Doctor Who: Combat Rock (30 page)

Something caught in the incendiary. Something big. In a frenzy of burning pain it came at him, driven from its hiding place in a hole beneath the bushes by the heat and the smoke.

Tigus swung the gun.

The massive grey Slinker waddled at him with surprising speed, its flat, blunt head jerking from side to side in distress.

The forearms, thick as Sumo wrestlers, lifted from the ground to embrace the guerrilla, raking cloth and strips of flesh from his back.

The energy weapon discharged, the bolt wild. The Slinker closed its jaws firmly around Tigus’s head, wrenched sideways, snatched the Papul’s head free from the shoulders.

The creature trampled over the decapitated body, on towards the cool lake, crunching on its mouthful.

The inferno hadn’t reached the temple yet. But the guards could see through the window holes there wouldn’t be much time before it did. They also saw their leader devoured by a Hole Slinker, and the evil man who was the worst killer of all coming toward them, dragging his woman.

All that was enough to put them off their guard, and get them quivering with indecision. But they still had two rifles between them, and plenty of arrows. In their confusion they forgot about the hostages. Wemus had released Drew and dropped him gasping on the floor. The guards had ignored the struggle, more intent on keeping abreast of the action outside, which was of far more importance to them. The last thing they expected was an attack from the cowardly Drew.

Rubbing his bruised throat, and sheepishly trying not to look at Wemus or Wina again, the blond man had spotted a bone knife dropped by one of Tigus’s men in their disarray.

Now he found an outlet for his frustration, and leaping up, jammed it between a guard’s shoulder blades as the rebel peered out of the window, and leaned on it hard. The guerrilla dropped his rifle. Drew caught it, let the OPG rebel fall.

The other three guards were turning. Drew shot one in the groin. Ejected the spent shell, shot another in his left eye. The third backed away stupidly as Drew ejected. The rebel lugged the door open in his panic and bolted, colliding with Twist outside. There was a bark of Luger fire and the guard re-entered the room, his head half-shorn away.

Bad acid, man.

the baddest

scored it on a satellite off Jenggel before they hauled in.

Been saving it for combat. Best time, man. Psychedelic jungle, man: combat trip.

The flames frenzy of beauty caressing the trees painting the skies. Smoke toke poke an eye hell baby. Laughing at it all on the inside of course dying out on the outside where it mattered no frock no cock

no combat rock.

Look at my fingers man. Fingers of a fiddler angler looking for fish right from the trees, see em grow there man but they’re dying cos they got no air. Wham bam thank you man, and another one bites the dust. Who? Saw? Grave?

More? Pan coming.

Cominggggggg angggggryyy oggggre, chill out, man, you got hell head up there

hello.

‘Hello...?

Pan stopped in front of Twist, who was wandering around in circles talking to himself outside the temple. His chemical-blasted eyes fused with Pan’s long enough for the pilot to recognize him and frame his greeting.

‘Guess what, Twist? There ain’t no miracles.’ Pan shot him through the head and dragged Victoria into the temple.

He scanned the interior, Luger swinging to cover any potential flicker of aggression.

Two Papuls, one Indoni female, and...

‘All right, Pan.’ Drew was holding a projectile rifle, pointing it at the other three. ‘Took your time getting here.’

Pan said nothing.

‘You
know
him?’ Victoria asked Drew in amazement and disgust.

‘Course I do, dozy bitch.’ Drew looked proud of the association. ‘I’m one of the boys. Sent on a special mission to locate the Krallik, posing as a tourist, deep in OPG territory.

Bound to get caught now, weren’t we? All part of the plan.

Got a signal activator hidden up my backside for when I found him. I’m one of ‘em. One of the boys.’

Pan smiled. Said nothing.

‘Upstairs, Pan. The Krallik’s upstairs.’ Drew pointed at the ladder leading to the hatch in the ceiling.

Pan shot him too. Drew’s fried body hit the bamboo floor next to Kepennis, who raised his head as if from a long doze.

‘Did you
really
think you were one of the boys?’ Pan grinned and tutted. ‘That’s... quite funny.’

He looked up at the hatch. He beamed at the hostages, poked Victoria with his Luger. ‘What are we waiting for?

Let’s see if the Krallik wants to come out to play.’

‘I’m afraid you’re beaten, Krallik,’ the Doctor said. The sounds of battle were not so concentrated now, but the roar of flames eating the jungle was becoming increasingly louder.

‘Afraid...? You
should
be afraid,’ the Krallik whispered hoarsely. ‘Independence Day is here...’

‘Independence Day?’ The Doctor looked nervously behind him as smoke began to ease through the cracks in the temple walls. Maybe Tigus had gone out to help protect the temple, and was no longer guarding the antechamber. He edged slowly backwards.

‘... is coming. The gods declared it should be so.’ The Krallik rocked more slowly now, as if the composite monstrosity were focusing its emotions. ‘They foretold this dry season would mark an end to Indoni rule and offworld influence in Papul. This season my land reverts to its people.’

‘The gods?’ echoed the Doctor. ‘Don’t you mean the fungus?’ He pulled the piece of purple growth he’d bitten into earlier from his pocket. ‘It’s alive, isn’t it? A sentient organism that feeds on the cortex. And what does it give you in return? Delusions of grandeur? Independence Day? They are the same thing, aren’t they? You’ve been used by a toadstool!’ The Doctor took another careful step backwards.

The Krallik’s candle was burning lower, still held in the prostitute hand. The peeling red fingernails reflected the glow.

The Krallik was silent. The inane rocking slowed even more.

‘Must have seemed wonderful though, before you lost sight of what you were doing... The fungus supplied you with a nice bag of tricks... powers of long-distance telepathy?

Mind-manipulation over those who’ve digested it in lesser quantities than yourself? Am I close? And then there are the dead chieftain reanimation stunts, aren’t there? To make believe you’ve resurrected your ancestors to allow the gods to speak through them, himm? Certainly fooled the natives. How did you do that? Let me think..’ Another shuffle backwards.

‘A tiny device with a recorded message in the Mumi’s mouth, perhaps? And what about the snakes? Oh, of course, there would have been a crude catapult device fitted inside the Mumi’s throats, I shouldn’t wonder. The reptiles were probably imprisoned in the hollowed out body cavities, weren’t they? Then just pop the head back in place with a few stitches when no-one’s looking... very crafty.’

He hoped his flow of words was distracting the Krallik from his gradual retreat, and carried on regardless: ‘The snake catapults and recordings were activated by motion sensors, I suppose. The eye sockets would undoubtedly be a good place for those, wouldn’t they? Well, am I right? Quite ingenious, I must say. I really must take my hat off to you.’

He risked another look behind him. The curtain was invisible in the gloom, however, and he had no way of knowing how far away it was. The last thing he wanted to do was become entangled in the folds again.

‘Ingenious, yes...’ he continued, to no response whatsoever, which was somewhat alarming. ‘Even if somewhat hypocritical: you used the very same offworld technology you claim to despise.’ Again, no reaction. ‘But maybe you’re too far gone to appreciate the irony of the situation... the fungus has extracted a price, hasn’t it? Well, no, you’re probably not even aware of it, of course. It’s eaten away at your mind for far too long. This growth,’ and here he flung the fungus into the pool of wavering light in front of the Krallik’s stool,’is nothing less than a sanity assassin.’ The Doctor lowered his voice, and as he warmed to his theme he actually forgot about leaving the room for the moment. ‘You were probably a good man once, weren’t you? A good man, who had very, very bad things done to you and your family.

But this growth has turned you into a monster, hasn’t it? Is that what you envisioned when you created the OPG to free your land? Your righteousness has become dementia. Dreams of freedom and justice replaced by visions of blood, and acts of obscenity. Independence Day... the gods, or should I say the fungus, told you that was imminent – but have you considered the possibility that all Independence Day really means is the paranoid sections of your brain finally being laid bare...?’

The Doctor sighed. There was still no response. The prostitute’s hand continued to hold the candle, not moving at all now

‘But then, I’m only really talking to the monkey, aren’t I?’

He placed his hands on his braces and tilted his head back, fired up by his own verbal attack. ‘If I’m not very much mistaken the organ gr-’ The crash of pulse energy weapons being discharged in the room below interrupted his sentence.

He turned to face the curtain, a moment before it was blasted from its hangings to collapse burning to the floor. A white man in combat fatigues was revealed in the glow from the flames, clutching tightly to Victoria, and ushering Wemus, Kepennis and Wina to walk ahead of him into the room.

‘Doctor!’ Victoria sobbed with relief and would have flung herself forward had not Pan clamped his forearm tighter around her throat.

‘Victoria! Oh my word, you’re safe!’ The Doctor held out his arms and trotted towards her, then just as quickly scampered back again, as Pan swung the Luger to cover him.

‘Well, ain’t this just too sweet to bear,’ the mercenary said. Then he saw the figure of the Krallik and swore profusely. He moved further into the room, craning his neck to get a better view of the Krallik. ‘What are
you
?’ he said in almost amused disbelief, although disgust was creasing his face.

‘You’re a beauty, ain’t ya?’ He shot a quick look at the Doctor. ‘This for real?’

‘If you mean is this the Krallik, then yes... in a way...’

‘Screw me. Does it speak? I mean, it’s holding a candle...’

The Krallik said nothing. The flames from the smouldering curtain played on the gruesome white missionary face, lit up the brown merchant’s arms, flickered on the smooth, stitched whore’s hands.

‘I came all the way for
this
?’ Pan raised the Luger, sighted it on the Krallik’s pale forehead. The fish-dead eyes held his without emotion, without anything. ‘Locate and terminate, baby. Always do as I’m told, especially when the target’s as beautiful as your good self.’ He fired.

Click.

Pan laughed. ‘Well, ain’t that good timing? But it still ain’t your lucky day, freak.’ He chucked the empty Luger, pulled a machete from his belt. He went for the Krallik in a fluid violent lope, spun like a vicious ballet dancer, swung, connected...
lop
! The Krallik’s head arced across the room, plonked onto the bamboo flooring, rolled, stopped.

Pan waited for the still seated figure to topple. ‘There,’ he said, unsurprised when it didn’t. ‘Told you that thing wasn’t real.’

The headless body of the Krallik remained on the stool, the candle still held in the slender female hand. The hand twitched, spasmed, the candle light rippled, stabilised again.

Pan whirled with the same agility he’d displayed in decapitating the Krallik, and the point of the machete was under Wemus’s chin as the guide was still halfway across the room in a lumbering attack.

‘Gotta be quicker. You’ve just
got
to be.’ He tickled Wemus’s throat with the blade until blood began to trickle, pushing him backwards.

Wemus stumbled over the bisected body of the young rebel on the floor. He flailed backwards as he fell, and his right arm rocked one of the Mumis on its stool.

Pan grunted. Firelight glimmered on the two green snakes twisting and coiling as they sank their fangs into two different parts of his neck.

Rock-a-bye, baby in the tree top, rock-a-bye, baby let my
rage stop. They always told me I was bad, mama. Especially
you. Had to live up to the rep, right? What you gonna do?

Find a way, I mean everybody’s got to find a way in life, ain’t
that right? Mine just happened to be a bad one, that’s all.

Born to be bad, bad to the b-b-b-bone. Sometimes there ain’t
always a reason for it. You done one thing for me though,
mama – you gave me her. Beautiful cliche blonde. Even had
the eyes so, so blue. Nose a little big, skinny too, but what did
that matter? I loved you, you bitch. When we made love, you
used to say you loved me too.

And that word never meant anything to me. Before you.

After you. Only with you.

My sister, my whore.

The Mumi was still again, its motion sensors detecting nothing within immediate attack range. Pan, green and twitching, lay on the floor below. The machete was still in his right hand, and now it lifted with one final act of aggression as a convulsion shook his entire body. The weapon clattered to the floor and Pan twitched no more. The Piper at the Gates of Dawn tattoo seemed eerily to move in the crawling shadows cast by the candle.

Wina gingerly helped Wemus climb to his feet and together they withdrew as far from the Mumis as was possible in the chamber. The curtains heaped on the floor were just smouldering now, the fire having practically burned itself out.

The Doctor picked up the severed head of the Krallik. A large blob of purple fungus bulged from the neck stump. He advanced on the seated figure, careful to avoid the crouching Mumis. In the glow from the candlelight, he could see more growths poking up grotesquely from inside the torso. The entire body seemed to be crammed with the organism, like a dummy stuffed with purple foam to give it shape.

‘Stopped decomposition from setting in too...’ the Doctor mused aloud. ‘And the sheer concentration of fungus explains the extent of the animation compared to that of the Mumis.