Buccaneer Chronicles

The Buccaneer Chronicles:

Written by Tony Gallichan. Plot by Karen Dunn and Tony Gallichan

Chapter Nine - Small Bushes With Very Sharp Thorns


Caroline Saracin couldn't sleep. Thoughts kept racing through her head. Thoughts of La Hougue Bie. Thoughts of how she had to succeed with the redevelopment plan. Thoughts of Mark La Plan that set her pulse racing and not with desire. Anger, yes. Hatred, yes. Nothing more. Eventually she gave up trying to sleep. Wrapping a robe around her she walked into the lounge of her spacious house. That was one of the perks of the job, a large house overlooking St. Ouen's bay. Looking out of the windows during the day, she could see the length of the bay, all the way to L'Etaq. Suddenly decisive she grabbed the phone. If she was awake then she could see no reason why William shouldn't be also. Anyway, she had instructions for him.


It was going to be a beautiful day, thought Blanche. The sunrise was simply one of the best that she had ever seen - on any planet. She turned away from admiring the sky and walked back to where Macfadyan lay unconscious. The Time Lord was sprawled next to the standing stones; Cre'at and the rather dishy UNIT officer were respectively hovering over and sitting next to him. He had been out for hours now and though she would never tell him, she was starting to get worried. The last time he had woken up shortly after collapsing but this time was different. He was twitching and muttering things like:

"I'm going to be the saviour of the cosmos!" and "I am not him!"

Whatever was going on in that head of his, she really did NOT want to know. And as for all that stuff about "beans", well, she had decided to start praying for a world-class psychiatrist. Or should that be out of this world? She chuckled to herself.

"Oh that's just typical. I should have known you'd have found this funny." Macfadyan opened his eyes.

* You are undamaged? *

"Yes. Yes, I think so. That was... intense; I think should be the word. And Interesting might be the next word I'd use."

"Would you care to explain what happened?" said Curtis. "I thought that Time Lords were sturdier than this. I didn't expect them to faint at the sight of a bit of blood."

"Faint? Blood? What the...?" Macfadyan struggled to his feet. "I did not faint!" There was a snigger behind him. He gave Blanche a glare then turned back to Curtis.

"What I just experienced, child, was a telepathic contact. A contact of the most unusual kind. It seemed to be a temporal contact. Quite unusual." He moved off, muttering to himself.

" 'Child'?" said Colin.

"Oh ignore him. He just likes to feel superior." replied Blanche.

* He is superior to most life forms, Blanche. He is a Time Lord. * Said Cre'at, matter of factly.

"Hah! You might like to think that, but I don't. And who does he think he is, rubbing it in at every opportunity?"

* He is Lord Macfadyanago... * Cre'at didn't get the chance to finish his sentence. No way was Blanche going to get involved in one of Cre'at's literal conversations.

"Yeah, yeah. We know, Cre'at. He doesn't let us forget."

Curtis' radio crackled into life. He listened to it for a minute, sighed, replied then put it away.

"Macfadyan?" he called.

"That's Lord Macfadyan to you, human." came the reply.

Curtis marched over to Macfadyan, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away from the others.

"Listen, Time Lord, I don't have the patience for your attitude. People are dying here. Try caring." Macfadyan opened his mouth to protest but wasn't given the chance to get a word out.

"We've just had my office on the radio. Three bodies were just found at Fort Regent. Now, either get your head out of your arse and help us before anyone else dies, or get the hell off my planet!"

Macfadyan looked at Curtis for a second. Then he turned and started walking towards the car.

"C'mon, human, I believe you have bodies to look at."

Resisting the urge to just shoot the man down where he stood, Curtis followed him.


Once again, Macfadyan seemed to sleep during the car journey. But not for long.

"Are we going anywhere near that La Plan fellow's house?" he asked.

"Yes." said Curtis.

"Well, would you mind dropping us off there? I have a feeling that his local knowledge and his understanding of this island's history may be of some use."

"Very well."

The rest of the journey was spent in silence. Even Blanche was quiet, the oppressive atmosphere quelling any curiosity she had.

Curtis dropped them at a small cottage in St. Saviour's, then drove off, the car tyres squealing in protest. Macfadyan brushed himself down, warned the other two to let him do the talking, and then marched up to the front door.


In the bushes across the road, William Small watched and sighed. He would have to wait. Once La Plan was alone then William could act. And when he did...


Ghostwalker: Chapter Ten