Doctor Who_ Warmonger Part 12

'I don't understand,' stammered Drago.

Solon lowered his voice, but it was still shaking with anger. 'I took advantage of a few spare moments to check up on Project Z. Do you know what I found?'

'Surgeon-General, I have no idea.'

'I found my latest and most promising subject huddled on the floor close to the door. Someone must have stimulated it from its dormant state. What's more, part of the subject was missing the hand. What the h.e.l.l are you up to? Thinking of stealing a march on me, setting up on your own?'

Drago was almost weeping. 'I a.s.sure you, Surgeon-General, I haven't visited the Project Z lab since our last visit together.'

'It must have been you. That door is impregnable, and you have the only key besides mine. Haven't lost it, have you?'

Drago went pale. He took the disc-key from his tunic pocket. 'No. Surgeon-General, I still have my key.'

'Then it was you!'

Miserably Drago shook his head. 'For some hours last night, the key was out of my possession.'

'What are you blathering about?'

Drago told him the story of his recent encounter with Peri.

'She said the disc must have fallen from my pocket earlier, when I was helping her to sit up in bed.'

'She stole it, of course,' said Solon. 'While you were ogling her charms, you lecherous fool.'

'I'm sure I would have noticed...'

'Noticed! You wouldn't have noticed if she'd stolen your tunic and s.h.i.+rt as well. She must have the hand!'

'I encountered the Doctor as well he was leaving the girl as I arrived. He was carrying something in a bowl covered by a towel.'

'So the Doctor has it. If he takes it to Hawken...' Solon's voice trailed away. He sat staring into s.p.a.ce for what seemed like a very long time. Drago watched him, not daring to move or speak.

At last Solon spoke. 'Drago, I am a genius.'

'The whole galaxy knows that, Surgeon-General.'

Accepting the compliment as no less than his due, Solon went on, 'I have conceived a plan. A plan which will punish the girl, deal with the Doctor and, perhaps, ensure the success of Project Z.'

He unlocked a drawer in his desk and took out a small one-use hypodermic.

'Inject the girl with this, Drago. In the upper right arm. Let me know when it takes effect.'

Drago took the hypodermic and studied it. His eyes widened. 'It may kill her.'

Solon smiled. 'That's a risk she'll have to take.'

Chapter Eight.

Relapse Tired after her eventful and restless night, Peri was dozing when Drago came quietly into her room. She was vaguely aware of him pus.h.i.+ng up the sleeve of her nightgown, and of the tiniest of pinp.r.i.c.ks in her upper arm.

'What's going on?' she muttered.

'Just a vitamin supplement,' said Drago soothingly. 'It may make you a little drowsy...'

He stood watching by the bed as Peri drifted back into sleep.

Then he drew up a chair and settled down to wait, eyes fixed on Peri's sleeping form.

After a while, Peri began stirring uneasily. A red flush spread along her bare right arm. She began writhing and twisting uneasily and beads of sweat broke out on her forehead.

'Such a pity,' whispered Drago. 'Such a waste...'

Solon was still at his vast ornate desk when the Doctor strolled in, brus.h.i.+ng past an outraged secretary. He was carrying a towel-covered crystal bowl.

'Ah, Doctor Frankenstein, I presume,' said the Doctor cheerily. He put the bowl on the desk in front of Solon. 'Your property, I believe.'

Solon lifted the cloth, studied the decaying claw-like hand for a moment and then replaced the cloth. 'The fingers are broken,' he complained peevishly. 'Your young friend's irresponsible behaviour has ruined a valuable experiment.'

The Doctor sat down, very much at home. 'Oh, I doubt it.

Any experiment that tries to graft a reptilian hand onto a human arm is more idiotic than valuable.'

'Interspecies transplantation is the whole purpose of the experiment, Mr Smith. Compatible limbs and organs are not always available. Better a reptilian hand than none at all.'

'No question of a lunatic attempt to create a zombie army then? Just a humanitarian experiment to help the wounded soldier?'

'What else?'

'You can tell that story if you want to,' said the Doctor. 'I wouldn't give much for your chances of being believed. They're a sceptical lot in the Intergalactic Medical a.s.sociation.' He held up his hand, cutting off Solon's angry reply. 'Don't worry, you won't have to tell it. Complete Miss Brown's cure and I'll keep quiet about the whole thing. So will Miss Brown, and there'll be no more attempts to interfere.'

Solon looked up and the Doctor studied his face. He ought to have been crushed and resentful but he wasn't. Instead there was a gleam of triumph in his eye. The Doctor had an uneasy feeling he was missing something.

'I'd like to accept your generous offer, Mr Smith,' said Solon.

'Unfortunately I may no longer be in a position to do so.'

'What does that mean?'

'Your rash young friend broke into a dangerous environment while still in a convalescent condition. She took no precautions, wore no protective clothing. There have been consequences.'

The Doctor jumped up. 'Consequences? What consequences? She was fine when I left her just now.'

'These things take time to develop. Doctor Drago is with her now; he's extremely concerned about her condition.'

'He'll be concerned about his own if there's anything wrong with Peri,' said the Doctor. 'Come on!'

He hurried from the room. Solon followed, a half-smile on his lips.

The Doctor looked down at Peri, his face appalled. She was barely conscious, flushed and sweating, writhing uneasily on the hospital bed. Her right arm was bright scarlet and badly swollen, and the upper part was swathed in bandages. 'What's happened to her?' he demanded.

'She's picked up some infection that's triggered tissue rejection,' said Solon. 'The toxins are spreading through her entire body.'

'Do something for her!'

'We are doing all we can, Mr Smith. No physician likes to lose a patient. But her chances aren't good.'

The Doctor glared suspiciously from one to the other of them. He sensed, he knew knew that something was wrong. Perhaps they'd given her something but what? If he didn't know the drug, how could he find the antidote? He could try to choke the truth out of Solon, but if he failed, Peri would die. that something was wrong. Perhaps they'd given her something but what? If he didn't know the drug, how could he find the antidote? He could try to choke the truth out of Solon, but if he failed, Peri would die.

The Doctor decided he was helpless. He had medical knowledge of his own, but nothing to compare with that of Solon.Was he going to stand here and watch these two murder Peri before his eyes? He forced himself to be calm. If this was a plot, then it was due to more than pointless malice. Solon wanted something.

'There's just one possibility,' said Solon. 'One chance if you're willing to help.'

'I'll do anything I can.'

'As you know, Karn is the home of the Sisterhood of the Flame. They are the only source of an elixir the Elixir of Life.

They dole it out sparingly, but its properties are miraculous. A small supply of the Elixir would undoubtedly save the life of your friend.'

So that was the deal Peri's life in return for the Elixir.

'Very well,' said the Doctor. 'I'll do what I can. But I promise you this. If Peri's dead when I return, or if she doesn't recover afterwards, I'll kill you both.'

He left the room, leaving a stunned silence behind him. 'He means it,' whispered Drago. 'I saw death in his eyes.'

'Nonsense,' said Solon uneasily. He took a hypodermic and a phial from his pocket. 'Give her a little of the antidote not too much, just enough to stabilise her. I want her exactly like this or perhaps just a little worse when Mr Smith returns.'

'And if he doesn't return?'

'Let her die.'

Dressed for Karn weather in boots and a heavy fur coat, the Doctor tramped along the snowy pa.s.s that led to the Temple of the Flame.

Coat and boots had been issued from stores by Hawken, who had been more than helpful when the Doctor had explained his desperate need. He'd readily extended the Doctor's parole beyond the bounds of the Castle.

'I'd offer you transport Mr Smith, but nothing can fly or hover amongst those peaks. You can get there and back in a day on foot or a week if the weather closes in. It's pretty good at the moment. I'll draw you a map...'

'It's all right,' said the Doctor. 'I know the way.'

Hawken had looked curiously at him, but had made no comment.

The Doctor trudged on through the mountain pa.s.s, huddled deep into the fur coat, snow flurries stinging his face. If this weather was 'pretty good', he'd hate to be on Karn when it was bad. But then, of course, he had been or rather would be.

He wondered what sort of reception the Sisterhood would give him. On his previous visit previous for him anyway they'd been distinctly hostile. But by that time, in what to them was the distant future, their power and influence had been shattered by galactic war. The embittered survivors had retreated to their sacred Temple of the Flame. With the source of the Elixir apparently drying up, they had become paranoid and suspicious, convinced that any stranger had come to steal what remained of the precious fluid.

Now, in this earlier time, their power and influence was still at its peak and the Elixir was in full flow. Perhaps that would make them more generous. It might, of course, make them more arrogant, ready to crush anyone they even suspected might be a danger to them.

The Doctor was reasonably confident of being able to counter any psychic force the Sisters might bring to bear. But no amount of mental conditioning is proof against a well-placed rock on the head. He glanced apprehensively upwards, but there was no avalanche, not yet. Encouraged, the Doctor went on his way. He came at last to a cave entrance set into the mountainside.

The cave looked ordinary enough, but the Doctor knew that it led to a tunnel, and the tunnel to an ante-chamber deep in the heart of the mountain. Beyond the ante-chamber was the Temple of the Flame.

The Doctor drew a deep breath. Then, doing his best to project feelings of peace and goodwill, he went into the cave.

In the temple, old Maren sat on her throne of rock before the bronze gates that concealed the sacred flame. The gloom of the temple was illuminated by the flames of blazing torches set in brackets on the rock walls. Black-robed figures stood motionlessly about the temple.

'He comes,' she said.

The young woman at Maren's side said calmly, 'What is your will, Reverend Mother? Shall we kill him?'

She nodded to the Sisterhood guards beside the door. They carried long tridents with needle-sharp points.

Maren considered. 'Not yet, Ohica. He knows the risk. I am curious to know why he comes here.'

'Can you not sense his purpose, Reverend Mother?'

Maren shook her head. 'His inner mind is s.h.i.+elded. But I detect no danger. Only goodwill, determination and, beneath, great anguish.'

They waited patiently while the Doctor traversed the tunnel, the ante-chamber, and came at last to the temple. Pa.s.sing between the guards, he came and stood before Maren's throne, bowing respectfully.

'Once again I come to beg for your help, Reverend Mother.

Not for myself, but for my companion.'

'Were the talents of Mehendri Solon not sufficient?' asked Maren ironically.

'At first, yes, Reverend Mother. But now infection has set in.

Without the Elixir, my friend will die before nightfall.'

'Solon tells you this?'

'Yes, Reverend Mother.'

'Solon constantly pesters us for the Elixir. At first we gave freely, believing it was needed for healing. Then we discovered that he was using it to further his foul experiments on the bodies of the dead. We disapprove of such abominations and since then we have denied him. Have you considered that this may be some trick of Solon's to obtain more?'