‘The gelem warriors are not mine,’ said the Jal Karath.
‘Blimey, you lot are rude!’ the Doctor exclaimed indignantly. ‘Always butting in.’ He nodded at the silent white figures behind him. ‘So what are this lot then?
Scotch mist?’
‘These creatures were created by Veec-9. I was able to intercept and reprogram them as search units.’
‘And when you detected my sonic you thought it was Veec-9 using stolen technology, so you sent them to pick him up?’
‘Quite so.’
‘But instead you got me. Just an innocent bloke passing through.’
The Jal Karath was silent for a moment. Then it said, ‘Your bio scan confirms that you are not a native of this world, but my scanner is unable to identify your planet of origin.’
‘Well, I’m not surprised,’ said the Doctor glibly. ‘I mean, look at this mess. I bet half your systems are on the blink.’ He leaned forward to examine a dial linked to one of the pulsing strands of web and gave it a tap. ‘How are
your zytron shields?’ he asked casually.
‘My zytron shields?’
‘Yeah. Cos the thing is, zytron energy is leaking out of somewhere like nobody’s business. People are dropping like flies. And if that’s down to you, then galactic law states that your vehicle could be impounded. If you’re found negligent, you might even get banged up on one of the prison planets. As I’m sure you know, Darac-7, zytron energy is very nasty stuff. And the authorities come down like a ton of bricks on pilots who—’
‘My shielding is fine,’ said the Jal Karath quickly. ‘The safety of the indigenous population of any planet on which I make landfall is of paramount importance to me.
If my craft was leaking harmful elements into the atmosphere my pulse sensors would inform me of it immediately.’
‘Not if your pulse sensors were playing up, they wouldn’t.’
‘I assure you…what is your name?’
‘Just call me Doctor.’
‘I assure you, Doctor, that the problem does not lie with my vessel. Veec-9’s vessel is old, decrepit—’
‘What, even compared to this one?’ said the Doctor rudely.
The Jal Karath fell silent. The Doctor looked up at it, eyes narrowed. At last he said, ‘All right, let’s say I accept what you’re telling me. How will Veec-9 create and transport a whole army of gelem warriors? I mean, that’s a heck of an undertaking for a single bloke in a one-man ship.’
‘The latest intelligence transmitted from the eleven Hives informs me that Veec-9 will not create the majority of his warriors on this world,’ replied the Jal Karath. ‘He will use the small number of warriors he has created here to harvest his required number of the planet’s population.
Until he is ready to depart he will imprison these captives within a stasis barrier contained behind a glamour shield.
When the time comes he will use funds supplied by his misguided supporters to employ mercenaries, who will transport the prisoners to the planet – one of the many thousands of dead planets which surround Jal Paloor –where he has established his base. That is where the extraction process will take place. Although we know this, what we do not know is on precisely which planet Veec-9
is building up his forces. Any one of them would be ideally positioned for launching an attack on the home world.’
Grimly the Doctor asked, ‘And what is his “required number” of humans?’
‘We believe that Veec-9 hopes to yield at least ten thousand gelem warriors from each planet he harvests.’
‘Fifty thousand people,’ said the Doctor quietly, his voice burning with fury. ‘Fifty thousand lives snuffed out in those filthy machines. And this is just the place to suck up the raw material, isn’t it? The poor of India – the sick, the downtrodden, the dispossessed. No one will miss them. They’re already non-people, forgotten and unmourned. Fifty thousand terrified human beings ending their lives millions of miles from home: snatched up, packed into storage crates, chewed and spat out, like so
much gristle.’ The Doctor’s eyes were black, as black as endless night, and yet at the same time somehow blazing with fire. ‘Well, that’s not gonna happen. Not on my watch.’
He drew in a long breath, as though storing his rage deep inside. Turning to the Jal Karath, he said, ‘Why haven’t you traced the zytron leakage from Veec-9’s ship back to its source?’
The alien shivered in its web, perhaps in response to the Doctor’s cold fury, perhaps because it was merely receiving data through its interlinked systems. It said, ‘The glamour is concealing it. I can pick up hotspots of zytron energy, but not the ship itself.’
‘Hmm,’ said the Doctor. ‘And just as a matter of interest, was that your ship in the temple today?’
The Jal Karath blinked its many eyes. ‘No, Doctor. The craft must have belonged to Veec-9. I have remained in this location since I made landfall.’
‘I see. And where are we, exactly?’
‘I don’t know. Somewhere beneath the ground.
Somewhere safe.’
‘But if Veec-9 is wandering around disguised as a human and you’re skulking down here, how are you gonna find him?’
‘My reprogrammed warriors are primed, Doctor. I have initiated a technology scan. When Veec-9 reveals his position, my warriors will be ready.’
‘But what if he doesn’t reveal his position?’ the Doctor said. ‘What if he keeps all his technology tucked away behind that glamour of his – which you can’t penetrate?’
‘Then the chase will go on, Doctor. Into the stars.’
The Doctor rubbed his chin absently. ‘Yeah, you see, that’s all very well, Darac-7, but, according to you, Veec-9
won’t head off into the wild blue yonder until he’s got fifty thousand humans tucked safely under his belt. And personally I’m not prepared to wait that long. So why don’t you leave this one up to me, eh? I’ll sort it.’
‘What will you do, Doctor?’ the alien asked warily.
‘Well, I don’t wanna boast, but my scanners are a lot bigger than your scanners. And now that I’ve got my sonic back, I can pinpoint the source of the zytron leakage by inputting the readings from my ship.’
Again the Jal Karath was silent, as though considering the Doctor’s proposal.
Finally it said, ‘Veec-9 is a dangerous adversary, Doctor. If he finds out you are helping me, he will try to kill you.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m used to that,’ said the Doctor airily.
‘People try to kill me all the time.’
Back at the Campbells’ house, the Doctor’s disappearance had created uproar. Mary Campbell had fainted, or at least swooned, and had had to be carried indoors by Becharji and several servants; Gopal, clearly uncomfortable and out of place, had made his excuses and left at the earliest opportunity, taking Ranjit with him; Cameron had been sent indoors ‘for his own safety’, even though there was no evidence that indoors was any safer than outdoors; and now only Donna and Adelaide were left in the garden, Donna clinging to the hope that the Doctor would reappear in the same place he had vanished, and Adelaide – despite all the excitement – snoozing in her chair in the sun, having finally succumbed to fatigue after working a full overnight shift at the camp.
Donna didn’t really know what to do. She felt a bit of a
spare part just sitting and waiting, and was all too aware that she couldn’t mooch around here for ever. She was annoyed with the Doctor for going off without her yet again. Even if he was in danger, she would rather be with him than hanging about not knowing what was going on.
Several times since she’d started travelling with the Doctor, it had occurred to her to wonder what she’d do if anything happened to him. She would just have to get on with things, she supposed. But it frightened her that she had no identity in this period – no family, no friends, no roots. Most of the time, life with the Doctor was a rollercoaster ride, but occasionally it struck her how lost and alone she would be without hi
m. He was her ticket home – her only ticket home. And, however fantastic it was to roam time and space in his company, she still needed the reassurance that home would be there waiting for her whenever she decided she wanted to pop back for a visit.
Her reverie was interrupted by movement in her peripheral vision. She turned to see Gandhi approaching from the direction of the house, walking across the grass towards her.
She smiled. His was a serene presence, which immediately made her feel better.
‘Hiya,’ she said when he was close enough.
He smiled and pressed his palms together. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’
‘I’d love you to. Pull up a pew.’
He did so, sitting down with a creak of wicker.
‘Lemonade?’ Donna asked.
‘Thank you, no.’
She nodded vaguely towards the middle of the lawn.
‘Did you see what happened?’
‘I only heard about it. Everyone is very excitable. It sounds as though it was a most extraordinary occurrence.’
Donna shrugged. ‘I s’pose so. Stuff like that happens to the Doctor all the time. It just gets annoying after a while.’
There was a moment of silence, then Gandhi said, ‘You are worried about him.’ It was a statement rather than a question.
Donna shrugged. ‘I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s been in a lot worse scrapes than this. But… yeah. Yeah I am.’
‘The Doctor is a seeker of truth,’ said Gandhi. ‘And God is truth. Therefore he is in good company.’
Donna looked at his gentle face, his eyes big, almost childlike, behind his spectacles, and she broke into a smile. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about half the time,’
she said, ‘but the way you say things, it just makes me feel better. You and the Doctor, you’re alike in a lot of ways.’
Gandhi chuckled. ‘I will take that as the greatest of compliments.’
Suddenly the large white house at the edge of the lawn seemed to blur, as though in a heat haze. Donna turned her head, and saw a silvery shimmer in the centre of the lawn, like a scene viewed through a smeared window. She rose from her seat as the Doctor reappeared, accompanied by two of the chalk-white figures.
‘Cheers, fellers,’ he said distractedly, and then he began striding across the lawn towards the house, his face grim.
‘Oi, hang on!’ Donna shouted, running after him. She
half-turned to Gandhi. ‘Sorry about this, Mohandas.’
He raised a hand, indicating that she had no need to apologise, and that she should go after the Doctor. She turned again just in time to see the chalk-men shimmer and disappear. ‘Wait up, you!’ she yelled. ‘Don’t you dare leave me behind again.’
He stopped abruptly, allowing her to catch up. He glanced at her, frowning.
‘You’ve got that face on,’ she said.
‘What face?’
‘Like you’re gonna slap someone.’
He was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘Yeah, well, maybe I am.’ He began walking again.
‘I’ve been worried sick about you. At least tell me where you’ve been?’
He scowled at her, and then he sighed, his expression softening. ‘ How worried were you? On a scale of one to ten? One being couldn’t care less, and ten being completely inconsolable?’
She shrugged. ‘Dunno. Four maybe.’
‘ Four!’ he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched with indignation. ‘That’s charming, that is. You do your best to save someone’s planet and they’re not even bothered.’
She slapped his arm. ‘Oh, all right. Five then.’ Abruptly she gave him a fierce hug. ‘You do my head in, you do.’
He hugged her back, then extracted himself with a grin.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s walk. I’ll tell you about it as we go.’
‘Where we going?’ she asked.
‘TARDIS,’ he replied.
‘Oh. We off then?’
‘You might be,’ he replied cheekily, ‘but I’m as fresh as a daisy.’
Adelaide decided that she would just have to lump it.
Best-laid plans, and all that. When she had arrived home that morning she had wanted nothing more than a quick bite to eat and a nice long nap, but the day had not worked out quite as she had envisaged.
In the end she had managed to grab no more than a snooze in a garden chair, and even then she had no idea how she had managed to nod off, what with the drama of the Doctor turning up and then being whisked away by those ghastly creatures. Some time later she had woken with a start, stiff-necked and achy-backed, to find that her previous companion, Donna, had now been replaced by Mr Gandhi, who had been sitting crosslegged on the ground in a state of apparent meditation.
As soon as she had jerked awake he had opened one eye, smiled and said hello. It turned out his meeting with her father was over, and he had been waiting patiently for her to wake up in order to invite her to share a tonga with him back to the camp. Adelaide had hurriedly washed and changed, and twenty minutes later the two of them were sitting side by side, she feeling a little woozy and wondering how she was going to get through another gruelling night shift.
By the time they arrived back, Mr Gandhi had filled her in on what she had missed during her doze. He told her about the Doctor’s reappearance and about his and
Donna’s abrupt departure.
Now Adelaide was back at work, tending to the sick and wounded and trying not to think about how tired she was. She was in one of the medical tents, helping Edward dress a particularly nasty head wound, when they heard shouts and screams from outside.
They looked at each other in alarm.
‘What on Earth…?’ Edward said.
The camp had been established as a sanctuary, a place which catered for all religions and castes, but Edward and Adelaide were not naive enough to think that this meant they were exempt from attack. They knew there were still plenty of fanatics who believed that each strata of Indian society should remain within its own separate enclave, and who were prepared to go to extreme lengths to make their point. Even Gandhi had come in for criticism by those of his own people who were appalled not only by the fact that he mixed with ‘untouchables’, but that he had even described them as Harijans – Children of God.
‘You stay here, my dear,’ Edward said, and hurried to the tent entrance.
‘My eye,’ Adelaide muttered, though she left it a few seconds before going after him.
It was early evening, but not yet dark, or anywhere near. As Adelaide stepped outside, a harsh white disc of sun still shone down from a cloudless sky, illuminating the terrible scene before her.
Like blemishes on her vision, the air was full of silvery shimmers, and chalk-white men, identical to the ones which had materialised on her lawn that afternoon, were
appearing all over the camp. Naturally, their presence was causing widespread panic. People were shouting and screaming, fleeing in all directions, trampling over one another’s shelters and even each other to get away.
It was immediately evident why the hideous figures were there. Adelaide saw them grabbing people at random – men, women and children – and simply vanishing with them, just as they had with the Doctor. They seemed to hunt in pairs, and their numbers remained constant; as one pair disappeared with a victim, or sometimes two victims, another pair would shimmer into existence. Although people were running hither and thither, for the chalk-men the operation was clearly akin to shooting fish in a barrel.
Sometimes the air would shimmer and they would appear directly in the path of someone who would then be unable to prevent him-or herself running straight into their clutches. To Adelaide it looked like a battlefield, albeit a bloodless one, or one of those dreadful depictions of Hell by the artist Hieronymus Bosch.
She saw Edward in the crowd, running towards a pair of chalk-men who were bearing down on a small girl of around six years old. The girl was standing transfixed, like a bird mesmerised by a snake. Edwa
rd was clutching his old service revolver, its muzzle pointing at the sky.
He shouted something, but in the general cacophony of panic-stricken voices Adelaide couldn’t make out his words. It was clearly a challenge, however, for a moment later he lowered his gun and fired at one of the chalk-men.
The shot made a loud crack in the early evening air. To her horror, Adelaide saw the chalk-man stagger as a black
bullet hole appeared on the left side of his chest, just beneath his collar bone. More horrifying still was the fact that the shot barely slowed the creature down. Almost immediately he straightened up and resumed his remorseless advance.
Edward loosed off another two shots, hitting the same man in the chest once again, and then his partner in the stomach. When this too had minimal effect, he raised his gun butt-first and ran at the men, as though fully intending to club them unconscious with it.
He was too late to save the girl. Even as he ran forward, one of the chalk-men reached out and grabbed her arm. An instant later the chalk-man and the girl shimmered and vanished.
‘You filthy…’ Edward yelled, his voice carrying above the screams and shouts of the crowd. He reached the second chalk-man and brought his revolver down in a savage arc towards the creature’s hairless skull.
Adelaide winced, anticipating the impact, but with blinding speed the chalk-man’s hand shot up and grabbed Edward’s arm before the gun could connect. A look of horror, rage and disbelief appeared on Edward’s face –and then he and the chalk-man also vanished.
Adelaide’s hand flew to her mouth. Desperately she wondered what to do. It was pointless trying to flee through the camp, just as it was pointless joining the mêlée with the intention of giving aid. In the end she decided to go back into the tent and take shelter. Once the mayhem was over, she would seek out the Doctor and Donna and tell them what had happened.
There was something about the Doctor. Something authoritative and reassuring. She felt instinctively that he would know what to do. Turning, she lifted aside the flap of canvas and re-entered the tent.
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