Doctor Who: Plague of the Cybermen

by Justin Richards

  ‘But – what is it?’ Lady Ernhardt gasped.

  ‘A relic. I call it the Oracle. And yes, the Doctor is right, it has helped guide my work. It has helped me in my efforts to save your son.’

  ‘It’s a Plague Warrior – a Cyberman,’ Olga said.

  ‘Or what’s left of one,’ the Doctor added. ‘Guiding you, yes, but to its own ends.’

  ‘I think perhaps you should explain yourself, Doctor,’ Lord Ernhardt said.

  The Watchman opened his mouth to object, but Lord Ernhardt silenced him with a look. ‘I think we’d all like to hear what the Doctor has to tell us.’

  With help from Olga, the Doctor gave a quick explanation of the plague and of the Cybermen and their crashed ship. Lord and Lady Ernhardt listened in near silence, and the Watchman too seemed genuinely interested to learn more about the strange components and mechanisms he had discovered.

  Finally the Doctor came to the end of his story. ‘We should be able to seal them down there. We can cave in the tunnels, disconnect their equipment in the church tower, and just let them power down.’

  ‘Like going to sleep?’ Lady Ernhardt asked.

  ‘I suppose,’ the Doctor agreed. He walked slowly round the Watchman’s table. ‘I imagine the “Oracle” here has been slowly gathering the components it needs to get the Watchman to build a functioning power converter. Luckily, all the necessary components are right here on this …’ He stopped.

  ‘What is it, Doctor?’ Olga asked.

  ‘What have you done with the main power converter assembly?’ the Doctor demanded. He stared across at the Watchman. ‘Yes, I’m talking to you.’

  ‘I’ve done nothing with anything,’ the little man protested. ‘I told you – when you barged in here just now, I told you.’ He turned to Olga. ‘Didn’t I tell him?’

  ‘He did tell you,’ she agreed.

  ‘Tell me what?’

  ‘That someone has removed some of my equipment, my mechanisms.’

  ‘He thought you had taken it,’ Olga reminded him.

  ‘Why would I want it?’

  ‘Why would anyone?’ Lord Ernhardt asked.

  ‘Well, obviously because it can convert the lightning from the storms and provide the Cybermen with the power they need to …’ The Doctor took a deep breath and turned round on the spot. ‘Oh no.’

  ‘But there are no Cybermen up here,’ Olga pointed out. Even as she said it, she felt a sudden chill of fear. ‘Are there?’

  As if in answer, there was a crash of metal from the far side of the room. Components and debris were piled up in one of the alcoves. There was no curtain, just a heap of metal and plastic. Olga watched in horror as the whole pile shifted. Nuts and bolts, rods and cables rolled down and across the floor as something forced its way out of the centre of the heap.

  The unmistakable head of a Cyberman – undamaged and intact – thrust up through the sea of mechanisms as the creature pushed itself upright. As it stood, Olga saw with horror that one of its legs was human. The tattered remains of Stefan the gravedigger’s trousers clung to the thigh.

  In its hand, the Cyberman clutched an oblong metal box which Olga was sure must be the vital equipment the Doctor had described. It held it aloft like a trophy.

  ‘We will revive,’ the Cyberman grated.

  Chapter 10

  The Watchman stepped forward, fascinated. ‘A complete automaton! Up until now I have only seen the components, the pieces.’

  He turned to the Doctor.

  ‘How does it work?’

  ‘Never mind how it works!’ The Doctor grabbed the man and pulled him back, away from the Cyberman.

  ‘What is it?’ Lord Ernhardt demanded. He put his arm protectively round his wife. ‘What have you brought here, Watchman?’

  The Watchman shook his head nervously. ‘Not me.’

  ‘It’s a Cyberman,’ the Doctor told them. ‘And we need to keep well clear of it.’

  The Cyberman watched, unmoving and impassive. Like a statue.

  ‘Is that the power converter you spoke of?’ Lady Ernhardt asked, pointing to the device the Cyberman held.

  The Doctor nodded. ‘We have to dismantle it. It works by induction, so it doesn’t need a direct connection. It’ll be gathering and converting power already, probably storing it up in its internal batteries ready to be plugged into the Cyber systems. And if that happens …’ He left the thought unfinished.

  ‘We will revive,’ the Cyberman said again – as if it was a challenge. It took a step forward, and the Doctor pulled the Watchman back another pace.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand any of this,’ Lord Ernhardt said. ‘Except that this … creature is somehow a threat to us?’

  ‘And then some,’ the Doctor agreed.

  ‘This one and others,’ Olga added.

  ‘And if we don’t get that power converter off him this place will be overrun with Cyber-Plague Warriors before you can sneeze,’ the Doctor said.

  Lord Ernhardt stepped towards the Cyberman. Lady Ernhardt put her hand on his arm, but he carefully removed it, patted her shoulder and smiled reassuringly, before taking another step forward.

  ‘Then you had better put that device down, hadn’t you,’ he said to the Cyberman.

  The Cyberman turned its head slightly, angling it to look down at the man. It did not reply.

  ‘Put it down, sir!’ Ernhardt’s voice was loud but calm and full of authority.

  ‘Um,’ the Doctor said. ‘I really don’t think …’

  But Ernhardt was striding across the room, eyes fixed on the Cyberman. ‘I am the authority in this area, I’ll have you know. I am the law. And I order you to lay down that device or suffer the consequences.’

  ‘Shall I fetch the guards?’ the Watchman asked. His voice was strung out and taut with fear.

  ‘No time,’ Lord Ernhardt said, without turning from the Cyberman. ‘And no need.’

  ‘Alexander,’ his wife said quietly. ‘Let me …’

  ‘I can handle this, my dear.’

  ‘Doctor!’ Olga hissed. ‘You have to stop this. It will kill him.’

  ‘You think you are invincible,’ Lord Ernhardt was saying, ‘because you wear armour. But I tell you, my friend, things are not always what they seem.’

  ‘Friend?’ the Cyberman countered.

  ‘If you put that device down and discuss terms, then yes – potentially, friend.’

  ‘Ernhardt!’ the Doctor warned.

  ‘Cybermen do not discuss terms. Cybermen are not friends.’

  ‘Enemy, then,’ Ernhardt said simply. And launched himself at the Cyberman.

  Olga screamed. Lady Ernhardt’s hands were over her mouth. The Doctor gave a cry of warning and the Watchman whimpered.

  The Cyberman raised its arm – the same almost casual gesture that Olga had seen kill Drettle. This time, however, the effect was different. The Cyberman’s blow connected with Lord Ernhardt’s gloved hand. Metal clanged on metal as the blow was parried.

  But the force of it still sent Lord Ernhardt stumbling backwards. He sprawled across the table, knocking equipment and components flying. As he straightened up, he pulled a long metal bar from amongst the detritus. It rang against the wooden table like a sword being drawn from its scabbard as Lord Ernhardt turned to face the Cyberman again.

  The metal figure stepped forward. The power converter hung from one hand. The other was raised to deliver another blow. But before it could strike, Ernhardt slammed the long metal bar into the side of the Cyberman’s head. The room echoed with the sound of the blow. Sparks spat from the point of impact. The Cyberman reeled away.

  Quick as lightning, the Doctor dashed forward and grabbed the power converter, ripping it from the Cyberman’s grasp. The creature turned towards him – and the metal bar crashed into its back, knocking it forwards. The Cyberman collapsed to its knees. It amazed Olga that Lord Ernhardt could deliver his blows with such force – he was a slight man, and didn’t look that strong. Then she
remembered how the stone wall had shattered under the blow from his metal hand. Perhaps the Cyberman had indeed met its match.

  Ernhardt stepped towards his opponent, the bar raised above his head. The Cyberman was faster than it looked, lashing out in a sweeping arc with one arm. It knocked Ernhardt sideways and he collapsed with a groan, the air forced from his lungs.

  His wife made to go and help, but the Doctor put his arm out to stop her.

  ‘His leg!’ Olga shouted. She remembered the way the Doctor had stopped the Cyberman that had grabbed her. ‘He has a real leg, not metal.’

  Ernhardt nodded his thanks as he staggered back to his feet. The Cyberman was almost on him. From the ground, Ernhardt jabbed with the bar. He stabbed, as if it was a sword, right into the Cyberman’s human leg. There was a loud crack as the metal connected with bone. The knee gave way beneath the creature’s weight and it sank down on one side before falling headlong.

  ‘Sorry, Stefan,’ Olga gasped. Immediately she wondered why she was so upset – it wasn’t as if the leg had anything to do with Stefan any more.

  Getting back to his feet, Ernhardt stepped up to where the Cyberman was struggling to stand. The human leg gave way again. The metal creature looked up at Ernhardt standing over it, bar raised like an executioner axe, gripped tight in the man’s gloved hand.

  Olga watched in horrified fascination as the bar swept down. It hammered into the Cyberman’s head at the point where the neck connected. The head was knocked sideways in a shower of sparks. Wires and tubes spilled out from its broken neck, the head still attached but leaning drunkenly to the side.

  A second, harder blow sent the head flying across the room. It smashed into the wall and fell battered, dented and inert to the floor. The Cyberman’s kneeling body continued to sway, arms moving spasmodically, flames licking up from the hole in its shattered neck.

  The Doctor pulled Ernhardt away. ‘Down – everyone get down!’ he shouted.

  They ducked down behind the table, just as the remains of the Cyberman exploded. Olga shrieked as something hot caught in her hair. The Doctor leaned across and brushed it aside. Burning metal fragments were raining down on them.

  Then, abruptly, everything was quiet and still.

  ‘Is it over?’ the Watchman asked, his voice trembling.

  ‘Over?’ the Doctor stared at him. ‘It’s barely begun.’ He thrust the power converter towards the man. ‘Here, give me a hand dismantling this. Shouldn’t be beyond your capabilities.’

  The Watchman bristled, about to protest.

  ‘Just do it,’ Lady Ernhardt snapped.

  ‘Can’t you simply smash it to pieces?’ Lord Ernhardt asked. He was sweating and breathless from the fight. Blood ran in a thin trickle from a cut just under his eye.

  ‘Dangerous,’ the Doctor told him. ‘If this thing’s stored up power from the storms, then we could release that in one big eurgh of lightning right here in this room. In which case – pow! “Eurgh” and “pow” are technical terms,’ he added. ‘No, got to dismantle it very carefully.’

  As he spoke he handed one end of the converter to the Watchman. ‘Here, hold this tight.’

  The Doctor then twisted his end of the converter. The casing broke away to reveal a mass of dials and gauges and wires and tubes packed inside.

  ‘Now what?’ the Watchman asked.

  The Doctor was staring at the dials. ‘Now we have good news and bad news.’

  But before the Doctor could elaborate, Lord Ernhardt let out a cry. It was a mixture of surprise, pain, and fear. His gloved hand was raised, fingers clenching in the air.

  ‘What is it?’ his wife immediately asked, concerned. ‘My love – what’s wrong?’

  ‘My hand,’ he gasped. ‘I can’t – it’s … Help me!’

  His whole hand was shaking. With his other hand he grasped his own wrist.

  ‘Cybernetic hand,’ the Doctor realised. ‘Even with the innards replaced they can still control it.’

  As he spoke, the hand broke free of Ernhardt’s grip, lashing out at the power converter the Doctor held. Ernhardt was pulled after it, his face a mask of pain and anger.

  The Doctor ducked out of the way, and the gloved fingers closed on empty air. He gave the power converter to the Watchman and grabbed Ernhardt’s gloved hand with both his, holding it tight.

  ‘What is it doing?’ Olga gasped.

  ‘Trying to get the power converter. It’ll turn it back on.’

  Ernhardt was on his feet, pulled towards the Watchman by his clenching hand. He and the Doctor seemed joined in a strange wrestling match as they tried to pull his hand back.

  ‘But how does it know?’ the Watchman said. ‘Hands can’t see!’

  ‘Who cares?’ the Doctor said. ‘Maybe it’s making use of the host’s nervous system and sensory capacity, I don’t know. Just give us a …’ His voiced tailed off as he realised what he was about to say. ‘… A hand.’

  But the word was almost lost as Lord Ernhardt seemed to throw the Doctor off him – sending his gangly figure cartwheeling away across the room.

  Ernhardt gave a cry of pain and fear as he lunged at the Watchman. The little man could do nothing as the gloved hand closed on his throat.

  Olga ran to help, clawing at the glove with her own hands, trying to dig her nails into the unyielding metal beneath the glove. But with no effect.

  The Watchman’s spectacles slipped from his face and fell to the floor. A moment later, his body was hurtling through the air after the Doctor. But whereas the Doctor had slumped groggily to the floor, the Watchman hit the wall head first. There was a crunch of breaking bone, and he sagged to the ground, his head lolling at an awkward angle, his eyes glazed and unseeing.

  A gloved hand reached down towards the fallen power converter. Shrugged off, Olga fell to the floor beside the vital piece of equipment. She grabbed for it, but too late. Despite his efforts, Lord Ernhardt’s hand snatched it up.

  The Doctor had recovered and hurried to the Watchman. But it was obvious the poor man was dead. Sadly, the Doctor closed the man’s eyes before turning to face Ernhardt, his own eyes burning with anger.

  ‘I should have listened to him,’ the Doctor said. ‘How can it see – what a good question.’

  ‘Doctor …’ Ernhardt spluttered. ‘Doctor – I can’t …’

  ‘You have to fight it!’

  The Doctor rushed back across the room. Olga was dragging herself back to her feet. But what could she do?

  ‘The head – the Cyberman’s head,’ the Doctor told her. ‘It must be directing the hand’s movements. That’s how it can see. They’re linked, both part of the Cyber network.’

  Olga sort of understood. There was a connection between the hand and the head that had come off the Cyberman before it exploded. The metal head looked cold and inert, staring like a skull in the catacombs across the room through dark, blank eyes.

  She glanced at the discarded metal rod Lord Ernhardt had used to attack the Cyberman. But she knew she couldn’t destroy the head, so she didn’t try. Olga pulled an oily cloth from under a pile of wires and metal fragments on the table and threw it over the severed head.

  At once, Lord Ernhardt’s hand stopped fighting against him. He breathed a sigh of relief, and pulled the power converter from its grasp with his other hand. But the respite was brief. At once, the hand was alive again, snatching blindly for the power converter. Failing to find it, the hand aimed instead for Lord Ernhardt’s throat. He gave a startled cry of panic and fear as the hand came at him.

  Then another hand grabbed the gloved fist, holding it tight and dragging it away. A second hand closed round them both. Lady Ernhardt’s face was an expressionless mask as she pulled her husband’s possessed hand away from his throat.

  The Doctor reached across to help. But he didn’t need to. Already Lady Ernhardt had the gloved hand under control, holding it fast. Then with a sudden, violent movement, she wrenched the hand backwards. It disconnected from Lord Ernhardt’
s wrist. He fell away as a shower of sparks exploded from the end of the gloved hand. Lady Ernhardt held the hand for a moment, then hurled it to the floor.

  The hand scrabbled on the stone slabs, crawling hesitantly forwards. Olga snatched up the metal rod. It was heavy, but with a strength enhanced by fear and adrenalin she raised it above her head before smashing it down on the hand writhing on the floor. Again and again she hammered at it, until the thing lay broken, smoking, and still.

  She dropped the rod and it clattered to the floor beside the hand.

  The four of them stood breathless from the exertion.

  ‘How did you do that?’ the Doctor asked at last. He was talking to Lady Ernhardt.

  She met his gaze. ‘It was attacking my husband.’

  ‘No, I meant …’ The Doctor sighed. ‘Never mind.’ He returned his attention to the power converter.

  ‘You said …’ Lord Ernhardt hesitated as he caught his breath. ‘You said that there was a problem?’

  ‘Before I was so rudely interrupted,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘Good news and bad news.’

  ‘And what is this news?’ Olga asked.

  ‘Well, the good news is that we can just destroy this power converter and make sure that the Cybermen don’t get any more energy from it.’

  ‘Any more?’ Olga said.

  ‘Yes, well that’s the bad news. I thought it was a battery that stored the power up until it was wired in to where it’s needed.’

  ‘And it isn’t?’ She didn’t understand what he was saying, but the Doctor’s expression was grave.

  ‘Sadly not. It passes the power straight on – through induction, same way as it gathers the power in the first place. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been working, how much power it processed, or where it sent it.’

  He bent down to place the power converter carefully on the floor. Inspecting his work, he then moved it slightly so it aligned neatly with the edges of the nearest flagstones. He reached out and picked up the metal rod that Olga had dropped.

  Then the Doctor straightened up, raised the rod, and smashed it down hard on the power converter. The metal component exploded, making Olga jump back in surprise. The Doctor didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he hit it again.