Doctor Who: Timelash (11 page)

Mykros was sorely tempted to run back to Vena, sensing that his beloved’s end was but a few moments away. Yet the Doctor was now using him as a second pair of hands, and he acknowledged the fact. He would stay at his station for as long as the Time Lord and fate would allow, even though his mind was with Vena.

The temperature in the confines of the power vault had escalated to an almost unbearable level. The Doctor’s face was crimson, and his colourful jacket wet through with perspiration. Mykros observed the famous Time Lord under stress, and could see through this struggle that the Doctor was undoubtedly brave and a caring individual, prepared to risk his own existence to save the lives of others. It was probably this basic fact alone that kept Mykros where he was, resolutely supporting and nurturing the last ditch attempt to stop the Borad’s legacy of destruction.

Like the clatter of pounding sledgehammers, a vast force of battle androids, moving forward five abreast and brandishing spiked clubs, appeared at the end of the corridor that led to the Inner Sanctum. Programmed to kill all life on Karfel beginning at the Citadel’s nerve centre, the powerfully constructed army marched on and were now only a few feet away from the disintegrated portals of the council chamber.

Sezon’s team, together with Peri, Herbert and Vena, watched, entirely mesmerised by the numbing sight of vicious mechanical monsters devoid of control.

The rebels’ leader bellowed a ‘present arms’ instruction above the intimidating furore. Herbert, positively terrified, began firing his hand-weapon prematurely, missing his target and wasting valuable ammunition. Yet there was no time to admonish him as, seconds later, Sezon screamed the order everyone was waiting for: ‘
Fire!
’

A volley of shots echoed through the area directed at the first line of advancing warriors. Four of the five androids took blaster power as direct hits on their streamlined chest pieces, but with little effect. The Borad had created an invincible group of crack killers whose ranks were already two deep into the Inner Sanctum.

The Doctor struggled to unloop the final circuit he was manipulating within his wet grasp. ‘Nearly there, Mykros,’

he gasped, knowing full well that he had run out of time.

Mykros looked at his chronographer. A new digit display marked the end of hope for the Inner Sanctum. Distraught and upset he released his hold on the opened unit in his grasp, jogging the Time Lord’s elbow, sending his screwdriver down into one of the power control boxes.

‘Mykros!’ barked the Doctor, horrified. ‘What have you done?’

The first line of androids stopped in front of Sezon and some of his group, while the second line of five allocated themselves on a one-to-one basis with Vena, Herbert and Katz. The others marched on through the chamber looking for more life forms, allowing the execution party to carry out their first programmed task.

Sezon tried close fire and then ramming one of the androids, only to be thrown on the floor himself. All the metallic creatures raised their spiked death clubs high into the air as Peri closed her eyes. She had forgotten all about the Timelash, and it was too late now anyway. Like seals to be culled, the maces were angled over the heads of the cowering group. The leading android signalled completion of the slaughter, and the solid metal clubs fell with full force unmercifully downwards, but only halfway to their targets. The hum of the androids’ power packs stopped, as did marching in other areas. All was quiet.

Katz opened her eyes to see a fat wedge of steel a head’s length away from her own. She jumped to her feet around the bristling weapon joined by the others. The fierce execution squad had become frozen statues, quite lifeless and entirely useless. Peri smiled.

‘Well done, Doctor.’

The Bandrils’ Bomb

Mykros stared at the black lifeless interior of the power box nearest the Doctor.

‘You do realise I was very attached to that screwdriver, don’t you?’

‘Sorry Doctor, but it seems that it did the trick.’

‘Trick?’ queried the Time Lord, moving back from the power panels. ‘
Trick?
’ he snapped, rubbing the sweat from his forehead. ‘
Trick!
’ he shouted, humbling poor Mykros, who recoiled. ‘I know I’m looked upon as a magician by some, but it’s pure science I deal in, I’ll have you know, not cheap tricks.’

Mykros apologised, tongue in cheek, and closed the power panels. ‘How did you know that one controlled the androids, Doctor?’

‘I guessed.’

They moved out of the vault back into the corridor.

Mykros sealed the doors once more.

‘And I assume that none of those metal giants will harm or endanger anyone any more?’

The Doctor paused to get his bearings. He surveyed the area to see several doors leading off the strip of walkway.

‘Where do these lead, Mykros?’

‘Oh, just technical rooms, Doctor, and storage for the Borad’s personal androids.’

The Time Lord’s curiosity bit and he ventured to the first door. Mykros, on the other hand, was eager to get back to see if Vena was all right, and he was also concerned about the Bandrils.

Opening the door, the two of them walked into the damp area, and along to another inner chamber. This door was cold - very cold.

‘Some sort of refrigeration complex. Your food storage?’

quizzed the Doctor, quite intrigued by the possibilities.

Mykros shook his head, fearing that any response would delay them further.

Trying the door, there seemed no way in, until it became obvious that the amulets would have to be used once more. The Doctor goaded Mykros into opening up the cold store - a sharp contrast to the parched environment of the power vault. The Time Lord entered the chilly room to see rows and rows of canisters. Each canister was about six feet high and three feet broad. There was a small square glass front to each which was frozen over.

‘This isn’t food, Mykros. I only hope it’s not what I think it is.’

At this stage Mykros had become quite interested by the Doctor’s find and began scratching at the iced glass to see what was inside each sealed container.

‘By the Gods!’ he yelled, catching the sight of the contents. ‘What is it, Doctor?’

Sezon and Vena manned the communication controls, attempting to call the Bandril task force, as Katz monitored the scan-screen which was littered with the flashing positions of each craft in the Bandril invasion fleet.

‘Wish the Doctor’d get back,’ complained Peri to Herbert, who sat making further notes of events and items around him.

‘What are you up to Herbert?’ asked Peri, her American accent strongly contrasting with Herbert’s precise English articulation.

‘I’m a writer, you know. Can never turn down the chance to put my ideas on paper. It’s so exciting, wouldn’t you agree?’

Peri smiled at his naivety, but refused to shatter his train of thought.

‘Must be very exciting travelling through time and space with the Doctor, Peri,’ Herbert continued.

‘Most of the time,’ she offered guardedly. ’I only hope we survive to travel some more. I’d even consider the Eye of Orion right now.’

‘Where?’

‘Oh, some other time, Herbert. When those blips on the screen stop and turn back, perhaps.’

The Doctor’s suspicions were well-founded. He peered into the tall white metal casket to see the gruesome features of the Borad - or more accurately a Borad.

‘He’s been cloning.’

Mykros looked puzzled.

‘Reproducing his cells to recreate himself,’ explained the Doctor.

‘I don’t understand, Doctor. First you tell me that we’ve been obeying a disfigured half-Morlox, then you say he has actually recreated himself -’ Mykros spun on his heels to count the canisters present ’- twenty-four times?’

‘The puzzle is taking shape, young Mykros. It explains a great deal.’

‘Not to me.’

‘Time enough. What we must do is stop wasting it here though, and get back to the others. Come on.’

The Inner Sanctum had been cleared of the eight androids.

Without power their shells had become light and harmless.

Peri squealed with delight to see the Doctor back, as Mykros met Vena at the door to embrace her once more.

‘Doctor, they just won’t answer.’

‘Indeed? We’ll soon see about that. Open a channel for me.’

‘You’re wasting your breath, Doctor,’ Katz piped up.

‘They’re bent on using a bendalypse warhead, and after what the Borad has subjected them to, I don’t blame them.’

The Time Lord regally stalked to the communication podium near the Timelash controls. With both hands firmly clasping his wide lapels, he addressed the screen.

‘This is the Doctor calling the Bandril fleet. I say again, this is the Doctor of Gallifrey calling the Bandril fleet.

Connect me with the ambassador.’ The Time Lord paused, then bellowed, ‘
Immediately!
’

There was still no response, and the Doctor became impatient. ‘I demand to speak with the Bandril ambassador, or you’ll have more than a petty war on your hands. You are linked with the President of the High Council of Gallifrey. Kill me and your planet will have them to answer to!’

The intimidating statement worked. A diplomatic channel opened and the Bandril ambassador took the air.

‘How do we know you are who you say you are?’

‘Trust. The Borad no longer rules this planet. He’s dead and his evil regime is over. I give you my word, as a Time Lord.’

The Bandril diplomat conferred before delivering his response. After the suffering and anguish endured by their planet, they were not about to handle matters lightly.

‘Before we negotiate any further, prove to us the Borad is dead. Where is his body?’

The Doctor cursed his luck, and the staunch suspicion of the Bandrils, How was he going to explain that the face they knew to be the Borad was that of an android, and that the real dictator was no more than a pile of dust? ‘It can’t be done, Ambassador. Send down a party and we’ll explain.

But do not use your missile on this innocent planet.’

The response to the Doctor’s plea was sharp and firmly announced. The ambassador stressed his planet’s position and totally rejected the Time Lord’s proposal. And, just as Tekker had once treated him, he closed the channel, abruptly leaving a black screen in front of the gathered viewers.

Katz howled across the room, attracting the attention of everyone. ‘They’ve gone and done it! The warhead’s been ejected from their spearhead group. We’re finished.’

Sezon dashed to the screen to see a red streak of cruising light on target for Karfel, travelling at attack speed.

The Doctor snapped his heels together, refusing to answer Peri’s barrage of questions. Then, deciding what he had to do, he raced out of the chamber in a flurry.

It didn’t take long for the Doctor to locate the TARDIS

and activate the central console. Peri was hot on his heels and burst in, much to the Time Lord’s annoyance.

‘What are you doing, Doctor?’

‘Saving my rotten neck,’ he replied, giving a look that his assistant intantly identified as sarcasm. ‘Now would you please get out of here, young lady? You’re distracting me!’

Peri was indignant and rolled her sleeves up to do verbal battle.

‘It’s no good, Peri, I need to work alone, and there’s only minutes to spare. Now
please
, leave me to get on.’

‘But I can help you Doctor. I won’t get in your way.’

The Doctor tripped across her feet in his effort to make some quick adjustments. He looked daggers at the source of his annoyance.

‘Get out!’ he bellowed, half-losing his voice in the process.

‘Can’t you tell me what you are up to first?’

The Doctor ignored the distraction and continued his work regardless, but Peri persisted in forcing him to stop once more and face her interrogation.

‘Look, Peri, can’t you - just this once - accept that I am trying to save us all from a fate no less that total destruction, and can’t you see that you are preventing me from succeeding?’ Peri backed off a little, although she still refused to budge from the console room. Suddenly with a concentrated effort, the Doctor bodily lifted his young assistant, swiftly carrying her to the door. Her struggles to be put down prevented the Doctor from completing the full task of total eviction. Peri fumed, unaccustomed to the Doctor behaving in this manner. Yet it was precisely because of this that Peri decided that enough was enough.

She looked to him for some glimmer of explanation but he looked away with his nose in the air.

Entirely aggravated by his mood, his fiery young assistant stormed out, leaving a contented Time Lord to work, swiftly setting co-ordinates.

‘You will be all right, won’t you, Doctor?’

The Time Lord glared at Pen’s reappearance and bawled vociferously, ‘
Get out!
’

Ensuring the doors to the TARDIS were now locked, the Doctor activated the necessary controls to dematerialise the time-craft into a orbit pattern around Karfel. Unknown to the Doctor, Herbert had also sneaked on board and positioned himself comfortably underneath the console. His pencil shook furiously between his fingers as he continued to make notes in his rapidly filling jotter.

It was the Doctor’s foot making contact with Herbert’s arm that brought matters to a head between them.

Herbert crawled out apologetically, but there was no time at that moment for any communication from the Doctor. Herbert’s questions fell on deaf ears until all the programming was over and the Time Lord could step back.

‘Tell me now, Doctor, what have you been doing?’

The Doctor activated the TARDIS scanner. ‘See that?’

Herbert nodded.

‘That’s a bendalypse warhead.’

‘Looks like it’s about to hit us.’

The Doctor was very dry with his answer. ‘It is.’

‘You mean?’

‘Yes. The TARDIS will take the full impact, Karfel will be saved, and the Bandrils will realise I was telling the truth.’

Herbert, very impressed, scratched the facts on paper but suddenly looked up with realisation. ‘And us, Doctor?’