Doctor Who: Plague of the Cybermen

by Justin Richards

  ‘You might destroy a few,’ he whispered as the Cybermen led the two of them back down the tower stairway, ‘but we need to get them all.’

  ‘Your plan did not work.’ Victor’s voice was flat – almost as emotionless as a Cyberman. ‘My mother is dead.’

  ‘She wasn’t—’ The Doctor broke off. Probably not the best time to tell a half-cybernised young man that his mother was a robot. ‘I know,’ he said instead. ‘I’m sorry, but we have to be patient. Wait for our moment.’

  ‘To do what? You said the power would flow back into their systems and overload them.’

  ‘You seem to have picked up some of the Cybermen’s technical understanding, from being connected to their network. But I had to disconnect you to keep you human. I thought I’d reconnected you just to the energy pathways, but obviously it didn’t work.’

  ‘So the power can’t get through.’

  ‘Not unless we plug you into their systems some other way. Find a route that’s unprotected. These Cybermen will have safety cut-outs, firewalls, the lot.’

  At the base of the tower, Marie Ernhardt lay sprawled across the stone-flagged courtyard. Her body was crumpled, one side of her head smashed in. Her long fair hair spread out round her head, framing the shattered remains of her pale, delicate features. Cogs and gears lay strewn where they had fallen. Oil was leaking from her eyes, like dark tears.

  The Doctor and Victor stopped to look down at her, to spare her a few moments’ thought. If Victor was surprised at what he saw, he did not show it. But the Cybermen herded them on again, towards a door into the main castle.

  ‘Where are you taking us?’ Victor asked. But he got no reply.

  A trickle of dust fell from the tunnel roof. The door shook. It was braced with metal, but the main construction was wood, and that was splintering under repeated blows from the other side.

  Jedka sat huddled and trembling between her mother and Olga. Other children and their parents lined the tunnel. Ahead of them, the way was blocked. Behind, the door shook and splintered. No one spoke. No one pretended that everything would be all right.

  At the far end of the tunnel, Nicolai and Klaus were talking in low voices with Lord Ernhardt as they examined the bricked-up end wall that prevented them getting any further. But it was obvious to everyone that the Plague Warriors would be in long before the wall could be dismantled.

  ‘My daddy will save us,’ Jedka said.

  A metal fist punched through the door.

  ‘Why have you brought us here?’ the Doctor asked, looking round the Watchman’s work room. ‘Not that I’m ungrateful,’ he added, giving Victor a meaningful look. ‘Lots of useful stuff in here. Ah!’ he realised. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘You will repair the power converter,’ one of the Cybermen intoned. ‘Or you will build a new one.’

  ‘Using equipment the Watchman salvaged.’

  The Doctor walked slowly round the Watchman’s workbench. He picked up a few components, then discarded them again. ‘Why me?’

  ‘You have superior intelligence to the other humans.’

  He didn’t deny it. ‘Why not do it yourselves? Is it because I understand the way the Watchman worked, and how he’s tried to adapt some of this stuff? Or maybe you just like getting others to do your work, is that it?’

  The Cybermen did not answer. The Doctor had made a complete tour of the table now, and was back with Victor. The Doctor hoped the Cybermen wouldn’t realise he was talking to him and not them.

  ‘All along you were giving the Watchman instructions, weren’t you? Relayed through what he thought was a miraculous Oracle that guided his work. But you were using him, getting him to develop and repair the components that you needed. Scavenging the parts to make a new power converter.’

  The Doctor was walking again as he spoke. Now he was close to the curtained alcove. He grabbed the curtain and pulled it back, revealing he plinth covered by a sheet.

  ‘What is it?’ Victor asked.

  ‘The Watchman’s Oracle. Damaged, but still connected into the Cyber networks, still part of your systems so that you could hear if not see what the Watchman was up to. So you could relay instructions. It might not have achieved much but, oh, you are a patient lot, aren’t you. Every little bit helps.’

  The nearest Cyberman took a step towards the Doctor. ‘You will build a power converter. We will re-energise. We will survive.’

  The Doctor shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so, thanks all the same.’

  The Cyberman took another step forwards. The Doctor took hold of the sheet and pulled it off the plinth – revealing the damaged Cyber-head beneath, with its empty eye sockets.

  At once, the head screamed – just as it had before. The Cyberman grabbed the Doctor, dragging him back. The other Cybermen crowded round him.

  ‘Victor!’ the Doctor yelled above the electronic howls of pain and anguish. ‘Victor – you know what to do. You can save them. You can save everyone. The link’s still open. The power will flow through you.’

  Two of the Cybermen turned quickly towards Victor, perhaps realising the danger. But they were too late.

  Victor stepped forward, reached out, and grabbed the Cyber-head on the plinth between both his metal hands.

  Its screaming reached an ear-shattering peak. The head exploded.

  Moments later, the same power that had overloaded the head flowed through into the main Cyber systems and on to each of the Cybermen.

  The Doctor threw himself to the floor as the Cybermen round him detonated. Metal and plastic blasted across the room. The Cybermen advancing on Victor also exploded. One toppled forwards, bursting into flames before it hit the ground.

  The first of the Plague Warriors forced its way through the shattered remains of the door and into the tunnel. The villagers backed away, as far down the passage as they could get. Olga felt Jedka clutch at her skirts. Somehow Klaus was beside her, his arm round her shoulders.

  ‘There are things I meant to tell you,’ he said quietly. ‘I guess it’s too late now. I’m sorry.’

  Despite everything, Olga smiled. ‘I’m sorry, too,’ she said.

  But her words were lost in the rumble of thunder from outside – a rolling wall of noise that grew closer and closer. Flames erupted through the doorway behind the Plague Warrior. A moment later, the metal creature itself was on fire, its arms lashing out, a harsh electronic screech echoing round the tunnel walls. It fell forwards into a pool of fire.

  The Doctor ran to Victor. The young man sank to his metal knees. His face was grey and drawn.

  ‘It’s drained the power from you,’ the Doctor said. He caught the man – barely more than a boy, as he fell sideways. Cradled him in his arms.

  ‘I have been wasting away all my life, Doctor.’ His voice was barely audible. ‘At least this way I helped. I did something.’

  The Doctor was still holding him minutes later when the door burst open. A hand reached under the Doctor’s, supporting Victor’s head. Lord Ernhardt took his place and held his dying son in his arms one last time.

  The villagers were gathered in the courtyard. A pall of smoke hung in the air high above, defying the rain that tried to wash it away.

  Olga and Klaus sat together by a wall, their arms round each other.

  A little way away, Nicolai was tending to Gustav the tavern keeper. His wounds were serious, but not fatal.

  All around lay the shattered, broken remains of the Plague Warriors – the Cybermen.

  A little girl stood beside one smoking metal body, staring out through the broken remains of the main gates. Her mother stood beside her as they both stared out across the valley.

  The Doctor walked through it all, head down, mentally counting the cost. He looked up only when Jedka called to him.

  ‘Are you her mother?’ he asked. ‘She’s a good girl. She’s been a terrific help. You should be proud of her.’

  ‘I am,’ the mother said, but her words were almost a sob.

  �
��When’s my daddy coming back?’ Jedka asked. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were brimming ready. ‘He looks after us. He keeps us safe.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ the Doctor said. He knelt down so he could talk to her eye to eye. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know who your daddy is, Jedka.’

  ‘He’s a guard. He works here at the castle. Why isn’t he here?’

  ‘A guard with a daughter he’d die for,’ the Doctor said quietly. ‘Your father was a very brave man. He fought hard so that someone else very brave, a young man called Victor, could save us all.’

  ‘Then where is he?’

  ‘Oh, Jedka,’ her mother said through her tears, and pulled her into a hug.

  ‘Will he be coming home soon?’ Jedka asked, but she was crying now too.

  The Doctor opened his mouth to say something, though he had no idea what.

  Then the answer came from behind him:

  ‘Of course I am. I’ll be home as soon as I’ve got this mess cleared up.’

  The Doctor spun round. Caplan was covered in grime and blood. There was a cut down one side of his face, and his left arm hung limply by his side. But he was smiling as his daughter ran to him. He hugged her with his good arm, nodded at the Doctor, then leaned forward to rest his head on his wife’s quaking shoulder.

  The Doctor watched them for a moment, their bodies trembling with emotion. Then he turned and walked away.

  The Doctor spent all day and all night in the Watchman’s lair. He emerged the next day, looking exhausted but smiling, to find Lord Ernhardt sitting by the fire, where they had first met.

  The room was a mess. The door was off its hinges, there were scorch marks on the floor and ceiling. The remains of broken chairs and a table were heaped in a corner.

  ‘You’ve finished?’ Lord Ernhardt asked. He got unsteadily to his feet. He seemed to have aged, and of course he was now missing one hand.

  ‘The Cybership powered down when the Cybermen exploded,’ the Doctor said. ‘It’ll rot down there, eventually. But seal up the tunnels and let no one near it. The radiation will fade in time, but it’ll take a while. And I’ve destroyed or made safe everything the Watchman had salvaged.’

  ‘Thank you, Doctor.’

  ‘No – thank you. You’ve given far more than I ever could. Paid a price that can never be repaid.’

  ‘Nevertheless, Doctor – thank you.’

  They shook hands.

  ‘You will be leaving now, I suppose. Going back to wherever you are from?’

  ‘I’m from everywhere and nowhere. But yes, I’m leaving.’ He hesitated in the doorway. ‘I can never give you back your son, but you will always have his memory.’

  ‘He would have died years ago if it weren’t for the Watchman, and for the Cybermen. They gave him life, albeit unwittingly and unwillingly. They gave me that memory. So it’s fitting that it was Victor who saved us from them.’

  The Doctor nodded. ‘Like I said, I can never return him to you. But the Watchman was a clever old thing. I wish I’d had time to get to know him better. He gave you far more than I ever could, though I have done what I can. He gave you hope for the future.’

  Lord Ernhardt forced a thin smile. ‘A lonely future now, I fear.’

  ‘Oh I wouldn’t say that. You should get involved in village life more,’ the Doctor said. ‘Both of you.’

  ‘Both?’

  But the Doctor was gone.

  Another figure stood in the doorway where he had just been. A young woman with long fair hair and pale, delicate features.

  Lord Ernhardt caught his breath, felt his heart leap in his chest. ‘Marie?’

  Olga and Klaus walked with him out of the village. The Doctor had joined them for a drink at the tavern with Old Nicolai and the others. Jedka ran out of her house to wave as the Doctor walked with Olga and Klaus along the dirt track past the church and the graveyard. For once, it wasn’t raining. Now the equipment in the church tower was gone, the Doctor had promised the weather in the valley would improve.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Olga asked.

  ‘Not far,’ the Doctor said. ‘Or there again, further than you can ever imagine.’

  As they climbed the winding, steep pathway, they paused to turn and look back across the valley at the castle.

  ‘I can’t help noticing,’ the Doctor said, ‘that you two are holding hands.’

  ‘We’ve often held hands,’ Klaus told him, slightly sheepish.

  ‘Though not since we were at school,’ Olga added. ‘And they say you’re only young once,’ she added with a smile.

  ‘Well, they’re wrong,’ the Doctor said. ‘I’ve been young lots of times. I can recommend it. Just wait here a minute, will you?’

  He didn’t give them time to answer, but hurried round a bend in the track and disappeared. Klaus and Olga looked at each other. They waited a moment, but the Doctor didn’t return.

  ‘You think he’s just leaving?’ Klaus asked.

  ‘Perhaps he doesn’t like saying goodbye,’ Olga said.

  Their conversation was interrupted by a strange scraping, grinding noise. They ran after the Doctor. But by the time they had turned the corner, the sound was gone. The path straightened out and from here they could see for miles. The path, the open, barren countryside … There was nowhere for anyone to hide, nothing to obscure the view.

  But of the Doctor there was no sign.

  ‘Well look at that,’ Olga said in astonishment as the empty landscape was bathed in a pale yellow glow. ‘The sun’s come out.’

  Hand in hand, Olga and Klaus walked slowly back to the village.

  Somewhere infinitely far away, but separated from them by only a few seconds, a lonely figure stood at the heart of his TARDIS. A slim mismatched jigsaw of a man, paintbrush hair atop a young face with ancient eyes, an enigma wrapped in a bow tie.

  ‘I’m getting far too young for this sort of thing,’ he said to himself. The TARDIS groaned, as if in reply. Lights blinked and needles wavered on dials. Gauges and read-outs told their stories and the glass column at the heart of the TARDIS console rose and fell and glowed and shone.

  And the Doctor stared off into space and time, wondering where his oldest and best friend would take him next.

  The Dalek Generation

  NICHOLAS BRIGGS

  ‘The Sunlight Worlds offer you a life of comfort and plenty. Apply for your brand new home now, by contacting us at the Dalek Foundation.’

  Sunlight 349 is one of countless Dalek Foundation worlds, planets created to house billions of humanoids suffering from economic hardship. The Doctor arrives at Sunlight 349, suspicious of any world where the Daleks are apparently a force for good – and determined to find out the truth.

  He soon finds himself in court, facing the ‘Dalek Litigator’. But do his arch enemies really have nothing more to threaten than legal action? The Doctor knows they have a far more sinister plan – but how can he convince those who have lived under the benevolence of the Daleks for a generation?

  Convince them he must, and soon. For on another Foundation planet, archaeologists have unearthed the most dangerous technology in the universe …

  A thrilling, all-new adventure featuring the Doctor as played by Matt Smith in the spectacular hit series from BBC Television.

  U.S. $9.99 (Canada: $11.99) ISBN: 978-0-385-34674-0

  Shroud of Sorrow

  TOMMY DONBAVAND

  23 November 1963

  It is the day after John F. Kennedy’s assassination – and the faces of the dead are everywhere. PC Reg Cranfield sees his recently deceased father in the mists along Totter’s Lane. Reporter Mae Callon sees her late grandmother in a coffee stain on her desk. FBI Special Agent Warren Skeet finds his long-dead partner staring back at him from raindrops on a window pane.

  Then the faces begin to talk, and scream … and push through into our world.

  As the alien Shroud begins to feast on the grief of a world in mourning, can the Doctor dig deep enough into his own
sorrow to save mankind?

  A thrilling, all-new adventure featuring the Doctor and Clara, as played by Matt Smith and Jenna-Louise Coleman in the spectacular hit series from BBC Television.

  U.S. $9.99 (Canada: $11.99) ISBN: 978-0-385-34678-8