Doctor Who_ Warmonger Part 11

'What's odd about it?'

Hawken rubbed his chin with a ma.s.sive hand. 'It's a pretty scruffy collection of planets, run mostly by pirates, bandits and warlords. Not your usual peace-making types sc.u.m of the galaxy really. This General, whoever he is, must be a pretty persuasive type to get them all pulling together.'

The Doctor smiled. 'If the best people won't talk to you, maybe you have to start with the sc.u.m. I'd like to meet this General. When's the conference?'

'Not finalised yet, but very soon. Might even happen before you go.'

Later that evening, a.s.sistant-Surgeon Drago called in to check on Peri in her room. His manner was tentative and subdued, but he found her unexpectedly friendly.

He told her that her test results were still being processed, and that so far they were looking good. Final results would come through some time tomorrow.

Peri was lying flat on her back in bed and she looked up at him appealingly.

'Could you help me to sit up, Doctor Drago? I'd like something to drink and I'm still feeling pretty weak.'

'Yes, of course,' said Drago eagerly. He leaned over her, hands under her arms, and lifted her up. Peri drew a deep breath which was quite enough to distract Drago from the hand slipping into his tunic pocket...

He settled her against the pillows and poured her a gla.s.s of fruit cordial. He seemed disposed to stay and chat, but Peri leaned back and yawned, eyes closing.

'I seem to be dropping off again. Do stay, Doctor Drago, I'm expecting my friend any minute. He always comes in to say goodnight...'

Drago jumped up and scuttled towards the door. 'Sorry, must go, ward rounds you know.' He hurried off.

Peri opened her eyes and looked at the silver disc in her palm. Now all she had to do was wait.

When she'd waited as long as she could bear, and everything seemed quiet, Peri got out of bed, put on her robe and slipped out of her room. She padded barefoot along the stone corridors, seeing no one, and came at length to the dead-end with the hidden door.

She stood for a moment studying the rough stone wall, and looked down at the gleaming disc in her hand. 'Here's the key, but where's the keyhole?'

She tried to remember the spot in the wall where Drago had applied the disc, and ran her fingers over the general area. There was a cunningly disguised recess, the same size as the disc. She fitted the disc into the recess and a door slid back. Recovering the disc, Peri went inside, and the door closed behind her.

She was in a small, stone-walled ante-room, with another door beyond.

In the centre of the room was a stone bench on which lay a sheet-covered form.

Peri felt a pang of disappointment. Was this all a mortuary and a corpse? Was Solon perfecting some revolutionary new method of embalming? There had to be more to Project Z than that.

Steeling herself, Peri went over to the sheet and pulled it back.

A dead face looked up at her.

It was the face of a tough-looking man in middle age. An incredibly deep scar made a crevice across the forehead, and a stubble of grey beard covered the jutting chin. Peri laid her left hand on the wounded forehead.

It was icy cold. The man was dead all right, no doubt about that. Then the dead eyes opened and glared redly up at her, and a dead hand clamped around her wrist.

Chapter Seven.

Revenge Peri screamed and jumped back. Still holding her wrist, the ghastly thing on the bench lurched to its feet. The sheet fell away revealing the whole form a form fully as ghastly as its face.

The naked body was seamed and scarred with the signs of terrible wounds. Worse than that, the whole thing was lopsided, torso and limbs curiously mismatched. The arm of the hand that held her was white, the other a mottled green.

Desperately, Peri tried to wrench herself free. For a moment the thing resisted, then it seemed to loosen its grip. But her left wrist felt strangely heavy.

She looked down at her wrist and her eyes opened wide in horrified disbelief. The hand that had held her hadn't released its grip. It had simply pulled away from the creature's arm. It dangled now from her wrist, ending in a jagged stump.

Peri shook her arm furiously, but the dead fingers maintained their grip. Suddenly she became aware that the dead thing was staggering towards her with a lurching, uneven gait.

She turned and ran for the door.

Fortunately, the door on this side was faced in metal, not rock, and the key-recess easily found. She pressed home the disc and recovered it, and the door slid back. Peri ran through it and fled back along the corridors at top speed, not daring to look behind her. She was all too aware of the horrible thing that dangled from her wrist, and she shook the wrist as she ran, trying frantically to dislodge it, but the cold fingers held fast.

Not until she reached the door of her room did she dare to look back and was relieved to see the corridor silent and empty.

Perhaps the door had closed again before the thing was able to get through.

Safe in her room, she renewed her efforts to free her wrist from its ghastly appendage. After several savagely violent shakes of her wrist the hand still clung to her. Gritting her teeth, Peri grabbed one of the scaly fingers and bent it back until it snapped. She attacked another finger and another... At last the hand's grip slackened and it dropped to the floor.

Peri watched in horror as the fist clenched and unclenched convulsively several times. At last it lay still.

She looked round and saw the crystal bowl containing fruit on her bedside table. She tipped out the remaining fruit, grabbed a hand-towel and scooped the hand into the bowl. Shuddering, she covered the bowl with the towel, carried it over to a corner locker, and shoved it to the back of the top shelf. She closed the locker and wedged a chair under the handle.

Peri went into the adjoining bathroom and held her left wrist under the basin tap. Warm soapy water gushed out and she scrubbed her wrist till the skin was sore.

Then she went to bed and lay s.h.i.+vering under the covers.

She drifted at last into an uneasy sleep, dreaming that the hand had climbed out of the locker and was crawling across the floor towards her.

The Doctor lifted the cloth from the top of the bowl and studied the ghastly object inside with scientific interest. He produced a silver propelling pencil from his pocket and poked it gently. The hand didn't move. It simply looked dead now, decayed even, and it was giving off a faint, unpleasant smell.

'Fascinating,' he murmured. He looked across at Peri who was sitting up in bed, white-faced and hollow-eyed. 'Well, you've had a very nasty experience, Peri,' he said, not particularly sympathetically. 'And thoroughly well deserved if I may say so.'

'Thanks a bunch,' said Peri bitterly.

'Tell me again about this thing you saw. Could it have been, oh, I don't know, the results of a botched transplant operation?'

'No, it couldn't,' said Peri positively. 'It was something quite different a sort of horrible zombie.'

'And it was human humanoid anyway?'

'More or less. But it was all kind of mixed up, lopsided, as if the bits didn't fit together.'

The Doctor nodded, studying the hand. 'The evidence supports you there. This hand isn't human.'

'Don't you see, Doctor? This proves that Solon is carrying out some ghastly experiment.'

'We knew that anyway,' said the Doctor impatiently. 'In theory at least.'

'We did?'

'Your first bit of snooping established that much. Why couldn't you let well alone?'

'But we've got proof now. We've got to do something about it.'

'Why? It's still no business of ours.'

'We've got to find out what Solon's up to, what Project Z is all about.'

'My dear girl, the purpose of Project Z is perfectly obvious.

The creation, or rather the re-creation, of life. Every mad scientist's dream since dear old Doctor Frankenstein.'

'Then he's got to be stopped!'

'Why?' said the Doctor again.

'You remember what Solon was saying to Drago, when I overheard? He said Project Z was going to make him master of the galaxy. Don't you see, Doctor? He's going to make a whole army of those ghastly things and take over everything.'

'I doubt it,' said the Doctor. He nodded towards the dead hand. 'Not with this standard of workmans.h.i.+p anyway. What's the use of a soldier who keeps going all to pieces?'

'Maybe he's only just starting. Suppose he improves the process? Suppose the experiment finally succeeds?'

'It won't,' said the Doctor definitely. He leaned forward urgently. 'I've told you before, Peri, there are excellent reasons why I mustn't interfere in Solon's life. All I want to do is to get you well and then get you away from here, leaving Solon to work out his own destiny. As it happens, I've a pretty good idea what that will be. And it definitely isn't ruling the galaxy with an army of zombies!'

Peri looked curiously at him. 'There's something going on, isn't there? You've met Solon before.'

'In a way.'

'So why doesn't he recognise you?'

'I look very different now. Besides, it was only before for me, it's after for him.'

Peri looked baffled. 'Doctor, what the h.e.l.l are you talking about?'

The Doctor held up his hand. 'Never mind that now. Just take my word for it. If I intervene too much in Solon's life, it could distort the entire timestream and I'm in quite enough trouble with my own people already.'

'So we just leave Solon to get on with it?'

The Doctor nodded. 'We both know he's a nasty piece of work. But don't forget, he's also doing good, saving lives every day including yours. If he likes to mess about with corpses in his spare time well, it doesn't do the dead any harm, and every boy needs a hobby. Once you're well, I'll persuade Hawken to give me access to the TARDIS and we'll be gone.'

'All right,' said Peri wearily. 'Whatever you say, Doctor.' She pointed to the hand in the bowl. 'What do we do with my little souvenir?'

The Doctor threw the towel back over the bowl. 'I shall return it to its rightful owner with apologies for any inconvenience. If I can convince Solon we're not interested, he'll leave us alone.'

Peri produced the silver disc from the pocket of her robe.

'And this?'

The Doctor thought for a moment. 'Next time Drago comes back, tell him you found it in your bed. Say it must have dropped out of his pocket.'

Peri dropped the disc on her bedside table. 'He'll never believe that!'

'Maybe not, but what can he say? With any luck he'll keep quiet about the whole business, he won't want Solon to know he ever lost it.' The Doctor picked up the fruit bowl and its gruesome contents. 'I'll come and see you later this afternoon.'

He turned as Drago came into the room. 'Ah, there you are, Mr Drago. Don't worry, I'm just off. No more blanket baths now!'

He strolled away.

Peri couldn't help smiling. Since his confrontation with the Doctor, Drago's checkups had consisted of a bit of pulse-taking and a few cursory questions.

Peri didn't have a chance to give him the silver disc-key. He spotted it on her bedside table, rushed over and s.n.a.t.c.hed it up.

'Where did you get this?'

Peri gave him her best wide-eyed innocent look. 'I found it in my bedclothes. Is it yours?'

'I've been looking everywhere. How did it end up in your bed?'

'I know,' said Peri. 'You remember that time you helped me to sit up? It must have dropped out then.'

Drago frowned. 'I don't see how. I always put it away carefully.'

'What is it?' asked Peri. 'Is it something important?'

To Drago's relief, his wrist-com buzzed urgently. He held it to his ear. 'Yes?' His expression changed. 'At once, Surgeon-General.' He turned to Peri. 'The Surgeon-General wants to see me immediately,' he said importantly. 'I'll check on you later.' He held up the disc. 'Best say nothing about this.'

'I won't if you won't,' said Peri.

Drago hurried from the room.

A few minutes later he hurried into Solon's luxurious office, puffing slightly since he'd run all the way. 'You sent for me, Surgeon General?'

'Close the door you fool,' snarled Solon.

Drago obeyed and turned to face the full blast of Solon's fury. 'By what right do you interfere with my experiments?'