The Dalek Factor

by Simon Clark

  Captain Vay locks eyes with him. 'Earlier, you told me some words that rhyme with rhyme. The one that you omitted to mention was "time." '

  Now the man twitches as if he's just put his finger on a live terminal. When he speaks, he sounds winded. 'Thank you for the solution to my conundrum, Captain. One less word to marry up.' He takes a deep breath. 'But no. Dalek means nothing to me. See that drawing of a beetle?' He indicates a sketch on the wall. 'I'm especially proud of that. And I can name its components. See the jaws? Those are the mandibles. The prothorax is linked to the abdomen by the meothorax, where you will find its rear legs and the scutellum. I don't know why, but I have a precise knowledge of insect life. For some reason, the life cycle of the butterfly and moth I find especially fascinating. First there is the egg, followed by the larvae, then the hard, stone-like pupae before the final stage of the metamorphosis - the imago - the adult butterfly.' He drops his gaze sadly. 'Of course, all the butterflies here are venomous. Still, creatures of great beauty though. But then the beautiful and the deadly can often be found in the same skin, isn't that so, Captain Vay?'

  Instead of answering the man's question, he asks: 'Sir, how did you come to be in this place…?' Then the Captain grimaces and answers for him. 'You don't know?'

  'That's right. I don't.'

  'So… you can't tell us if there are any Daleks here?'

  'Not if I don't know what they are.'

  Captain Vay turns to address the platoon. 'Unlock your weapons. Activate ammunition charging procedure. We've a strong trace that indicates we might have viable Daleks close by.'

  We run through the charging procedure. My weapon begins to vibrate in my hands. After checking his side arm, the Captain replaces his helmet. The platoon is alert, slipping into a state of battle readiness. This is what all those months of training were for. We're listening, watching, even smelling the air for danger. Rain's tracker sensor had registered a big, fat pulse of energy consistent with a Dalek presence. It might just be an ancient Dalek scrap heap. Or it might be a Dalek sleeper pod. Or it might mean this whole complex is swarming with Daleks. Those thoughts are enough to send adrenaline shooting through my veins.

  I step out through the door, gun at the ready. Pelt stands there. He's not wearing his helmet; his eyes are wide and expectant. The puncture wounds made by those leech parasites are still visible in his skin as a myriad of small, black dots.

  Fellebe stares at him. 'Pelt? You were supposed to stay in the shuttle.'

  'Come back to me,' he breathes. 'I died ten minutes ago.'

  I use my fist to push him hard against the wall. Even as he falls, his body dissolves, spewing thousands of insects. In seconds, nothing of Pelt's body shape remains. The insects are streaming for the outside world again.

  'What a planet,' I hiss. 'Sweet life, what a planet!'

  ELEVEN

  AS WE MOVE ALONG THE CORRIDOR, THE MAN FOLLOWS US. 'A name.'

  The Captain pauses. 'Pardon?'

  'A name. I should have a name.'

  'That's conventional practice.'

  'Then I must have one too,' the man gushes.

  'We'll have to debate that later, sir. First, we have work to do.'

  'Oh? Daleks.'

  'Yes. Daleks.'

  'Then let me help you. I know the layout of these tunnels.'

  'You're volunteering to be our guide?'

  'Of course. And of course I must have a name. We can't have you calling me "sir". Or "that man" or "hey, you!" '

  'You've remembered your name?' The Captain is hopeful.

  'Oh, no.'

  'Sir!' Sweet life, does he sound irritated. 'Sir. Return to your quarters and please wait for us there. This won't take long.'

  'I can help. But to help, I need a name.'

  'Sir-' I figure Captain Vay is close to ordering one of us to haul the man back to his living quarters. 'You have to understand that-'

  'Professor! Call me Professor. Yes… Professor has a pleasing ring. Now let me show you the way.' He throws out a hand toward a door and declaims: 'Bathroom!'

  We're in the search programme. We act automatically. With a crisp hand signal, Captain Vay orders Golstar and Amattan to check the room. They return in seconds.

  'All clear, sir.'

  Captain Vay nods at the man. 'OK, Professor. Show us what you've got down here.'

  'My pleasure, Captain. This way.'

  I see the screen pulsing red on Rain's sleeve. A sure sign that the place is filthy with Daleks. Only there's no visual confirmation yet. But, then again, who knows what lies beyond the next door?

  The man who now calls himself Professor stands outside another doorway. 'Guest bedroom. Rather a mess, really. I've been using it to store-'

  'Stand aside, Professor.' Tar'ant and Pup enter. I glimpse an untidy room piled with furniture.

  'Never had guests,' the Professor explains. 'Now, the next one is the library. All clear? Good. And this is the kitchen. Please excuse the dirty dishes. I simply didn't anticipate visitors.' Tense now, Captain Vay motions us forward. He's so focused on the search that he doesn't respond to the Professor's rambling explanations of solo domestic life. 'Rain. Golstar.' He gives the hand signal to enter. They do so, gunstocks snug against their shoulders in case they need to fire.

  The Professor grimaces. 'It won't be pleasant in there, unfortunately. Grease on the cooker. Half eaten casserole in the pan. And as for the plate in the sink? Heaven alone knows what I'd left on that, but it's returning to primordial slime. Yesterday I was sure I saw something move in there… something alive. You see, there are never enough hours in the day to do everything that one would wish to-'

  'Captain… Captain!' That's Rain's voice. There's an edge to it that sets my heart pounding. She's seen something.

  Captain Vay slips the handgun from the holster. 'What shows, ranger?'

  'You'd better take a look at this, Captain.'

  TWELVE

  A PLANET OF SWAMPS? OF ELECTRICAL STORMS THAT KILL OUR instruments? Disgusting airborne leeches? A place where a swarm of insects can form the shape of a human being? I remembered the unnerving appearance of Pelt. How 'he'd' dissolved into a cloud of flies when I struck 'him' I had believed I was becoming accustomed to the planet's surprises - only I wasn't prepared for this.

  When Rain called us through into the kitchen we found her and Golstar standing by the stove. They were staring at the furthermost wall. The expressions on their faces spoke volumes.

  Now as we come through the doorway the Professor follows, then pauses beside me. 'Good Lord! It was never like this before,' he exclaims.

  He's staring across the kitchen with such a look of astonishment that it compels me to turn and look again, too. Even though I've already seen it.

  Captain Vay glances back at the man. 'Professor. I take it your kitchen's altered its appearance?'

  'Indeed it has,' he breathes. 'Indeed it has. Remarkable.'

  We're all staring across the kitchen table. Past a cabinet I recognise as the refrigerator; past the stove, kitchen sink; past food preparation areas. For there is no wall to be seen at the far side of the kitchen. What's more, the room is now open to the outside world. We are looking at a fabulous rain forest, drenched with blossom in vivid hues - pink, vermilion, lilac and gold. The land slopes downward away from the kitchen for some distance, then rises steeply into a cliff face. Perched on top of the cliff is a huge building bristling with slender towers, while the structure itself appears to be formed of different sized cubes, one stacked upon the other or supported on columns. A confabulation of severe angles and sharp, straight lines that all but bellow power and ferocity. It is the architecture of tyranny. Even though the appearance is of ruin, somehow decay has lent it a powerful aura of menace. Holes have corroded in the structure's walls. Vines snake up towers and columns alike. Trees even appear to grow through the rooftops. An unholy mating of nature at its most malignant with the artificial at its most sinister.

  Birds call in the forest. I
nsects hum. A breath of warm, jungle air oozes into the kitchen, bringing with it rich, organic smells, all spiced with the cloying scent of exotic blossom.

  'Quite remarkable,' the Professor repeats. 'I never would have dreamed that… Goodness, my goodness, the size of that building on the rock. Remarkable.'

  Captain Vay turns to him. 'Professor, you're telling me you were unaware of the existence of that structure?'

  'Absolutely, Captain. And you?'

  The Captain doesn't answer. I know, however, that our instruments have failed to detect it. They should have - its dimensions, its shape, its construction, its configuration all indicate one word: Dalek.

  THIRTEEN

  WHAT NOW? NO SOONER DO I THINK THE QUESTION AS I GAZE at that metallic citadel on the rock than the Captain gives the order. 'Lock down visors. We've no comm link, so stick close. At all times remain in verbal and visual contact. Check your weapons.' He scans our faces. 'That structure is our primary target. Its screening must still remain one hundred percent functional; if it had degraded so much as a degree, the scouts would have locked onto an installation of that size on their first sweep of the Quadrille.'

  I look at the sky. It is a clear blue. That in itself makes me uneasy when I remember the dark lowering clouds and thunder bursts that accompanied our walk to the tunnel complex. Danger signals flash inside my head. I open my mouth to speak to the Captain.

  Brusquely, he gives the order to move out; he's in no mood for debate. 'Jomi. Kye. Tar'ant. Remain here with the Professor until we give you the all clear. He's your responsibility. Protect him.'

  Which also means: 'Guard him.' We still cannot say unequivocally whether he's our guide, our ward, or our prisoner. If anything, when I glance at him, he's as surprised at the vanishment of his kitchen wall as we are.

  Captain Vay gestures to the rest of the platoon. 'Dissari. Fellebe. Golstar. You go first. Rain. Pup. Amattan. You take the rear behind me'

  As they move out into the steaming jungle, leaving us behind, the Professor gazes at the Dalek citadel on the rock with wonder, coupled with just a suggestion of-

  'Back!'

  The Professor moves with a speed that catches Kye and me off-guard. He's standing between us when he turns and pushes us back into the kitchen with so much force that I stumble against the table and Kye loses her footing; she falls sprawling on her back. Tar'ant and I immediately aim our weapons at the man before he can attack again.

  'No,' the Professor shouts, pointing toward the jungle. 'Look out there!'

  A shadow falls from the sky; one with hard edges and straight lines. An oblong of darkness. It lands against the opening in the kitchen to lie flush with the remaining walls, forming a complete seal.

  'What have you done?' I demand.

  The Professor points to himself. 'Me? Nothing' He gestures for us to move back. 'I suggest you don't go near it.'

  'What is it?'

  'Good heavens. I don't know. If I don't know my own name, or how I got here, how should I know the nature of that thing?'

  Kye climbs to her feet. 'It's forming a barrier between us and the outside… It's restricting the amount of light entering.'

  She's right. It's like viewing the terrain through a vast sheet of tinted glass. I can still see the rain forest, the blossoms, the citadel, the rest of the platoon. But there is something smoky and muted about the colours now.

  'Captain!' I call. 'Captain Vay!'

  They don't react. The platoon still scan the rain forest for any suggestion of threat. But strangely they're unaware that the Professor and three comrades are sealed back in the kitchen area with this shadowy barrier between us and the outside world. I join the Professor in examining the barrier.

  'My guess,' the Professor murmurs, 'is that this barrier had the density of gas until it reached the position where the wall once stood. Then it condensed…'

  'Captain!'

  'Oh, I don't think he will hear you.'

  I know soon enough that the Captain and the rest of the platoon cannot hear me. Already they are perhaps thirty paces from us. They're still warily looking ahead into the forest, checking for potential threats.

  Danger. In my blood stream, every corpuscle is beating with red danger lights. The sense of impending dread is threatening to overwhelm my training.

  Kye cries urgently: 'Jomi! They've seen something!'

  They have. I see them react to a threat that I can't see from this angle. The Captain is turning and moving his mouth (only I hear nothing - no sound reaches me through this wall of shadow); the platoon scatter. As they do so, I see them shouting. They point into a dense mass of bushes. Sweet life, they have recognised something there. A 'something' that has shaken them to the bone. The Captain's hand gesture tells me that he's given the order to fire at the target I can't see. The platoon's weaponry blasts tear through vegetation, sending balls of flame into the air. Whatever's concealed in the greenery returns fire. The platoon dive desperately for cover behind creeper-covered rocks and tree stumps. I sense the panic and shock in my comrades. They are fighting for their lives out there. Vivid bursts of light. Explosions. Bolts of energy that turn vegetation to steam. Yet, in all that fury and movement, I don't hear so much as whisper. Those are my friends battling for survival, I sense their terror, but that shadowy slab has separated us from the commotion just a few metres away. The Professor, Kye, Tar'ant and I have been reduced to mere spectators.

  The unseen attacker blasts a tree stump behind which Pup is sheltering. Timber is ripped to pulp with such savagery that the concussion knocks Pup back end over end, as if he's a doll thrown by a petulant child. I gasp with relief as I see him scramble to his feet, apparently unhurt, and dive into a hollow in the ground as yet another dazzling bolt of energy burns a hole through the very air above his head. The vacuum created by its passing is enough to suck grass and leaves in its wake, until the entire scene is misted green with airborne debris. Ducking, weaving, driven by panic and adrenaline, the platoon return fire into the heart of the bushes. Captain Vay risks leaping onto a fallen log to give him a clear shot. This time, we're rewarded with the sight of a direct hit. Whatever lurked in those branches has fired its last shot; a colossal blast throws up a column of greasy orange flame. Even so, the shock wave of its detonation races outward in an ever-expanding ring of debris that knocks the Captain reeling from the log.

  I see no jubilation at what has been destroyed (and now I'm beginning to guess the identity of our foe), because still the platoon has to sprint from tree trunk to boulder as yet more of the enemy hidden in the forest join the battle. I see a salvo of shots tear furrows into the ground beyond the screen. Once more, the platoon flee in panic. I see Pup throw himself behind a mound of rocks. Golstar and Amattan dive into the undergrowth, but more weapon blasts from the forest set the plants ablaze, forcing them to run back for the uncertain shelter of the kitchen. Amattan launches himself at the kitchen wall, seems to strike it, then somehow stops dead. But our attention is drawn from him to Golstar. He's almost back at the barrier when he pauses and stares in our direction in surprise. Worse, I see the expression of fear through the visor turn his face into a mask. His head turns from left to right, scanning the kitchen area.

  'Dear heaven,' the Professor breathes. 'He cannot see us.'

  Kye leans forward until her head almost touches the barrier. 'What is it out there?' She turns to me. 'Jomi. They're fighting for their lives!'

  What is it out there? she'd asked. Somehow I think she knows.

  We see Golstar wade through the vegetation. With the weapon in one hand, he uses the free hand to reach out to touch the barrier. To him, there must be no transparency. Perhaps he sees a solid wall. Feverishly, he runs his fingers over the substance, as if hoping to find an entrance back into the building and safety. His mouth opens as he shouts to us. We hear no sound. We don't even hear the sound of what happens next.

  A ball of light - a blue, eye searing ball of light. It engulfs Golstar. He throws out both
arms. Behind the visor, his eyes widen in shock and agony. Then the bolt of naked energy hurls him forward against the screen, holding him there, pinning him face forward against the massive transparent sheet. Uniform and flesh boil away in a gush of vapour. Soon only charred bones and helmet are held there. A horrific skeleton pattern blazing against the barrier. Then the fire is gone. And so is Golstar.

  FOURTEEN

  I HEAR KYE YELL: 'JOMI. TAR'ANT! HELP ME WITH AMATTAN!'

  He made it through the barrier, I tell myself. He's safe in here with us. That's what I think… That's what I self-delude.

  'Amattan…' Don't worry. We'll help you. You'll be all right. Those were the words I was going to say. Sweet life, I wish I could say them now…

  His screams are shrill. I've never heard so much pain distilled into a single note of agony from a Thal.

  This is what I see. It makes my blood run to ice in my heart.

  Amattan made it through the membrane of shadow that had infilled the void where the kitchen wall once stood. But only part way.

  For a whole minute we stand there in shock watching Amattan - or what we see of Amattan. His right foot, plus the entire section of leg beneath the right knee, has passed through the boundary into the kitchen. So has his left hand as far as his wrist. The front of his head is in the kitchen. The rest of his body and head is fixed in the barrier, the substance of which seems to be solidifying further with each passing moment. It is as if he is lying in a pool of black liquid that somehow defies gravity to stand in the vertical. Although most of his body is immersed, part of his leg, hand and face are raised above the surface.

  'Jomi, help me,' Kye yells. She grips Amattan's hand and pulls. Only this makes the pain worse; screaming, he pleads with her to stop.

  I flick open his transparent visor. I flinch back at the sight of his eyes. They bulge proud of his head. His skin is purple with congested veins. His lips are swollen and dark. Blood trickles from his nostrils; more blood slicks his tongue crimson.