Doctor Who_ Warmonger Part 29

'There's no such thing.'

'We've liberated a dozen planets from Morbius's rule,' said the Doctor. 'We've saved hundreds, thousands of people from rape and torture and slavery. We wouldn't have achieved that by telling Morbius's soldiers that they were being very nasty and would they please go away.'

Peri felt muddled. 'I suppose not. All the same...'

The Doctor laughed and put a hand on her bare shoulder.

'Don't worry, Peri, some questions don't have satisfactory answers.' He slumped down into a chair. 'All the same, you're quite right. I do like being the Supremo far too much.

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to stop. It's one thing giving your life for a good cause. But giving your soul...'

He stared moodily into s.p.a.ce.

Peri sat very still, wrestling with confused feelings. She could still feel the touch of the Doctor's hand on her shoulder. She thought about the mild, friendly Doctor she had first known

and realised that this ruthless, tormented Supremo aroused very different feelings in her.

Ensign Vidal came quietly into the room, looking in mild puzzlement at the two silent figures.

'My apologies for disturbing you, Supremo, but your next appointment has arrived. She apologises for the lateness of the hour, but she had a difficult journey. Will you see her?' He glanced thoughtfully at Peri, stretched out on her chaise-longue.

'Or shall I tell her that you are otherwise engaged?'

The Doctor stood up. 'That would be rude. Tell her I'll be free in just a moment. See that a guest room is prepared for Miss Brown.'

Vidal bowed and left as silently as he had arrived.

Peri stood up, standing close to the Doctor. 'This guest of yours... Who is she?'

'A sort of diplomatic emissary,' said the Doctor vaguely.

'She's come for a late-night conference. Sorry to break up the party, Peri, but our business is urgent.'

'I bet it is,' said Peri. She moved closer to him. 'Send her away. We don't need her.'

The Doctor reached out and held her close to him for a moment. Then he shook his head quickly and straightened his arms, thrusting her away. 'No.'

'Why not?' she whispered.

He released her and stepped back. 'There's a saying on Earth, Peri try everything once except incest and folk-dancing.

I tried folk-dancing once, round a maypole in a place called Devil's End. It didn't work out too well.'

Vidal came into the room, escorting a tall, voluptuous blonde, who looked at Peri with icy indignation.

Nodding to his guest, the Doctor said, 'See Miss Brown to her quarters, Vidal. Sleep well, Peri.'

Not knowing if she was angry or relieved, Peri let Vidal escort her to the door.

As she left, she heard the blonde say, 'Thank you for agreeing to see me, Supremo. This is a great honour.'

'Not at all,' said the Supremo. 'I a.s.sure you, the pleasure is mine...'

Peri was a little unsteady on her feet, and Vidal took her arm as he escorted her along the corridor.

'You have known the Supremo for some time, Miss Brown.

Before he took command?' he asked.

'I knew him before his military phase, yes.'

'I hope no distress was caused to you by...' He glanced over his shoulder.

'Heavens no,' said Peri sleepily. 'The Supremo and I are just like brother and sister worse luck...'

Breakfasting alone next morning, the Doctor looked up as Vidal showed Peri into the room. All things considered, he looked disgustingly fit and healthy. He greeted her without any trace of embarra.s.sment.

'There you are, Peri. I like your new outfit.'

Peri was wearing a set of black s.p.a.ce overalls, neatly altered to fit by the flags.h.i.+p's tailor. They made, she thought, quite an attractive trouser suit.

'Found them by my bed when I woke up,' she said. 'You certainly run an efficient s.h.i.+p, Doctor.'

'It's not me, it's my crew. They have very high sartorial standards. Come and have some breakfast. Fruit juice, porridge, bacon and eggs? Your Sylvana farmers insisted on giving us a whole s.h.i.+pload of fresh produce.'

Peri shuddered. 'Just fruit juice please,' she said as she sank into a chair. 'I seem to be feeling a little fragile this morning.'

The Doctor poured her a gla.s.s of fruit juice. 'We did make rather a night of it, didn't we?' he said. 'Still, it was a celebration.'

He patted her hand. 'It's nice to have you back, Peri. Sorry it took so long.' He became aware that Vidal was still hovering.

'Yes?'

'This report has just arrived by s.p.a.ce-com, Supremo. In view of its importance, I took the liberty of bringing you a hard-copy transcript.' He handed the Doctor a roll of thin plastipaper and withdrew.

'Excuse me for a moment, Peri,' said the Doctor.

He unrolled the paper like a scroll and studied it intently. A few minutes later he tossed it onto the table, where it rolled itself up again with a snap.

'Aha!' said the Doctor, with evident satisfaction.

Peri took a sip of exotic fruit juice. 'Aha what?'

'It worked!'

'What did?'

'My plan.'

'What plan?'

'We, the Alliance, have been following in Morbius's footsteps,' explained the Doctor. 'Liberating planets more or less in the order he conquered them. As fast as his empire expanded, we were rolling it up behind him. I knew it'd get on his nerves eventually and it has.'

Peri frowned. 'So how do you know this plan's worked?'

'Because we've stopped Morbius or rather, he's stopped himself. His march of doom across the galaxy has stopped. He's established himself on his latest conquest, a planet called Tanith, and settled down, making no attempt to expand his empire.

What's more, he's pulling back troops, equipment and supplies from the planets he's conquered the ones we haven't already liberated, that is. He's preparing to turn and fight. And we're ready for him now.'

'So what will happen?' asked Peri. 'Some kind of s.p.a.ce battle?'

'It's quite hard to have a battle in s.p.a.ce,' said the Doctor.

'It's too big. It's hard for the opponents to find each other.'

's.p.a.ce is big,' murmured Peri. 'Really big. You may think it's a long way down to the off-licence, but that's peanuts to s.p.a.ce.'

The Doctor looked baffled. 'Sorry?'

'Quotation from an old Earth sage,' explained Peri. 'Go on.'

'Then there's the complication of hypers.p.a.ce,' the Doctor went on.

'Ah!' said Peri.

'Galactic distances are so vast that ordinary rocket-drive only enables you to visit the planet next door,' explained the Doctor.

He was well into his tutorial mode by now. 'For galactic travel, galactic empires, you need some kind of hyperdrive.' He picked up the scroll and unrolled it. 'Look! The ends of this strip of paper are a long way apart. But if I fold the paper like this...' He touched the ends of the paper together. '. . They're next door to each other. That's what hyperdrive does it folds s.p.a.ce. So you see the problem.'

'I do?'

'Imagine two opposing battle fleets heading towards each other in s.p.a.ce. Chances are they won't even find each other. If they do, they'll whizz past each other at incredible speeds, going in opposite directions no brakes on a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p and have to start looking for each other all over again. And on top of all that, either fleet or both could disappear into hypers.p.a.ce in seconds.'

'Tricky,' said Peri.

'That's why s.p.a.ce battles are fought around planets, Peri, habitable ones mostly. In the end victory depends on what the Duke of Wellington called "that article" the common foot-soldier.' The Doctor got up and started pacing about. 'But which planet will Morbius choose? Will he sit tight on Tanith and wait for us to come to him? Will he make the hyper-jump to some nearby planet and hope to surprise us?'

Peri's head was spinning. 'Search me! I never thought when we were on Karn '

The Doctor swung round and grabbed her shoulders. 'Of course! Well done, Peri! He'll go back to Karn. He said he'd return with an army. And he's got to go back to secure the Elixir of Life to bribe his followers. That's it, Peri. We must leave at once. The last battle will take place on Karn!'

Book III

The Last Battle

Chapter One.

Race for Karn.

Morbius paced to and fro in the war room of his flags.h.i.+p. It was not, according to his intelligence reports, and to his immense chagrin, as impressive a flags.h.i.+p as that of the hated Supremo.

But it was a handsome vessel all the same and its war room was the ultimate in hi-tech luxury.

There was no conference table, however. Morbius didn't hold conferences, he issued commands. Its most striking feature was its extensively mirrored walls. From anywhere in the war room Morbius could see his reflection full length, head and shoulders, full-face, left and right profiles...

He took a rea.s.suring glance at his left profile, the one slightly preferred, and turned to the full-length mirror to take in the details of his gorgeous sky-blue uniform gold epaulettes, gold braid, scarlet sash, medals and orders (self-awarded), all in place.

He glanced at the scanner, which was showing a series of ever-changing views of the chaos all around the flags.h.i.+p. Electra, the capital of Tanith, had once been one of the most beautiful cities in the galaxy, famous for its ca.n.a.ls and exotic gardens. But the citizens of Electra had made the mistake of offering strong resistance, and Morbius's s.p.a.ce-cannon had pounded it into submission. Now it was little more than a heap of blazing rubble.

Morbius turned away from the scanner with a nod of satisfaction. He felt no trace of compunction. On the contrary, the fate of Electra would serve as a useful object lesson. Word of such events spread rapidly, and the next planet he attacked would be more reasonable.

His face darkened as he remembered that there would be no new planet for a while. Now he must halt the expansion of his empire, turn in his tracks to smash this insolent swine of a Supremo.

He resumed his restless pacing, turning over old worries in his mind.

'Who is he?' he wondered for the thousandth time. 'Where the devil does he come from? Is he a Time Lord? Myself apart, the Time Lords aren't a martial race...'

Grimoire came into the war room, his black cloak contrasting strangely with the peac.o.c.k brilliance of his master.

'Fleet's ready for departure, General.'

'Marshal!' snarled Morbius. He had promoted himself on learning the new t.i.tle of his hated rival. Supremo, indeed!

'Fleet's ready for departure Marshal,' said Grimoire. His dead-white face was as impa.s.sive as ever, but there was a hint of amus.e.m.e.nt in the deep-set red eyes. 'Intelligence report,' he went on. 'The Alliance has completed the conquest of Sylvana.'