Doctor Who: Dreams of Empire: 50th Anniversary Edition

by Richards, Justin

  The ground at Jamie’s feet exploded into splinters of hot stone. He took one more quick look at the armoured robot, noted the grenades and weapons hanging from its belt and built into the very fabric of its structure. Then he turned and ran after Haden and Logall.

  ‘You’re just in time.’ Logall’s voice was hoarse, barely audible above the sound of explosions and energy weapons.

  ‘Do it,’ Haden hissed. ‘Do it now.’

  ‘What – what are you doing?’ Jamie asked between rasping breaths. He could see now that Logall was crouched over a detonator, his hand poised over the firing button.

  Then Logall smashed his hand down, and ducked. Beside him, Haden flung herself to the floor, hands over her head. Jamie followed, catching sight of several others pressed back against the walls as he went.

  The sound was louder than anything so far. The initial report echoed through the fortress, followed by a low rumble of noise that built and built. The floor was shaking now, shaking much more than when the ship had docked. Jamie risked a look from between his arms as they shielded his face. At first he thought the whole corridor was full of thick choking smoke. But then it thinned and settled, and he realised that it was dust.

  The explosion had brought down the ceiling and one wall of the corridor, filling it entirely with rubble, blocking off the VETAC advance.

  Logall was on his feet already, dusting himself down. He coughed and sneezed as he surveyed the results of the detonation.

  ‘What now?’ Jamie asked between his own coughs.

  ‘Back to the Banqueting Hall. We regroup and get fresh orders.’

  Haden and the other survivors were already gathering themselves together. Several of them were limping. One needed help walking. A soldier carried a comrade over his shoulders, blood dripping to the floor in their wake.

  ‘Well, that should stop them,’ Jamie said as he caught up with Logall. As far as he could guess, the corridor must be blocked for about ten yards.

  Logall looked at him. The captain’s face was stained with smoke. Blood was smeared across his cheek. ‘You saw them,’ he said. ‘You don’t stop VETACs.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  KNIGHT MOVES

  THE NET-SLAMMER WAS inserted into a power cable, and followed it right to the main system control. It ignored life support and other essential systems, seeking out ancillary power usage and assimilating its capabilities and defences. Both were basic compared with the sorts of protected environments the program had been created to hack into and subvert.

  The slammer’s analysis together with its evaluation of what systems it could successfully attack and neutralise was fed directly back to VC5, using as a communications link the same power cable into which it had been injected. There was a typical symmetry and simplicity to the process. Elegant and efficient.

  VC5 spent something under a third of a second evaluating the data from the slammer before passing back its orders. Immediately it received its instructions, the slammer started its assault on the power and communications network of Santespri. VC5 had already moved to his next priority.

  Everyone was in the Banqueting Hall, yet the room still seemed relatively empty. People stood together in small groups, talking quietly. There was a constant, low babble of sound.

  At one end of the room the walking wounded were being tended by two soldiers with training in first aid. Victoria was doing her best to help, bathing minor wounds and dressing them. Mithrael too was tending the wounded, showing a surprising degree of proficiency with bandages.

  Jamie was with the Doctor watching as Trayx, Kesar and their command staff discussed tactics while watching the succession of images relayed to the screens set up on the table.

  ‘You should have seen those things, Doctor,’ Jamie whispered. ‘They’re vicious beasties.’

  The Doctor replied in a low voice. ‘Despite what we might think of Trayx and Kesar and the others, Jamie, you have to remember they’re part of a huge republic – an empire in all but name. They rule thousands of worlds with a rod of iron. Those are their legionnaires, the main part of their army.’

  ‘Aye, well, I can see how they keep those worlds in order.’

  ‘Hmm.’ The Doctor’s attention seemed to be back on the screen, though it showed only an empty corridor. ‘Perhaps it takes a civil war to bring home to them the problems with the way they treat others.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning they’ve now been on the receiving end of their own military might.’

  Jamie wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. There was a smear of blood across it when he pulled his hand away. ‘Aye, only we’re on the receiving end of it too.’ He tried to wipe the blood off on his tunic, but it just smeared it more. ‘I think it’s time we got back to the TARDIS, Doctor,’ he said quietly. ‘There’s no way these people can fight those things. We’d all be safe in there.’

  The Doctor sucked in his cheeks, considering. ‘What is the quickest way down to the lower levels?’ he asked Logall suddenly. ‘Down to where you first found us?’

  Logall’s face was grim. ‘There is only one way. For defensive reasons. Why do you want to know?’

  ‘There’s something down there that might help us.’

  Logall snorted, and turned away. ‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘The only way down is the other side of the collapsed section of corridor. With the VETACs.’

  ‘So we’re stuck here too,’ Jamie hissed at the Doctor. ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘We wait, Jamie.’ The Doctor saw the frustration on Jamie’s face, and patted him on the shoulder. ‘But not for long, I don’t think. They’ll make contact soon.’

  ‘Who will?’

  But Jamie’s question was drowned out by Darkling’s call. ‘I’m getting a signal, sir.’

  Trayx was nodding as if he had expected this. ‘On the screen.’

  Darkling threw a switch on the console in front of him, and the view on the main screen changed. The image of one of the staterooms was replaced with a close shot of the VETAC commander’s head. The huge metal visor seemed almost to be leaning out of the monitor towards them. Lights flickered faintly behind the heavy blast screen.

  The VETAC’s voice erupted from the speakers in the monitor, a metallic scrape of near-expressionless sound. ‘General in Chief Trayx, you will surrender Consul General Hans Kesar and his command staff to us immediately.’

  ‘If you want him,’ Trayx said levelly, ‘then you come and get him.’

  The VETAC commander showed no sign of frustration at Trayx’s reply. ‘We can kill you all at any time,’ he said. A simple statement of fact.

  The Doctor leaned forward, rubbing his chin as he watched the screen. ‘Then why don’t they? I wonder,’ he muttered.

  Before Trayx could respond, the lights went out. The whole room was plunged into sudden darkness. There was a shout, then another. Jamie heard Victoria scream. And then the monitors came back on. A moment later, a faint glow of red emergency lighting slightly alleviated the gloom.

  ‘They cut the main power,’ Darkling said.

  ‘We can see that,’ Cruger told him.

  ‘Why are the screens working then?’ Jamie asked. He was aware that practically everyone in the room was now crowded round the monitors, craning to see the VETAC commander, to hear what he was saying.

  It was Kesar who answered Jamie’s question. ‘All the battlefield systems have backup power supplies built in.’

  ‘But why do it?’ the Doctor asked. ‘What’s the point?’

  ‘What do you mean, Doctor?’ Trayx asked.

  ‘They must know you have backup systems. It demonstrates that they can shut all the main systems down – including, presumably, the life support. But you know that anyway.’

  ‘To create confusion perhaps,’ Prion suggested.

  ‘You are now without power.’ The VETAC’s voice cut across any further discussion.

  ‘Very observant of you,’ the Doctor answered loudly. Then more quietly he adde
d, ‘Stupid machine.’

  The VETAC continued as if it had not heard. ‘You have five minutes to reach a decision. If at the end of that time you do not commit to surrender Kesar to us, we shall press home our attack.’ The moment he finished speaking, the screen went blank.

  ‘They’ve cut the link,’ Darkling said.

  Trayx was staring at the blank screen. Without turning he said, ‘The reason they cut the ancillary power was to take out the lights. And the reason for that is simple. They can see in the dark, and we can’t.’ He tapped his chin with his forefinger. ‘Prion, get whatever lighting you can set up in here. Candles will do if that’s all we have.’ Next he turned to Logall. ‘We must assume they will eventually break through the main corridor, so start setting up defensive positions.’

  The Doctor was shaking his head, as if in disagreement. ‘No, no, no,’ he muttered. Then louder, ‘We’re missing something here, you know.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Why don’t they just kill us?’

  ‘They’ve got to get to us first,’ Jamie said.

  ‘No, Jamie, they haven’t. That’s the whole point. They can shut down the life support just as they can the lighting. Or they can destroy the osmotic shield which keeps the air in. I take it they don’t need to breathe?’ he asked Trayx.

  ‘They want Kesar,’ Trayx said slowly, working through it. ‘But it seems they don’t want him dead.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe they have to be sure. Or maybe Mathesohn wants Kesar alive for some reason. I just don’t know.’

  Kesar asked quietly, ‘Will you surrender me to them?’

  ‘What?’ Trayx was surprised.

  ‘It seems the line of least resistance. The logical solution to the problem.’

  ‘You know I can’t do that. There are only two possibilities: they are here to kill you or, just possibly, to rescue you. Neither is acceptable. Whatever happens to us here now, you cannot become a martyr, nor can you be set free. We would have another civil war, and this time Haddron really would be torn apart.’

  Jamie leaned close to the Doctor. ‘Cruger’s keeping very quiet.’

  ‘Yes, Jamie. But they did say they wanted Kesar and his command staff. And I think that means Cruger, don’t you?’

  Darkling was watching a chronometer on the control panel. ‘We’ve had four minutes, sir.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Trayx turned to face them all now. ‘We have an excellent defensive position here. And we will not let them have Kesar. We hold out until help arrives.’

  VC5 reopened the communications link. He already knew the likely response to his ultimatum, but there was a three per cent chance that Trayx would surrender Kesar and Cruger to him.

  ‘Have you reached a decision?’

  Trayx’s face was large on the monitor on the VETAC cruiser. Behind him, VC5 could see other people clustered round the communications equipment. The image was washed out by the infrared which tried to compensate for the lack of light. There seemed to be candles positioned around the room in the background. Expert systems linked into the monitor were already assessing the data, estimating the number of people in the room, pattern-matching their identities and their weaponry to gauge the strength and resolution of the defensive force.

  ‘We have.’ Trayx’s voice had an edge of determination to it. The percentages were dropping.

  ‘And what is your decision?’

  Trayx’s expression was unchanged. ‘We do not surrender,’ he said. ‘Our defensive position is sound, and you cannot get in. I suggest you retreat before our reinforcements arrive.’

  A predictable response. ‘Our scanners show no reinforcements, and your distress beacon was destroyed before its signal was received.’

  ‘That may be. But I repeat, you can’t get in.’

  VC5 sent a signal to his lieutenant as he closed the channel without reply. Phase Two would commence at once.

  *

  The image on the monitor faded to black. Silence. For a while nobody moved or spoke.

  ‘Well, that’s it, then,’ Jamie whispered to the Doctor.

  Victoria had joined them now, leaving Mithrael to finish doing what he could for the wounded soldiers at the other end of the Hall. ‘Do you think they can get in?’ she asked quietly as a general murmur started up. Everyone knew that this was a watershed moment. There would be no turning back now.

  The Doctor was pensive. His brow was heavy with frown lines. The general level of noise was louder now, so it was all the more surprising that his voice cut through it all and stopped it dead. ‘What was that?’ he asked sharply.

  Trayx and Kesar both turned to face the Doctor. Behind them Cruger, Darkling, Haden and Logall followed their example. Then everyone was looking at the Doctor.

  ‘Didn’t anyone else hear it?’ he asked.

  But before they could answer, a metallic scraping sound carried menacingly through the air to them. As one, everybody turned towards the noise.

  With the main monitor now a grey blank and the emergency lights little more than a red glow, the predominant lighting in the room was from the candles that Logall and his team had set up. There was a smoky quality to the air, the smell of burning wax seeming to make the atmosphere even heavier. Dark trails of smoke meandered upward from the old candles as dust burned with the wax and the wick. Somehow the fact that less of the room was visible made it seem even larger. The alcoves were dark holes in the dimly lit walls, and the ceiling was a sky of blackness high above them.

  The sound had come from one of the alcoves. But even as they stared into the unforgiving darkness, a similar sound came from further down the room.

  Directly opposite the Doctor, Jamie and Victoria a single solitary candle illuminated the suit of armour standing on its low plinth within another of the alcoves. Victoria’s eyes seemed drawn to the light of the candle, and she could almost sense the Doctor and Jamie also looking the same way. The tiny flame fluttered as if in a breeze. Multiple reflections of its pale light danced on the polished surfaces of the armour. The candlelight was liquid running over the shape, tracing its contours as it flickered and danced.

  Except that the candle’s flame moved less than the mirror images. The shape of the armour seemed to exaggerate the movement, seemed to suggest movement where there could be none.

  The metallic scrapes were growing more frequent now, joined by other sounds. There was a chinking noise, like a chain blowing against a stone wall in the wind. Creaks like ancient joints working stiffly to absorb recent oil. The screeching and tearing of tortured metal as it grated against uneven surfaces and flexed in long-forgotten ways.

  And as she listened to the sounds, Victoria realised that the illusion of movement from the armoured suit was not illusory at all. ‘It’s moving.’ she breathed. Then louder, ‘Doctor, it’s moving!’

  In the pallid half-light a huge metal hand flexed. Segmented fingers of metal creaked as the plates slid over each other. An arm reached out, slowly, emerging from the gloom into the light of several candles. A heavy steel boot slammed down on the marble floor as the figure lurched forward and down off its plinth. All along both sides of the Banqueting Hall, the armoured figures were stepping uncertainly into the flickering light. Expressionless, visored faces turned slowly back and forth as if seeking out something. Or someone.

  Rivets and bolts gleamed as they caught the light. Small lights winked into existence on the breastplates of the figures, so that in the gloom they seemed to glow with inner life.

  Victoria realised she was clutching the Doctor tightly to her. Jamie seemed to have both of them wrapped in his arms as they backed away, towards the main door. The trio circled slowly, a bizarre dance across the candlelit floor as they twisted and watched and tracked a path through the slowly advancing creatures.

  All around them, the soldiers were making for the door with similar wariness. Logall and several of his men were backing cautiously away, herding the others ahead of them as they faced back at the suited figures, weapons levelled.
r />   ‘What are they?’ Victoria asked, her voice breaking in the effort to avoid sobbing.

  ‘VETACs.’ Kesar’s brittle voice was close to them as everyone clustered in the doorway. ‘They have waited dormant here for years. Relics of bygone battles and distant ages.’

  ‘Not the latest models,’ Prion said. ‘But efficient and deadly enough.’

  ‘At least now we know what Sponslor was doing,’ Trayx added.

  Prion nodded. ‘He reset the command frequency to the same network as the attackers.’

  Logall and his men were dangerously close to the VETACs now. ‘What do we do, sir?’ he shouted back over his shoulder.

  ‘Any suggestions, Doctor?’

  ‘As it happens, yes,’ the Doctor said. ‘Run!’

  The movement of the VETACs was getting less jerky, as if they were growing used to their renewed mobility. Rather than lurching slowly, raggedly forward, they were now marching. The figures formed a V-shaped formation, the point of the V towards the people now turning to run from the room. Behind them, more of the massive creatures were turning towards the wounded at the far end of the hall.

  Several of the unwounded soldiers had also been at the far end of the room, together with Mithrael. Now they were cut off from the main party, caught behind the VETACs. They tried to push their way through, but three of the huge metal figures were facing them. Fire erupted from their outstretched arms and engulfed the screaming soldiers, wounded and able-bodied alike.

  Logall hesitated long enough to loose a volley of energy bolts at the leading VETAC. The shots splashed across the VETAC’s chest. It seemed to glow for a moment, rocking back on its feet. But then the colour drained away and the metal beneath was unmarked. In response, a bolt of lighting ripped out from the raised hand of the metal figure. It stabbed across the room, lancing into the soldier beside Logall and knocking the man off his feet. He crashed to the floor and lay still.