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[ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ] In the reflection of the mirror, the axe began to fall. There was no time to attempt to ward off the blow. Unable to make use of the manacle to defend himself, the Doctor slipped the chain into his outer pocket, surprising himself again at the weight of it as it dropped into the lining and pulled at his coat. He ducked, almost too late. He felt the passing wind of the blade tug at his sleeve as it sliced through the air. Time didn t seem to have blunted it much, although the jarring ring of the metal on stone as the axe tried to bury itself in the floor sounded like bad news for the cutting edge. The warrior seemed to be locked for a moment, and the Doctor scrambled back, taking advantage of the fact that its responses were lagging by a second or so; but it came about and started to follow. Come on, the Doctor told himself, this is the armoury. And the sagging figure over by the stairs shows that the warriors can be damaged and even destroyed something around him had to be useful. The Doctor took a step to one side, and the warrior began to circle. The Doctor was weaponless, one-handed and, by comparison, frail. But at least one of those conditions could be remedied; circle a little more, and the Doctor would be within reach of the rack of pikes. You know, he said quietly, It s obvious you re only a machine. Anything with half a brain would know it could just wade in and finish me off. Perhaps that was a mistake; something in the way the warrior turned its head slightly seemed to indicate that it had understood. But the invitation wasn t to be taken at face value anything so openly and admittedly defenceless, its dark and simple mind probably reasoned, would have to be a trap. It bought the Doctor a little more time. He reached the pikes and grabbed one, swinging it around in front of him. The axe flashed up and down, and there was a jarring that nearly popped his shoulder out of its socket. He staggered back a couple of paces; the pike had been reduced to a four-foot length of wood with a splintered end. The warrior began moving in for the kill. I don t suppose you happen to know the way out into N- space, the Doctor said hopefully, as he edged around trying to work his way towards the staircase. I ve an idea it s around here somewhere. Now! he thought, and he turned to run only to find himself confronted by a second warrior advancing towards him, also wielding a very vicious-looking axe in a far from friendly manner. The Doctor was trapped. The warriors came closer and closer, until they were a mere axe s-length away from him. At the very last minute, as the warriors prepared to deliver the coup de grâce the Doctor pushed himself away from the wall and skipped between them. Caught off balance, the warriors tried to bring their axes down on their escaping victim as he slipped through; but the weight of their weapons came inexorably down on each other, and they succeeded, more effectively than the Doctor could have hoped, in completely neutralising one another. Travelling in the void was an unnerving experience. Without the mass detector it would have been impossible. The detector had originally been designed for freighter crews to check on cargoes without having to open the holds; they simply ran the probe along the walls and got a reading of the mass concentrations beyond it. Now it served equally well as a navigation aid, although Lane was wondering if it was safe to trust it how reliable could you consider an instrument to be when it indicated that an object was larger on the inside than on the outside? Lane stayed ahead with his eyes on the instrumentation, and the others lagged behind with their eyes on him. Everybody needed something in sight to give them horizon, or else the featureless white around them would start to spin. And yet, the void wasn t total; there was a sense of up and down, and they were breathing. Even if zero co-ordinates truly meant nowhere, at least there seemed to be a faint leaking through of reality from somebody s universe. Find the source, and perhaps you d find the exit. The mists swirled and parted, and the dim bulky outline of the ship could be seen for the first time. Although the details were indistinct and hazy through the fog, they could see the nose towering high above them at an angle over a wide base; it was like looking up at a giant frog about to spring. This is it? Romana said. Considering the circumstances, it was a pointless question. But Rorvik didn t seem to mind. That s her, he said proudly. Does she have a name? Used to have. The paint came off. What is she? Passenger transport? Rorvik was about to answer, but then he seemed to change his mind. He finally said, Freighter. Low-bulk and high-value cargoes. It seemed to Romana that they went a longer way around than was necessary to reach the entrance to the loading bay, but she said nothing. The bay was a fair-sized, greasy utilitarian chamber with exposed struts that supported the curved outer wall and an open-mesh floor under which cabling could be seen. They climbed a shallow ramp to enter; Packard was the last in, and he stopped by an intercom. Party aboard, he said. Make safe the hatchway. What? came a voice from the other end of the line, totally uncomprehending. Close the door on the hold, Packard said wearily. The ramp withdrew into the ship, and the outer door lowered a huge and ominous shutter. Romana watched it; she wasn t exactly apprehensive, but when a door like that closed on you there was no mistaking that you were being shut in. [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ] |