Doctor Who: Engines of War (27 page)

BOOK: Doctor Who: Engines of War
6.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The Doctor, who had so far kept his own counsel as they’d been led through the station, turned to her. ‘Right, let’s see what we’re up against, shall we?’ He stroked his beard nervously, tugging on the corner of his moustache.

Cinder gave a startled yelp as one of the Daleks prodded her between the shoulder blades with its manipulator arm, jostling her forward. ‘All right, all right,’ she said. ‘I’m going.’

The Doctor glared at the Dalek and caught her arm, pulling her to his side. Together – arm in arm – they strolled into the room to meet the Eternity Circle.

Cinder and the Doctor found themselves entering a large audience chamber, arranged around a hexagonal concourse.

On each side of the hexagon, excluding the entrance, was a raised plinth, and atop each one sat a Dalek, looking down imperiously upon the auditorium.

They were similar in size and appearance to the bronze Daleks she had seen elsewhere on the station and so frequently on Moldox – the same manipulator arm and energy weapon, the same menacing eyestalk – save for the colouring, which, Cinder supposed, marked them out as unique. The casing of all five of these ‘Eternity Circle’ Daleks was a deep, metallic blue, with silver sensor globes and domed heads. They appeared to be identical to one another, although she knew from examining the casings of dead Daleks on Moldox that they usually carried small markings beneath their eyestalks to make them easier to identify.

Two other passageways fed into the room, and a series of shadowy alcoves existed between each of the Dalek’s pedestals.

‘Welcome, Doctor,’ announced the Dalek on the central plinth.

‘So this is the so-called Eternity Circle,’ said the Doctor with a smirk. ‘You do realise it’s not actually a circle, don’t you?’ He traced a circle in the air with his finger to emphasise his point.

The Daleks regarded him in silence. Cinder noticed the guards had retreated to stand in the shadow of the archway, watching from the side lines.

‘So you’re the ones responsible for all of this? For harnessing the power of the Tantalus Eye?’ said the Doctor. ‘I’ll grant you, it’s certainly original.’

‘It is a weapon worthy of the Daleks,’ replied the Dalek on the central plinth. Cinder decided it had to be the leader.

‘Is that what you do, then?’ said the Doctor. ‘Sit there on your pedestals feeling superior and dreaming up new ways to torture any of the other life forms in the universe?’

‘That is, indeed, our purpose,’ said the Dalek, and again, Cinder got a sense of a deep and disturbing intelligence at work. This was the Dalek they had heard over the TARDIS’s communications array. It was different from the others, and not simply by virtue of the colour of its casing. It appeared to have a sense of irony. ‘We of the Eternity Circle are charged with securing the proliferation of the Dalek race throughout time. We undertake the invasion of history in order to secure the future, and the eradication of all other forms of life.’

‘Creatures born of hate,’ spat the Doctor in response. ‘You disgust me.’

‘Such fury. Such pure, burning rage. It is a thing of rare beauty to behold. You are every bit as worthy as we hoped, Doc-tor.’ The Dalek sounded impressed.

‘Worthy?’ said the Doctor. ‘Of extermination? I was under the impression that one simply had to have the temerity to be alive in order to warrant such a response from your kind.’

The Dalek made a sound as if it were choking – a strange, strangled cry that Cinder realised, with disgust, was in fact a rasping cackle. The Dalek was actually
laughing
.

‘You’re even more deluded than I’d imagined,’ said the Doctor, pointing to each of the five blue Daleks in turn. ‘Sitting here in your ivory tower, hatching schemes and constructing your super-weapons.’

‘The Temporal Cannon is but one small component, Doctor. A means to an end. Gallifrey will be destroyed regardless. The Dalek ambition knows far greater bounds.’ The Dalek paused, as if weighing its words. ‘You, Doctor. You will be our saviour. You will ensure the survival of the Dalek species.’

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. ‘I will
not
,’ he said. ‘I made that mistake once before, back on Skaro, when I failed to put an end to the work of your creator.’

‘Ah,’ said the Dalek. ‘The beginning of the Time War. The moment that you, Doctor, taught the Daleks their most valuable lesson of all – that emotion is a weakness that must be eradicated. That mercy has no place in victory.’

‘Not a weakness,’ said the Doctor, ‘but a strength.’

‘If it had not been for your hesitation,’ said the Dalek, its tone derisory, ‘for your inability to do what was necessary, then the entire War could have been prevented. The Daleks would have ceased to exist.’

‘Is that true?’ said Cinder, astonished. ‘That you had the chance to kill them all and you let them live?’

‘Continue,’ said the Dalek. ‘Tell your companion. Tell her how you failed.’

‘It’s true,’ said the Doctor, hanging his head. ‘Long before the War began, in a different life, I had the chance to prevent the advent of the Dalek race, to murder them in their cradle before the universe ever knew of their terror.’ He sighed. ‘But I hesitated. I still hoped that they might be saved. I was wrong, and when I went back, when I realised my mistake and
did
try to destroy them, I was too late. They’d already started the production line.’

Cinder didn’t know what to say. The thought that he might have prevented all of this, what had happened to her family, her friends, the trillions of lives that had been lost throughout the cosmos – how could he have allowed it all to happen?

The Doctor had held that power in his hands. Yet he had also spoken to her about responsibility, about how it should never be the burden of one person alone to wield such power. Did he really have the right to destroy a race in its infancy, before he truly understood what it was capable of, how it might evolve? Of course he didn’t. There could be no blame on him for that. ‘Not wrong,’ she said, quietly. ‘Only human.’ It was the greatest compliment she could think to offer him. He smiled appreciatively.

‘I see, Doc-tor, that you understand,’ said the Dalek. ‘And now we shall offer you a gift, a role in the coming dawn of the new Dalek empire. You will become our instrument of extinction. You will conceive of new and inventive means by which to spread your gift of death throughout the cosmos. Your rage shall reignite the flames of war, leading the Daleks to victory on a billion worlds. It shall be a beautiful and terrifying reign, and the Daleks shall worship you for it.’ The Dalek fell silent, awaiting the Doctor’s response.

‘I will die before I lift a finger to help you,’ replied the Doctor.

‘The entity known as the Doctor will, indeed, be exterminated,’ said the Dalek. ‘The emotion centres of your brain will be neutralised. All thoughts of your prior lives will be excised. Your mind, however, will be harvested. Your creativity will be put to wondrous use supporting the Dalek cause.’

‘You don’t get it, do you?’ said the Doctor, laughing. ‘You have no idea. It’s
because
of my emotions that I am who I am. Without them I’d be nothing more than a drone, like the rest of your pathetic race.’

‘We shall see, Doctor,’ said the Dalek. Its eyestalk shifted suddenly to the right. ‘It is time. Commence the procedure.’

‘I obey,’ came a metallic response from somewhere out of sight.

Cinder sensed movement in one of the alcoves beneath the Eternity Circle, and something began to emerge from the shadows. It was the silhouette of a Dalek, only far larger.

‘Behold, Doctor – the Predator Dalek.’

Cinder watched in horrified awe as new Dalek rolled forward into the light. It was twice the size of a standard Dalek casing, although constructed to that same, familiar design. Its skirt was a deep, metallic vermillion, with black sensor globes and grilles, and although mostly inanimate, its appearance nevertheless filled Cinder with dread. The Daleks had clearly been planning this for some time, and she was beginning to get the sense that the Doctor had unwittingly stumbled into their trap.

‘This is our true victory, Doctor,’ said the Dalek on the plinth. ‘The weapon that will win the war. The Tantalus Eye is but a means to an end, the removal of the Time Lord distraction. The Predator Dalek will be the herald of a new age. The time of the Daleks approaches.’

The casing of the Predator Dalek hinged apart like doors being simultaneously opened outward, revealing a large cavity within.

Inside, there was a burnished metal seat surrounded by dials and monitors, resembling the cockpit of a small vehicle. It was clearly empty and awaiting an occupant, but unlike the standard Dalek casings she’d seen on Moldox, this one wasn’t designed to house mutant Kaleds, but a humanoid figure in the chair.

Fibrous wires and clusters of needle-like probes fought for space on either side of the chair, and a sharp metal spike, fixed to the back of the headrest, glistened with lubricant. This was clearly the Dalek version of a neural interface, to be inserted into the soft tissue at the base of the occupant’s skull.

More vicious-looking needles were fixed to the inside of the hinged doors like an iron maiden, waiting to be embedded in the occupant’s flesh once they were in situ.

Once entombed, there was clearly no escape. The engines of the casing would merge with the biology of the occupant, fusing to become a single, symbiotic entity. A Dalek.

‘This, Doctor, is your future,’ said the leading Dalek.

From the doorway, the three Dalek guards whispered forward, forming a loose circle around Cinder and the Doctor.

‘Doctor?’ she said, concerned. He looked at her, and she saw real terror in his eyes. He hadn’t anticipated this, the true agenda of the Eternity Circle. What was more, it didn’t appear as if they were going to draw matters out or offer any chance of escape – the casing of the Predator Dalek stood waiting to accept its new host.

‘Come on!’ bellowed the Doctor, looking around frantically. ‘Come on!’

‘Do not fight it, Doctor,’ said the Dalek.

‘Cinder… I…’ he didn’t seem to know what to say.

‘Your companion will have the privilege of being the first human to be exterminated by the Predator Dalek.’

The guards inched closer, their manipulator arms raised like cattle prods. Cinder wanted to scream. She wished she had her gun, had
anything
, but there didn’t seem to be any way to fight back, and nowhere to left to run. The Doctor had unwittingly led them into a trap.

She rushed forward, clutching frantically at the lapels of the Doctor’s leather jacket. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. ‘I’m sorry, Cinder,’ he said.

‘Doc-tor, it is time,’ rasped the Dalek.

There was a sound like the distant rumble of thunder. At first, Cinder thought the Daleks had done something, had activated the Predator Dalek somehow. As the sound grew louder, however, she recognised the familiar, grating wheeze. It rent the air in the audience chamber.

‘Explain!’ shouted the Dalek. ‘Explain!’

Cinder felt the Doctor clutching her even tighter around the shoulders. ‘Hold on!’ he cried.

‘No!’ bellowed the Dalek, as the world around Cinder suddenly began to change. She saw illuminated roundels flickering into existence, replacing her view of the white walls and the Dalek guards.

‘Exterminate!’ The Dalek’s voice sounded distant, and she flinched at the sound of an energy weapon firing close by.

The shot never reached her, as the walls of the TARDIS miraculously closed in around them, plucking them neatly from the clutches of the Dalek guards.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cinder took in her surroundings with an astonished, sweeping glance. Then, doubtfully, she patted herself on the chest to make sure she was real, and that this wasn’t, in fact, a bizarre but highly credible dream.

She was standing in the TARDIS beside the Doctor, just inside the door. One minute she’d been surrounded by Daleks, preparing herself to die; the next, the ship had simply materialised
around
them, plucking them from the Daleks’ grasp. From where she was standing she could just make out the view on the monitor, which showed Daleks milling about outside, no doubt barking angry commands at one another as they tried to ascertain precisely what the Doctor had done.

She started as she realised that an unfamiliar man was standing at the console. He was dark skinned and muscular, with close-cropped hair and startling blue eyes. He was dressed in the robes of a Time Lord, but they were ill fitting and stained with dark patches of blood.

‘But… but…
how
?’ she said, looking round at the Doctor.

‘Karlax,’ replied the Doctor.

The man at the console sneered.

Karlax
? Then
this
was Karlax? She knew about Time Lord regeneration, of course, but to see it for herself, to see evidence of such a profound change – her mind reeled. She gaped at him. ‘Then it was
you
who saved us?’ She wondered if perhaps the change had been deeper than merely cosmetic. Had this new Karlax developed a conscience, as well as a new face?

‘Not out of choice,’ said Karlax, immediately dispelling that theory.

‘I unlocked the door to the Zero Room before we left the TARDIS,’ said the Doctor. ‘I knew that, given half a chance, Karlax would try to escape. So I made sure the flight path was set to home in on the tracking device he’d planted on you back on Gallifrey. As soon as he started her up—’

‘She swooped in to our rescue,’ finished Cinder.

‘And now it’s time to finish the job,’ said the Doctor. ‘To take Borusa into the Eye.’ He started forward, but stopped when Karlax circled around from behind the console, clutching a pistol.

‘That’s not how this is going to end, Doctor,’ he said.

The Doctor’s shoulders slumped. More than anything, he looked crestfallen, as if he’d been expecting more of Karlax, as if he’d hoped that perhaps things weren’t going to play out this way.

‘He saved your life, Karlax,’ said Cinder. ‘He dragged you from the wreckage of your damaged TARDIS when he could have left you there to die.’

Other books

A Baby in the Bunkhouse by Cathy Gillen Thacker
Storm Surge by R. J. Blain
The Guardians by Andrew Pyper
Duncton Wood by William Horwood