Doctor Who: Festival of Death: 50th Anniversary Edition (10 page)

‘You know, I get terribly nervous around guns,’ said the Doctor, as though it had just occurred to him. ‘I should hate to accidentally –’ He let the sculpture slip out of his hands only to catch it a moment later.

‘Don’t fire, you idiots,’ cried Metcalf. ‘Put your rifles away.’

‘But –’

‘Put them away!’ said Metcalf. ‘That sculpture is uninsured.’

The Investigators reluctantly belted their rifles and backed away.

‘That’s better.’ The Doctor dangled the statue in one hand and switched the intercom on with the other. ‘Now give the order.’

‘G-Lock. This is Executive Metcalf speaking,’ Metcalf stammered into the microphone. ‘I wish to order a complete evacuation of the G-Lock. All persons, tourists and staff should proceed calmly to the docking bay. Apparently the hyperspace tunnel is about to collapse killing us all, but there is no cause for public disquiet. Thank you.’

‘And call your guards off.’

‘Additional message to all skullguards. The terrorists referred to as the Doctor and Romana are not, it transpires, terrorists after all, and should not be recaptured.’

The Doctor switched the intercom off, and carelessly tossed the statue aside. Metcalf dived across his desk and grabbed it, clutching it to the safety of his chest. He looked up at the Doctor, his body shaking with pure hatred. ‘Kill him! Kill him now!’

Throughout the G-Lock the survivors streamed down the corridors, down the access tubes of the docking bay. Tourists dressed in colourful, flowing robes hurried into the parked spacecraft. The skullguards abandoned their masks and joined the exodus. The emergency medics packed away their life-detectors and headed back to their ships.

Dunkal levelled his rifle at the Doctor’s left ear.

‘Well, you felt the tremor,’ said the Doctor. ‘And you saw the geostatic build-up. And the fact that I’m prepared to risk my life to –’

‘You can prove anything with facts,’ sneered Metcalf. ‘And yet
you
have most conspicuously failed to produce any evidence that you did not sabotage the necroport, nor…’

‘Well, I might have sabotaged the necroport, I don’t know,’ considered the Doctor. ‘I might have sabotaged it to prevent it turning people into the walking dead. After all, I somehow don’t think Metcalf here…’

‘What are you suggesting?’

‘I somehow doubt that you were the one who saved the day. I have some experience in that area, you see.’

Dunkal decided it was time to impose himself on the proceedings. The sooner this was sorted, the sooner he could get back to real investigating. Questioning widows and drinking in dive bars. ‘I think, Rige, that we can infer the Doctor’s full confession.’

‘Confession,’ said Rige, twitching his trigger finger.

The office door opened. The Doctor’s accomplice entered, smiling haughtily. ‘I do hope I’m not interrupting,’ she said.

‘Romana, you’re just in time,’ said Metcalf. ‘The Investigators were just about to pass sentence.’

‘I’ve brought some people along.’ A cheery-looking girl in overalls entered, followed by a balding man in a grey mac, an overweight fool in shorts carrying a holocamera, and the ludicrous dog the Doctor had called K-9.

At the sight of them, Metcalf began rapidly smoothing his hair. ‘This is a private executive office. You must vacate these premises forthwith.’ Nobody paid any attention.

Dunkal felt certain he remembered the balding man from somewhere. Probably from his criminal files. There was undoubtedly something nefarious about him.

‘Evadne. K-9. Jeremy.’ The Doctor shook the balding man’s hand. ‘And Harken Batt! I am so pleased to see you.’

Harken Batt. Of course, thought Dunkal. The holovision presenter from a few years back. He’d showed up at a few chalk outlines Dunkal had been investigating. And
The Guilty Conscience
documentary. Hadn’t there been some sort of scandal about that?

‘Doctor, I came as soon as I heard of your grim fate,’ said Harken.
‘When
I heard the announcements ordering your arrest, I feared the worst, and then the evacuation notice…’

The Doctor fixed Harken with an anxious stare. ‘How’s it going?’

‘The evacuation? Oh, it seems to be proceeding smoothly. Actually, I need to ask you about that.’

‘Yes?’

‘This tunnel really is collapsing, is it?’

‘Yes.’

‘And what would the best viewpoint be, when it happens?’

‘As far away as possible,’ Romana said. ‘Harken, this isn’t really the time or the place…’

‘Absolutely.’ Harken swallowed. ‘As I was saying. If I had known that my documentary would be of supreme importance…’

‘Your documentary?’ said the Doctor. ‘Of course…’

‘Harken has holovideo footage that completely gets you off the hook, Doctor,’ said Evadne. ‘And not only that, but it also incriminates a certain gasket –’

‘Don’t listen to them,’ bleated Metcalf, wiping his hands on his lapels. ‘This is a smear campaign. A malicious, underhand…’

Dunkal motioned to Rige to shut Metcalf up. At the unfriendly end of a rifle, the Executive closed his mouth.

‘Is this correct? It demonstrates he’s…’ Dunkal winced at Metcalf, ‘… guilty?’

‘It most certainly does,’ said Harken. ‘Extensive footage gathered throughout by myself and my holocameraman Jeremy. An exclusive insight into the true nature of events. As they happened.’

‘OK. Let’s see it,’ said Dunkal, and dragged himself a seat.

The Doctor and the others stood aside as Jeremy placed his holocamera on the desk. At the press of a button, the camera sent a beam of light on to the far wall where a blocky image shimmered. Gradually, it cleared into a three-dimensional projection of Metcalf’s face. His face was dripping with sweat as he crouched in a small, dark booth.

Shaking with fear, and direct to camera, Metcalf screamed, ‘Never mind the plebbing tourists! Let them all die, I don’t care!
We’re
considerably better off without them, the hippy scum! Just get me out of here!’

The image dissected and faded to white. ‘I’m thinking of using that for the trailer,’ said Harken.

‘I can explain,’ spluttered Metcalf. ‘That was recorded under the most exceptional circumstances –’ He fell silent at the prompt of Rige’s rifle.

The holovideo resolved itself into another image, this time of Harken Batt in a metal chamber. Behind him were two or three figures in coffins, but it was impossible to identify them in the low-resolution gloom.

The holographic Harken Batt checked his microphone. ‘You join me in the interior of the necroport, the device behind the Beautiful Death, where the battle for the G-Lock reaches its dreadful and dramatic conclusion.’ He tilted his head to one side, and spoke in an over-serious drawl. ‘Whilst outside the twins known only as tragedy and terror unleash their deadly game of destruction, within we are about to bear witness to the ultimate confrontation between man and something else. With my invaluable assistance, the enigmatic traveller known only as the Doctor is now striving to defeat the terrible menace…’

‘Ah-ha!’ grinned the Doctor. ‘I told you so!’

‘… and avert the certain and harrowing massacre of every soul on board the G-Lock.’ The holographic Harken Batt paused. ‘It is a task that may cost him his very life.’

The Doctor’s grin fell.

The projection blinked off, leaving a plain wall. All faces in the room turned to the real Harken. ‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ he declared.

Dunkal weighed up the various options, brushed his moustache and stood up. ‘Executive Metcalf, I am placing you under arrest on suspicion of crimes of negligence leading to mass fatalities. You will be taken from this place to a place of imprisonment pending full investigation and sentence. Although you have the right to remain silent, we have the right to infer guilt from your silence. Is there anything you wish to say?’

Metcalf rose to his feet, straightening his suit. ‘This is all most undesirable. I have behaved impeccably throughout a period of great personal strain.’ He looked yearningly at the sculptures. His chin wobbled. ‘Can I have these transported with me?’

‘Not where you’re going,’ said Dunkal. It was one of his favourite lines.

Metcalf trailed a finger over his desk one fond and final time, and allowed himself to be led out. As he passed the Doctor his face reddened. ‘This is entirely your fault, Doctor. I have friends, you know, high-placed ones, and when they hear about this…’

‘Goodbye, nincompoop,’ said the Doctor contemptuously.

As Rige collared Metcalf away, Dunkal approached the Doctor.

‘Doctor. Romana. Now that Metcalf’s witness statement has been discredited, we unfortunately have no further evidence of any impropriety on your part. So, much as it pains me to say this, after due investigation I am obliged to conclude that you are both innocent.’

‘Innocent?’ repeated Rige.

‘Yes, Rige,’ sighed Dunkal. ‘Innocent.’

‘Delighted,’ said the Doctor. ‘Well, goodbye Investigators Dunkal, Rige, thanks for everything. When it comes to diligence, you stop at nothing.’

‘Thank you,’ said Dunkal. He saluted the ladies, nodded to Harken and followed Rige and Metcalf out of the office.

The medics were wheeling the last survivors out of the medical bay.

‘So it’s something to do with a build-up of pressure?’ asked Harken. He thrust a microphone under K-9’s nose and Jeremy backed away to fit them both into shot.

‘Affirmative,’ K-9 said. ‘This unit calculates that the geostatic pressure will cause a total loss of hyperdimensional viability in thirty-one minutes’ time. A simplistic analogy would be a cork in a bottle.’

Harken was impressed. He turned to the holocamera. ‘This is Harken Batt, reporting from the G-Lock, interviewing… I’m sorry, what are you called?’

‘My designation is K-9.’

‘Interviewing K-9.’ Harken made a cut-it-there motion to Jeremy. ‘Right. I’m glad I got all that, I’d hate to get the science bit wrong,’ he confided to Romana. ‘People write in, you see.’ Particularly after
The Guilty Conscience
, he added to himself. But that was all in the past. From now on, the future held only glittering presentations, profiles in the glossies and chat-show green rooms.

A few minutes later, Harken Batt was ready to leave and Jeremy had bundled his camera away. The Doctor had wandered across the ward, refusing to acknowledge any goodbyes, and was busy pottering through piles of discarded equipment.

‘Well, best of luck,’ said Romana. ‘I hope the documentary turns out well.’

‘With the contributions of my colleague here, it cannot fail. I’m calling it
The Catastrophe of Death
.’ Harken put a proprietorial arm around Jeremy. ‘I… You and the Doctor will be heroes of the hour.’

Romana shook Harken’s hand, and the grey-coated holovision reporter and his garishly shorted recruit left for the docking bay. One of the medics, the bearded man Romana had seen earlier, pushed past with the final trolley. In it was the eccentric orange lizard with the circular sunglasses. Recognising her, the reptile hoisted itself into a seated position. ‘Romana. You got the groovy medicine? From the
Glow?
’

Romana shook her head. The drugs had been confiscated by the skullguards. ‘I’m sorry.’ She dug out the hologram ident key and offered it to the lizard.

‘Hoopy won’t be needing that,’ slurred the lizard. ‘They’ve lined me up a medicine wagon to Teredekethon Grand General. Totally recovery. Bliss-out. And then back to Gonzos. I have some loaf-bakingly freakish memoirs to publicise.’

Romana let the medic trundle Hoopy to safety. Evadne shuffled from foot to foot.

‘Time I was gone too,’ she said. ‘Um, Romana, you know you said earlier about a ship…’

‘Sorry?’

‘When we met, when you said you worked for Intergalactic Espionage, you said you’d get me a ship.’

Romana handed her the key. ‘Have this. Docking bay two, Bay 68. A supernova convertible. It’s in bad shape but should get you wherever you’re going.’

Evadne gave Romana a hug. ‘Somewhere with no Metcalfs, no necroports and no undead tourists, I think. Harken’s asked me to star in his documentary, I might do that.’

Romana arched an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

‘No, I don’t think so, somehow.’ Evadne beamed cheekily. ‘No, I have a bit of personal unfinished business and then, I don’t know, maybe Lajetee college, if they’ll have me back.’ She leaned forward confidentially. ‘Good luck with you-know-who. Sorry I mentioned about him dying and stuff. You know, he only dies because –’

Romana shushed her. ‘Please, don’t mention it.’

‘Sorry. Say no more.’ A thought occurred to Evadne. ‘Does this mean that you’re going to go back in time and meet me again, then? Except you’ll know me and I won’t know you?’

‘Probably. The web of time cannot be altered,’ said Romana darkly.

‘Right. Well. See you earlier, then. And thanks for the space hopper.’ Evadne bounded away, leaving Romana alone with K-9.

The Doctor returned, holding a humming life-detector. ‘Everybody gone?’

Romana nodded.

‘No other life forms within detection range,’ added K-9.

The Doctor patted the life-detector. ‘Just to make sure.’ He headed for the door. ‘Come on.’

‘Back to the TARDIS?’

‘Yes,’ said the Doctor. ‘We haven’t much time.’

Rige locked Metcalf into the hold with a satisfying jangle of keys and clunked himself into the co-pilot’s seat of the Investigation transporter.

Dunkal took a final gulp of black coffee, wiped his lips, and flipped the plastic cup in the disposal unit. ‘How’s our very important Executive?’

Rige grinned back. ‘Whimpering, mainly.’

Dunkal kicked the engines into life. With a grumble, the transporter wavered off the docking pad. The viewscreen was filled with the latticework of the G-Lock rotating around them.

‘You know, with this conviction under our belts, we could be in line for good things.’

‘Good things? What do you mean, promotion?’

‘Even better than that, Rige. Bigger guns.’ Dunkal heaved on the throttle, and the transporter roared away from the G-Lock, out of the hyperspace tunnel and into deep space.

The Doctor and his companions trudged down the derelict corridor to the airlock. The G-Lock was now rattling constantly. Roof supports clanged to the floor and smoke blustered through the passages. Distant explosions rumbled like an approaching storm.