The Well-Mannered War Part 34

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The Doctor raised his hands placating and sat up. 'I can't die in a ditch with wet trousers on, after five hundred and twenty-five years in the business. It would be most undignified - I'd never hear the end of it.'

'We need... your knowledge...' it continued.

'I need it too,' the Doctor retorted. Inwardly he was reviewing his options, as one hand ferreted through his pocket. The sonic screwdriver was unlikely to deflect an enemy that seemed to operate mostly on psychic wavelengths, and the other contents of his pockets - a yo-yo, an apple core and a magnifying gla.s.s - would be even less effective. 'Besides, out here it's not going to be much use to you.'

'What do you... mean by this?'

The Doctor gestured vaguely at the sky. 'It's past my time, you might say.



"The generations of the living are changed." All my information stopped being useful centuries ago.'

The Cloud made an odd sound that could have been irony. 'Then we will...

travel there...'

The Doctor raised a finger. 'Ah. You mean...'

'Yes.' The answer came from behind him and he whipped round. Admiral Dolne stood at the water's edge, his dead face contorted in a ghoulish grin.

A laser pistol was clenched tight in his hand, and another smaller swarm of flies were buzzing about the rotted flesh of his neck. 'We shall use your TARDIS, Doctor, to bring our food. We shall invade the plentiful timelines of the past. No more shall we be limited to this dark, fruitless backwater, condemned to eternities of hibernation and patient rearing. We shall multiply and grow more powerful, sweep through the inhabited systems.

We shall gorge ourselves on the rotting flesh of the human race.' He staggered forward and brought the pistol down until it was aimed directly at the Doctor's left heart.' And you shall be the instrument of our revenge.'

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n.o.body in the valley knew quite what to say to each other after the Doctor had exited pursued by flies. Fritchoff looked fearfully at Jafrid; Jafrid looked apologetically towards Cadinot; Cadinot managed a meek wave at Dekza.

The atmosphere was rather like that at a party when the host goes to check the dinner leaving a room full of unacquainted guests. The humans knew the Chelonians were proud and would expect them to break the silence.

The Chelonians knew that the humans knew that and so they decided not to break it. Even Fritchoff, who was non-aligned in the conflict, was struck dumb.

How long they could have stood there would never be known, as interruption came from an unexpected quarter. A shuttle, which Fritchoff recognized as the Metralubitan military cruiser normally stored at the command post, emerged noisily from cloud cover and after a quick circle of inspection it descended smoothly, coming to rest on a flat patch of ground beneath a cliff top.

Fritchoff decided it was up to him to take the initiative. He strode forward, trying to look as grave and important as possible, and prepared himself mentally to meet whoever might be in there. The side door of the small c.o.c.kpit opened with a hollow clang, and Harmock stepped out, looking slightly dishevelled in his suit and blinking oddly.

'Well!' said Fritchoff 'Come to survey for yourself the results of your laissez laissez faire faire policies on domestic infringements, have you?' policies on domestic infringements, have you?'

Harmock, after nodding politely at the gathered company, and waving in a rather dazed way at General Jafrid, said, 'I know you, don't I? You used to work in the dome, as a statistician.'

'Yes,' said Fritchoff, 'Where I saw first-hand the squandering of public money on increasingly market-orientated interventionist economic policy strata, while transport and health services were merely -' He became aware that Harmock was staring at him strangely and moving closer.

The next moment Harmock had grabbed his hand and was pumping it up and down. 'Fritchoff, that's it,' he said. 'I remember you. I actually know you, you're a real person.'

Fritchoff grunted, confused. He had rehea.r.s.ed many times everything he would ever say to Harmock should they meet again, and it was a disappointment to find him so agreeable. 'You can't deflect my revolutionary intent by using kindness,' he said, although his heart wasn't in it. 'Kindness and so-called manners are a tool of the bourgeoisie used as a means of identifying and excluding the labouring cla.s.ses.'

The meeting was broken up by more arrivals from the shuttle. In quick succession Fritchoff saw Stokes - the artist who had come to Metralubit just before he had left it - a staggeringly beautiful young woman who had some of the iciness of a Femdroid but moved too urgently to be anything but real flesh and blood, and a small metal box on wheels. These last two, he realized, were surely the Doctor's two friends Romana and K9.

Stokes gestured wide. 'You see. There's no sign of him. He must be waiting back at the TARDIS.'

Romana put her hands on her hips and surveyed the area. 'If we find our enemy we'll find him.'

Suddenly, in contrast to the sullen silence of moments before, there was a general rush of noise and activity. Fritchoff, Jafrid and Cadinot descended on Romana, all talking at once, all desparate to explain their side of the situation.

She held her hands up. 'Wait a moment! One at a time!' She pointed to Cadinot. 'Where's the Doctor?'

Cadinot pointed. 'He went that way. This thing is after him.' He shuddered.

'It's horrific, like a big black cloud-'

K9 sprang into action immediately, trundling off in the direction indicated. 'I will a.s.sist the Master, Mistress,' he called back. 'I am at full capacity.' He moved over the uneven ground with almost laughable slowness. Fritchoff recalled the speed of the Cloud and shook his head sadly.

General Jafrid spoke. 'You are a friend of the Doctor?' She nodded. 'I fear my distrust of him may have led us into great danger.'

Romana held up a hand for silence again. 'Please, listen to me. I'm only going to explain this once. And if anybody has any ideas how to save this situation, feel free to interrupt.'

Fritchoff moved closer. He liked standing near Romana, he decided. Not only because she had the easy authority and crackling presence of a good leader, but also because he hadn't seen a woman in four and a half years.

These considerations meant he didn't pay much attention to the sight, glimpsed out of the comer of his eye, of Stokes slipping away from the small huddled group of survivors.

'We have been... deceived...' DoIne was saying. He stood above the Doctor, his mouth hanging open and letting fall a long string of drool. 'The Femdroids ... of Metralubit ... tricked us ... There is no meat there...'

He jabbed the pistol at the Doctor's chest. 'You shall bring us meat.'

The Doctor wondered how much longer he could keep this conversation going. Even the proudest and most boastful of enemies could be only so long-winded. 'Yes,' he said, eyeing the flies around Dolne nervously, 'tell me again about your plan.'

'We have already... explained it...' said Dolne. 'It is time for you... to die ...'

The Doctor made a complimentary gesture, 'Yes, but it's such a good plan, such a very clever plan. I don't get told a plan like that every day of the week. I may have missed some of the nuances.'

'Soon,' rasped Dolne, 'you will know all... Your dead mind will be one with us' He leant closer and squeezed his finger on the trigger.

'If anybody's thinking of rescuing me,' the Doctor shouted desperately, 'I suggest they get their skates on!'

Suddenly there was a high-pitched squeal of sonic energy, a blast of heat, and a red flash that blinded the Doctor, knocked him off his knees, and sent him rolling over face down in the water. Stamped on to his retina was a vivid after-image of Dolne's body transfixed by a bright bolt of light.

A few seconds later, he was aware of being nudged in the shoulder.

Realizing that he would probably drown if he remained long in this position he rolled over on to his back and blinked the muddy water from his eyes.

There was a searing pain across his chest and his extremities were numb.

'And n.o.body knows,' he mumbled, spitting out dirty water, 'how cold my toes, how cold my toes are growing.' He opened an eye and through a haze of pain saw a glowing red fascia. 'h.e.l.lo, K9, I'm very pleased to see you.'

K9's eyescreen flashed redder but he said nothing.

The Doctor pulled himself up with a mighty effort and looked about. His clothes were soaking and very uncomfortable. Next to him was the body of Dolne, the head torn apart in the middle by K9's ray like a crushed gourd.

There was no sign of the flies. 'The psychic shock of being disconnected from their host caused them to scatter, I suppose,' he said. He patted K9.

'Clever of you to use such a strong burst. Anything less wouldn't even have slowed them down. I -' He raised a finger. 'Ah. You've switched off your speech circuits to conserve power, eh?'

K9 managed a feeble nod.

The Doctor stroked his nose. 'Clever dog.'

K9 shook his head again and waggled his sensors. 'Romana? In trouble?'

said the Doctor, getting to his feet.

K9 nodded and flexed his tail.

'Over there, by the valley?'

K9 nodded again.

The Doctor scooped him up and tucked him under his arm. 'Then we'd better go and lend her a hand, hadn't we?'

They squelched away.

The Onemind reeled, its concentration broken by the shock of disconnection. More and more of the Darkness's component parts were segmented, placing dangerous strains on the non-sentient linking material.

The vacuum pumps, formed from the giant lungs of a methane-breathing species, were stretched to their fullest, the grey capillaries filling with blood to keep the atmosphere in the main chamber temperate.

The remote host is lost, cried the Onememory in a thousand different voices.

We are hungry! We are hungry! Feed us! came the underscore. came the underscore. We must We must have the TARDIS! Take us to the TARDIS! have the TARDIS! Take us to the TARDIS!

The Onemind, driven by internal pressures that threatened to shatter it forever, turned the great bulk of itself in s.p.a.ce and prepared to descend.

The TARDIS was the only solution.

Stokes crouched behind a large rock, his whole frame shuddering, his body beset by all sorts of worrying conditions. Certain that he was far enough away from the others, he went through his pockets, chucking out a variety of old coins, receipts and tickets, until his hand closed around an oddly shaped chunk of clear crystal. It tingled in his hand and a very faint glow came from its depths.

'I've done all I was told,' he hissed at the crystal. 'And you haven't exactly kept your side of the deal. It was all a fake. I wasn't appreciated at all.' He struggled to keep his voice down. 'Are you laughing at me? Am I some sort of celestial joke for you, up there on your cloud? The least you can do is get me away from here, get me to the TARDIS.' There was no reply. Stokes grunted and was about to throw the crystal away when he heard the noise of crunching feet in a familiar, confident stride. He poked his head out from behind the rock and saw the Doctor, K9 tucked under his arm. They pa.s.sed by within feet of him, chatting in an explanatory sort of way, and Stokes felt a pang of guilt.

When he was sure they were out of earshot he lowered himself over the crystal again. 'Your quarrel's with him, not me. Just get me away from here.' His voice broke. 'I don't like it. Please.' He looked up at the dismal sky. Millions of years on and galaxies away from home, with an awful, unnatural death lurking. What had brought him here? He answered himself.

His own desire to be applauded had made him sacrifice all that was familiar and led him on this strange journey.

With this thought came a strange sensation, as if a gentle hand was being placed on his head. He felt it turn his head in a certain direction. At the same time the crystal glowed more brightly in his hand.

He stood up and followed his invisible guide.

Romana had been formally introduced to those gathered in the valley, and had taken her part in the task of bringing them all up to the mark. Both Fritchoff and Jafrid had resisted Harmock's explanation of Galatea's plan at first, but both had started soon to question their memory of events on Metralubit.

'It is strange.' said Fritchoff. 'I remember the dome, but not much else, now I come to think of it.'

Jafrid shook his head. 'I was never permitted to leave the dome and enter the city. But I saw it on the screens and through the windows often enough.

An incredible deception.'

The moment was broken by the Doctor's return to the valley. He bounded into view with a dramatic flourish that was rendered only slightly ridiculous by his sodden state. 'h.e.l.lo, all,' he said. 'That nasty cloud has been dispersed, you'll be glad to hear. And I hope we're friends again.' He nodded to General Jafrid. 'You tried to kill me earlier.'

The General shuffled forward, embarra.s.sed. 'If there is anything that I or my people can do to compensate you for our rashness, Doctor, then name it.'

'There is,' the Doctor said. He put K9 down on the floor. 'Don't mention it again. Besides, it's a good start. Many of my best friends started off wanting to kill me.'

'And others led up to it,' said Romana brightly.

The Well-Mannered War Part 34

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The Well-Mannered War Part 34 summary

You're reading The Well-Mannered War Part 34. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Gareth Roberts already has 572 views.

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