Doctor Who: Plague of the Cybermen

by Justin Richards

  ‘And once for luck,’ he said, hitting it a third time. But the converter was obviously broken – pieces had bent or broken off and the inside was a charred mess.

  ‘This power the Cybermen somehow acquired?’ Lord Ernhardt asked, nursing the broken stump of his wrist.

  The Doctor turned to face him. ‘You want to know where the power went? What they used it for?’

  ‘I think we all do,’ Lady Ernhardt said. Olga nodded her agreement.

  ‘Absolutely,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘And you can just bet it’s nothing good.’

  Chapter 11

  The walk back to the village was every bit as wet and stormy as when they had walked up. It seemed so long ago – so much had happened. Olga struggled to keep up with the Doctor as he strode along the downward-sloping path from the castle. It was slippery and hazardous, the water from the constant rain running off and leaving it slick with mud.

  Caplan and three guards were with them. They seemed to have no trouble keeping up, and no interest in how Olga was faring. She was determined not to ask them to slow down, though she was sure the Doctor would as soon as he realised there was a problem.

  Lightning forked across the sky. Olga tried to imagine how much raw power was in each streak of fire, how much energy the Plague Warriors – the Cybermen – had somehow extracted from the sky. And what had they used it for? The Doctor offered no thoughts on the subject other than a sudden announcement that he was returning to the village.

  As the path evened out, Olga hurried to catch up with the Doctor.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ he said, without looking.

  ‘Here I am,’ she agreed. ‘But where are we going? I mean, I know we’re going to the village, but why do we need the guards? What are you intending?’

  ‘I’m intending to stop this,’ he said. ‘Too many people have died.’

  ‘You mean the plague – the poisoning?’

  ‘And Worm and Drettle and the Watchman. Stefan the gravedigger too – he didn’t die of radiation poisoning.’

  ‘And how will you stop it?’

  ‘With your help.’ He turned to look at her, grinning. But the amusement didn’t touch his eyes which remained grey and cold. ‘And Caplan and his colleagues here. That’s a point,’ he went on, raising his voice so the guard commander could hear him over the rain. ‘Why does Lord Ernhardt need guards at all? It’s not like you’ve been at war.’

  ‘From what you say, Doctor, we are at war now,’ Caplan growled back.

  ‘Fair point. And well made. But up until I arrived …’ He paused to mutter ‘Story of my life,’ so quietly only Olga heard him. ‘But up until now, you haven’t been at war, have you?’

  Caplan shrugged. ‘It’s a sign of status, having private guards. Most of us have other duties as well as guarding the castle gates. Kris here works in the kitchen.’

  One of the other guards nodded and smiled – showing off blackened and broken teeth.

  ‘Sounds healthy,’ the Doctor said.

  ‘And you never know when the marshals will call a muster,’ Caplan went on. ‘Each lord has a duty to provide troops in time of crisis.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be a war,’ Olga told the Doctor. ‘The last crisis was a landslide. The marshals called a muster to dig out survivors and rebuild the town.’

  The Doctor nodded. ‘Very altruistic. So we could ask these marshals to muster up some troops to help us if we need them?’

  ‘We’re a bit out of the way here,’ Caplan pointed out.

  ‘It would take two days to get a message to the nearest marshal in Malkeburg,’ Olga said.

  ‘Another two days to send out the muster,’ Caplan added. ‘Perhaps a week before help arrived. If we were lucky.’

  ‘You need email,’ the Doctor told them. ‘Or at least the telephone.’

  ‘Probably,’ Olga agreed, though she had no idea what he meant.

  ‘Who’d want to help us anyway?’ the guard with broken teeth asked sullenly.

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ the Doctor told him. ‘Now come on, no time to waste. Last one back to the tavern’s buying the crisps.’

  And to Olga’s horror, he broke into a run.

  By the time Olga got to the tavern, she was drenched. The Doctor was standing at the bar with the three guards talking to what seemed like most of the adult villagers.

  Klaus saw Olga arrive, and his stern expression faded into a smile. He pushed through the other villagers, and ushered Olga towards the fire so she could warm up and dry out.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked quietly, struggling to keep her teeth from chattering. ‘What’s he been saying?’

  ‘That he wants our help,’ Klaus whispered back. ‘He’s very persuasive.’

  ‘Yes,’ Olga agreed. That was certainly true. ‘What are you grinning at?’ she asked as Klaus continued to smile at her. It was becoming a little unsettling.

  ‘Nothing,’ he said.

  But he kept on smiling. Olga realised that she was smiling back.

  Their smiles faded though as the Doctor’s voice reached them: ‘… which is why my good friend Klaus over there will be showing you the way while Olga and I take the lead …’

  If Caplan was offended that the Doctor put Klaus in charge of organising the villagers, he didn’t show it. Klaus himself would far rather have had Caplan in charge – he probably knew what he was doing, for one thing. And for another, he wasn’t likely to be as scared as Klaus.

  The Doctor had drawn a quick and rough sketch of the catacomb tunnels on a flimsy piece of paper he unfolded from his pocket. He showed it to Caplan, Klaus, Olga and Old Nicolai.

  ‘Napkin from the Titanic,’ he told them. ‘Hopefully it’s dried out a bit by now.’ Then he produced a stub of pencil and explained what he expected Klaus and the others to do.

  ‘So we will be a diversionary attack,’ Caplan said.

  ‘Well, “attack” is a bit strong, and it won’t be much of a diversion, but yes – spot on. Exactly right.’

  ‘We keep the Plague Warriors occupied while you and Olga …’ Klaus hesitated. That was as much as he actually understood. ‘While you and Olga, er, do something else.’

  ‘Spot on again. Top of the class, Klaus. So – everyone clear on what we’re doing?’

  There was a general shaking of heads. Old Nicolai muttered that no it wasn’t at all clear.

  ‘Good,’ the Doctor announced. ‘Well, let’s be getting on with it, then.’

  This prompted more muttering and head-shaking until the Doctor seemed to get the message, sighed, and tried again.

  Ten minutes later, Klaus found himself addressing a group of the fittest and more able-bodied village men. The group included Old Nicolai, who insisted on joining them.

  ‘The Doctor and Olga are going to find the lair of the Plague Warriors and …’ Well Klaus wasn’t quite sure about that. ‘And sort them out once and for all,’ he decided.

  There was some cheering at this. But one voice called out: ‘Why them? A stranger and a schoolteacher.’

  ‘When we don’t even have a school,’ another of the villagers added.

  Klaus drew himself up to his full and not-inconsiderable height. ‘Can you think of anyone better?’ he demanded. ‘The Doctor’s the only one here who understands any of this. And a schoolteacher who can teach when there’s no school is someone to be proud of, not to jeer at, Henri.’

  ‘Sorry, Klaus,’ Henri conceded. ‘We all know that you and Olga …’ He shrugged.

  ‘Me and Olga what?’ Klaus was angry and confused now. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘No – I’d like to know.’

  ‘Klaus,’ Old Nicolai said gently, ‘if you don’t know already, then you never will.’

  Klaus frowned at the grizzled old man, but he refused to elaborate. Just grinned. In fact, now Klaus looked, everyone seemed to be grinning. Well, that was a good thing, he decided given what he had to ask them to
do.

  ‘Olga and the Doctor are going to the Plague Warriors’ lair,’ he repeated. ‘It’s up to us to keep the Plague Warriors – the ones who are awake – up to us to keep them busy while the Doctor does … whatever it is that the Doctor is going to do. Is that clear?’

  ‘As it’ll ever be,’ Old Nicolai said. ‘Let’s get on with it. We’ll need torches. Firebrands. And anything we can use as a weapon.’

  Klaus nodded. ‘Spades, axes, pitchforks, staves – anything. Collect what you can and we’ll meet as soon as we can be ready.’

  ‘Where do we meet?’ one of them asked.

  Klaus shivered as he said it: ‘The churchyard. Beside poor Liza’s empty grave.’

  In the event, it was the Doctor and Olga who descended into the dark maw of the grave. The Doctor sent Klaus, Caplan, Old Nicolai and the others to get into the catacombs from the crypt under the church.

  ‘And check the tower first, just in case there’s one of them hiding up there. Make a lot of noise as you go into the catacombs – with a bit of luck, that should draw the Cybermen towards you to see what’s going on and counter any threat.’

  ‘The threat being us, I take it,’ Caplan said. He hefted his sword, testing its weight.

  ‘Absolutely. You need to make the Cybermen think you’re a major threat to their survival.’ The Doctor looked round at the group of villagers with their pitchforks, shovels, burning firebrands and – in one case – a broken sickle. ‘Work on that.’

  The Doctor jumped down into the grave, reached back up to help Olga as Klaus lowered her after him.

  ‘Oh,’ the Doctor added as he ducked his head down towards the broken floor of the grave. ‘And watch out for the wolves.’

  Klaus’s voice reached the Doctor and Olga as they lowered themselves into the tunnel below: ‘What? What wolves?’

  Once again, the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver lit their way. And once again, Olga did her best to avoid looking at the pale skeletal remains that littered the passageways or stared out from shelves. Just as before, she failed. But somehow it seemed less unsettling now. Perhaps she was getting used to it, but that in itself was worrying. She didn’t want ever to take death for granted – because that implied she was taking life for granted too.

  They made their way slowly, carefully, and quietly through the catacombs, listening for any hint of Cybermen or for the sounds that might suggest Klaus and the others had started their ‘distraction’. Olga was acutely aware that the distraction could – and probably would – result in more injury and even death. Something else not to think about. She couldn’t bear it if Klaus …

  ‘Why did you bring me?’ she whispered close behind the Doctor’s ear.

  He gave no indication that he had heard her, but she was sure he had.

  ‘What do you need me for?’ she hissed.

  ‘I like company,’ he whispered back. ‘Maybe it’s the intellectual conversation.’

  ‘You like being alone,’ she told him. ‘I can see it in your eyes, I can hear it in your voice as you try to be patient with us when we don’t immediately understand what you mean.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s good for me. Patience is a virtue.’

  So he wasn’t denying it, Olga realised. She bit her lip as she summoned the courage to ask him what she really wanted to know. ‘Have you brought me with you to be another distraction?’

  ‘A what?’ He stopped and turned, and looked her in the eye.

  ‘A distraction,’ she repeated. ‘Like Klaus and Caplan and the others. Someone for the Plague Warriors to kill while you do … whatever you have to do.’

  ‘Oh no.’ He seemed genuinely surprised. ‘No, no, no, not ever. Never. No. Did you think that?’

  ‘Then why?’

  ‘I told you – I enjoy your company.’

  ‘No one enjoys my company. I make the children learn when they want to go out and play, and I remind the adults of how little they know.’

  The Doctor sighed. ‘Tell me about it,’ he murmured. Then, louder: ‘You are not a distraction, and I think more people crave your company than you realise.’

  ‘And I am here because?’

  The Doctor brandished his sonic screwdriver, waving it in front of her eyes. ‘Because when I disconnect the power systems, I’ll need to concentrate. It’s a difficult and fiddly job which will take a bit of time. And I’ll need someone to hold the light, all right?’

  Which actually made sense. She was relieved, even if that was all he needed her for. ‘All right,’ she said.

  ‘Good. Er – I wasn’t too impatient and arrogant there, was I?’

  ‘No Doctor.’

  His face crinkled into a huge grin as he turned away. ‘Liar.’

  The crypt was lit only by the smoky, guttering light from the firebrands held by some of the villagers. Klaus led the way, grateful for Caplan beside him.

  ‘How do you get through something like this?’ Klaus asked quietly.

  ‘Lord knows,’ Caplan told him. ‘I think of my wife and my daughter, I suppose. Promise myself that I’ll see them again.’

  Klaus nodded. He didn’t have a family, so instead he thought of Olga, and found that helped dispel the fear for his own safety. But now he was worrying about her.

  They made their way through the crypt and into the catacombs. Klaus had never been down here before – had never even known it existed. From the reactions of the others, neither had anyone else. Only Old Nicolai nodded and smiled grimly as if this was exactly what he had expected.

  Klaus checked the map the Doctor had sketched, and led them along what he hoped was the right passageway. A rat appeared from beneath a shattered skeleton at the side of the tunnel and scampered on ahead of them, soon lost again in shadows.

  The passage led to a junction with several others. With Caplan’s help, Klaus worked out which path to take, and they continued on their way. Just as the Doctor had described, the tunnel led to a huge cavern with other tunnels leading off. As he’d told them, there was a metal wall on the far side of the cavern, with a large hole ripped in it. Debris was strewn across the ground, spilling out of the hole in the side of the strange ship the Plague Warriors had sailed here all those years ago.

  And sprawled across the debris was the shattered body of Drettle. Of Worm’s corpse there was no sign.

  ‘So what do we do now?’ Kris asked nervously.

  ‘We make a noise,’ Klaus told him. ‘Just like the Doctor said. Bring the Plague Warriors out of their strange ship to see what’s happening.’

  ‘And we should take Drettle’s body back,’ Old Nicolai said. ‘Bury him properly.’

  ‘Let’s hope he’s the only one,’ Caplan muttered.

  The simple process of moving Drettle’s body was noisy enough. He was a big man, and it took three of them to carry him down from where he had fallen. The heap of scrap and rubbish shifted noisily under their feet. Metal clanked on metal. They carried Drettle to the entrance of the passageway they had entered by and laid him respectfully on the ground.

  When Klaus turned from closing the dead man’s eyes, he saw the Plague Warriors. Two of them stood in the gaping hole in the metal wall. They stared back at him through blank, dead eyes across the cavern. Then, slowly but deliberately, with measured movements, they stepped out onto the pile of debris.

  One of the metal men had a human arm. The other was dented and scorched, but with what looked like discoloured, rotting flesh grafted across its chest.

  ‘We’re a distraction,’ Caplan murmured so that only Klaus could hear. ‘We don’t have to fight them if we can avoid it. Just keep them here so the Doctor can do his work.’

  Klaus nodded, picking up the shovel he’d put down so he could help carry Drettle. ‘We came to recover our friend’s body,’ he announced. He could hear as well as feel the tremor in his own voice.

  The Plague Warriors continued their slow advance. Klaus gripped the handle of his shovel tighter.

  One of the Plague Warriors raised its hu
man arm, pointing across at Klaus and the others. Its voice was a metallic rasp, like a rusty bolt being drawn back.

  ‘You belong to us. You shall be like us.’

  The Doctor led the way to the same tunnel as before. Again, Olga followed him through the hole in the metal skin of the ship and into the blood-red interior.

  Finger to his lips, the Doctor beckoned for Olga to follow. Their progress was quicker this time as they knew the way.

  At first they proceeded cautiously. But soon after they were inside, they heard shouts echoing along the metal corridors. The clash of metal on metal. A sound like sudden thunder which made the Doctor frown.

  ‘Energy discharge. Hope they’re all right.’

  Olga hoped so too, but she didn’t trust herself to speak. She just followed the Doctor deeper and deeper into the ship, hoping against hope that Klaus – and the others of course, but mainly Klaus – would be all right.

  Finally, they reached the gantries, and navigated their way round the area where the floor had dropped away. There was a pale glow from the vast chamber where they had found the sleeping Cybermen. Mist hung low over the floor like it did in the graveyard on an autumn morning.

  ‘Now comes the tricky bit,’ the Doctor said quietly. He brandished his sonic screwdriver. ‘Don’t want to turn the lights on – that didn’t go so well last time. So this is your big moment.’

  Olga was looking round. Her eyes had adjusted to the misty gloom, but even so … ‘I don’t think you’ll need the light, Doctor.’

  ‘How do you mean? Oh.’ His expression froze. It should have been comical, but instead Olga found it worrying.

  The light around them was definitely increasing. The mist was more visible now, cascading off the wall like a waterfall. There was a low hum, building in volume. Then the impossible pitter-patter of rain.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Olga asked. She could see her breath as she spoke, but even so, she realised: ‘It’s getting warmer.’

  ‘They’re channelling the power into the hibernation cells.’