Doctor Who: Prisoner of the Daleks (8 page)

Bowman looked at him, raising an eyebrow. 'You ever tried?'

A pause. 'No.'

Bowman turned back to Scrum. 'Open it up.'

Cuttin' Edge powered up his laser and stepped forward.

'Wait!' cried the Doctor. 'Just one more thing. Don't forget that machine is also a life-support system. Open it up and you'll kill the creature inside.'

Bowman shrugged. 'Like I'm worried.'

'It's murder.'

All eyes turned on the Doctor, and he knew exactly what they were all thinking. Bowman said it out aloud: 'What about Stella? What do you call that?'

'You some kinda Dalek sympathiser now?' asked Cuttin' Edge bitterly.

'No. It's just...' The Doctor took a deep breath. 'It's just not right. I won't be a part of it.'

Bowman's lip curled as if his every worst opinion of the Doctor had been confirmed. He turned back to the others. 'Let's get on with it.'

Cuttin' Edge moved in with the laser, but Koral stepped forward and blocked his way. Puzzled, he switched off the laser, and the Doctor felt a surge of hope.

But Koral simply said, 'I wish to do this. For Stella.'

'It's OK,' said Bowman. 'Let her.'

Metallic claws sprang out of Koral's fingertips. They glinted, razor-sharp in the electric light. She stepped up to the Dalek and, turning her hand flat like the blade of a knife, pointed her fingertips at the centre of the shoulder section. It was here that the two halves of the weapons platform met, and, below this now that the Dalek was suspended upside down, the sections of the neck. There was an almost invisible join, less than a hair's breadth. Koral's red eyes narrowed as she concentrated and then, with explosive force, jabbed her fingers into the Dalek. The claws penetrated the metal with a flash of angry sparks.

There was no response. The Doctor was both appalled and fascinated. He realised that the claws must be diamond-hard and incredibly sharp, but even so – that kind of effort required immense mental focus and physical power.

Koral inserted her claws in the gap she had made and then suddenly, apparently with little effort, began to pull the two sections apart. At first the metal protested with a hideous grinding noise, but then, with a loud hiss of escaping gas, hydraulic motors opened the Dalek from within. Segments of armour split away, shifting on concealed hinges and slides.

Now the creature inside was visible. Something pale and wet moved like a slug among the exposed machinery, recoiling from the light.

'Get it out,' ordered Bowman.

Scrum and Cuttin' Edge picked up a pair of long metal staves, like boathooks, and approached the Dalek.

'Don't do this,' the Doctor urged them.

But they ignored him. Cuttin' Edge, grimacing in distaste, prodded the mutant creature a couple of times. The creature shrank back in its housing, but there was no escape. Scrum, his hands shaking, crouched low and inserted the end of his stave as well, trying to gain some kind of leverage.

And then, gradually, the creature began to emerge as they gouged it free like an oyster from its shell. It was accompanied by a foul stench, a smell of pure
wrongness
, of something rotten sealed away for too long.

Instinctively, both Scrum and Cuttin' Edge backed away. Whether this was due to fear, or a strange kind of respect for their captive, it was impossible to tell. Cuttin' Edge dropped the stave and drew his blaster, a look of utter revulsion on his dark, sweating features.

Koral watched carefully, cautiously, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Bowman simply stood, arms folded, his face impassive.

The Dalek oozed slowly out of its cradle, leaving a thick film of mucus behind. There was a long, obscene sucking noise and then, all in a rush, the rest of the creature emerged. It plopped out in a tangle of slippery tentacles, some over a metre in length. It didn't fall onto the floor. Something caught inside the machine and the Dalek hung there, dripping slime, swaying from side to side. One of the tentacles reached down to the floor and rested there, unmoving.

'Is it dead?' Bowman asked.

'Damn waste of time,' muttered Cuttin' Edge, lowering his blaster.

'Wait,' breathed the Doctor quietly. 'Look...'

He was pointing at the centre of the beast. In among the dangling appendages and wires still connecting the flesh to the armoured machine, there was an eye.

And it was opening.

The eye was yellow and bloodshot with a single black pupil.

No one said a word. The cargo chamber felt hot and claustrophobic now, more like a prison cell than a ship's hold. There was a genuine feeling that they were all witnessing something extraordinary.

The eye twitched, as if gaining some kind of focus, and began to move slightly in its socket.

'Dude,' said Cuttin' Edge, 'you are one
ugly
critter.'

'Be quiet,' said the Doctor sharply. 'I don't suppose you're the number one poster boy on Skaro yourself.'

'No, I guess that would be you,' said Cuttin' Edge.

'Only if they're "wanted" posters.'

'Shut up, the pair of you,' said Bowman. He stepped forward and looked down at the mutant. 'Can you hear me?'

There was a faint, gurgling reply. Bizarrely, the lights on the Dalek's dome flashed weakly.

'It's still connected,' Scrum realised, peering more closely at the nest of wires and tubes leading from the mutant's quivering flesh into the interior of the Dalek.

'Get back!' cried the Doctor, pulling Scrum to one side. As he moved, the black suction cup on the end of the Dalek's immobilised arm suddenly flexed as if trying to grab hold of Scrum's head.

'Whoa!' Cuttin' Edge cocked his blaster and aimed it at the creature's blinking eye. 'Steady on there, boy.'

The sucker continued to grasp at thin air. The arm juddered in the vice-like grip of the cargo loader, and the Dalek let out a long, low groan of despair.

'You got it, dude,' said Cuttin' Edge. 'We got you by the—'

'That's enough,' growled Bowman. He turned back to the Dalek. 'You're on board the
Wayfarer
. I'm Captain Jon Bowman and this is my crew. You're our prisoner.'

'I think it's worked that part out,' said the Doctor.

'You stay out of this,' warned Bowman.

'I can't.'

'You can and you will. If you say another word, I'll have Cuttin' Edge throw you out. Got it?'

Cuttin' Edge gave the Doctor a stony look to reinforce the promise.

'You were one of a squad of Daleks on the planet Hurala,' Bowman continued, addressing the dangling mutant. 'What were you doing there?'

'It won't answer,' said the Doctor.

'Cuttin' Edge,' said Bowman.

The Doctor held his hands up as Cuttin' Edge started towards him. 'All right, all right! I won't say another word – and nor will the Dalek.'

Bowman smiled thinly.

'We'll see. Hey. Dalek. I know you can hear me. And I know you can understand me.' Bowman lowered himself to his haunches, so that he was eye-level with his prisoner. 'Now we're all humanoids here and we can be reasonable. It's your choice. Talk to us, tell us what we want to know, and things will be easier for you. If you don't cooperate – well, let's just say it won't be so easy. I don't want things getting ugly in here, but if they do... then so be it.'

The Dalek's single eye glared at Bowman with a fierce, palpable hatred. But it said nothing.

'That your final answer?'

The eye closed.

'Right,' said Bowman, standing up. 'You got that equipment I asked for, Scrum?'

Scrum wheeled a small instrument trolley forward. Laid across the tray were a number of tools.

'You can't be serious,' said the Doctor.

'You know I am,' said Bowman bleakly.

'I can't allow this.'

Bowman raised an eyebrow. 'You're not in charge around here, Doctor. I am. I want some answers from this ugly son of a bitch and I'm going to get them – by whatever means necessary.'

'You're better than this, Bowman!' the Doctor argued fiercely. 'You're a human being! Don't do this. Stand up for what you believe in.'

'I'm standing up for Stella. I'm standing up for the people of Auros. What are you standing up for, Doctor?'

'Something better than
that
!' The Doctor jabbed a finger at the mutant. 'Humanity!'

'Well, that's a very precious commodity,' Bowman sighed. 'But it isn't worth a damn to the Daleks. They don't even understand it. They just want to eradicate it. And they'll do anything and everything to achieve that aim. You know they will. They'll stop at nothing to destroy us, and so neither can I if I want to prevent them.'

'This is just one Dalek. It's as good as defenceless.'

'So I guess it's my lucky day.' Bowman picked up one of the tools from the tray and switched it on. A crackle of energy leapt from the business end. 'This one Dalek could tell me all I need to know. Now you can either stay in here and watch, or step outside if you've not got the stomach for it.'

'If you compromise your humanity now, Bowman, then the Dalek has won before you've even started.'

For a second, Bowman looked doubtful. He stared at the tip of the energy discharger, frowning. Eventually he said, 'I'm sorry, Doctor. I cannot afford the luxury of
humanity
right now.'

'I'll stop you!' growled the Doctor.

'No, you won't,' said Cuttin' Edge, levelling his gun at the Doctor's head. 'One more word an' you'll be able to sharpen pencils in your forehead.'

The Doctor glared icily at him. Then he turned to look at Scrum. 'What about you, Scrum? Are you a part of this, too?'

'You know I am,' replied Scrum quietly. He looked away. 'Just get out, Doctor, while you still can.'

The Doctor took a deep breath, realising that he was defeated. Koral watched him carefully from the other side of the cell, but her gaze was inscrutable.

Finally, the Doctor looked down at the Dalek creature. There was a slight gurgle, no more than a cough, and the dome lights sparked once. It could have been a nerve twitching, or an attempt at thanks, or even an insult. It could have been anything.

Tight-lipped, the Doctor stepped out of the room and the door hissed shut behind him.

He paced the corridor outside, seething. He had seldom felt so helpless. Of all the difficulties he had ever faced, all the strange and deadly encounters with creatures and aliens and monsters, it had to be a bunch of humans that finally stopped him in his tracks. Stupid, stubborn, infuriating
humans
.

Not for the first time, the Doctor felt incredibly alone. He longed for someone like Martha or Donna, someone who would understand, someone who could help. He thought of Stella, and a deep sense of grief suddenly washed over him. She would have understood. She would have helped.

With a heavy sigh, the Doctor leant against the wall opposite the cargo bay door. He could hear voices from inside the hold, but he couldn't tell what they were saying. He knew the Dalek wouldn't speak. He wasn't even sure if it
could
speak – there was no way of knowing how damaged it was after the cryo-charge had struck, or whether it had been harmed by the thawing process. Perhaps it was little more than a vegetable, incapable of thought or action.

He wished it was dead.

'
Think
!' he ordered himself, pressing the knuckles of his fists into his temples, running his hands backwards and forwards through his hair. He had to do something.
Anything
. There must be a way of stopping them.

Seized by a sudden need to take action, he turned towards the flight deck. Perhaps he could take control of the ship, force them to stop. Or divert all power from the cargo hold so that none of their instruments and tools would work.

The Doctor was already reaching into his pocket for the sonic screwdriver when the door hissed open. He looked up, surprised and hopeful.

It was Koral. The door hissed shut behind her and she stalked towards the Doctor. 'I've been sent out to stop you doing anything stupid.'

'I'm not the one who's doing anything stupid.'

'Put the sonic device away.'

The Doctor looked imploringly at her. 'Koral – you could put a stop to this madness. You know you could.'

'Perhaps. But I do not wish to.'

'But, Koral—'

'No buts.' She held up a hand and out jumped the steel talons. 'It would be much wiser to do as I ask.'

'Would it?' The Doctor's shoulders slumped and he put the screwdriver back in his pocket. 'All right. You've made your point.'

There was a hint of a smile as the claws were sheathed. 'Bowman guessed you would try to sabotage the ship or otherwise attempt to stop him.'

'He was right.'

'I will make sure that doesn't happen.'

The Doctor did not reply. He simply looked down as they both heard the sharp, galvanistic crackle of Bowman's energy discharger starting up, the noise slightly muffled by the cargo hold's heavy door.

The Doctor closed his eyes.

And then he heard an awful, shrill scream of pain as the discharger was used on the Dalek. It was followed by a long, involuntary gargle of relief as the agony ceased.

Koral stared straight ahead, utterly impassive.

The Doctor sank to the floor, his head in his hands.