The Silver Stream

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Laughter echoed down the streets.  Click-clack! clickety-clack! of heels over the path.  The merriment came from two scantily dressed young women already clinging onto each other for support as they staggered down to the next club.  Friday night sounds of drunken shouting and laughter filled Oxford City Centre.  

One of the two young women suddenly complained of pain.  Her heel had caught in a gap on the paving and twisted her ankle.

“You alright, Cath?” one asked.

“Yeah, Paula.” Cath lied through her wince.  She was not okay, but in this club were the boys from Oxford, and she wanted to get one of the posh boys.  “Fine!”

“Nah, you’re not.  I can hear the pain.”

Cath stared up, her eyes showing the full truth.  “Yeah, alright.  Twisted me ankle ain’t I!”

The yellow glow of the street light bathed the young woman in the spotlight.  Her friend stayed in the shadows.

Cath looked beyond trying to focus on the background as she saw a small gleam of light in the darkness: “Paula, you got a pervy lookin’ bloke behind ya!”

Paula turned round to see a rather non-descript guy in a brown overall.  “Look, middle-aged balding men ain’t my style.”

The man did not answer just continued to stare.  The girls tutted and Paula was just about to help Cath but, suddenly, the man made a grab for her wrist.  Cath stood helpless as she watched Paula fall faint on the floor.

“‘Ere, what d’ya think you’re doin?”

Before she could scream she felt a cold metallic arm go round her neck.  Cath’s scream froze in her throat as she was knocked unconscious.  

No one came to help.  A young man stepped out of the shadows.  “Well done,” he said.  “I hope Stream likes the specimens I brought him!”

He had no qualms.  They were a couple of tarts that had no class, no style and no taste. Shrugging his shoulders as he also thought, no loss! Smiling he beckoned the droids back to the alley dragging their latest victims with them.  Some really drunk people would swear the morning after that aliens had landed... of course, no one believed them.

2

The Dean wished, just for once, to have a quiet life.  This job was stressful enough as it was without having to see some woman in his office.  There would have been no problem if she was a parent of one of the student’s but... and the very moment he walked in his office he found her in his chair.  HIS chair! Like she owned the place. She was quite handsome he supposed.  Blond hair.  Blue eyes.  Definitely had an authoritative air about her. One of those women that would put his life in disarray.  In short, the sort of woman that turned him off marriage.

“Hello,” she greeted with a smile offering her hand. “Kate Stewart.  I head an organisation called UNIT!”

“UNIT?” the Dean asked.  He had not had his second cup of coffee yet.

“UNIT.  Uniformed Nations Intelligence Taskforce,” she dropped her hand when she realised he was not going to shake.  “Listen, there have been some odd goings on here.  Missing Students, yes, but when parents start to go missing... Alarm bells ring,” she tapped the side of the head: “In here!”

The Dean wished he had stayed in bed.  “Again,” he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose trying to think of something sensible and eloquent to say but all he could come out with was: “WHAT?”

Kate put her hands in her jacket pocket as she walked around the desk.  Circling her foot in the rug whilst collecting her thoughts.  The Dean went behind his desk and sat in his chair to own it again.  That was better!