Doctor Who: Festival of Death: 50th Anniversary Edition (23 page)

‘Yes, sir,’ said Byson. ‘ERIC. Damage report?’

ERIC’s voice fizzled and phutted. >
Bad news, I’m afraid. I have to report extensive damage to bow section, with fuel cells, engines, radiation shielding and power generators all critical. Life-support systems are also seriously compromised
.

‘What sort of damage to the bow section?’

>
We’ve lost the front twelve per cent of the ship
.

Of course, thought Byson. The forward section of the
Cerberus
would have passed through the interface before they got stuck. The interface had split the ship in two; one part in real space, one part in hyperspace.

‘ERIC. What sort of casualty situation are we looking at?’

>
I’m unable to give an accurate prognosis, but I estimate the number of mortalities to be at least 358
, said ERIC sadly. >
A revised estimate will follow as more data becomes available
.

‘Gods,’ breathed Byson. That was over a third of their passengers.

‘ERIC. You are responsible for the welfare of the ship’s passengers, aren’t you?’ said Rochfort.

>
That is correct, Captain Rochfort. My duties include
–

‘And yet you let this happen.’

>
But I warned you about the instability in the tunnel, and I said you should have stopped the ship
–

‘But you didn’t do anything to prevent those passengers being killed, did you?’

>
That’s not fair. I did everything I could within my operational parameters
–

‘No you didn’t, you stupid machine!’ Byson watched as Rochfort’s face turned crimson with anger. ‘You should have overridden the control circuits!’

>
I tried to, Captain, but you wouldn’t let me
–

‘So you did nothing. Nothing!’ shouted Rochfort. ‘You could have halted the ship at the first sign of trouble, but instead you let us plunge straight into danger!’

>
But Captain, it was you who said we should go faster –

‘You should have overruled me! But you didn’t, did you? You caused all the passengers’ deaths. It was all your fault!’

>
I didn’t
! wailed ERIC.
It wasn’t me. I couldn’t help it
!

Tarie walked across the observation lounge. The floor was still swaying slightly, or maybe she was just dizzy. All around her were overturned tables, and patches of broken glass. The grown-ups were sitting up, patting handkerchiefs on to their cuts. Some of them were crying, cradling their loved ones in their arms. Seeing grown-ups cry frightened Tarie; it meant things were really bad.

She found her mother. The table pressed into her middle and her dress had been torn, which Tarie thought was a shame. It had been so pretty, and her mum would be so angry when she woke up.

A pounding woke Hann up. To begin with, he thought the sound was in his head. Then he lifted himself off the control panel and realised its was coming from behind him.

Rubbing his forehead, he pulled himself out of his seat. The hammering increased in volume, and was joined by a persistent
grinding
. The Arachnopods were attacking the bulkhead door again.

Hann approached Skinner’s body. He was slumped across the dashboard, his eyes glazed. Hann nudged his lifeless hand out of the way and checked the control panel. The switches and levers were streaked with fire damage, but there was still enough power left to extend the access tube.

Hann peered out of the viewscreen. The leisure cruiser was only fifty or so yards away. And there, within easy reach, was an airlock hatch.

He activated the tube extension mechanism. There was a deep humming and a transparent tube began to fold out towards the airlock.

There was a warning bleep, and the bulkhead door opened. Too late, Hann realised what must have happened. The heat had fused together the control circuits, and he had shorted the lock mechanism when he activated the access tube.

There was a hurried scuttling and a voice gurgled hungrily: ‘Eats! Must have eats!’

For a brief moment Hann heard the clacking of pincers. And then everything went dark for a second, and final, time.

As they dashed on to the high-ceilinged deck, Romana found herself stepping into a memory made real. It was almost exactly as it had been when they had first visited the G-Lock; the corpses littering the staircase, the hideous smell. To one side was the skullguard that she and the Doctor would later take to the medical bay, unconscious.

The Doctor was more concerned with getting Hoopy to the medical bay. The lizard snored fitfully in his arms.

‘Doctor, look!’ At the top of the staircase stood two bearded men in dishevelled blue uniforms. They staggered down the stairs, holding the banisters for support as the G-Lock wobbled. They both looked distressed, tortured.

‘The Repulsion…’ croaked one of them, grey-haired and ruddy-faced. ‘It has… it has abandoned us.’

‘We cannot survive without it,’ said the other man. ‘We are lost.’

The Doctor stared at them, appalled, and moved away. He nodded to Romana to follow him.

She felt more time distortion washing back over her. And something very strange was happening.

The older man reached the halfway point of the stairs, and clutched his neck. His body jerked. ‘What is happening to me?’

‘We are… we are dying, sir!’ said his colleague.

‘So this is death, is it, Byson?’

‘That would seem to be the case, sir.’

Suddenly both their jaws opened wide, wider than should have been possible. They screamed a howl containing centuries of accumulated rage and resentment. And then they began to flicker, transforming into two squat, kaftan-wearing orange lizards.

The flickering increased until, abruptly, the time distortion stopped, and the two Gonzies tumbled down the staircase, their bodies adding to the pile of corpses.

The Doctor looked down on them. ‘Biscit and Xab. Permanently dead, this time. Oh well, at least they had plenty of practice.’

‘You know them?’ asked Romana, recovering her breath.

‘They were friends of Hoopy’s.’

‘The ones who killed K-9?’

‘Yes. But I wouldn’t hold that against them, they weren’t quite themselves at the time.’ The Doctor made his way down the corridor leading to the medical bay.

Romana held the double doors open for him. He quickly crossed to the nearest bed – the same bed Romana had seen Hoopy resting on later that morning – and placed the lizard on the mattress. Hoopy grunted, and then shifted into a more comfortable sleeping position.

The Doctor removed his hat, and fanned himself with it. ‘Right. Well, at least we know that Hoopy gets out of this in one piece. A little frayed around the edges, perhaps, but alive.’

Romana was impatient to leave. ‘Doctor?’

‘Mmm?’

‘The TARDIS?’

‘Yes. The TARDIS. Let’s go!’

It seemed ages since they had last stepped into the cockpit of the
Montressor
. Romana gazed out through the airlock door at the wreck of the
Cerberus
. It was shaking under the force of repeated explosions, oversized flames licking its surface. Even at this distance, she could feel the reverberations of each shock.

‘Don’t worry, it will still be here in…’ The Doctor examined his pocket watch, ‘… five hours’ time. When we arrive.’ He returned the watch to the depths of his coat, and then heaved the airlock door shut.

Romana straightened as she walked back into the hold. It was just as they had left it; dusty, dark, with the TARDIS parked in the far corner.

The Doctor strode up to the police box, key in hand. Romana coughed. ‘Doctor. Aren’t you forgetting something?’

‘What?’

Romana indicated the bulkhead door. ‘When we arrived, this was shut, remember?’

‘Oh. Of course.’ The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at Romana. ‘You’re quite right. The web of time.’ He set to work on the locking mechanism. After a few seconds, there was a sequence of clicks and the door ground shut. ‘There we are. Ready for some dashing fellow to come along and open it.’

‘We must leave all threads hanging exactly as we found them, remember?’ said Romana, shivering.

‘Threads? You talk to me about threads? I can think of plenty of threads which are still flapping about. And, personally speaking, I’m almost at the end of my tether.’

Romana cringed.

‘Come on.’ The Doctor crossed to the TARDIS and disappeared inside. Romana stood on the threshold for a few moments, alone in the cold and darkness.

The Doctor popped his head out. ‘What is it, Romana?’

Romana looked into the distance. ‘I was just thinking about K-9.’

‘I know,’ said the Doctor softly. ‘I shall miss him too. He was a good dog. The best.’ He paused, crestfallen. ‘But then again, it looks like I will be joining him shortly.’

Romana wasn’t in the mood to be sympathetic. ‘Oh, don’t be so… so infuriatingly futilitarian.’

The Doctor vanished back into the depths of the police box. ‘Well, I’m sorry, I think I have good reason to be pessimistic.’

‘Pessimistic? I call it downright morbid.’ Romana stepped inside, and pulled the doors shut behind her. Seconds later, the TARDIS dematerialised.

The escape capsule was cramped. Metcalf and Jeremy sat opposite each other, squeezed into the uncomfortable seats. Jeremy observed Metcalf who was fidgeting in his sweatstained suit and constantly smoothing his unruly, wet hair.

The floor shook to the crump of a distant explosion. This was the final straw for Metcalf. He blubbered, his hands over his face.

‘It’s going to explode! It’s no use, we’re all going to die!’ He reached out a podgy hand for the launch lever.

Jeremy stopped him from pulling it. It would be no use, anyway; he had tried it several times before Metcalf had arrived, to no effect.

‘But… but um, aren’t you supposed to be in charge here?’ said Jeremy. ‘Looking after the interests of the tourists and so on? Um, you can’t just leave –’

‘What?’ screamed Metcalf. ‘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! Please!’

And, in a corner of the escape capsule, the red ‘record’ light winked on Jeremy’s holocamera.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

THE OBSERVATION LOUNGE
was emptying. Tourists drained their drinks and headed for the Great Hall. Black-robed guards followed, ushering the crowds forward. Bar staff cleared away the glasses and wiped the vacated tables.

There was an unsteady grinding sound and in one corner, nestled between the window, a waste-disposal unit and the charcoal-coloured wall drapes, the TARDIS materialised. Nobody took the slightest bit of notice.

The Doctor emerged. ‘Hello. This must be the observation lounge.’ He noticed the gothic decoration. ‘A bit maudlin for my tastes.’

Romana looked around with heavy hearts, remembering the last time she had been here. ‘What time is it?’

‘Exactly the same time as our previous arrival.’ The Doctor pulled the TARDIS doors shut. ‘We are currently walking around in the hold of the
Montressor
.’

‘We shall have to be very careful, Doctor. If we meet our past selves, the consequences could be catastrophic.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said the Doctor. ‘But the last time we were here, we didn’t bump into our future selves, did we?’

‘Exactly,’ said Romana flatly. ‘So if we encounter our past selves, we will therefore be changing our own pasts. Which we can’t do.’

‘Second law of time travel.’

‘First law.’ Romana tried to bring the Doctor down to earth. ‘I’m still not sure we should be doing this. We’re taking an awful risk just by being here.’

‘Don’t worry. I didn’t come here to find myself.’

‘I’m being serious, Doctor. If we upset the time stream, then the whole continuity of the universe would unravel.’

The Doctor grinned. ‘I promise I shall resist the temptation of conversing with the greatest intellect on the G-Lock.’

‘You are already are,’ smirked Romana.

The Doctor strode to the centre of the lounge. ‘Right. Where to?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind having a proper look round the necroport,’ said Romana.

‘Good idea. But first…’ The Doctor scratched his head. ‘I’d rather like to have another word with ERIC.’

‘In that case, I’ll go and find Evadne,’ said Romana. ‘Recruit her to the cause.’

‘Of course, you haven’t met her yet, have you?’

‘Doctor, at this point in time, we haven’t met anyone yet. No one knows who we are.’

‘That will make a change,’ said the Doctor. He started to walk rapidly towards the door, and then stopped. ‘You wouldn’t happen to know the way to Metcalf’s office, would you?’

‘What are we going to do, sir?’ asked Byson.

Rochfort blinked slowly, as if it was taking him a great effort to stay awake. He staggered into his seat and slumped.

‘Captain?’

Rochfort jerked awake. ‘Byson. Only one thing we can do. Back our way out.’

Byson raised his gaze. The aft windows were filled with hundreds of ships, all packed tightly together. There was no way a ship the size of the
Cerberus
could get through. ‘But sir –’

Rochfort shouted at the ceiling. ‘ERIC?’

> You’re right
, whimpered the computer.
> I should have overruled you. It’s all my fault
.

‘Never mind that. Can you put the
Cerberus
into reverse?’

> I will never forgive myself
. ERIC broke down, sobbing.

Rochfort slammed a fist into the desk. ‘Answer the question!’

There was a brief sneeze of white noise.
> I can’t do it. All the
engines
are non-operational. I’ve had to shut down all non-essential systems just to maintain life support
.

Byson checked one of the schematic monitors. It showed the hyperspace tunnel as a tube ending in two circles. The tube was narrower at one end, and at that point there was a computer representation of the
Cerberus
. Other ships dotted the length of the tunnel. But it was what was happening at the other end that terrified Byson.