Doctor Who: Remembrance of the Daleks (12 page)

‘They’ve gone.’

Gilmore didn’t need this, not now, not with the Ministry of Defence breathing clown his neck. A square mile of Shoreditch had been evacuated. They wouldn’t be able to keep a lid on events forever, whatever the cover story. And now the Doctor had taken it in his head to vanish, just when Gilmore needed him.

He told Mike to deploy look-outs. ‘And then take a squad and sweep the area,’ he added. He caught Rachel’s eye; she looked worried. ‘I want the Doctor found and brought back here.’

There was a tangle of bodies in the yard – four or five men in work clothes were sprawled on the cobbles, their limbs twisted in unnatural positions. The Doctor knelt quickly and lifted a man’s wrist.

‘Daleks,’ he said, and for a moment Ace saw a terrible anger in his face. The Doctor let go and the arm fell limply back. Ace heard a faint humming sound. Behind the bodies was a casket set on crude wooden trestles – the sound was coming from there. As the Doctor approached the hum grew in intensity. ‘Be quiet,’ he said to the casket; the sound diminished.

‘Is that it?’ asked Ace.

The Doctor placed a hand on the pitted metal and smiled. ‘The Hand of Omega – the most powerful and sophisticated remote stellar manipulation device ever constructed – is in here.’

Ace glanced at the bodies. ‘Are you sure you want the Daleks to have it?’

‘Absolutely,’ said the Doctor.

Ace picked her way through the bodies and touched the casket with her hand. There was a tingling sensation in her fingertips and it was cold.

‘You know what to do, don’t you?’ The Doctor was talking to the casket. ‘Yes, of course you do.’

He talks to it as if it were...

‘It’s alive?’

The Doctor nodded. ‘In a manner of speaking.’ He walked to a big pair of sliding doors. ‘You don’t mess about with the interior of stars unless you have some intelligence.’ There was a normal sized door set into the larger sliding ones. ‘It’s less intelligent than the prototype, though. That one was so smart it went on strike for better conditions.’

The Doctor opened the door and beckoned Ace in.

Inside it was dim. She could make out a big storeroom whose shelves were piled with wooden planks, trays of nails and paint pots. Ace saw that it was all covered in a thin layer of dust; it smelt of resin and paint-stripper.

Down a short connecting corridor she could see what looked like an office.

The Doctor checked to see if anyone was about and stepped in. The office contained a desk, a chair, a filing cabinet and something else. Ace immediately recognized it as Dalek technology.

Somebody sits in it, she thought, and the helmet fits over their head. She started to climb onto the seat.

Whoever uses this thing is small – like a kid.

The Doctor pulled her away. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

The Doctor looked at the chair thing. ‘Some kind of biomechanoid control centre,’ he said, ‘Adapted for a small human.’ He examined one of the connecting fibres. ‘Of course – it’s a battle computer.’

‘Why would a human need to sit in it?’

‘The Daleks major drawback is their dependence on logic and rationality.’ The Doctor grinned. ‘All you have to do is make a couple of irrational moves and the Daleks get confused.’

‘You mean they’re too clever by half?’

The Doctor ignored her. ‘Their solution is to get a humanoid, preferably young and imaginative, plug him into the system and his intuition and creativity are slaved to the battle computer.’

‘It’s well boggling.’

‘It’s obscene,’ said the Doctor. ‘Now for their time controller.’ He reached behind the desk and pulled open a drawer.

‘What it is?’

It was a globe with lightning at its centre. ‘It’s the device they use to travel through time.’ He looked into its heart. ‘They’ve come a long way.’ The Doctor placed his hands on the globe. Lightning clung to his fingertips. Ace saw his shoulders tense as he seemed to push with his arms.

The globe went dark.

‘Have you broken it?’

The Doctor looked at her with surprise. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I don’t want to lumber Earth with a Dalek battle squad. I merely put it out of phase. They can fix it but it will slow there clown.’

The Doctor flexed his fingers. A white rectangle appeared like a playing card in the hand of a conjurer. It, however, was smaller than a playing card – more like a gentleman’s calling card. The Doctor placed it by the time controller. There was strange angular writing on the card.

Ace heard a noise. It was time to leave.

Something was wrong.

Outside of the battle computer, data transrnission was imperfect. The interface between the girl and the Dalek Supreme blurred further.

Something was wrong.

The Dalek Supreme re-entered the operations centre.

The girl moved with biped agility to the time controller.

Time controller deactivated
, sent the girl, along with a set of repair parameters. She discovered a small rectangular card. Through her eyes the image of the card was scanned and shunted into analysis. One nanosecond. Broken down into hexidecimal code, it flashed through perfect crystal memory storage as a beam of coherent light. There, deep in the core memory, listed under Gallifrey – cultural dynamics (symbols of). Two nanoseconds. The symbol was the seal of the Prydonion Chapter: Prydonion Chapter –

politico-economic faction. Three nanoseconds. Renegade Time Lord, Ka Faraq Gatri, enemy of the Daleks, bringer of darkness.

The Doctor.

Four nanoseconds.

The Dalek Supreme felt a sudden thrill of fear.

The girl was back in the chair; the battle computer gestalt was running. The Dalek Supreme was getting tactical updates on the positions of its warriors, which were spread out in prepared defensive positions around the warehouse. The battle computer urged pursuit, capture and recorded disintegration of the Doctor. Five nanoseconds.

Such an act would gain prestige with other renegade factions. Perhaps drawing them into the conflict with the Imperium. Six nanoseconds.

The Dalek Supreme gave the order to all renegade Daleks:
Seek, locate and exterminate the Doctor.

Ace was following the Doctor, and the Doctor wasn’t going to stop. A hundred metres behind them bits of brick were still falling on to the pavement. Two grey Daleks had opened fire from hiding, as Ace and the Doctor crossed the road. Ace hadn’t seen the Doctor move when suddenly he swung her out of the line of fire. Brick-dust and flame erupted from the wall beside them. The after image of the energy bolt was still flashing on her retinas. ‘They’re eager,’ was all the Doctor said.

Now the two Daleks chased them up the road.

They’re not fast, thought Ace, but they keep on coming.

Ace pounded after the Doctor who ran light-footecily round a corner. They saw the Dalek before it saw there.

Without looking the Doctor gripped Ace’s arm and pivoted her around. Something blocked out the sky; she felt rough cloth against her cheek – a workman’s tent. It went very quiet.

‘Why didn’t you just run off with the Hand of Omega and give it to the other Daleks.’

‘With some luck,’ said the Doctor, ‘the imperial Daleks will eliminate the renegades for us. Besides, if I just roll up and give it to them, they’ll get suspicious.’

‘Suspicious of what?’ asked Ace. ‘You still haven’t...’

The Doctor placed a cool hand over her rnouth and jerked his head to the left. Ace slowly turned her head and saw the rear of a grey Dalek half a metre front them. She closed her mouth and swallowed carefully.

Private Abbot saw Sergeant Smith motion with his arm and led the section out of the school gates. Abbot’s grip on his gun was sweaty -. he didn’t have any faith in it any more, not even with the special-issue armour piercing rounds. Might as well spit at the damned pepperpots.

‘All right,’ said Smith, ‘come with me, and keep your eyes peeled for Ace and the Doctor.’

Abbot glanced back at Bellos who carried the anti-tank rifle. ‘Hey,’ he whispered. ‘If we see a pepperpot, do me a favour will you?’

Bellos grunted. ‘What?’

‘Don’t miss,’ said Abbot.

‘Shut it,’ hissed Smith.

I wonder what his beef is? thought Abbot. Adjusting his grip on the gun, he scuttled across the road.

Mike ran up to the pub window and checked inside.

Nothing. Behind him the section was pressed warily into the pub wall. He waved Bellos and Amery into point on the intersection of the alley and Coal Hill Road. The two men quickly set up the launcher and slipped a round into the back. Amery crouched down and readied a second rocket.

It was quiet.

Mike was watching for Daleks, white and gold ones.

Ratcliffe had assured him that the threat came from them.

He felt a twinge of regret for Matthews and the others killed at Totters Lane, but Ratcliffe explained it so well –

sacrifices had to be made.

Mike signalled Abbot forward. The soldier got into position behind a lamppost, gun at his shoulder and eyes alert to any movement. They were good lads. Once the Association was in power it would need men like that.

Disciplined men who knew their jobs. Afterwards.

But first, Mike wanted to see Ace safe.

‘Sarge,’ called Abbot. ‘Movement, up the alley.’

Mike slipped the safety off his gun.

The TARDIS was standing where they had left it in the shadow of the alley. Ace stared at the smooth blue paint on its surface. It was unnaturally smooth, that strange shade of blue. It was all she could do not to push open the door and go in.

‘Couldn’t we just...?’ said Ace, nodding at the time-space machine.

‘No,’ said the Doctor. ‘We’ve got work to do. Here comes the military.’

Ace looked and saw Mike running towards them a big grin on his face. ‘Where have you been?’

‘Dalek hunting,’ said the Doctor, ‘Now it’s the other way round.’

Ace felt absurdly pleased at the impressed expression on Mike’s face. Let’s play this nice and cool, said a voice in her head. Play what? asked another, younger voice.
This!

said the first voice. Oh, said the young voice,
that
.

‘Is Gilmore still at the school?’’ asked the Doctor.

Mike looked quickly at the Doctor. ‘Yes.’

‘Then we had better get back and soothe his troubled brow,’ said the Doctor and marched off. Ace hardly noticed.

Mike wished that Ace wouldn’t look at him like that. The girl was so intense, but that was all right – he liked that.

Mike wondered whether she kissed with the same intensity.

You’re never going to find out, he told himself, unless you get something going soon. Mike had been thinking of and discarding one chat-up line after another. What could anyone say to a girl who attacks Daleks with a baseball bat?

It had to be neutral sounding, but unmistakable. Mike cleared his throat. ‘Ace?’

‘When we’re finished with this lot do you fancy going to the pictures?’ For a terrible moment he thought she was going to laugh.

‘You’re confident,’ she said. ‘What’s on?’

Mike’s mind went blank. ‘Don’t know.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ said Ace, ‘I’ve probably already seen it on television.’

Mike had about three seconds to try to figure that out before a bolt of superheated plasma blew away the wall behind him. They both ducked, heads jerking round to look for the enemy. Mike saw than first.

They were grey Daleks.

No, thought Mike, this can’t be right. Ratcliffe said.

‘Daleks!’ He grabbed Ace’s hand and together they ran for the srltool. There wits a flash to the left: smoke vented from the rear of the rocket launcher. Mike felt the heat of the rocket exhaust as the missile streaked past. It detonated behind him as it hit something.

Bellos hung on to the launcher as Amery shoved another missile up the pipe. Three hundred yards up the alley a Dalek was brewing up nicely. Dense off-white smoke was obscuring any movement behind it. Amery patted him on the shoulder, the signal that the second missile was ready.

Bellos squinted through the ratchet sight. He could see nothing through the smoke.

‘Come on you lovelies,’ he murmured, ‘let’s be having you.’

‘We’ve got to fall back,’ said Amery.

The haze was lifting, and within it shapes moved like shadows. There! One was framed in the rectangular sight.

Belloos squeezed the trigger. He saw the missile shoot away, red and white flame as it accelerated. It struck the Dalek between gunstick and manipulator.

‘Gotcha!’ hissed Bellos. He felt the familiar rush of triumph. More Daleks emerged from the smoke. ‘Get another one in,’ he called over his shoulder. Amery was yelling about pulling back. Bellos was turning towards him when the light smacked him into oblivion.

Abbot flinched backwards. For one nightmarish moment he could see every bone in Bellos’s body. He reflexively closed his eyes, but it stayed as an after-image, white bones against the darkness. Abbot rolled to the left, scrambling to get his feet under him. Amery was screaming somewhere off to the left. Abbot got his eyes open in time to see a Dalek bearing down on him. He tried to get his gun up but he knew it was too late. The gunstick started to point towards him.

The eyepiece exploded in shards of silver, the roar of the submachine-gun in his ear deafened him. A hand grabbed his collar and yanked him backwards.

‘Get under cover,’ said Sergeant Mike Smith. ‘Move it.’

White lightning flashed past his face. Abbot found his feet and ran.

From the shelter of the school gate Ace winced. The energy bolt shot past Mike’s head, barely rnissing. Beside her a soldier was shaking violently, a white-knuckled grip on a rocket launcher. Mike was firing point-blank at the Dalek to little effect. Another Dalek was homing in on him.

‘Give me that,’ snarled Ace and grabbed the rocket-launcher from the soldier. Mike threw himself down, under the level of the first Dalek’s gunstick and rolled, putting the creative between himself and the second Dalek.

Ace brought up the launcher and squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Mike was trying to make his way back to the gateway, zigzagging sharply. The second Dalek glided sideways, turning to get a clear shot.