Boiled’s aim faltered as he was hit, and his bullet slammed into the side of the silver egg, causing an impressive but ineffectual explosion of sparks.
Emotions bubbled up inside Balot, and that very moment Oeufcoque cried out in her hands, “Quickly…to the Doctor!”
Balot snapped upright. Her feelings of wanting to attack Boiled evaporated in an instant, and all she could now think of was obeying Oeufcoque’s words.
Boiled watched with dusky eyes as Balot ran toward the giant silver egg, ignoring the pain that wracked her body. He peeled the gun out of his injured right hand, checked that the grip of the gun hadn’t been hit, and lifted it with his other hand.
“Why… Oeufcoque?” Boiled muttered the same words over and over as he fired at Balot.
Balot read his movements precisely and fired back at him. And the Doctor let rip with his rifle at the same time. None of the bullets found their target.
Boiled retreated a step. Balot ran faster toward the silver egg. She thought she heard the crack of another rifle shot, and then the Doctor was hauling her up into the egg.
“Get in and stay inside!” the Doctor shouted, and there were more rifle shots in quick succession.
Without warning the egg started rising. Noiselessly and so smoothly that she didn’t even feel the sensation of her body being lifted. All she noticed was the ground moving farther and farther away as she looked on.
Its Gravity Device Engine was evidently a powerful one, as they were up in the air in no time.
“Head as far inside as you can! If you’re near the shell wall then your blood will start moving around. If your eyes start blurring then you’ll need to lie down. Now, I’m just going to close the shell wall back up and—”
The Doctor stopped shouting. There was a
There were steady, rhythmic footsteps.
The Doctor’s expression changed, and he moved toward the entrance, readying his rifle.
Boiled appeared. Revolver in hand, he peered down at the Doctor. He was standing on the wall at a right angle, bisecting the entrance, a perpendicular line, muzzle pointed at the Doctor. At his feet, the wall closed back into place, as if it were mending a broken shell.
“Give it up, Boiled. In a few seconds we’ll be at too high an altitude for you to use your abilities,” the Doctor warned, almost as if he were giving him a lecture. “And I don’t particularly want to get into a shootout with you.”
But there was no reasoning with Boiled, who just raised his gun.
“Why did Oeufcoque leave me?”
Still pointing the rifle at Boiled, the Doctor’s face now showed a trace of doubt. “You were the one who left him.”
Then Boiled leapt, brandishing his gun.
“Stop it! Do you really want to be outlawed from the Commonwealth?” the Doctor shouted, but the blast from his rifle drowned the last part out. The rifle round didn’t even scratch Boiled, and Boiled punched the Doctor’s slender body, smashing him into the wall.
Having rushed into the egg, Boiled
And that was the moment. Rather than heading inside, Balot had been sitting there on the floor, waiting for the perfect shot.
Her gun was red. Blood was squelching out of the barrel.
The barrel vibrated. A red object came pounding out. The barrel spat fire, over and over, and even though Boiled managed to cover his vital organs, the bullets all found their mark, whether on his arms or his body.
A ghostly scream surged forth from Boiled’s mouth. He’d been too slow to deflect the bullets. As impressive a figure as Boiled was, he was thrown backward. He scrambled for purchase on the egg, but his feet wouldn’t reach. He tried to grab hold of the edge of the entrance with his right hand, but the blood flowing from the wound that Balot had inflicted caused him to slip, losing his grip, and he hurtled into space.
Boiled’s scream was already tailing off into the distance when the wall closed, cutting him off completely.
Everything was quiet. Silent, just like the interior of a high-class AirCar.
Balot kept her gun trained on the shell wall. She could no longer lift a finger. Her eyes stared at something. Bloody fingerprints—left by Boiled when he frantically tried to find something to hold on to as he was blown away.
Liquid of the same color dripped down from the end of her gun and stained the carpet.
Red droplets ran from the gun down her wrist, dripping from her elbow.
The Doctor put his rifle down and knelt down at Balot’s side. He looked nervous.
“Is Oeufcoque injured?”
Balot’s gaze slowly moved from the wall and toward the Doctor, and she nodded.
Her hands still gripped the gun.
“What about you? You’ve cut your forehead, I see. Anywhere else?”
In a daze, Balot shook her head. She became aware of her surroundings.
The room they were in was like a villa in a holiday resort. A tall ceiling, with a staircase heading up to rooms with windows looking out onto a veranda lobby. Chairs were scattered around a chic table, and the whole place was furnished luxuriously.
