Free Silhouette by Justin Richards Page A

For a moment, the swirling mass of paper was above them, confused and disoriented at the loss of its prey. A moment in which Strax hurled something small, round and metallic into the swarming birds. It exploded, a brilliant white light bursting out. Paper burst into flames, and fell smoking to the ground. The air was suddenly alivewith sparks and fire. Several of the birds fluttered away, fire eating through their wings and bodies until they collapsed to the ground, blackened and charred.
    ‘An incendiary pod,’ Strax explained, lifting Clara to her feet. ‘You all right, boy?’
    Clara sat on the remains of a wooden crate in the corner of the factory. Strax had produced a battlefield first-aid kit, which included some antiseptic wipes. They stung but Strax assured her they would hasten the healing process as well as sterilising her cuts and scratches.
    ‘You got anything else useful in there?’ Clara asked.
    ‘Field dressings. Self-assembly inflatable replacement limbs. Spare ammunition, of course. Emergency rations. I even have some dehydrated water,’ he added proudly.
    ‘How does that work?’
    ‘You just add water, and …’ Strax frowned. ‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Maybe it’s not as useful as I thought.’
    ‘Thank you, Strax.’
    ‘For the water?’
    ‘For being here and for saving my life. What were those things? They looked like the origami birds we found.’
    ‘Drones,’ Strax decided. ‘Programmed to follow a simple instruction set and devoid of any built-in weaponry. Primitive, but effective.’
    Clara smiled. It hurt. ‘So why were you here, anyway? Were you looking for me? Following me?’
    ‘I was engaged on investigation and reconnaissance. An information-gathering mission. This is the area where Mr Bellamy died.’
    ‘Right,’ Clara said slowly. ‘Ah, was he the man who was murdered? Jenny said you were investigating the death of a friend.’
    ‘There have been several deaths,’ Strax told her. ‘Unexplained but similar. But what brings you here?’
    ‘Oh we were following someone from the Frost Fair. Guy called Milton – you know him?’
    Strax shook his head, most of his upper body turning with it. ‘A target for surveillance?’
    ‘Yes. And he owns this place, apparently. Not that he’s doing much with it.’
    ‘Apart from setting traps. This was an ambush.’
    ‘You think he knew I was coming?’
    Strax considered. ‘It may be a defence mechanism. Not targeted at an individual, but a simple blanket deterrent. This Frost Fair …’
    ‘What of it?’
    ‘Bellamy said he had visited such a place. The night he died. He also spoke of a Curious Carnivore.’
    ‘The Carnival of Curiosities?’
    ‘As I said.’
    ‘Another coincidence,’ Clara said. ‘Or not.’ She got to her feet. Her head was swimming but she wasfeeling a lot better now. Her face and hands were stinging less already. ‘We should find the Doctor and tell him what’s happened here. And about your friend Bellamy.’
    ‘You sense a connection?’
    ‘And then some. Come on.’
    The dusty light from the high windows cast foreshortened shadows of Strax and Clara across the factory floor as they made their way back to the doors that Strax had smashed open.
    ‘We’ll tell the Doctor and Vastra about the keypad on the other doors too,’ Clara said as they left. ‘Agreed,’ Strax said, following. ‘What keypad?’
    As they moved out of the factory, Clara’s shadow hesitated on the threshold. It waited until she and Strax had gone, then moved quickly back the way it had come. Up the wall, to the window, and then through and down the side of the building – a dark silhouette against the pale light on the outer brickwork …
    The shadow crept up the side of a carriage waiting at the end of Alberneath Avenue. It slipped in through the carriage window. Inside, Orestes Milton leaned forward, hands clasped over the silver top of his cane, chin resting on the hands. He watched the shadow on the seat opposite for