Doctor Who: Ultimate Treasure (17 page)

Soon they were climbing through the mist. There was no sign of the ground or sky, which perhaps made the climb more tolerable, since it was easy to believe it was comfortingly just out of sight below them, and not hundreds of metres. Falstaff protested every so often, and convinced Thorrin that they should take five minutes' break after fifteen minutes of climbing. They all sat on the steps and massaged their aching calves gratefully. However, it was evident that Thorrin and the Marquis begrudged every second they were not advancing towards their goal, and once again Thorrin started them upward precisely on time.

They climbed on and on. After another fifteen minutes they took a second break. There was no lightening of the mist to show they were nearing the top. Myra could see Thorrin and the Marquis, who were leading, trying to step faster. She looked at her watch, made a swift mental calculation, then called out,

'Hold it. Stop. There's something wrong.' They halted, strung out on the steps above and below her, and turned puzzled faces in her direction.

'What's the matter, Inspector?'Thorrin said briskly.

'You know what's the matter. We should have reached the top by now.'

'We shall any minute, as long as you do not delay us any further.'

'But we should've reached the top at least ten minutes ago.'

'Nonsense. It's just a little further.'

'Excuse me, Professor,' said Brockwell hesitantly, 'but I think the inspector's right. I was beginning to wonder myself.'

'You're just letting the conditions confuse you,' the Marquis interjected. 'It's this mist that's doing it.'

'No, Uncle,' said Arnella unhappily, 'it's more than that.'

The Marquis glowered at her as though disappointed. Thorrin said impatiently, 'We cannot be sure how long the ascent will take because we do not know for certain how high this cliff is.'

'But we can make a good estimate,' Myra insisted. 'When we looked across the valley from the other side the top seemed about level with us, right?'

'Agreed,' Thorrin said curtly.

'The terraces couldn't have been more than a hundred and fifty metres deep in all. From there the land sloped gently all the way down to the lake, so over that distance say it added another three hundred metres at the most. Even adding on another fifty for error, this cliff can't be more than five hundred high.'

'So. We have simply to go a little further.'

'I noted when we started up. Excluding the breaks, we've been climbing for almost forty-five minutes. I reckon there are about four steps to the vertical metre. At an average pace of one step per second, which is what we've been doing, we should have already climbed six hundred and seventy-five metres. So where's the top?'

Her calculations were unarguable, she knew, but logic and reason were not the only factors at work here. Thorrin and the Marquis simply didn't want to accept that there might be another obstacle in their way.

'We'll go on for another five minutes,' Thorrin said.

They climbed on. The mist grew no thinner, nor was there any sign of the interminable stairway ending. When the time was up, Thorrin stood with fists clenched, staring up at the ever-receding mist, the rock wall, and the stairs.

'This is intolerable,' exclaimed the Marquis, his frustration boiling over. 'What's happening,Thorrin?'

'Some trick of the natives, I imagine,' Thorrin said, evidently fighting to keep his voice level, then added an admission that must have cost him considerable self-esteem: 'I simply don't know.'

'It's like being in a dream, where you run and run but don't get anywhere. It's... a little frightening, 'Arnella admitted with unexpected candour.

'I've had those sorts of dreams to,' Brockwell said quietly.

'Well I have a dream about wine and brace of capon, a warm fire to chase the ague from the bones, and a feather mattress,'

grunted Falstaff. But I'll be content with rations and a rock bed so long as it is level. Let us descend while there is still light, lest we spend a night on this perilous perpendicularity. We may renew our assault on this bewitched mount on the morrow when we are rested.'

The suggestion was so sensible that even Thorrin and the Marquis did not object. So they turned about and set off back down the stairs.

Automatically Myra took note of their rate of descent. She estimated they were going a third faster than they had ascended.

Thirty-five minutes to go, then. No one requested a break. All they wanted was to be off the stairs and to feel solid ground under them. Myra began to appreciate how vulnerable they were

- exposed upon the narrow stair slanting up the unending cliff.

Anything could be out there in the mist. They had seen no flying creatures in the valley, but how did then know there weren't any? Could they fight a battle in such a place? What if there was an avalanche? There was no shelter sand they'd be swept away.

She tried to go faster and almost fell, flicking her tail out to maintain her balance. Steady, steady, she told herself. You don't want to go down that quickly.

The stairs rolled up at them, materialising out of the mist.

Down, down. She checked the time: thirty minutes. More stairs.

Everybody must have been suffering terrible pains in their legs, but nobody complained. Down further. Surely they should be able to hear the waterfalls on the lake by now. 'Thirty five-minutes... forty... No, not again!

They stumbled to a stop and collapsed sprawling on the steps, panting to regain their breath, legs cramped and trembling. Myra saw their frightened, incredulous expressions, and heard Arnella sobbing aloud:

'We'll never get down, never! We're trapped!'

Dynes frowned at the image of Thorrin's party relayed from his drone, floating in the mist a few metres away from the cliff Wall.

What was going on there? He checked the DAVE'S current telemetry readings, then called up its log and reviewed the inertial guidance chart. Gradually a smile began to spread across his face, then he chuckled. Now this had comic potential if presented properly. The D and E illits and vid-junkies would love seeing a party of their social betters making fools of themselves if the trick was carefully explained to them first.

He checked the other DAVE that was following Qwaid, Drorgon, and the Doctor across the lake. Their journey was entirely too easy, without any sign of a bloody attack by sea monsters. That Doctor was too clever by half. Still, maybe he'd get trapped like Thorrin to make up for it. And he had got some high-quality action shots earlier, especially Inspector Jaharnus's bit of lifesaving.

He checked another monitor and reached for his hat.

It was drawing in towards evening as they entered the open glade in which the
Falcon
had set down. Dynes was waiting for them, a DAVE unit hovering beside him. Of course, Gribbs thought, he knew exactly when we'd be arriving from the drone that had been trailing them. But why had he bothered to turn up in person?

Didn't his drone cameras give him everything he needed? He recalled that they had recorded his humiliating misfortune in the wood the day before, and decided he was not going to make a fool of himself a second time, even for someone as famous as Dynes.

'Mr Gribbs, Ms Brown. I want exclusive interviews with both of you,' said the pressman briskly, coming straight to the point.

'Naturally that means a bonus on top of the standard rate.'

The girl's expression changed to one of astonishment, as though she couldn't believe her ears, while Gribbs felt a thrill of excitement, which dispelled his earlier misgivings in an instant.

Dexel Dynes wanted to interview him in person one to one!

'You mean like the one you did for Marrak Theel during the Cavandar Bank siege?' Gribbs asked hesitantly, just to be certain.

'Just that sort of thing,' Dynes said encouragingly. 'Captor and hostage, personal tensions, a taste of fear. Always goes down well with the viewers.'

'Theel came over as a real hard pro, didn't he? Then the cops gunned him down - but he took ten of them with him. What a way to go! You handled that with real class, Dynes.'

'Just doing my job as well as I can, Mr Gribbs. Now there's no need to be nervous. You just be natural. Think of it as easy money for an hour of your time. We can do it out here or in your ship, wherever you like.'

Gribbs realised he was sounding too eager. This wasn't how a hard man should behave. 'Well, maybe we will, maybe we won't,'

he said lazily. 'I'm busy, as you can see, so you gotta make it worth while, because we're going to come away from this job well loaded. I reckon an interview with someone who's part of something that big should pay above scale.'

'Sorry, I'm only authorised to offer the standard bonus at this time. Remember, Mr Gribbs, you haven't found the treasure yet.

If it all goes wrong at least you'll come away with something to show for it. Think of it as insurance.'

Gribbs turned it over and found the argument appealing. After a moment he nodded. 'OK, you're on.'

Dynes turned to the girl, who was still gaping at him. 'And are the terms satisfactory for you, Ms Brown?'

'You're actually offering me money for an interview while he's holding me like this?' She jerked on the strap binding her wrists.

'Why not? I simply report things as they are. Surely, under the circumstances, you can see it makes sense to cooperate?'

Apparently she couldn't find suitable words to reply, and Dynes continued: 'And let me assure you that if you are unfortunate enough not to survive this highly newsworthy event, the INA will be pleased to send your fee to your next of kin or nominated charity.'

For some reason she was still looking at him in disbelief, and Gribbs began to wonder if she ever watched the news channels.

'You're crazy!' she managed to choke out at length.

'Not at all. It is my legal right and duty under interstellar convention to observe and report without prejudice, fear, or favour for the purposes of information and entertainment.'

'But can't you see what he's doing is wrong?'

'Not my position to judge, Ms Brown. If the local authorities wish to take action in this matter, that would be their privilege and I would report their actions just as fully. As they appear not to choose to intervene, why should I?'

'But your turning criminals into... into media personalities!'

Dynes shrugged. 'A very biased point of view, if I might say so.

One world's criminal is another's celebrity, and it's not for me to say if their choice is right or wrong. I just give the public what they want. It's up to them whether they approve or not, but after twenty years I think I know their tastes well enough, don't you?'

'Hey, who's in charge here, anyway?' Gribbs demanded impatiently, feeling there was too much talk going on, and giving a warning jerk to the rope fastened to Peri's wrist strap. 'She'll say her piece when the time comes if that's what you want,' he assured Dynes.

'That's fine with me, Mr, Gribbs,' Dynes said, the DAVE drones flitting about to find fresh angles as Peri tried to pull away. 'I shall assume Ms Brown waives her right to compensation by default, and will be treated henceforth as a hostile news subject.

Now, perhaps you'd like the interview to be inside your ship?'

'Yeah, maybe that would be best,'

He remembered he'd promised Qwaid he'd get the girl to the ship as soon as possible and keep her under wraps there while he waited for calls. For some reason Qwaid didn't like Dynes, and wouldn't want Gribbs associating with him like this. Still, as long as it didn't interfere with business, Gribbs couldn't see the harm, and afterwards it wouldn't matter. Besides, just suppose things didn't go to plan. Then he'd have made a smart move.

Dynes followed them into the
Falcon
with the DAVEs trailing after him.

After they had removed their packs and settled in the ship's crewroom, Dynes carefully positioned them and the two DAVEs for the interview Gribb's admiration for Dynes rose as he saw how carefully he arranged things, having the girl, to her evident displeasure, kneel beside his chair to 'help the composition'.

'You want she should be mussed up a bit to?' he asked, trying to be helpful, remembering the look of Theel's captives.

'I think Ms Brown looks suitably distressed for the moment, except perhaps... 'He reached forward and undid another button of the girl's shirt, ignoring her indignant yelp of protest, to reveal a little more cleavage. Gribbs preened himself nervously, trying to brush his straggly thinning hair straight.

'File Code: The Ultimate Treasure. Interview with George Erasmus Gribbs and Perpugilliam Brown,' Dynes said to one of the DAVEs, then turned back to them. Mr Gribbs let's start with a bit of background. Would you tell us, In our own words, why you turned to a life of crime?'

Inwardly Gribbs breathed a sigh of relief. He knew the sort answer to give to a question like that.

'Well, I had no choice, did I?' he said regretfully. 'Back on Trainor Colony if you didn't take it you got nothing...'

None of it had been his fault; he was as much a victim as those he had stolen from. It was all down to the yids, the government, his parents, unlucky breaks, but never him. It wasn't fair that others had things he did not, and how else was he going to get them? He'd been good with his hands and had a way with circuitry, but who wanted to be an ordinary repairman all his life? OK, so he hadn't been starving, but there was more to life than food and shelter, wasn't there? Hadn't he as much right to so-called 'luxuries' as anybody else? All the commercials said so.

Dynes seemed to understand perfectly and said nothing except to prompt and nod sympathetically.

'And what do you plan to do with your portion of Rovan's treasure if you recover it?' Dynes asked.

Oddly, he hadn't thought about that, except in vague terms.

But he'd feel a fool if he had nothing to say. So he dredged up every fantasy he could remember and gold-plated them. It was hard work. Dynes continued to nod attentively, but Gribbs was worried that he was becoming boring. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that the girl's head was dropping as though she was dozing. He was putting his hostage to sleep on camera!