Doctor Who: Dreams of Empire: 50th Anniversary Edition

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Doctor Who: Dreams of Empire: 50th Anniversary Edition Page 23

by Richards, Justin


  ‘Your comrades will be executed.’

  ‘You mean General Cruger, I assume.’

  The voice was lacking in appreciable emotion, but Jamie sensed an air of satisfaction as the VETAC commander replied, ‘I mean Trooper Sanjak, Victoria Waterfield, and Lady Helana Trayx.’

  The effect of the words hung silent and heavy over the table. A nerve ticked below Trayx’s eye. Kesar was as unreadable as ever. The Doctor’s face was stern, lined with concern. Jamie looked from one to the other, not daring to speak, hardly daring to breathe.

  Through the silence, Victoria’s voice emerged uncannily from Prion’s lips. ‘Doctor, Jamie.’ A sob, then, ‘Oh, Doctor, I’m sorry.’

  Almost at once, Victoria’s voice changed back to the harsh rasp of the VETAC. ‘You have one hour to deliver Kesar to us.’

  As the VETAC commander finished speaking, Prion blinked twice. When he spoke again, his voice was his own. ‘Transmission ended. Connection severed.’

  ‘That doesn’t give us much time,’ the Doctor said. ‘Jamie, I shall need your help if we’re to rescue Victoria and the others in less than an hour.’

  Jamie felt a smile spreading over his face. The Doctor had a plan. He always had a plan. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Well first,’ the Doctor said as everyone leaned forward to catch his words, ‘we need to capture a VETAC.’

  A space had been cleared at the far end of the table. Helana, Victoria and Sanjak were seated there now. Haden could see that Sanjak had a bruise coming to the surface on his cheek and Helana’s arm was in a makeshift sling. All three looked exhausted, and the women were obviously frightened, though Victoria was also defiant.

  VC5 had finished delivering his ultimatum, and now stood facing the prisoners. Cruger was close by, his lips twisted into the merest hint of a smile.

  ‘You traitor.’ Helana’s accusation was directed not at Cruger but at the VETAC. ‘Why are you doing this?’

  VC5’s answer was immediate. ‘For the good of Haddron. For the empire.’

  ‘Haddron is a republic,’ Sanjak said. ‘It always will be.’

  ‘Watch your tongue,’ Cruger snapped, ‘or I shall have it cut out.’

  VC5’s response was less violent. ‘The republic is weakening. It needs a central power to hold it together. An empire would have the stability the republic lacks. This is for the good of Haddron.’

  ‘And for an empire, you need an emperor,’ Victoria said. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘Correct.’

  Haden could see Cruger’s smile widen at this. A glint of teeth in the candlelight.

  But VC5’s words froze the smile on his face. ‘Kesar will be emperor,’ the VETAC intoned. ‘A powerful, charismatic figurehead is key to an efficient and lasting centralised empire.’ He paused. ‘We need Kesar,’ VC5 said at last. ‘Haddron needs Kesar.’

  Helana’s voice was quieter, more controlled when she answered. ‘Haddron needs peace. The civil war brought us to our knees. Another would be the coup de grâce.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Cruger retorted quickly.

  But Sanjak was already on his feet. ‘You claim this is for the good of Haddron?’ he said before Cruger could interrupt further. ‘Yet for the good of Haddron we had the war; for the good of Haddron we fought and killed each other; for the good of Haddron we weakened the republic to the point of collapse.’ He sat down again, as if exhausted by his outburst. ‘And what started the war?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Enough of this,’ Cruger hissed through clenched teeth.

  Sanjak ignored Cruger. His hand was a fist, thumping on the table in time to his own answer.’ ‘You did. The Fifth Legion.’

  ‘Explain.’ The VETAC’s voice rolled like thunder round the Hall. For once, Cruger seemed at a loss for words.

  Instead, Haden stepped forward. It was time, she decided, to get involved. ‘The disappearance of the Fifth Legion,’ she said, choosing her words with care, ‘is seen by some as the flashpoint, the deciding moment when war became inevitable.’ She watched Cruger closely as she listened to the VETAC’s reply.

  ‘We were ordered into reserve,’ VC5 said. His massive frame was swinging slowly round until he faced Cruger. ‘We were ordered back to a reserve point by General Cruger.’

  Jamie was listening in astonishment and disbelief to the Doctor’s instructions. ‘Now, Jamie, when you’ve found a VETAC, it’s very important you don’t destroy it. What I need is its command circuit.’

  ‘I don’t think finding it will be the problem.’

  ‘Oh, jolly good. You know what a VETAC command circuit looks like then, do you?’

  ‘I meant finding a VETAC,’ Jamie said through half-clenched teeth. As if to emphasise the point, there was a loud crash from the direction of the main doors.

  ‘Oh,’ the Doctor said, ‘yes, I see.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Now then, as I say, it’s the command circuit we need. Prion can go with you, and I dare say Trayx can spare someone else too.’

  ‘Indeed, Doctor,’ Trayx said. ‘But I should like to know what you intend.’

  ‘Well, the VETACs could monitor our signals through the virtual network, yes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, if we knew the frequency, there’s no reason why Prion here couldn’t monitor their communications in the same way. Is there?’

  ‘No,’ said Trayx slowly. ‘No, there isn’t.’ He turned to Prion. ‘That is possible?’

  ‘Given the correct frequency.’

  ‘But that’s hardly a weapon, Doctor,’ Jamie pointed out. ‘They’ll still kill Victoria and the others.’

  The Doctor looked crestfallen, hurt by the accusation. ‘One thing at a time Jamie,’ he said sulkily. ‘One thing at a time.’ Then, suddenly, he brightened. ‘Now –’ the Doctor clapped his hands together – ‘I have a question for you.’ He was looking pointedly at Trayx.

  ‘Yes, Doctor?’

  ‘Why didn’t you allow Kesar to speak to the VETAC commander just now? In fact, if they’re here to rescue him, why didn’t you –’ he pointed at Kesar – ‘just tell them to surrender?’

  There was a long pause. Eventually, Kesar spoke. ‘My voiceprint would be in their command circuit. But this is not my voice.’

  ‘They must have other means of identification, surely.’

  ‘Retina scans, pattern-matching of facial features. Neither of these would work either. DNA analysis can only be performed in actual close proximity.’

  ‘To have Kesar speak, and for the VETAC commander not to recognise him, might compromise our potential advantage before we can use it,’ Trayx said.

  ‘Oh,’ the Doctor replied slowly. ‘I see.’

  But Jamie sensed that somehow he did not fully accept their reasoning.

  Both Felda and Lanphier were as incredulous as Jamie had been when he explained to them what they had to do.

  ‘You’re mad,’ Lanphier told him, looking to Prion for support but getting no reaction at all.

  ‘We only need one,’ Jamie pointed out, not unreasonably, he thought.

  But Felda shook his head. ‘Suicide,’ he said. ‘Even if we could isolate one VETAC, Lanphier’s right – it’s madness. And as it is we’re stuck in here and they’re out there.’ He pointed to the heavy metal doors at the end of the passage. They were glowing brilliant red now under the VETAC onslaught.

  Jamie frowned. ‘Those won’t hold for an hour,’ he said.

  ‘Too right,’ Lanphier agreed.

  ‘Prognosis is twelve minutes at current rate of energy absorption,’ Prion said.

  ‘The VETAC commander must know that.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘So why give us a whole hour? He’ll be in long before then.’

  ‘No he won’t,’ Felda said. ‘When it looks like they’re about through those, we’ll drop the shutters.’

  ‘Shutters?’

  Prion pointed out slots in the ceiling along the corridor above their heads. ‘There are three blast-resistant shutters.
They are not as strong as the doors, but they will keep the VETACs out for a while longer.’

  ‘They’ll get in eventually,’ Lanphier said with a shrug. ‘He’s just getting impatient.’

  But Jamie was not listening. He was looking at the ceiling, thinking. ‘If these shutters will keep the VETACs out,’ he said, ‘would they keep one in?’

  The hardest thing was not persuading Lanphier and Felda to give his plan a try, but convincing them that they should hasten the process of destroying the main doors. To the two soldiers, twelve minutes more was very probably an extension to their lives that they were loath to give up. But to Jamie it was twelve minutes closer to Victoria’s execution.

  Eventually, they agreed. With Prion estimating that the doors might hold for another nine minutes or more, Lanphier and Felda took up positions down the corridor and aimed their blasters back at the doors. Prion stood by the controls for the shutters, since Jamie had to admit that the automaton’s reactions and judgement were likely to be better than his own. He still did not trust or like Prion, but his personal animosity gave way to pragmatism.

  The doors exploded inward almost as soon as the soldiers fired. Jamie ducked back into an alcove as a ball of smoke and flames rolled towards him ahead of the blast. When he looked back, the smoke was clearing slightly and he could see a large jagged hole in the centre of the doors. As he watched, the light from behind was blocked out by a huge shape. A moment later the first VETAC legionnaire was through the hole and heading down the corridor. Behind it, others were pouring through the gap.

  At once Jamie was relieved he had let Prion stand at the controls. The VETACs were much faster than he had expected. Despite their size they seemed to sprint down the corridor towards Lanphier and Felda, who were putting up a largely ineffectual crossfire.

  ‘Now!’ Jamie shouted. Prion had already reacted, and the first of the shutters – the one closest to the main doors – came slamming down. Three VETACs were already past it, and immediately it was down, the shutter shook violently. Judging by the sound that accompanied this, Jamie guessed that one of the VETACs had smashed into the shutter at full speed. Perhaps deliberately. But the shutter held.

  And now the second shutter was dropping, slicing down at the three VETACs. It caught the second a glancing blow on the shoulder, knocking it backwards off its feet. There was just one VETAC left now, flame erupting from its built-in weapons as it tried to acquire a target, sighting back along the blast wave from Lanphier’s gun. The soldier dived out of the way as the floor where he had been standing erupted into flame.

  Now it was up to Prion to time things right. Jamie could feel his thumb pressing into the side of his index finger as he clenched his fist. Now – now was the moment.

  Prion pressed the button.

  The third shutter dropped.

  To Jamie it seemed to happen in slow motion. The shutter was falling, its weight dragging it heavily towards the floor. The VETAC was charging forward, flames and smoke surrounding it as it fired again, this time at Felda. For a long, breath-held moment it seemed that the shutter would miss the VETAC, would fall too late and let it through. But then metal connected with metal.

  ‘Direct hit!’ Felda shouted, the elation evident in his voice.

  The shutter was across the VETAC’s shoulder, had stopped it dead, was bearing it slowly to the ground. The huge robot collapsed to one knee, then the other, as the shutter forced its way down. Now the creature was leaning backward under the enormous weight, pushing back at the lower edge of the shutter, trying to lift it clear, to pull itself through the ever-decreasing gap.

  And the shutter stopped. Slowly it started to lift again. Jamie could see the VETAC struggling to brace its legs beneath the weight, to stand upright, to pull through.

  Then Lanphier stepped forward, sighted carefully along his blaster, and fired. The bolt of energy connected with the VETAC’s wrist, eating through the weak point where the joint was pulled to its limit as the VETAC lifted the shutter.

  The wrist joint gave way with a crack. The VETAC’s gauntleted hand was blown off its arm and clattered to the floor. Unable now to sustain its fight against the weight of the shutter, the VETAC fell backward. The shutter pinned it on its back to the floor, the lower half of its body on the far side while the head and shoulders were pointing towards Jamie and his team.

  ‘Now comes the tricky bit,’ Jamie said. He nodded to Prion, who approached the VETAC cautiously.

  The creature was still struggling, its arms flailing and slapping against the shutter. Its head was twisting to and fro violently. Energy bolts whistled past Jamie’s ear as the VETAC tried to blast its way through the shutter, sending ricochets whistling and whining down the corridor.

  ‘The arms.’ Jamie called to Lanphier and Felda, ‘try to get the arms.’

  They hammered away at the flailing arms with the butts of their blasters, but it seemed to have little effect. Meanwhile, Prion was on his knees by the VETAC’s head. His fingers were working their way inside the helmet, in through the neck joint. Jamie crouched beside him, trying to get a grip on the head, to hold it still.

  Prion’s whole hand was inside the helmet now, dark viscous liquid pouring out over his wrist as the head thrashed from side to side. A low growling sound was coming from the VETAC, its movements becoming more violent.

  One of its arms caught Lanphier on the side of the leg, knocking him off his feet. He collapsed heavily to the floor with a curse.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Felda shouted.

  ‘I’ll live.’

  Then suddenly the VETAC was silent. The growling stopped, the arms sagged, then fell back to the floor. Prion withdrew his hand from the helmet. In his palm was an oily, gooey mess of the viscous liquid. And nestling in that was a small circuit.

  ‘Is that it?’ Jamie asked.

  Prion nodded. ‘That is it,’ he said.

  It took the Doctor only a minute to connect the greasy component into the electronics within Prion’s chest. Prion was sitting by the chessboard, the Doctor reaching under his tunic.

  ‘How’s that?’ he asked rubbing his oily hands on his handkerchief.

  ‘Accessing the virtual network.’ Prion looked up at the Doctor. ‘I’m in.’

  ‘Good. Now then, where are Victoria and the others being held?’

  ‘The Banqueting Hall. Cruger and Haden are also there.’

  ‘Right then.’ The Doctor straightened up. ‘Let’s go.’

  ‘Go?’ Trayx asked. ‘Go where?’

  ‘To rescue Victoria,’ Jamie told him.

  ‘And how do you propose we do that, Doctor?’ Kesar asked.

  ‘With the help of our friend Prion, here. Now that he’s tapped into the VETAC network, he can broadcast a signal that overloads their command network. Something to disorient and confuse them while we rescue Victoria and the others.’

  Trayx’s mouth dropped open. ‘Is that possible?’ he asked Prion. ‘Can it be done?’

  ‘It can –’ Prion began to say.

  ‘Of course it can,’ the Doctor interrupted. ‘Now we just need to get close enough to the Banqueting Hall, and then we’ll send the signal. I wonder if your man Darkling is still around.’ He grinned. ‘Who’s coming, then?’

  ‘There is a problem.’ Everyone turned to Prion. ‘In theory the Doctor’s plan is possible,’ he said. ‘But to broadcast such a signal across the whole command net would require considerable energy.’

  ‘How much energy?’ the Doctor asked, his voice suddenly quiet.

  ‘To ensure the VETAC network is completely disabled for at least thirty seconds, forty-seven gigawatts.’

  This meant nothing to Jamie, though it sounded like a lot. ‘How much do you have at the moment?’ he asked.

  ‘Gigawatts?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Less than one,’ Prion admitted.

  ‘And,’ Kesar said, ‘they’ve shut off the main power.’

  ‘Well,’ said Jamie throwing up his hands,
‘that’s that, then.’

  ‘Yes,’ the Doctor admitted quietly, his face glum. ‘I’m very much afraid it is.’ He looked round at the expectant faces of his friends. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  RISKS AND GAMBITS

  A MUTTERING AT first, but growing in volume, as if coming closer. Voices in the blackness. Darkling shifted position, feeling the hard surface against his back. He was drifting, as if in a dreamland in which Haden was alternately embracing him and shooting him. Then, as if a switch was thrown, he was awake and alert.

  He held his breath, a thousand worries and dangers crowding in on him. Had he made a noise moving? Had he been seen lurking in the shadows on the gallery from the Banqueting Hall below? Had he cried out in his sleep – or snored even? But after a short while, when there were no shouts or shots or signs of movement around him, Darkling relaxed a little and breathed again. He inched his way quietly closer to the edge of the gallery and peered carefully through the balustrades into the room below.

  At the end of the long table he could see Sanjak together with Helana and the girl who had come with the Doctor. Nearby Haden was standing beside Cruger. He traced the outline of her body with his eyes, imagining it through the distorting shape of the heavy, angular battle armour. She was not wearing a helmet, and he could see her face, her eyes, her lips. She looked slightly nervous, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  By contrast, Cruger was standing almost to attention, his chin jutting out as he spoke with the VETAC commander.

  *

  ‘Doctor, we have only half an hour,’ Kesar said. ‘Is there any chance that your plan can be made to work?’

  ‘Not without the extra power,’ the Doctor admitted. ‘If only there were some way of enhancing Prion’s capabilities, generating more power or channelling some energy from somewhere.’

  ‘Could we adapt the blaster power packs?’ Lanphier asked.

  Prion shook his head. ‘The process would take time, and we would need several hundred power packs.’

  Felda gave a short laugh. ‘We’ve got about three.’

  ‘The shuttle has a power supply, as does the VETAC cruiser of course,’ Trayx said thoughtfully. ‘But I doubt we could get to either.’

 

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