Doctor Who: Prisoner of the Daleks (9 page)

The screaming continued for another full minute before the Doctor cracked. He leapt to his feet and dived towards the cargo bay door. But Koral was there before him, steel claws at his throat. They felt cold and sharp on his skin.

'On my homeworld of Red Sky Lost, we hunted koogah beasts alone. Each koogah has a thick, armoured hide and poisoned tusks and we respected it as a formidable enemy. It is why we developed these claws.'

'Very useful, I'm sure.' The Doctor didn't move a muscle.

'With these, I could rip an adult koogah wide open with a single strike. I'm used to extreme violence and the spilling of blood. You mean less to me than a koogah beast, Doctor. I wouldn't hesitate to kill you if I had to.'

'Yes, I can see that.' Very carefully the Doctor backed away from the door, hands raised. 'But tell me, Koral – when you were hunting these koogah things... did you torture them as well?'

She made no reply. All they could hear was the crackle of the power discharger.

The Doctor leant back against the opposite wall. 'So, what are we going to do now? Stand out here and listen to that thing scream until it dies?'

'If necessary.'

'But that's just it.' The Doctor's teeth were grinding together as he bit off each individual word. 'It's
not
necessary.'

'Nor was the destruction of Red Sky Lost!' It was the first time the Doctor had seen Koral lose her cool, even slightly. 'The Daleks razed my planet to the ground. They slaughtered everyone. Everything. Genocide!'

'They are masters of it.'

'And you expect me to stand aside and allow them to go unpunished?' Koral glared hotly at him. 'I am the only survivor! The last of my people! After me, there is
nothing
.'

'Yes,' said the Doctor sadly. 'I know.'

She shook her head. 'You know nothing.'

He leant closer to her again, looking directly into her flaming eyes without flinching. 'Let me go back in there, Koral. Stop Bowman from tearing that creature apart and let
me
talk to it.'

'You?'

'Yes!
I
can make it talk!'

The corridor was filled with another round of screaming. Something thick and wet gurgled in the Dalek's vocal cords – or whatever it used to speak – and the noise suddenly choked off, replacing by a pathetic, ululating whimper.

'If it's not too late,' insisted the Doctor, 'I can make it speak. I know how to get information out of it.'

'You're bluffing.'

The Doctor didn't even blink. 'Trust me!'

The silence that followed was thick with possibilities. In the end it was broken by the sound of the cargo hold door opening.

The Doctor and Koral separated quickly, as if they were lovers caught by surprise, but no one was interested.

Bowman stood in the doorway. His big shoulders were slumped, and there was sweat on his face. A waft of hot air, carrying an indescribably fetid odour, seeped out of the hold.

'It's over,' he growled. 'It's dead.'

Scrum and Cuttin' Edge emerged behind him. Scrum looked white-faced and physically ill. Cuttin' Edge's face was etched with what could have been distaste or fear. He was still carrying the stave, and the end of it was covered in a sticky, green ichor.

Bowman stalked away, calling Scrum after him like an obedient dog. Cuttin' Edge paused, raising his head so he could look at the Doctor. 'If it's any consolation,' he said quietly, 'you were right. It never said a word.'

The Doctor just looked at him with contempt.

Cuttin' Edge turned to Koral. 'Skipper wants us all in the galley,' he told her. 'Team meeting.'

The door to the cargo bay remained open. Inside it was dark, except for a dull red glow from the emergency lights. The Doctor guessed that Bowman's power discharger had fused the illumination circuits at some point. Now the interior of the hold looked like a little pocket of Hell.

Ignoring the stench, the Doctor stepped inside.

The remains of the Dalek lay on the floor beneath the upended casing. It was quite small – the distended brain sac lying like a rotten melon in a pool of dark unguent. Some of its squid-like arms were coiled around the carcass, while others lay on the floor like dead worms, severed from the main body.

There were many more wires and cables dangling from the Dalek casing, evidence of how Scrum and Cuttin' Edge must have had to scrape the creature out of its shell. Strings of glistening slime hung down like the drool of some strange metal beast that had recently vomited the half-digested contents of its stomach onto the floor.

The Doctor knelt down carefully by the dead creature and put his glasses on. It was difficult to see anything clearly in the red emergency lighting, but there was something that made him want to check. You could never trust a Dalek, even in death.

And, just fractionally, the single eye twitched.

'You're still alive,' breathed the Doctor. His voice was no more than an awed whisper.

The eye slowly closed.

'Oh, come on,' said the Doctor. 'You can't fool me.'

The eye opened again, swivelling jerkily in the broken socket until it was looking at the Doctor. There was no indication that it could actually see, let alone focus. Perhaps it was just registering the sound of his voice.

'It's me,' said the Doctor. 'The Oncoming Storm.'

The eye opened a little wider, and the red-black dot at its centre shrank. An inarticulate gurgle emerged faintly from the glistening remains.

'Or maybe you just know me as the Doctor.'

Another gurgle.

'That's the trouble with jumping the time lines,' said the Doctor, sitting down on the floor. 'It's difficult to work out where we're up to. Dalek history was confusing enough
before
the Time War.'

'D
OC...TOR
...'

The hairs on the back of his neck actually stood up. He swallowed, momentarily lost for words. Eventually he simply replied, 'Yes?'

'O
NLY... AT... THE END... DO YOU COME
...' The Dalek quivered with the effort of speaking, although it was hard to make out the actual words. 'T
O GLOAT
.'

'No,' the Doctor shook his head. 'No, I'm not gloating.'

'T
HEN... KILL... ME
...'

'I can't.'

'C
OWARD
.'

'There's no need to fight me,' said the Doctor.

'T
HEN... WHY HAVE YOU COME
?'

'I'm not here for that. You're finished. Even you must admit that.'

'D
ALEKS... NEVER... CAPITULATE
.'

'That's your problem. There's no reasoning with you. You've all got one-track minds. I bet if you could fire your gun now you'd exterminate me on the spot.'

'Y
ES
!'

'When any sane being would plead for their life. For mercy.'

'D
ALEKS DO NOT PLEAD
.'

'I know. But you could have saved yourself a lot of bother if you'd spoken up sooner. Bowman only wanted to talk.'

'B
OWMAN
...?'

'The man who was... interrogating you.'

'H
E FAILED
.' There was a hint of triumph in the croaking voice. 'I
SHOULD NOT... HAVE ALLOWED MYSELF... TO BE CAPTURED
. B
UT HIS FAILURE... WAS THE GREATER
. N
O MATTER WHAT HE DID TO ME
... I
WOULD NOT TALK
.'

'Very impressive, I'm sure.'

'H
UMANS DO NOT UNDERSTAND TORTURE
.'

'Oh, I think they do. Unfortunately. It's not one of their more endearing traits, but they do know how to inflict pain and suffering, I'll give you that.'

'I
EXPECTED NOTHING LESS
.'

The Doctor stirred. 'No. That's wrong. Humans are capable of love and mercy as well. And generosity and charity too. There is no limit to the good they can do – or that they are capable of. Not like you. All you know is pain and suffering.'

'A
ND THAT IS WHY WE WILL SUCCEED
,' said the Dalek. 'W
E UNDERSTAND PAIN
. H
UMANS DO NOT
.'

The Doctor wondered if the Dalek was speaking from experience. And when he considered the metal and plastic wires connecting the creature to its cramped life-support machine where, up until today, it had spent its entire waking life, he realised that it probably was.

The Dalek had not yet finished its rant. 'B
UT THE HUMAN RACE WILL BE DEFEATED
. A
LL HUMANS WILL CEASE TO EXIST
. T
HE
D
ALEKS WILL ERADICATE THEM FROM THE UNIVERSE
!'

'Never.'

'T
HE
D
ALEKS WILL TRIUMPH
! T
HERE IS NOTHING THAT CAN STOP US FROM CHANGING THE PATH OF HISTORY – NOT EVEN YOU
, D
OC–TOR
!'

'You're delirious,' said the Doctor scornfully.

'T
HE
D
ALEKS WILL CONQUER AND DESTROY
,' grated the creature, seeming to regain some of its energy in its dying moments. 'We will eliminate all human life from its very beginnings! W
E WILL CONQUER
T
IME AND
S
PACE
! T
HE FUTURE WILL BELONG TO THE
D
ALEKS
!'

The Doctor leant closer, suddenly angry. 'Oh yeah? Well, get this: I've seen the future. You lot are going to end up so hungry and mad for power that you bite off more than you can chew. And the whole conquest of time and space thing is going to blow up in your faces.' The Doctor moved even closer, until he could smell the toxic slime that covered the Dalek. 'You're all going to burn and no matter how much you try to come back, or which of you remain, I'm always gonna be there to stop you. So just remember:
there's a storm coming
!'

The Dalek shrank back a little. But there was still defiance, even in its last seconds of life. 'Y
OU THREATEN ME WHEN
I
CANNOT FIGHT BACK
. Y
OU HAVE ONLY COME TO WATCH ME DIE
. B
UT THE
D
ALEKS WILL TRIUMPH
! T
HE
D
ALEKS WILL ALWAYS SURVIVE
. W
E WILL BE MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE
!'

The Dalek's final words died in a hysterical groan; the creature convulsed and then seemed to deflate as the eye closed for a final time. The Doctor was under no illusion that it was now truly dead. And for that he was profoundly grateful.

But then something seemed to click in his brain – a sudden connection, something the Dalek had said that flicked a switch of realisation in his head. He jumped up, wide-eyed and alert. His hair was practically standing up in spikes with agitation. 'Of course!' he exploded, smacking his forehead with the heel of one hand. '
That's
what they were doing on Hurala!'