Текст книги "Doctor Who- Legacy of the Daleks"

Автор книги: John Peel

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

12

Countdown to World’s End

Susan had never expected to see Robomen again. They were the living dead – people whose minds had been wiped of all personality and independent action, completely unrecoverable. The only thing that kept their bodies functioning was a small radio receiver in the helmets that they wore. This was a tiny computer that issued Dalek orders to them, and updated directives. Robomen were grotesque creatures, shambling, and totally loyal to the Daleks because they had no other option.

Luckily, this lack of independent thought made them marginally slower than a healthy human being.

Swiftly, Susan punched out with her right hand at the Roboman’s stomach. They weren’t allowed to feel pain, but even they had to breathe. The blow forced the air from its lungs, as Susan’s left hand grabbed the Roboman’s weapon and pushed it aside. The creature wheezed for breath. Wincing at the necessity, Susan grabbed at the Roboman’s conditioning‐helmet, and pulled it free, severing his connection to the Daleks. His eyes glazed over and he collapsed, spasming, to the floor. Susan couldn’t help feeling slightly guilty, even though she knew the Daleks had already killed the human being this pitiful shell had once been.

Jerking the gun from the dead man’s grasp, Susan moved out into the corridor. Typically, the Daleks had assumed that a single guard was sufficient for a human prisoner. Though there were Daleks constantly being produced, she had seen that this was a fairly large complex. With luck and care, she could avoid running into further trouble.

While she had been held captive in the control room, she had seen and memorised a schematic of the place. It was essentially two parallel corridors, cross‐connected several times, with a nest of short side corridors. The control room was centrally located, but she had no intention of heading for it. Her target had to be the weapon the Daleks had developed. The most important thing right now was to prevent them from activating it. And that was located in a short corridor near the entrance to the complex.

Susan hauled the body of the dead Roboman back into her cell, and closed the door from the outside, careful not to trip her own trap. If a Dalek came along to investigate, it was going to get a nasty shock…

Reaching the weapon chamber wouldn’t be easy, but she set off determined that nothing would stop her. Cradling the machine gun made her feel better, even though the chances of damaging a Dalek with it were slight. It was some form of reassurance, at the very least.

Craddock halted at the walls of New London, surveying them as the sun began to rise. It had been a long night, and a tiring one, but ultimately a very successful one. London’s troops had been chased back to their lair, and they were skulking miserably behind these walls, waiting for the inevitable. Their spirit had been broken, their leaders panicked, and their hopes shattered. Craddock felt good.

He had never learnt to enjoy combat as such, but he did love the aftereffects. The glow of victory was intoxicating, even though it might be a trifle premature. London hadn’t fallen yet, and could hold out for a while. But the battle had already really been won. The important thing now was to seize the prize before one of the other Domains scented the carcass and tried to claim some booty of its own.

One of his aides hurried up to him and saluted. ‘Sir, there’s a delegation from the city to see you. They wish to discuss surrender terms.’

Craddock raised an eyebrow. ‘Do they indeed? That’s a lot more sensible than I expected Lord London to be.’

The aide cracked a smile. ‘I gather he isn’t exactly behind this as such. One of the men is carrying his head.’

‘Ah…’ Craddock understood now. London’s men had been even more demoralised than he had expected. While it would be possible to lay siege to London and take it, it would be wasteful of lives and probably destroy a lot of useful buildings and industries. A negotiated surrender was far to be preferred. ’Well,’ he said cheerfully, let’s not keep them waiting. I don’t imagine London’s head will smell any better for a delay.’ He strode briskly off towards his victory.

Donna glanced at the Doctor, who had been fretting the whole way back to DA‐17. It wasn’t hard to understand why, if he was correct about the Daleks somehow having been reborn. She’d heard so many stories from so many people about the days Earth was ruled by the Daleks, and every one of them had made her shudder.

The only emotions they knew were rage and hatred, and they despised human beings. Donna could remember Haldoran being gentle with his children, so there was some spark of decency left in the worst of human beings. But the Daleks possessed no such thing – nor did they desire it.

If the Daleks had been resurrected, it would mean unimaginable horror.

She hugged herself as the runabouts sped towards their target. She and the Doctor were with two of Barlow’s men. She supposed that they were guards, even though they paid very little attention to either her or the Doctor. Donna tried to sort out her feelings about Barlow. At first he’d seemed little more than another professional killer. Certainly he spoke and acted about life as if it was of little importance to him. Yet, at the same time, he was clearly not the kind of man Haldoran or Downs had been. There was a coldness and a calculated air about the man, but he didn’t seem to enjoy killing. To him it was simply a necessity, a means to an end. He’d spared Haldoran’s children even when Brittany had been willing to sacrifice their lives to further her own ends. Why? They could only end up being trouble for him. Or was he simply trying to give the appearance of mercy, and aimed to murder them later anyway?

What was she to do now? According to Barlow, New London was poised to fall to his and Craddock’s combined troops, and the attack was still being pressed despite Haldoran’s death. Barlow was the heir presumptive, and Donna didn’t know how to take this. Would he be any better than Haldoran had been? He could hardly be worse, but that wasn’t a recommendation. What irritated her the most was that there was a small part of her that perversely seemed to like the man, even though he was partially responsible for the raid on London and attempting to overthrow and kill her father. It had all the air of a Greek tragedy about it. And here she was, working with him and the Doctor. It felt… odd. And, once more perversely, almost enjoyable.

The runabout came to a silent halt, and Donna could see that dawn had broken. Faint pink light illuminated the fresh landscape outside. It looked like being a glorious day, the storm having vanished overnight. It didn’t seem right. If the Daleks were rising from their graves, there ought to be lightning flashing and thunder rolling, not birds singing and a soft breeze playing.

The Doctor hopped out of the vehicle without a word and started forward. Donna and the two soldiers hurried to fall in behind him. The other runabouts drew up and disgorged their passengers. David and Barlow moved to join them.

‘There’s some kind of detection system,’ the Doctor informed them all. ‘The Master – the man you know as Estro – stole it from the Draconians a short time ago. In which case, it’ll use infrasonics.’ He had his sonic screwdriver in his hand, and made a slight adjustment to it. ‘This should set up a counterpulse that will create a null area in the shield for us to walk through.’ Then he grinned at last. ‘Theoretically!’ He marched on without stopping.

‘Let’s hope you’re right, Doctor,’ Barlow said. He was carrying what looked like an antique grenade launcher. Donna eyed it with envy, feeling naked without a weapon.

‘Where did you get that?’ she asked. ‘And how much ammo do you have for it?’

‘Museum,’ he answered briefly ‘And ten shells. It’ll blow the hell out of even a Dalek. Ten times if my aim is good. I’ve been told small‐arms fire isn’t much use against them.’

‘It doesn’t even irritate them,’ the Doctor informed them. ‘So you’re better off without a gun if you meet them. They may save you for last to kill. This way.’ He moved towards the rise looking down on DA‐17. ‘Odd that there’s no sign of guards up here, isn’t it?’

‘You’re neutralising their alarm,’ David pointed out. ‘Why would they be checking?’

‘They had better be,’ Barlow answered gruffly. ‘My men aren’t trained to rely entirely on electronics. There should be foot patrols as well. The Doctor’s right, we should have heard or seen one by now.’

‘Maybe they’ve been taken out,’ Donna suggested, wishing she didn’t have to be the one to voice what they all clearly felt.

‘We’ll soon find out,’ the Doctor announced. ‘Everybody down.’ They all crawled to finish the journey to the edge of the cutting, and they cautiously looked out at DA‐17.

Donna shuddered as the Doctor uttered the name they had lived in fear of all their lives: ‘Daleks’.

There were a dozen Daleks moving slowly around the opening to the pit. With them were armed men, all wearing bulky helmets of a style she didn’t recognise.

‘What’s going on here?’ Barlow demanded softly. ‘Those men with the Daleks are ours.’

‘Not any longer,’ the Doctor replied grimly. ‘They’ve undergone robotisation. The Daleks have drained their will and personality and replaced them with mental implants that have turned them into robotic slaves. They’re not your men or anyone’s any longer. They’re no longer human, They’re just machines that walk around and do exactly what the Daleks order, without hesitation or question.’

Donna shuddered at the thought. It was too much like the tales of zombies she’d heard as a teenager, and the idea of being an animated corpse with no knowledge of self, or of needs, scared her. It would be a mercy to kill them.

‘What are the Daleks doing, Doctor?’ David asked, trying to make sense of what they were all seeing.

‘Expanding their perimeter,’ the Doctor explained. ‘See those devices on their backs? These Daleks can’t get too far from a source of broadcast power or they die. We’re lucky that this means the vicinity of the Artefact. But they’ve seized Haldoran’s communications equipment, and they’re converting it to their own use. If they can get that to mesh with their own equipment, they’ll be able to travel as far as the horizon – and, if there are any working satellites still left in orbit, probably further. We’ve got to stop them now, before they get that operational. If they’re stuck down a hole, we might be able to contain them, but if they’re on the loose, it could be impossible.’

Barlow nodded his understanding. ‘Then our immediate target is that transmitter,’ he decided. ‘We have to take it out. My job, I think.’

‘Good man,’ the Doctor said approvingly, his grim expression softening a little. ‘But let’s get a little more planning done before you do that.’ He studied the Daleks below, his face tense. ‘It’s obvious that this super‐weapon of theirs was a trap to lure the Master into providing them with the power they needed to restore their systems. There’s obviously some sort of Dalek hatchery in there producing nasty little embryos. And there must be some sort of assembly line producing the casings and computers. Now the organic part is easy enough to obtain, but it’s got to be a lot harder for them to build their shells. Where would they be getting the metal from?’

‘Stockpiled, maybe?’ David suggested. ‘DA‐17 was one of their early constructions when they came to Earth, so they could have built up quite a reserve down there.’

‘I’m not so sure of that,’ the Doctor answered. ‘They really didn’t have the time or the resources during the invasion to mine and stock enough metals.’

Barlow had been examining his map, and he grunted, and pointed to the drawing. ‘The pit was built close to an abandoned mine, Doctor,’ he said. ‘It was shut down because raw ore wasn’t yielding much metal – using human technology.’

The Doctor grinned. ‘But Dalek technology is much more sophisticated and efficient. That could be it exactly.’ He studied the map, and gestured to a spot close to where they were. ‘Is this old entrance still accessible, do you think?’

Barlow shrugged. ‘I couldn’t say. But it might be a back door to that installation.’

‘Which is precisely what we need right now,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘We’ll have to work on the assumption that it is, and check it out. If we can get behind the Daleks, I’m sure there’s something I’ll be able to do to mess up their plans.’

‘All right, Doctor,’ Barlow agreed. ‘I presume you’d like us to wait before we strike the Daleks here.’

‘I’d appreciate that,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘The ones below in the complex are bound to try to strike back when you attack. It might give us the chance we need.’

Barlow nodded, but gestured at the work in progress. ’Very well, Doctor. But we can’t wait too long. If the Daleks get that power broadcaster up and running, they’ll be free, and I can’t chance that.’

‘Understood.’ The Doctor favoured him with a smile. ‘Good luck, Barlow.’ He looked at David and Donna. ‘I can’t ask either of you to accompany me.’

‘My wife’s down there,’ David said simply. ‘I’m not deserting her.’

‘And I was planning on taking a stroll that way anyway,’ Donna answered. Then she held her hand out to Barlow.

He glanced at it, and then at her. ‘Am I supposed to kiss it, or what?’

‘There’s another portion of my anatomy you can kiss,’ she snapped. ‘You promised me weapons if there turned out to be Daleks. And there are.’

Barlow grinned. ‘I’d gladly give you a gun, but, as the Doctor pointed out, they’re not much use against Daleks.’

‘That grenade launcher would be.’

He looked surprised. ‘Sorry, but I need it here.’ Then his face softened. He unfastened a thin belt he wore, which had a pouch attached to it. ‘The best I can do,’ he told her. ‘Hand grenades. Only three, but…’ He shrugged.

Donna nodded, and took the pouch. ‘Better than none,’ she agreed. ‘Thanks, Barlow. If we survive this, I owe you one.’

He smiled again. ‘If we don’t, you’ll still owe me one. Only it’ll be a bit harder to collect. Get out of here before I have to attack those Daleks.’

Donna fell in behind the Doctor and David as they moved back down the hill. They’d have to skirt around to find the entrance to the old mine. After that, who could guess how long it would take to find their way through the workings to where the Daleks had their shaft. If the Doctor’s guess was correct. For all they knew, the Daleks might be doing something entirely different.

‘Is this a hopeless quest?’ she demanded.

‘There’s always hope,’ the Doctor assured her. ‘After all, haven’t you just found another man who kept his promise to you?’

Donna glanced down at the pouch she wore. ‘Yes, I suppose I did.’ For some reason, that made her feel better. ‘Wow. The two men in the universe who keep their promises, and I’ve met both of them. Lucky me.’

‘Three,’ the Doctor said, indicating David. ‘He promised to stick with my granddaughter for better or worse, and he’s doing it.’ David looked slightly uncomfortable at this, but said nothing.

‘Three,’ Donna said. ‘My cup runneth over. Where were any of you when I had to get married?’

‘Oh, I was out saving the universe,’ the Doctor answered with a grin. ‘Probably.’

David just smiled faintly.

‘The last time I saw Susan,’ he began, ‘she suggested getting a divorce to resolve our age problem, and I got angry with her. What if I never get the chance to say I’m over it, that I’m not mad any more?’

The Doctor laid a hand on his arm. ‘I’m sure she knows that.’

‘Probably,’ David answered. ‘But I’d like her to hear it from me anyway.’

Smiling, the Doctor nodded his understanding, and continued to lead the way through the trees. His sonic screwdriver kept up a tinny hum, in case the Daleks were using the perimeter alarms.

What are our chances? Donna wondered. Then she decided she really didn’t want to know. The odds had to be in favour of their all dying in this insane attempt. But what else could they do? The Daleks couldn’t be allowed to live. This was their only chance of stopping them. The Doctor was right – compared with this menace, the feuding between the Domains was pointless and petty. Right now, they were all humans – and two aliens – against the Daleks.

They could only pray it would be enough.

It had taken her longer than she’d hoped, but Susan finally reached the corridor where the Daleks’ weapon was stored. She’d managed to duck and hide from every passing Dalek or Roboman, though she’d had a couple of narrow escapes. And, as far as she could tell, the Daleks weren’t yet aware that she’d escaped from her makeshift cell.

The question was – now what? There was bound to be at least one Dalek, and most likely more, with the weapon – to operate it, if not to guard it – and all she was armed with was a machine gun and her wits. Would that be sufficient to stop them?

She reached the lock outside the laboratory and checked its readout carefully. Thank goodness computers were all basically binary! She couldn’t read the Dalek language as such, but she could decipher that there were two Daleks inside the room. And that was a definite problem. Maybe she could defeat one Dalek, but she didn’t have a chance of finishing off two before one of them managed to kill her What she needed was a better weapon.

Or a distraction…

She moved to the next door in the corridor. This led simply to a storage area of some kind, and there were no Daleks inside it now. Opening the door, she checked out the room. It was filled with electronic and chemical supplies. If only she had the time, she could try to build a bomb or something. But the Daleks had claimed the weapon would be operational in five units of time. She wasn’t sure how long that would be, which meant that she couldn’t take the time for anything elaborate. Opposite this room was a second storage area. She keyed that door open and left it while she went back to the first storage room. Instead of anything complicated, she simply mixed up a flammable bunch of chemicals, spread them about the room and then fired a single shot into them.

Flames whooshed about the room so fast she was almost caught in the blast. She dived backward, dosing the door to contain the fire. Alarms started whooping as she dived through the door opposite that she had left open. Then she waited.

The door to the laboratory opened, and one of the Daleks within emerged. It glided around to survey the problem in the storage room, hesitating in the doorway. Susan rushed forward, and slammed as hard as she could into the unsuspecting Dalek. Unable to stop itself, it shot forward, into the blaze. Susan hit the control to close the door before it could turn around, and then shattered the lock with her rifle butt.

She had no idea whether or not that would finish the Dalek, but that wasn’t what was important right now. She dived through the doorway of the laboratory, her weapon ready. ‘Dalek!’ she yelled.

The remaining Dalek spun around, its eyestalk fractionally faster than the rest of its body. Susan fired a short burst, and shattered the lens of its eye. She dived to one side as the Dalek opened fire.

‘Cannot see!’ the Dalek howled, its gun blazing in all directions. ‘Intruder alert! Exterminate!’

Susan managed to get close enough to the Dalek to grapple with it. Blinded, it could do nothing but struggle and continue firing randomly. With luck, Susan thought, it might even damage its own equipment and save her the bother. But she couldn’t work with it firing constantly. Gritting her teeth, she rolled the Dalek towards the door, picking up speed, and then hurled it against the far wall. It crashed with a metallic splintering sound, and Susan hoped it had broken some vital systems. Then she keyed the door closed and shattered the lock. That wouldn’t keep the Daleks out for ever, but it might be long enough for her to disarm and destroy the device. After that, of course, they would undoubtedly kill her. But she’d worry about that when the time came. If she could save New London, dying might well be worth it.

It wasn’t hard to locate the weapon, since it was the only operational machine in the laboratory. It was smaller than she had expected, a tube about eighteen inches tall and six across. It was wired into a timing device that was counting down. It was shaped like a human clock, and marked off in increments. If she assumed that each mark represented one time unit, then there was about one quarter unit left.

How much time could she have?

The weapon was semi‐transparent, and she could see small lights pulsing within the device. It was connected to the timer through about a dozen links. Should she simply disconnect each of them? Or had the Daleks planned for that? The weapon was, after all, basically a trap for the unwary. On the other hand, the Daleks couldn’t have anticipated that any human would get quite this far into their complex.

After agonising for a few moments, she saw that the timer was crawling its way to zero rather too quickly. Perhaps the best thing would be to simply destroy the device. She considered the idea. But would gunfire do it any damage? Or would bullets simply ricochet off and injure her?

Finally, she simply acted on instinct. With the butt of the machine gun, she shattered the connections that held the device to the timer. Then she held her breath, waiting to see what would happen.

The timer continued to tick its way down, uninterrupted. But the lights in the weapon itself died out. Susan jerked the device free of the framework, and clutched it to her chest. All she had to do now was to destroy it…

There was a sound at the door as it hissed open. Susan was astonished that the Daleks had managed to break through so quickly. Her weapon wouldn’t be of much use against a Dalek if she couldn’t hit its lens, but she brought the gun up just in case. Maybe the Daleks would fire at her and destroy the device…

But it wasn’t a Dalek that stepped through the doorway, nor was it a Roboman. Instead, smiling cheerfully, it was the bearded man who had started all this. He held a gun of his own, and before Susan could pull the trigger, he fired first.

Pain lanced through her body as the bullet tore across her hand. She dropped the gun, unable to clench her fist any longer, and cried out in pain. Blood welled up, following the fire of agony.

‘My apologies,’ the man said politely, ‘but I do believe you were attempting to destroy the Daleks’ matter transmuter, and I simply can’t allow that.’ As Susan collapsed to the floor, he strode across the room and tore the Dalek device from her faltering fingers. ‘I am the Master. Thank you, my dear, you’ve been such a help.’