‘Oh?’
‘Oh yes. Ask poor old Middleton about his game at chess. I had to help him write a short poem to get out of that one.’ He pondered the pieces in front of him. ‘Checkmate by discovery, perhaps?’
Cruger frowned. ‘What’s wrong, Doctor?’ His tone was insistent. ‘Play the move.’
‘Yes,’ the Doctor murmured, ‘“for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle and I would call it fair play”.’
‘What?’
‘The Tempest.’ The Doctor was smiling. ‘Miranda accuses Ferdinand of cheating at chess. Remember?’
Cruger shook his head. ‘I do not know the work.’
‘I meant, do you remember cheating?’ Before Cruger could reply, the Doctor went on: ‘You know, I wondered about this chess set. Carving it, making things. Not really your bent, is it? So, why do it?’ He raised his eyebrows as he asked the question. ‘Something to while away the endless empty hours? No. Like your little problem here, there’s more to it than that.’
‘Is there?’
‘Oh yes, I think so. You needed to construct a signalling device. You knew you were kept under observation, at least for some of the time. So what could you do that would conceal the fact that you were actually calling for help?’ The Doctor’s hand hovered over the board, pointing at one piece after another. ‘Which one is the signal device concealed inside?’
‘Play the move, Doctor.’ Cruger’s voice was loud, almost a shout. ‘If you can, then play the move.’
‘All right,’ the Doctor snapped back. ‘Don’t rush me.’ He picked up the black knight again. ‘Now this piece feels a little unbalanced to me, a bit top heavy.’ He tossed it into the air, watching as Cruger took an involuntary step backwards before he caught it again. Then he seemed to fumble the catch, and the knight slipped from hand to hand as he scrabbled to catch it again.
Cruger was backing away more quickly now.
‘Oh, butterfingers,’ the Doctor chided himself amiably as he regained his grip on the chess piece. ‘Oh look. What have we here?’ Somehow he had prised the base from the knight. He held out the two parts for Cruger to see. ‘And you know, there’s something inside here too,’ he said as he peered into the body of the knight. He sniffed cautiously, grimaced, and pushed the figure back on to its base. ‘Smells rather like Zenon to me.’
The Doctor looked up at Cruger, and, if he was surprised to see that the man was now holding a gun, he did not show it.
‘Very volatile stuff, Zenon. Especially Zenon VII,’ the Doctor rebuked Cruger. ‘Align a critical mass of it along the lines of force and the whole lot could go up.’
‘Exactly, Doctor.’ Cruger’s eyes narrowed as he approached the Doctor. ‘The correct configuration of pieces containing Zenon, the answer to a puzzle, and another problem disappears.’
‘Goes up in smoke, no doubt.’
‘Indeed.’
The Doctor was backing away round the board as Cruger approached. He still held the black knight as they circled the table. As Cruger was in the corner of the room, behind the table, the door opposite opened. From Kesar’s sleeping quarters, Trayx and Kesar emerged. Jamie, Victoria and Helana were close behind them. Prion came out last, limping badly. One side of his face was burned away to the scorched metal beneath. His tunic was ripped and torn from the side of his tarnished chest.
‘Checkmate, I think, Cruger.’ Trayx was smiling grimly.
‘I think not,’ Cruger replied. ‘I have the gun.’ He levelled it at Trayx. ‘Time to say your goodbyes, I suggest.’
‘Oh, do you think so?’ the Doctor said before Cruger could fire. He was holding his hand up, as if to wave. Then he seemed to notice that he was still holding the chess piece. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ he said in apparent alarm. ‘Here, catch.’
It seemed almost a reflex action as the Doctor threw his hands up, tossing the black knight towards Cruger. It arced through the air, apparently on a course directly to Cruger’s reaching hand. But then the knight twisted oddly, the top dipping, spinning the piece about its offset centre of gravity. It fell short of Cruger’s desperate reach, clattering instead on to the chessboard. The knight landed perfectly on its base, rocking slightly, then righting itself in the middle of a black square close to the faceless white king.
Cruger was already turning, trying to get away from the board as the knight came to rest. But he was against the wall, the board itself between him and escape.
The explosion seemed to start with the knight. It erupted into a smoky orange fireball. A split second later, the pieces closest to it detonated too. The explosion spread across the board, outward from the knight, like a wave of bright orange fire. The sound was like a gunshot rattling and ricocheting round the room.
Cruger was covering his face with blistering hands, screaming and shouting as the dark smoke drifted slowly across the room. He collapsed to his knees with a moan.
‘That sound,’ Kesar croaked. ‘I shall never forget that sound.’ His face was turned blankly towards Trayx.
Nor I,’ Trayx agreed. ‘The corridor at the Senate that day. That awful day.’
‘And the colour,’ Kesar went on. ‘Fiery death.’
Cruger was still on his knees, staring at his damaged hands in disbelief. His beard was singed into black streaks, and his face was red and blotched by the intense heat. His blaster lay forgotten on the floor close by.
Victoria ran to the Doctor, Jamie close behind. ‘Doctor,’ she said, ‘you’re all right.’
‘Oh yes, I’m fine, thank you. Quite well.’
But the smile was wiped from his face by the sound of a large explosion from the corridor outside. Like an after-echo of the detonation in the room, the sound reverberated through the Secure Area. A moment later there were shouts, gunfire, and running feet.
The whole shutter had exploded inward. The VETACs were through the gap almost before Sanjak and the others had realised what had happened. Lanphier got off two blasts before he turned and ran. Sanjak and Felda were close behind him.
The VETAC assault leader pounded down the corridor after them, his legionnaires forcing their way through the remains of the shutter one after another.
And behind the assault force was VL9, marching along the battle-scarred corridor to join his troops at the front.
The room was crowded with the three soldiers joining the others. A moment later the first VETAC appeared in the doorway. Sanjak, Felda and Lanphier were already aiming, about to fire.
‘Wait.’ The Doctor’s voice was loud, carrying easily above the sound of marching feet and the noise of the explosions still ringing in everyone’s ears. ‘I suggest that we surrender.’ He looked across at Trayx.
For a moment Trayx said nothing. His face was expressionless, set. Then, slowly, he nodded. ‘Lay down your weapons,’ he ordered with a heavy sigh.
As soon as the soldiers put down their blasters and stood back, the VETAC in the doorway lowered its arm and stepped into the room. Another followed, and then another. They stood round the door, facing their captives without comment.
Darkling watched from behind a tapestry as VL9 strode through the shattered remains of the main doors to the Secure Area. How many times had he and Haden parted company at those doors? How many times had he locked her inside? But never again. Through the debris, Darkling could see VL9 pushing his way through the hole in the outer shutter.
He stepped out into the corridor, about to follow. And a hand clamped down on his shoulder, pushed him forwards towards what was left of the doors.
‘You will join the other prisoners in the Secure Area,’ the VETAC intoned.
Prisoners – then Trayx had surrendered. Against all the odds, and for whatever reason, the General in Chief had yielded. And in doing so, had unknowingly just saved Darkling’s life.
VL9 made his way to the centre of the room and looked round at the assembled humans.
‘Kesar.’ His voice was firm, arrogant, assured. ‘We have come for you.’
Slowly
Kesar stepped forward, turning his blank metal mask to face the VETAC lieutenant’s own.
‘What is this?’ the VETAC demanded as Kesar stood in front of him.
‘It is Kesar.’ Cruger’s voice was a hoarse croak from the back of the room. He forced his way through to join them. ‘He was injured. His face, his hands, his voice, all have been replaced. But a DNA scan will confirm his identity.’ He turned to Kesar, bowing his head stiffly, painfully. ‘Your safety is assured, your rescue at hand, my Lord.’
Kesar reached out, pushing Cruger’s shoulder back slightly so that he was forced to look up, into Kesar’s blank, bronzed face. The voice was the same metallic rasp as ever, but there was a depth to it now, a kind of resignation.
‘Rescue, Cruger? I am afraid not,’ Kesar said. Slowly he raised his hands to his face, reaching behind the mask for the tiny wing nuts that held it in place. They clattered to the floor as he twisted them off. Then he lifted the mask away, dropping that too. It impacted heavily on the stone floor, rolling on to its cheek with a scraping sound.
Cruger gasped, scorched hand to his mouth.
Beneath the mask, the man’s face was perfectly intact. There was no trace of scarring or burn marks from the explosion. Just a sad, pale face, the pallor of the skin almost grey from lack of daylight.
‘You!’ Cruger was shaking his head in disbelief.
‘Yes,’ Gerhart Rutger replied. ‘Me.’
Behind Rutger, Helana Trayx gave a small cry, and turned away.
Her husband said, ‘Why so surprised, Cruger? It was a Zenon VII device that killed Kesar that day, under the Senate. The sound, the colour of the flames are unmistakable. Your bomb, I think.’
‘What’s happening, Doctor?’ Jamie hissed. ‘Who is that if the real Kesar is dead?’
‘I don’t know, Jamie. But they couldn’t let Kesar become a martyr, remember. Not now, and certainly not then.’
VL9 had watched the events without comment, until now. ‘The DNA scan confirms that this is not Kesar.’ He turned slowly towards Cruger. ‘The chain of command is altered.’
‘Yes,’ Cruger said. His face was cracked into a sudden smile. The skin round his mouth, over his beard, was peeling back under the tension. ‘Yes, it was my bomb. With Kesar dead, a martyr, his followers would have rallied under a new leader. But the moment has merely been postponed. And it is all the sweeter for that.’ He turned to VL9. ‘Prepare to execute the prisoners,’ he said. ‘All of them.’
‘Wait.’ Trayx’s voice cut through the air. ‘You are in no position to give commands, especially after that confession.’
‘On the contrary.’ Cruger’s voice was almost sickly. ‘The Fifth Legion is loyal to Kesar, not to you, Trayx.’
‘But Kesar is dead,’ Rutger pointed out.
‘Exactly. So these VETACs now take their orders from the next person in Kesar’s chain of command.’ Cruger nodded, savouring the moment. ‘They take their orders from me.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE DEATH OF KINGS
‘WHATEVER THE CHAIN of command,’ Trayx said, ‘your loyalty is to Haddron. To the Republic.’
‘Oh no, Trayx.’ Cruger was almost laughing. ‘That won’t work. You know it won’t.’
‘Kesar was defeated,’ Rutger said. ‘He surrendered. And with him, his forces also capitulated at Trophinamon.’
VL9 swung round so his massive body was facing Rutger. ‘This legion did not surrender.’
It was at this moment that Darkling stumbled into the room, falling through the line of VETACs by the door. Sanjak ran to help him up, but a VETAC grabbed him, held him back.
Darkling pulled himself to his feet. His eyes were wide as he looked round the group, searching. Eventually he fixed on Cruger.
‘You will join your comrades,’ VL9 said.
But Darkling was not listening. ‘There you are,’ he snarled at Cruger as he pulled himself to his feet. ‘You murdering bastard.’ He launched himself forward, past VL9, his hands reaching for Cruger’s face. ‘I’ll kill you!’ he screamed.
Cruger’s jaw dropped and he stepped backwards, shaking his head in disbelief and fear. He could see death in Darkling’s eyes.
But before Darkling reached Cruger, VL9 had plucked the soldier out of the air and slapped him aside with a single massive blow. Darkling crashed to the ground, his head connecting with the stone floor with a loud crack. He convulsed, once, then lay still. A trickle of blood drew a line between the flagstones.
‘The chain of command is paramount,’ VL9 said slowly. ‘What are your orders, General Cruger?’
Helana was crying, burying her head in Trayx’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her. ‘Don’t worry, my darling,’ he said, loud enough for Cruger to hear. ‘What can he do? One man and a single Legion, against the Republic.’
‘You underestimate my influence,’ Cruger said. ‘And your Republic is already cracking open at the edges. The very centre is flawed and will split asunder.’
‘Yes, well,’ the Doctor said, ‘I have a few ideas about that, actually.’
‘Shut up,’ Cruger hissed.
‘Of course, if you’d rather not hear them –’
‘Be quiet!’
‘So what are you going to do with us?’ Jamie asked.
Victoria’s face was drawn and pale. ‘Are you going to kill us?’
‘Eventually.’
With a scraping, scratching sound, Prion pulled himself forward. His left leg was trailing, dragging along the floor behind him. ‘What in-flu-ence?’ His words were disjointed and slurred. His shattered face turned towards Cruger.
Cruger stared back at him, his lip curling in disdain. ‘What is that to you, a mere automaton?’
‘What in-flu-ence?’ Prion repeated, his voice gaining some strength.
Cruger turned away, but the Doctor’s voice stayed him: ‘Oh, I think the question deserves an answer,’ he said. ‘We’re not all automatons, you know.’ The Doctor’s face was suddenly in shadow as he leaned towards Cruger. ‘What influence?’
‘I have been building a power base back on Haddron,’ Cruger said dismissively. ‘Canvassing support in the name of Kesar.’
As Cruger made to address VL9, Prion lurched forward, another halting step towards Cruger. ‘Then my sec-ondary prog-ram relates to you.’ He was raising his arm, slowly, painfully. There was an audible whirr of motors from within the forearm as the small blaster nozzle clicked up into position, pointing directly at Cruger.
Beside Prion, Trayx’s mouth dropped open. ‘You,’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘Mathesohn’s agent.’ But his words were obliterated by the roar of noise as Prion fired.
Cruger had realised the danger almost too late. ‘Protect me!’ he screamed to the VETACs as he dived for cover, rolling away from the blast towards the door.
Behind where Cruger had been a moment earlier a VETAC legionnaire exploded into smoke and flame. Its fellows returned fire, sending Trayx and Rutger scurrying for cover together with the other soldiers. Trayx dragged his wife with him as he hit the floor. The Doctor had his arms round Victoria and Jamie, was pulling them down behind a chair. A second later their heads emerged round the sides as they watched the battle.
Prion was blasted back against the wall, the remaining synthetic skin was burning on his face as he swung round, trying to acquire his target.
But Cruger was running for the door, lunging towards it as the VETACs closed ranks behind him.
Then he screamed. It was a sound that embraced fear and surprise and anger all at once. ‘No – wait, stop!’ were the only discernible words in the sound. It was enough to halt the VETACs. They stood silently to attention awaiting new orders. Prion also waited, the side of his face running down the metal skull in ragged tears.
Darkling staggered through the VETACs. One half of his head was caked in blood, and his teeth were clenched with effort and determination. He was dragging Cruger behind him, one hand clamped over the general’s mouth, the other braced round his sho
ulders.
Cruger was kicking and struggling, trying to wrench himself free. His screams and shouts were inarticulate gasps and squeals that escaped through Darkling’s fingers.
‘Here he is,’ Darkling shouted, pulling Cruger in front of him, holding him out towards Prion, arms tight round him. ‘Now finish this.’ Cruger twisted as he struggled to break free, turned back towards Darkling. His face was a mask of fear and anger.
Darkling’s lips were drawn back over his teeth. ‘Make it look good,’ he spat.
The blast caught both Cruger and Darkling as one, eating through their armour and scorching away the flesh beneath. Darkling still held Cruger tight as the older man shrieked. Cruger’s mouth was wrenched open with the pain as he screamed his life out. Darkling was screaming too, but with laughter. Then the fireball engulfed them both.
The room was quiet and still for a long while. Helana’s sobs were the only sound. The VETACs stood impassive. Prion was leaning against the wall, his face and the front of his body a shattered wreck. Slowly the Doctor stood up from behind the chair. Jamie and Victoria emerged behind him.
Trayx sat his wife down on a chair and turned to VL9. ‘What happens to the chain of command now?’ he demanded.
VL9 turned slowly, as if considering his response. ‘Command reverts,’ he said at last. ‘The Fifth Legion presents itself to General in Chief Trayx for orders.’
Trayx nodded with grim satisfaction. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘You may stand down.’
VL9 bowed slightly, then turned to leave. His legionnaires fell into line behind him. Their movements seemed slightly sluggish.
‘Wait,’ Trayx called out as VL9 reached the door.
The robot swung round to face him. ‘Sir.’
‘Tell your legionnaires that they acquitted themselves well this day.’ Trayx nodded. ‘Carry on, VETAC commander. You have earned your field commission.’
VC5, as he now was, turned again. And when he marched from the room, the sluggishness was gone. His legionnaires followed, proud and massive after the battle.
Doctor Who: Dreams of Empire: 50th Anniversary Edition Page 26
