Doctor Who: Remembrance of the Daleks by Ben Aaronovitch, Nicholas Briggs, Terry Molloy Read Free Book Online Page B
back. A deep thrumming filled the room.
The Doctor pulled the baseball bat from concealment.
‘Now,’ he said, holding it carefully over the yawning casket, ‘let’s see what you can make of this.’ He let go of the bat and watched as it slowly descended into the blazing white heart of the radiance.
Somebody was knocking on her door.
Ace sat up, struggling to untangle her legs from the sheets. ‘Come in.’
Mike stuck his head round the door.
‘Good morning,’ he said.
Ace could smell bacon sandwich.
‘Good morning,’ said Ace. Carefully holding the blanket above chest level, she fumbled in her rucksack for a clean T-shirt.
Mike pushed open the door and stepped into the room.
His eyes never left her as he took a bite from the bacon sandwich in his right hand. Ace wondered what he was staring at.
You know what he is staring at, said a voice in her head.
Ace hiked up the blanket a bit more.
‘Did you make a sandwich for me?’
Mike moved closer.
‘What do you want?’ he said. ‘Breakfast in bed?’
‘Why not? Isn’t this a bed and breakfast?’
He was standing by the bed now, looking down at her.
There was a sudden intensity in his eyes. Ace sensed that he wanted to say something.
Mike offered her the bacon sandwich instead.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
Her hand touched his as she took the sandwich; his skin was warm and rough. Ace took a bite of the sandwich and offered it back to him. Mike shook his head.
‘Keep it,’ he said. ‘I have to be off.’
‘Where are you going?’
Mike turned at the doorway. ‘I have to check some things at the Association.’
‘Oh,’ said Ace, not really interested.
Mike smiled again and said goodbye. Ace watched him go, thoughtfully munching on the sandwich. She couldn’t understand just why she was interested in him; he wasn’t that good looking, except maybe for his face.
She suddenly realized that fat had dripped on to one of the blankets; she wondered whether Mrs Smith would notice.
The device played with the toy. Insinuating parts of itself into the aluminium core, it played with the lattice of atoms, arranging them into convoluted patterns. As careful as a watchmaker, as gleeful as a three-year-old, the device stripped away the polymer chains of the covering and then relaid them in interesting new ways. Within moments the baseball bat became a room-temperature superconductor.
Then, drawing on the latent heat in the surrounding atmosphere, the device poured energy into the bat. The ambient temperature in the room full by one degree centigrade; a wafer-thin layer of ice formed on the casket’s skin.
‘Come on,’ said the Doctor, ‘give it up.’
The casket spat out the baseball bat. The Doctor snatched it out of the air and twirled it a bit before examining it. ‘Good boy,’ he commended. ‘Now close.’
The lid closed with a whumph! of seals. The Doctor walked to the door and pulled it open. ‘All right,’ he said,
‘follow me.’
Without any fuss or sound the casket levitated and floated after him.
In the corridor Martin was on the telephone.
‘Gov’nor, somebody’s come to collect that big casket.
Yes... the Doctor. One thing, I thought you said he was an old geezer with white hair.’
The Doctor walked past him and doffed his hat.
‘Goodbye, Doctor,’ said Martin. ‘What about your...’
The casket floated past him with nothing at all holding it up. Martin took one long look and fainted.
6
Saturday, 07:31
The Reverend Parkinson could feel the crunch of gravel under his feet, and smell the mown grass of the graveyard and the sharp tang of newly turned earth and wet leaves.
Over the distant rumble of traffic he could hear the morning birds singing. All these were familiar gifts from God, compensations for having his sight taken away in the mud at Verdun.
He had been a captain, one of the many Oxford graduates who enlisted in 1914. They were the cream of a generation: winning battles on the playing fields
The Doctor pulled the baseball bat from concealment.
‘Now,’ he said, holding it carefully over the yawning casket, ‘let’s see what you can make of this.’ He let go of the bat and watched as it slowly descended into the blazing white heart of the radiance.
Somebody was knocking on her door.
Ace sat up, struggling to untangle her legs from the sheets. ‘Come in.’
Mike stuck his head round the door.
‘Good morning,’ he said.
Ace could smell bacon sandwich.
‘Good morning,’ said Ace. Carefully holding the blanket above chest level, she fumbled in her rucksack for a clean T-shirt.
Mike pushed open the door and stepped into the room.
His eyes never left her as he took a bite from the bacon sandwich in his right hand. Ace wondered what he was staring at.
You know what he is staring at, said a voice in her head.
Ace hiked up the blanket a bit more.
‘Did you make a sandwich for me?’
Mike moved closer.
‘What do you want?’ he said. ‘Breakfast in bed?’
‘Why not? Isn’t this a bed and breakfast?’
He was standing by the bed now, looking down at her.
There was a sudden intensity in his eyes. Ace sensed that he wanted to say something.
Mike offered her the bacon sandwich instead.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
Her hand touched his as she took the sandwich; his skin was warm and rough. Ace took a bite of the sandwich and offered it back to him. Mike shook his head.
‘Keep it,’ he said. ‘I have to be off.’
‘Where are you going?’
Mike turned at the doorway. ‘I have to check some things at the Association.’
‘Oh,’ said Ace, not really interested.
Mike smiled again and said goodbye. Ace watched him go, thoughtfully munching on the sandwich. She couldn’t understand just why she was interested in him; he wasn’t that good looking, except maybe for his face.
She suddenly realized that fat had dripped on to one of the blankets; she wondered whether Mrs Smith would notice.
The device played with the toy. Insinuating parts of itself into the aluminium core, it played with the lattice of atoms, arranging them into convoluted patterns. As careful as a watchmaker, as gleeful as a three-year-old, the device stripped away the polymer chains of the covering and then relaid them in interesting new ways. Within moments the baseball bat became a room-temperature superconductor.
Then, drawing on the latent heat in the surrounding atmosphere, the device poured energy into the bat. The ambient temperature in the room full by one degree centigrade; a wafer-thin layer of ice formed on the casket’s skin.
‘Come on,’ said the Doctor, ‘give it up.’
The casket spat out the baseball bat. The Doctor snatched it out of the air and twirled it a bit before examining it. ‘Good boy,’ he commended. ‘Now close.’
The lid closed with a whumph! of seals. The Doctor walked to the door and pulled it open. ‘All right,’ he said,
‘follow me.’
Without any fuss or sound the casket levitated and floated after him.
In the corridor Martin was on the telephone.
‘Gov’nor, somebody’s come to collect that big casket.
Yes... the Doctor. One thing, I thought you said he was an old geezer with white hair.’
The Doctor walked past him and doffed his hat.
‘Goodbye, Doctor,’ said Martin. ‘What about your...’
The casket floated past him with nothing at all holding it up. Martin took one long look and fainted.
6
Saturday, 07:31
The Reverend Parkinson could feel the crunch of gravel under his feet, and smell the mown grass of the graveyard and the sharp tang of newly turned earth and wet leaves.
Over the distant rumble of traffic he could hear the morning birds singing. All these were familiar gifts from God, compensations for having his sight taken away in the mud at Verdun.
He had been a captain, one of the many Oxford graduates who enlisted in 1914. They were the cream of a generation: winning battles on the playing fields
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