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dear...’ he added in response to Romana’s blank expression, and
dropped abruptly out of sight.
‘What if he’s missed it?’ Unstoffe objected, dubiously eyeing
the key which Garron had just pressed into his clammy little
hand.
‘My boy, I was palming keys before you were even born,’
Garron chuckled encouragingly. ‘Anyway, he’s got a dozen like
that one.’
‘In that case, it better be the right one,’ Unstoffe retorted,
‘’cos I’m the mug who has to go down there.’
Garron squeezed his thin arm and beamed. ‘And very proud
of you I am, too,’ he said. ‘Now you’d better get going.’
At that moment another monstrous growl split the air.
Unstoffe hesitated. ‘Give it another five minutes...’ he pleaded.
‘You haven’t seen those teeth.’
Romana crouched in the darkening shadows, fuming at her
inability to fathom the Doctor’s eccentric and unpredictable
behaviour, and at her failure to keep his attention focused on
their important assignment. As she watched the activities of the
two figures by the trap, she took out the Locatormutor Core and
gripped it tightly with both hands, steeling herself to use the
sensitive instrument as a bludgeon, should the need arise.
The Doctor waited until the Shrieve picket had marched away,
and then darted down the worn steps to the lobby outside the
Relic Chamber. Cautiously he approached the huge doors,
noting as he passed that the shutter winch was in the ‘open’
position.
‘Stay where you are,’ rang a powerful voice.
The massive young Shrieve sentry was barring his way.
‘Oh... not asleep yet?’ the Doctor asked sympathetically.
‘Well, I couldn’t sleep either,’ he grinned, immediately
discarding any idea of tackling the towering figure confronting
him.
‘You are under arrest. The Curfew has sounded.’ the
Shrieve announced, his huge hands gripping the sturdy pike
shaft as if they were about to snap it like a twig.
‘Yes, I heard it. It gave me quite a headache,’ the Doctor
frowned, racking his brain for a speedy tactical move. He knew
that he had only a minute or two before Unstoffe reached the
chamber.
‘Where are you from?’ the young giant demanded. ‘The
North,’ the Doctor smiled, ‘The South...’ he went on in
desperation as the Shrieve took out a crude whistle from his belt
and put it to his lips.
‘Oh please don’t wake everybody up on my account,’ the
Doctor said earnestly, rummaging in his pockets and holding up
the little dog whistle by its silver chain. ‘This model is so much
more effective...’ he murmured, swinging it rhythmically to and
fro. ‘So much quieter... much quieter... so quiet...’ His sonorous
voice rose and fell in time with the oscillations of the tiny whistle.
The young Shrieve tried to tighten his grip on the pike as he
fought off the instant drowsiness, his eyes sweeping from side to
side and flickering at each swing of the glittering object in front
of them.
‘You must be so very sleepy...’ the Doctor suggested gently.
All at once the pike clattered onto the flagstones. The
swaying Shrieve immediately jerked his drooping head upright
again: ‘I’ve been sleep... ing all day...’ he murmured. ‘Why
should... I want... to sleep... now?’ And he lurched forward, his
huge arms poised to envelop the Doctor and crush him to pulp.
His slight frame quaking with apprehension, Unstoffe edged
past the colossal bulk of the Shrivenzale slumped on the floor of
the antechamber and ducked under the raised shutter. Crossing
to the Relic Cabinet, he quickly secured the suction cup to the
front panel and then dissolved the colourless gum he had earlier
used to reseal the panel with acid from a small bulb. After
waiting a few seconds he lifted the heavy panel out of the frame.
Then he reached and took the jethryk nugget out of the case
with sweating and trembling hands. Stuffing it into the pouch on
his belt, he began to scurry round the dark eerie chamber,
scanning the pillars for the hidden keshule. The single globe
above the cabinet gave so little light. Frantically he searched,
frequently stopping to listen to the raucous breathing of the
Shrivenzale in case the beast should stir.
At last he found the keyhole behind the pillar. ‘One million
gold opeks...’ he breathed as he unlocked and opened the stone
block and grabbed the sealed purse from the niche.
At that moment something clattered heavily against the
chamber doors outside. Instantly Unstoffe crammed the purse
into his pouch and flattened himself against the pillar...
Staring into the Shrieve’s glazed eyes, the Doctor slowly backed
away front the lumbering youth, still swinging the silver whistle
on its chain. Suddenly the huge arms closed round him in a
suffocating bear-hug and he was swept off his feet like a dummy.
But just as suddenly the Shrieve’s prodigious grip loosened. He
slid to his knees and pitched forward full length at the Doctor’s
feet.
Hugging his bruised ribs, the Doctor ran to the doors and
within seconds had opened the massive locks with his tweezers
and burst into the Relic Chamber. At once he saw that the
cabinet had been broken into and that the Jethryk was missing.
‘Too late...’ he muttered angrily, darting across to peer into
the black rectangle of space beneath the shutter.
Something flew past his back. Even as he turned he heard
the huge doors slam shut and the bar lock into place on the
other side. Furious with himself, the Doctor hammered
helplessly on the thick wooden doors. Then he heard the
piercing blasts of a whistle from the lobby outside. At the same
instant, a stentorian bellowing and shrill scrabbling sound burst
from the antechamber beyond the shutter.
In three enormous strides the Doctor crossed the Relic
Chamber and flung himself under the shutter. Frantically he
reached out in the pitch darkness to find the end of the rope
ladder which he guessed must surely be there. As he searched
with blindly groping hands, he found himself suddenly
showered with sparks as the Shrivenzale’s flashing claws slashed
through the blackness towards him...
Garron peered anxiously into the shaft as the Shrivenzale’s
enraged roars and the crash of its tail grew more and more
savage.
‘Pipped at the post...’ he muttered in despair, wringing his
hands and clutching his head. ‘What a scheme... a wasted
talent...’
Something stirring in the darkness made him pause. The
rope ladder was swaying and creaking. Garron screwed up his
eyes to see what was happening and a figure climbed rapidly
into view.
‘Unstoffe... what went wrong?’ he cried.
‘Pretty well everything...’ boomed an unexpected voice, and
the Doctor’s head popped up suddenly in the trap opening.
Instantly recovering from the shock, Garron went to release
the clips securing the ladder to the grappling hook.
‘Don’t move—we have you covered,’ the Doctor cried.
‘Who has?’ Garron laughed scornfully.
‘We have,’ Romana declared, striding across the rooftop,
brandishing the Locatormutor Core like a shillelagh as the
Doctor climbed up out of the shalt.
Garron smacked himself on the forehead. ‘I just don’t
believe it...’ he muttered, staring uncertainly at the strange
weapon in Romana’s hands. ‘Alliance Security Agents. Well I’ll
be...’
Slowly Garron got to his feet, shaking his head sadly. ‘It’s all
right.’ he murmured at last, ‘I’ll come quietly. It’s a fair cop...’
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