the girl. Her eyes blazing, spittle flying from her lips, Martha raised her hands like claws, and advanced towards them.
SEVEN
‘Well, well, well… what have we here…?’ The Doctor, Ty and Orlo crawled over the peak of the hill and peered down the slope to where the river narrowed. Swarming around the site of the dam that was blocking the flood’s retreat, splashing in and out of the water, were hundreds and hundreds of otters. Ty wondered whether the Doctor’s desire for a new otter was just crazy talk, or whether there was some sort of method in his madness.
‘It’s incredible,’ whispered Ty. In all her months of studying the otters, she’d never seen so many of them in one place. ‘I had no idea they were so social.’ She shook her head, realising that she’d have to ditch half the notes she’d made for her grand textbook on the creatures.
‘Organised, yes,’ muttered the Doctor. ‘Not so sure about social, though.’
‘But look!’
‘I know, I know – but don’t you think there’s something a bit odd about it. A bit manic. A bit forced.’
Ty looked again. She could see what he meant. The frenzy with which the otters were diving in and out of the water, carrying little pats of mud in their paws and slapping them onto the dozens of dark grey piles along the banks, was almost comical.
‘You don’t think this is natural?’
‘Spot on. There’s something very unnatural about this whole thing.’ He rolled onto his side and faced Orlo.
‘So you’re up for catching us another of those little fellers?’
Orlo grinned.
‘Good lad. Come on!’
Ty huffed herself to her knees and watched as the Doctor, equipped only with his jacket, and Orlo, carrying a sack, set off cautiously down the slope. She watched as the Doctor and Orlo split up and started a pincer movement on one of the mud piles. From where she squatted, she could see everything, and it was clear that the two men were trying to keep the pile between them and the otters. The Doctor nodded to Orlo as yet another otter splashed up onto the bank and, bouncing along on its hind legs, headed towards the pile with a great big glob of mud in its paws. A steady but growing trickle of water spilled over the top of the dam, back towards the sea.
Orlo might have been a big lad, Ty thought, but he couldn’t half move fast when he had to. Holding the sack out in front of him, he headed down the slope, slipping behind the otter to cut it off from the rest. A couple of the others threw him a glance, and Ty half-expected them to raise the alarm. But surprisingly, they finished slopping their mud onto the ground, dropped to all fours, and simply scampered back down to the water, vanishing into it with brief, silver flashes.
Now Orlo was in position between the otter and the river. The little creature paused and turned. When it saw Orlo, it cocked its head on one side, clearly unsure what to do.
The Doctor crept out from behind the mud pile, his coat held out in front of him. He must have made a noise, because the otter suddenly turned its head. Ty could almost see the puzzlement – and then the panic – in its eyes. With a sudden amazing turn of speed, it darted to one side of Orlo. But Orlo was quick. He sidestepped and lunged for the creature. The otter was confused and stopped sharply before backing up, casting nervous looks over its shoulder at the advancing Doctor. Ty felt her heart pounding: she never thought that she’d be quite so excited at the sight of two grown men trying to catch a small animal. A twinge of guilt struck her. All her life she’d been a champion of animal rights, and the decision to go into zoology had been part of that – an attempt to understand the animal world, and to bring that understanding to a wider public. The idea of getting even a tiny bit excited over two men chasing a small (if not quite defenceless) alien otter with only a jacket and a sack would once upon a time have appalled her. Was she just getting old, or was she becoming more pragmatic?
The Doctor feinted left and, as the otter slipped to the right, he threw himself towards it, arms and jacket outstretched – and missed by a mile. The otter – clearly deciding that he’d be better off racing uphill and around the two sweating humans – bounded away, galloping as fast as its little paws would carry it.
Orlo staggered after it, sack raised, as the Doctor rolled along the ground, recovered spectacularly, and sprang to his feet. His eyes wide and crazy, he chased up the hill, hot on the heels of the otter.
‘This is madness!’ cried Ty with an exasperated sigh and stood up, in plain view of the little creature. It scrabbled to a halt, its paws digging into the soft mud and coarse grass. With a shake of her head, Ty reached into her pocket, pulled out a tranq-gun, and shot the otter in the shoulder.
Two seconds later, it gave a little wheeze and toppled over.
The Doctor heaved himself to his feet, looking even more mud-spattered than he had done the previous night, and fixed Ty with a stunned glare.
‘You had that in your pocket all along?’ he growled. ‘That.’ He jabbed a finger at the tranq-gun, still in her hand. ‘That!’
‘Well you didn’t think I’d come out here unarmed after everything that’s happened, did you?’
‘And you didn’t think to use it earlier?’ He shook droplets of mud from his jacket – and Ty suspected that they weren’t landing on her totally by accident. ‘Have you any idea how hard it is to find a good dry-cleaner in this part of the galaxy?’ He held the jacket out at arm’s length and stared at it sadly. ‘Ruined,’ he announced. ‘Ruined!’
‘Oh come on!’ laughed Ty, pocketing the gun. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that?’
The Doctor narrowed his eyes at her, but said nothing. Orlo came panting up, the tranquillised otter cradled in his arms. Asleep, Ty thought, it looked as sweet and friendly as they always did – possibly because its mouth was shut and its claws were she
athed.
‘Let’s get this into the cage and back to the lab,’ the Doctor said, with sudden briskness.
‘Why the hurry?’ asked Orlo.
‘Welllll,’ drawled the Doctor. ‘For one thing, I want to see how quickly its intelligence develops. And two…’ He peered at something over Ty and Orlo’s shoulders, down the slope.
They turned – to see a carpet of writhing, wriggling brown bodies, flashing silver where the sunlight reflected from their still-wet fur, making its way up the bank from the river. Towards them.
Ty looked back at the Doctor. He raised an eyebrow.
‘How’s that for two?’
The three of them ran like they’d never run before – or at least like Ty had never run before.
Puffing and panting, her feet slipping on the muddy grass, she got the impression that the Doctor was holding himself back for her and Orlo’s sakes. He’d snatched the otter from the boy to make it a bit easier for him, and didn’t even break his stride.
‘Grab my jacket!’ he said as they ran along the slope, parallel to the river – the quickest way back to the settlement. Ahead of them, down along the edge of the water, Ty could see the remains of the old city, poking through like a misshapen skeleton. The level had dropped even further in the last hour and a half hour.
She grabbed the jacket from where it was hooked over the crook of his arm.
‘Inside pocket,’ he said. ‘Other one – that’s it. No, not that!’ Ty had pulled out the black wallet with his mysteriously versatile business card. ‘Not unless you think I can persuade them that I’m Doctor Dolittle.’
‘Dolittle?’ puffed Ty. ‘Is that your name?’
The Doctor ignored her question. ‘The other pocket, Ty!’ He glanced back at the swarm of otters, galloping after them. ‘The other one!’
With the jacket flailing around in her hands as she ran, she managed to reach in and pull out the first thing she found: the torch that he’d used on the creature in the otter nest.
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