Текст книги "Doctor Who- Legacy of the Daleks"

Автор книги: John Peel

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

14

The Gates of Hell

Susan’s blurred vision caught what happened next in shock. David flung himself to cover the Doctor. The bullets tore into him, throwing him back against the Doctor, blood flowing Susan whimpered, trying to get to her feet to run to the aid of her husband and her grandfather. Her fingers clutched the TCE that the Master had dropped.

Cursing, the Master flung the useless gun away, and again grabbed Susan, shoving her further into his TARDIS. Susan saw the girl with the Doctor snatch up the fallen revolver, and she heard shots as the Master’s TARDIS doors slid closed. Susan crumpled to the floor, her world a mass of pain and shock as she tried to focus her thoughts. The Master strode to his console, and started to slam home switches.

‘You haven’t won, Doctor,’ he sneered. ‘I have the transmuter – and you have nothing!’ He shot home the last controls, and Susan looked up in despair as the time rotor began to rise and fall…

Donna stared in shock as what looked like a computer console simply sighed and vanished. She let the gun fall and then remembered her companions. She turned back to them.

She could see immediately that there was no chance that David would make it. He’d taken four shots to the chest, and the dark, arterial blood was gushing down him. More blood trickled from his mouth as she knelt to try to give him some sort of comfort.

‘No use,’ he told her, gasping with the strain. ‘Too late.’ He looked at the Doctor. ‘Better this way, perhaps. Now Susan won’t have to wait for me to die.’

Controlling the pain he had to be feeling, the Doctor had a hand to his own wound, using his cravat to staunch the flow of blood. ‘She would have looked forward to the rest of your life,’ he assured David. ‘You didn’t have to do this.’

‘Yes, I did,’ David insisted. ‘Get her back, Doctor,’ he begged.

‘He won’t keep her,’ the Doctor swore.

David looked back at Donna, a faint smile on his lips. ‘He always keeps his promises.’

‘Eventually,’ she couldn’t help adding.

David nodded slowly, his face wreathed in pain. Then he simply stopped breathing. Donna felt the tears welling inside of her.

‘He was a good man,’ the Doctor murmured.

‘One of the two in the universe,’ Donna muttered. His head was still in her lap, and she was smeared with his blood. That would wash off, but the memory of David Campbell would not.

There was a noise from the corridor, and the Doctor looked back and then frowned. ‘Daleks…’

Donna looked at him, then glanced at the far door that led to the pit. ‘That’s our only way out now.’

‘And there are more Daleks at the top of it,’ he pointed out. ‘But we’ve no other choice. Come on.’ He pulled her free of David. She winced as the dead head hit the floor. The Doctor jumped for the door‐lock controls, obviously hoping to buy them a few extra seconds.

Then Donna remembered the grenades Barlow had given her. She fumbled them from her bag as the door started to slide closed. Pulling their pins, she rolled them under the descending door. ‘Die,’ she muttered, as she hared after the Doctor.

The door slid shut and then shook from the explosions.

‘They won’t be getting out of there very quickly,’ Donna told the Doctor. They had reached the base of the pit now, and he stood at the foot of the ladder. Forcing herself not to think about what was happening, she moved to him. ‘How’s your shoulder?’

‘I’ll live,’ he answered. His cravat was wet with blood.

‘You can’t climb like that,’ she objected. ‘Here.’ She helped him out of his coat, and then tore a strip from its lining to tie the cravat about the wound. ‘Lousy field dressing, but it should hold for a while.’

‘I liked that coat,’ he objected.

‘I’ll buy you a new one later,’ she promised him. ‘If there is a later.’

‘There’s always a later,’ he answered. ‘The question is, will there be an us in that later?’ He shrugged and then winced with pain. ‘That’s as good as it will get,’ he said, struggling to get hack into the tatters of the coat. She helped him.

‘Can you manage?’ she asked.

‘Is there an option?’ he replied, a broad grin on his face. ‘There’s climbing and maybe dying to be done this day.’ With his good hand, he gripped a rung, and started up. ‘Heads up,’ he murmured.

‘Are you sure you can manage this?’ Donna asked anxiously.

‘We don’t have any choice,’ he stated, exasperation starting to show in his words. ‘Our little bit of sabotage won’t stop the Daleks for long, and all they have to do is to communicate with the ones at the top of this climb anyway. I’m at the top of their shoot‐on‐sight list.’

Somehow that didn’t surprise her.

The first reinforcements had started to trickle in now. Barlow felt a little better about this, but the troops were the lightly armed ones, none with anything that could really take out Daleks. And his observations of the pit area showed that they were still working on something, having hauled equipment up. He strongly suspected it was a replacement transmitter. All he’d managed to do so far was to delay the Daleks a little. Perhaps the Doctor was having better luck. It was time that somebody did.

‘Let’s start moving in,’ he decided. He still had a few of his grenades left, and two of the fresh batch had the more conventional kind. The others would be able to deal with the handful of Robomen still alive, at least. He looked around at the dismal grey sky, wondering if he’d live to see the night fall.

Moving restlessly the Black Dalek demanded a fresh report. The duty officer turned to answer.

‘Repair units have just reached the gestation pool,’ it said. ‘They report that the controls will not respond. Power drain is increasing.’

The Black Dalek considered the matter. ‘They are to destroy the equipment,’ it decided. ‘Immediately!’

‘Destruction of the embryos will leave us without extra units,’ the officer objected.

‘Their destruction will allow us to survive,’ the Black Dalek grated. ‘Other factories exist that can be wakened by our signal. Priority now is communications. Destroy the embryo unit.’

‘I obey!’

The Doctor poked his head over the lip of the pit, and then hastily withdrew it. ‘Barlow seems to have done his job,’ he called down to Donna softly. ‘But, as usual, the Daleks have a backup plan, and they’re building a new transmitter.’

‘Maybe he can destroy this one, too,’ Donna said hopefully, clinging on, several rungs below him.

‘I think he used up most of his ammunition on the first attack,’ the Doctor answered. ‘Unless he can get reinforcements in, he doesn’t stand much of a chance with a second attack.’

Donna didn’t like the way that this conversation was going. ‘And the Daleks are bound to have traced your sabotage of the hatchery by now,’ she pointed out. ‘Is anything going right?’

‘Oh yes,’ the Doctor assured her. ‘Because they won’t discover my real sabotage until after the gestation pool is history.’

Feeling a sudden surge of hope, Donna asked, ‘And what sabotage is that?’

‘The factory,’ he replied, a faint smile on his pale face. ‘I set the controls there to overload, to continually increase the temperature. It’s an electron‐induction furnace, so we’re talking several thousand degrees.’

Donna winced. ‘We’re talking several thousand degrees as in: if we don’t get out of here we’ll get badly sunburned?’

‘Something like that, yes,’ he admitted.

‘And how long do we have before that happens?’ she demanded.

‘Hard to say. But I wouldn’t make any long‐term plans to stay on this ladder.’

‘Thanks for telling me,’ she growled, glancing back down the pit – knowing that there was a possible end in sight was almost impossible to comprehend. Knowing it might mean her own end as well made it less reassuring. ‘If it’s all the same to you, I think I’d prefer to take my chances up there making a run for it rather than waiting here to become a well‐done chunk of steak.’

‘My thoughts exactly,’ he agreed. ‘Shall we?’

‘Why not?’ Taking a deep breath and trying to steady her shattered nerves, Donna followed him up the last few rungs and over the rim of the pit.

As the explosion from the hatchery shook the complex, the Red Dalek in charge of the squad looked towards the computer technician, still scanning the energy readings. ‘Report.’

‘Gestation pool destruction complete,’ it grated. ‘Power levels… still falling rapidly.’

‘Further sabotage,’ the Red Dalek announced. ‘Location?’

The technician worked feverishly. Power levels were dropping dangerously low. ‘The furnace,’ it finally replied.

‘Follow me,’ the Red Dalek ordered its crew, starting down the corridor towards that area. As it moved, it transmitted its report to the Black Dalek.

In the control centre, the Black Dalek considered further. The human sabotage had led to the destruction of the embryos, and still power levels were dropping. ‘Close down all side tunnels,’ it ordered. ‘All mobile units to return to the main area. All other sections are to be shut down to conserve power.’ Then came the message from the repair crew of further sabotage at the furnace. Whoever had done this was clearly more intelligent than most humans. Power levels were falling drastically.

‘Estimate time to completion of communications,’ it demanded.

‘Two time units,’ the technician answered.

That was unacceptable. The power loss would be terminal before then. There had to be another solution to the problem. But one was not obvious. It was not possible that the Daleks had failed again.

It could not be.

Donna jumped to her feet, following the Doctor as he started to move from the head of the shaft. There were about ten Daleks working on their new equipment, close to the still burning wreckage of the destroyed transmitter. Six Robomen were staring outward, probably guarding against another attack from Barlow. The Doctor was trying to get to cover behind the wrecked unit when one of the Dalek technicians spotted them moving.

It whirled around. ‘Intruders!’ it intoned. ‘Exterminate!’ Its gun fired as Donna forced herself to move faster. The bolt singed her hair, and felt like an electrified hand slamming into her back. She was thrown off balance, into the mud.

The Doctor saw her fall, and felt a cold fury seize his battered body. Daleks. Somehow it always came down to this. Good… well, him, against evil. Cold, pitiless evil. How many lives had the Daleks taken? How many worlds lay in ruins in their wake, throughout time and space?

And he knew with a terrible certainty that whatever he did to try to stop them would never, ever be enough.

For a second he wished he could see the bigger picture again, the grand design, as he dreamed he once could. But there was only darkness and pain crowding his head, now.

And fear.

‘Return to work!’ another Dalek ordered the first. ‘Communications is a priority. Robomen will eliminate all intruders.’

Donna stared up from the ground. The Dalek turned back to its equipment, but all six Robomen turned their blank faces towards her and the Doctor. She saw the Doctor’s bloody figure start staggering towards the helmeted figures.

‘Daleks!’ roared the Doctor, ignoring the Robomen as they raised their guns, looking for all the world as if he was going to try and push his way past them to get to the Daleks himself.

Donna staggered to her feet. ‘Doctor! No!’ she screamed, running towards him. She’d be damned if she’d die grovelling in the mud.

Gunshots hammered all around, and she involuntarily closed her eyes. But none of the bullets hit her, and as she looked again, she saw that it was the Robomen who were being cut apart by small‐arms fire.

The Doctor stopped his advance, staring round bewilderedly as if waking from a trance, and slumped to his knees in the squelching mud.

The Daleks at the device all spun around, bringing up their guns. ‘Exterminate all humans!’ She couldn’t tell which had spoken, but it wasn’t necessary to know: each of them had simply that one thought in mind.

Then Donna saw him – Barlow! He was hunched over a rock past the entrance, leading some twenty troopers who were firing at the dying Robomen. A grim smile forced itself on her lips. Maybe they would survive this, after all. Barlow fired first, taking out one of the Daleks. Then the Daleks opened fire. They had targeted the soldiers first, since they were the most dangerous. Four of five were caught in the ravaging fire, and screamed as they died. Others fired futilely at the Daleks. Bullets simply bounced off their armoured casings. Then Barlow fired two more grenades. The man was a wicked shot, striking home with both. Then he flung his weapon away in disgust, clearly out of ammunition.

Donna felt sick. The grenade launcher had been the only weapon effective against the Daleks so far, and the Daleks knew it. They moved forward, firing continually. Donna managed to dash over to the Doctor, still on his knees in the mud. He looked horribly pale. She glanced at the field dressing and winced. It was soaked in blood. The strain was dearly killing him.

‘You can’t keep this up,’ she said, shocked.

‘And I won’t just die,’ he retorted weakly. ‘We have to try to get out of here. Barlow, too. He doesn’t stand a chance.’

Donna glanced at the attacking soldiers. The Doctor was right: two more were dying, screaming in agony. Not many were left.

And then came another Dalek ray blast – but from the human side. The shot caught the foremost Dalek in motion, exploding its dome. Donna couldn’t understand it until she saw there were fresh human troops carrying what had to be Dalek guns. The cavalry had arrived with fresh supplies – weapons that were as effective against Daleks as they were against humans.

The remaining Daleks clustered to fire at the fresh troops. One of the soldiers armed with a Dalek gun was caught and died shaking in agony. The others scattered, firing at will.

And then the ground shook. Donna barely kept her footing, and the Doctor slid to the mud. The earth quaked, as if raging against all of the violence. Donna glanced back and understood immediately what had happened. The Doctor’s sabotage had paid off.

The Black Dalek studied the readouts available to it. The complex was in serious danger of being destroyed. The power levels were dropping, and the damage to the crèche and foundry were escalating.

The unthinkable was happening: the Daleks were being defeated.

The Black Dalek spun about and moved from the control room. The transmuter was not responding to commands, malfunctioning, but it might still be possible to activate it manually. All the codes needed to destroy the surrounding area were inside its own inboard computer. The Black Dalek could plug its circuits directly into the transmuter and utilize it to destroy the enemy target. At least the failure then would not be so total and ignominious.

The door to the laboratory refused to open. The Black Dalek fired at it until the lock was reduced to slag, and then pushed the door aside. It took a single glance to show that the transmuter had somehow been torn from its position.

The humans…

The Black Dalek stared in outrage at the final evidence of the Dalek defeat.

Huge flames licked from the pit of DA‐17, rising twenty feet or more into the air. The ground beyond was ruptured, crashing apart. Flames and molten rocks oozed from the devastated ground. Fire was everywhere. It was as if the gates of Hell had been opened, and the internal fires loosed.

The Daleks that were left all seemed to go into slow motion as their power source was destroyed. Their guns died, their limbs faltered, and finally they stopped moving. The ground cracked and seethed about them, swallowing them up, returning them to the ground from which they had been forged.

A blast of heat washed over Donna, and she gasped from the pain. ‘Come on, Doctor,’ she grumbled. ‘We’ve got to move.’ There was no response, and she saw that he was now completely unconscious. ‘Oh, Christ,’ she muttered. Grabbing his good arm, she managed to lever him up, and started to drag him away from the increasing zone of destruction. Trees and shrubs close by had caught fire and were burning like huge torches. The grass was spreading the flames, and Donna had serious doubts about being able to make it out.

Then Barlow was with her, and he lifted the Doctor’s feet without comment. Together, sweating and aching, they carried their insensate burden beyond the immediate danger zone. When she was sure they were far enough away, Donna called for a halt. Her fingers were almost nerveless when she allowed the Doctor to flop gently to the ground.

‘I’ve got medics coming in,’ Barlow assured her. ‘I knew there would be casualties.’ He peered at the Doctor.’ Will he be OK?’

‘I don’t have a clue,’ Donna growled, fighting not to cry. ‘He’s an alien. God knows what sort of body chemistry he’s got.’

‘Jesus,’ Barlow looked back at the seething mass of lava and the burning grounds. ‘Well, you two obviously know how to throw a parry.’ Then he looked concerned. ‘What happened to your friend?’

‘Dead,’ Donna answered. ‘He saved the Doctor’s life.’

Barlow nodded, at least not making any inane comment about how sorry he was when it simply wasn’t true. ‘I lost too many myself,’ he said finally. ‘I think I’m burned out of fighting.’

‘Well, there’s hope for us yet, then,’ Donna said with a sigh. ‘Where the hell are those medics?’

‘They’re coming,’ he promised her.

‘They’d better be,’ said Donna.

Darkness had flooded Susan’s hearts, and she simply sat on the floor of the Master’s TARDIS as bitterness and loss filled her soul. The Master had shot her grandfather – perhaps killed him – and he had certainly killed David. Tears fell from her eyes unheeded as she thought about the loss. David had been her whole life for over thirty years, everything she had given up her freedom and heritage for. The recent troubled times were an unfair testament to their many happy years together. She knew they’d have got over their problems somehow. But now, there was no chance.

She’d known that David would die before she did – a long time before. But being gunned down by a homicidal maniac, after all they’d survived through… The same maniac who had uncaringly unleashed the Daleks back on Earth again. It meant nothing to the Master that the Daleks would create havoc and deal out death or enslavement to anyone who crossed their paths. To him, humans were insignificant beings, to be used and discarded as he wished.

Grief was rising within her, but not as swiftly as the rage. This monster had casually destroyed, or attempted to destroy, everyone that she held dear, all to gain a device by which he intended to blackmail other worlds into submitting to his twisted will. Rage filled her body, bringing back life out of her lethargy. She still held, unnoticed, the Master’s TCE, clutched in her frozen grip. The Master was paying her no attention at all as he laboured over his TARDIS’s controls. To him she was simply a minor inconvenience to be disposed of at his earliest opportunity, no doubt.

But he was wrong.

The fury was starting to consume her, giving her back her strength. She had almost forgotten the pain in her hand now as she focused only on her need for action.

There was the sighing again as the TARDIS landed somewhere, the time rotor switching from rising and falling to the spinning scanning mode. ‘Tersurus,’ the Master murmured. His TARDIS was obviously fully functional, unlike the Doctor’s.

Susan rose to her feet, glaring at him, and slowly moved towards the console. It was quite different in many ways from the one she’d been used to, thirty years earlier, but there were some similarities. Good.

The Master glanced up at her. He was still clutching the transmuter to his chest protectively. ‘Stay away, child,’ he warned her. ‘There are forces you cannot possibly comprehend being harnessed by these controls.’

‘Forces?’ Susan felt like spitting in his face.’ And what about all the things that you don’t seem to understand? Like love, compassion and decency?’

He laughed briefly. ‘Weaknesses,’ he jibed. ‘Excuses for the powerless. There is only one true reality in this universe – that of power! And that is my destiny.’

‘Power?’ Susan stared at him scornfully. ‘You used your power to kill my husband.’

He simply shrugged. ‘Humans have such short lives anyway,’ he commented. ‘I promise to be merciful and allow you to join him soon. When I can be bothered.’

‘Merciful!’ Susan was still moving slowly forward, drawing closer to the controls now. ‘You’re a shallow, vicious, self‐centred, evil little troll, with less decency than any of the people you’ve killed. You really think you deserve power?’

‘Power belongs to those who can claim it and hold it the Master responded, seemingly amused by her argument.

‘Then I’ll show you power,’ Susan snarled. She moved forward, touching both hands to the contacts for the telepathic circuits. ‘And I’m not a human – God help me, I’m one of you.’

The Master’s eyes widened slightly at this revelation, and he gave a sharp cry as he moved forward to knock her hands from the console.

But he was far, far too late.

Susan had known for a long time that she had greater latent telepathic powers even than most of her people. It was raw talent and normally unfocused. But working telepathic circuits could do what her own mind could not. The TARDIS caught up her will, and shaped it, like a weapon – aimed directly at the mind of the TARDIS’s controller.

The Master screamed and collapsed as the mental wave slammed into him. Susan had harnessed all of her rage, all of her grief, all of her loss, into one, rock‐hard emotion of hatred. She sent this seething mass of fury deeply into the Master’s mind, burning at his exposed thoughts, slicing through his own desires, devastating every last thought in his mind. She fed her fury over David’s murder, her anguish about her grandfather, her sense of loss, promises broken, the horror of Daleks resurrected – every last agonising emotion was fed from her mind, amplified by the telepathic circuits and directed like a laser into his brain.

He rolled on the floor, howling in agony as his mind slowly fried. Susan glowered down at him, refusing to feel the slightest twinge of pity or remorse for what she was doing. She wouldn’t even allow herself the luxury of satisfaction, in case that weakened her rage. But she did feel some of the feedback from the Master’s mind, and she stared into the pit of his inhumanity. She saw a creature who never doubted that it was his right to do precisely what he wished, who spared no concern for any other living creature. His own will was all that mattered to him in the entire universe. He was self‐consumed to the exclusion of any kind of gentleness or kindness.

Whispers of his knowledge, his thoughts and his deeds crossed Susan’s awareness. They sickened her, and fed her despair and fury. The Master writhed under the bombardment his mind being ravaged and consumed.

Until, finally, she could keep going no longer. Weakened and shaking, she jerked her trembling hands from the contacts and stared down at the trembling creature at her feet. She knew what she had done to him, and didn’t have a single regret or doubt. And yet, even after all he had been through, such was his own strength of will that he managed to open his eyes and focus on her.

‘You’re… the Doctor’s whelp,’ he gasped. It was a terrible strain on him, but he was focusing solely on this one fact. ‘I shall… destroy you… have my revenge on him.’

‘You’ll destroy nobody ever again,’ Susan vowed. She showed him the TCE. ‘This time, I’m the one with the weapon, Master of nothing. Get to your feet, or I swear I’ll kill you where you grovel.’ She knew he could read the grim assurance that she meant what she said. She wasn’t even sure he could move after what he’d been through, but he amazed her again.

He staggered to his knees, and then to his feet. The transmuter was still locked in his arms, like a precious child in the embrace of a doting mother. His eyes showed madness, but his will was surmounting even that. He was incredible – and demonic.

‘Outside,’ Susan ordered, triggering the door control. She also shut down the defence systems totally. It wasn’t beyond his imagining to have sabotaged them in the event of necessity. She had no desire for the TARDIS to incapacitate her now because of some cunning scheme of his. ‘Outside,’ she repeated.

Trembling from his inner struggle, the Master obeyed.

Tersurus was a nothing planet – bare rock, a few struggling lichens Little greenery, and nothing animal at all in sight. Maybe she wasn’t seeing it at its best, but Susan hardly cared about that. She hadn’t been a tourist since she’d left Grandfather.

‘That’s far enough,’ she decided. The Master staggered to a halt. ‘Now, put that thing down and step away from it.’

‘What are you going to do?’ the Master demanded. He seemed to be recovering slowly but incrementally from the mental assault.

‘I’m going to destroy it so that neither you nor any other maniac can use it,’ she replied grimly.

‘No!’ he yelped. ‘It’s my tool to power! You can’t have it! You can’t!’ His mind was starting to crumble again from the stress.

Susan glared at him coldly ‘I’m destroying it in five seconds,’ she stated. ‘If you’re still holding it then – so be it.’

‘It’s mine!’ he screamed, and he tried to run. But he’d overestimated his own strength, and instead crashed to the ground. Whimpering and snarling, he clutched the transmuter to his chest.

‘Five,’ Susan said, and aimed the TCE. There was neither pity nor mercy left in her. She triggered the device, knowing she was killing the Master, too – and discovered that she was glad of it. If any being deserved death, it was him.

The energies of the TCE ravaged through the transmuter, and on into the Master’s body. There was no respite for him now, no way to regenerate from such a death. The transmuter exploded, energies flaring forth. Susan staggered back, shielding her eyes, and reentered the Master’s TARDIS. She closed the doors swiftly and hurried to the console. There she switched on the screen. She could see the energy wave licking futilely at the shell of the TARDIS.

It was over. The transmuter was destroyed, the Master dead.

Now what? What did she have left to her? She stared down at the console, lost and confused. She was free again, in all senses of the word. David’s death had severed her ties to Earth, and, now she had a TARDIS, everywhere was open to her.

She gradually realised that a warning light was flashing. Susan dredged through her memories – her own, as well as some she’d taken from the Master – and recognised it as a signal lock.

That brought her crashing back to the here and now with a shock. When she’d switched off the TARDIS’s defence systems, she’d left it vulnerable to a search from Gallifrey! The Time Lords were tracking her down… And she knew what would happen to her if they found her. She’d fled her homeworld with her grandfather for very good reasons, which were unlikely to have changed. She moved quickly, drawing on the Master’s knowledge of his ship to reset the defence grid to shield her signal. Then she set the controls to a random destination and engaged the drive units.

With a whisper, the ship left the ruins of Tersurus behind. Since she didn’t have any idea where she was going, neither would the Time Lords. She was still free of them. And she now had a TARDIS once again… One that was controllable… She stared at the console in wonder. She was no longer confined to Earth. She could go anywhere, do anything.

But David… Grandfather…

She was free, but her two great loves were no longer with her.