The Dalek Factor

by Simon Clark

  'Professor,' I scream. 'It's crushing him. Help us get him out!'

  The Professor's eyes are huge; he stares at our trapped comrade in horror. Then he shakes his head. 'My friends, I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry…'

  Amattan is screaming in agony. The free leg kicks; the ranger's gloved hand is bunched into a quivering fist.

  'Can't we burn him out?' asks Tar'ant, fingering his weapon.

  The Professor shakes his head. 'The barrier would simply form again - it's like trying to blast a hole through smoke.'

  'We have to do something,' Tar'ant.

  'You cannot save him,' mutters the Professor in obvious distress.

  Savagely I push the Professor away. 'No!'

  The man straightens, but he is winded by the shove. 'The wall… It's crushing him… There's only one way to help him. You can stop his suffering.'

  'No… No!' The words rip through my throat. I raise my weapon. I'm ready to use it, too. On the wild-eyed stranger calling himself 'Professor.' But not on my friend, Amattan. Never Amattan!

  'Jomi!' This is Kye. 'The Professor's right. There's nothing else we can do'

  Gulping, I turn. Aim the weapon at my friend's face. I'm sick. Sick through to every cell of my body.

  'Fire, Jomi,' she cries. 'He's in agony!'

  Amattan's face is distorted by the enormous pressure encircling it. The constricting force of the barrier around his wrist increases to the point where it is greater than the structural strength of the wrist bone. With a snick it pinches through flesh and bone. Amattan's severed hand falls twitching to the kitchen floor.

  When I thought the man couldn't scream any louder, he does. 'Please end it,' Kye begs.

  'No. You!'

  'Jomi, I can't. My gun's locked.'

  I look into Amattan's ruined face, seeing so clearly in my mind's eye the large brown eyes in Yo's face after the mineral conveyor crushed her. And how I'd hit her with the rock. And how she wouldn't die as I so desperately tried to put her out of her misery.

  'Jomi, stand aside!' Tar'ant pushes me away.

  I seem to be struggling from a deep sleep.

  A blast of light. I flinch, covering my mouth with the back of my hand.

  It is Tar'ant who has committed the merciful act. The searing heat of the gunshot kills Amattan in an instant. He will feel nothing more.

  Only I feel waves of remorse - and a deep burning sense of failure. Just as I failed Yo, I've failed Amattan.

  ***

  Later. We're back in the living room. The Professor sits on the arm of a sofa, staring into space with those unusually intense eyes of his. Kye flips up her visor.

  'Golstar and Amattan didn't stand a chance.'

  'I know they didn't.' My mind plays a loop of what happened to our comrades. The way Golstar's suit, then flesh ablated from his body. The blood boiling away in jets of steam. Bones sticking to the transparent wall before sliding down into the dirt. How Amattan had leapt through the gaseous wall as it rapidly condensed into a solid. He'd been locked inside that dark matter as it hardened, crushing him to the point where he…

  I shake my head, snapping out of the grip of the horrific mental image. 'Priority one. We've got to rejoin the platoon.'

  'But how?' Tar'ant paces the room. 'You saw the opening reseal itself.'

  'There'll be another way.' I nod back toward the corridor. 'We return the way we came in, then follow the slope up over the hill. The structure we saw must be on the other side of that.'

  Kye checks the ammo cyst on her gun. 'I'm carrying a full charge. And you?'

  'I'm on full, too.'

  Tar'ant nods, 'Full to the brim and ready to go.'

  'Good', Kye's voice becomes a snarl, 'because I'm ready to kill something.'

  I catch her eye. 'You know what we're dealing with here?'

  She nods.

  'Then let's blast some Daleks.'

  Tar'ant slaps the stock of the gun. 'Count me in.'

  The Professor suddenly breaks out of his trance. 'Daleks? They did that to your comrade?'

  'Yep. They'll do the same to us unless we hit them first.' I nod at Kye and Tar'ant. 'Ready?'

  'Ready!' We're locked into hunt and destroy mode now. We've trained for this so often it's as natural as breathing. 'Tar'ant, you take forward. I'll cover left flank. Kye, you take rear and right flank.'

  As we move into the corridor, guns at the ready, I hear footsteps behind me.

  'It's OK, Professor,' I tell him. 'You can stay here now.'

  'Oh, but I'm coming.'

  'Why would you want to do that?'

  'I might find what I'm looking for?'

  Sweet life! More nutty talk.

  Kye asks, 'And what might you be looking for, Professor?'

  'I don't know. But I'm sure I'll know when I find it.'

  'Stay here, Professor. If you can lock the doors, do so.'

  'Yeah,' Tar'ant's expression is grim. 'If you hadn't noticed, it's not safe round here.'

  We move off along the corridor. Ahead is the plush armchair in the centre where we first saw the man reading his book.

  I snap words back over my shoulder. 'Professor. Your living quarters are back the other way.'

  'No.'

  'Professor-'

  'No. I'm coming with you. Don't try and stop me, please! I know it's important. I've got to go where you go. That's the key to all this. I'll find the key that explains everything. Everything.'

  Kye hisses to me. 'Damn. He's going off in one of his loops again.' Then to the Professor. 'Go back to your room. Now!'

  'Kye. We haven't time to argue with him. Let him come if he wants.'

  'Why not.' Then she adds darkly: 'We'll probably lose him out there in the jungle anyway.'

  We turn the corner into the section that leads to the tunnel entrance. What we see is enough to bring us to a dead stop. As Tar'ant moves for a closer look, Kye turns to me, her eyes wide.

  'Looks like someone closed the door,' I breathe. 'OK, Professor. How do we open it?'

  He stares at the entrance that has now been sealed by a black slab. 'Search me. I've never been down this far.'

  'You flinched when Captain Vay used the word "prison".'

  'Did I?'

  'Is this what we're in now? A jail? A prison built for one?'

  Kye gives the man a searching stare. 'It appears you've just got some fellow inmates.'

  FIFTEEN

  OF COURSE, WE CHECK THE DOOR. WELL, MORE SLAB THAN door. The nature of the thing is pretty obvious, too.

  Kye runs her hand over its smooth surface. 'Same material as the barrier in the kitchen.'

  The man touches it. 'Only unyielding and it's lost its transparency. It must have been here longer.'

  'There are no controls: I turn back to Kye. 'So what now?'

  Tar'ant slips his firearm from his shoulder. 'I can burn through it.'

  'You could try. But it won't do any good.' The Professor lightly traces a finger across the barrier as if trying to find a secret pulse.

  'Professor. These guns have got a hell of a punch. They can poke a hole through any known material in the universe.'

  'What about unknown material, hmm?' He raps a knuckle on the black surface. 'You can burn a hole through this, but immediately more of the substance will flow into the void and repair itself.' He stands back. 'You see, it's not a solid. It's a gas. Dense gas - incredibly dense. Under so much compression it's hard as rock. But, shoot holes in it? You might as well shoot holes in fresh air.'

  'Seems you know a lot about it.'

  'Yes, I do, don't I? How extraordinary.'

  Kye lets out a whistle. 'Perhaps you'll come in useful after all, Professor.'

  'I hope so. And I pray you will be useful to me.'

  'OK, Professor.' Tar'ant shoulders his gun. 'I'll trust you on that one - for now. So let's put our new partnership to the test. Do you know if there's another way out of here?'

  He smiles, then gives one of those apologetic shrugs we've come to k
now pretty well by now.

  I hear Kye vent her breath in frustration. 'Looks like we're going to have to search this place from top to bottom.'

  As we walk back along the corridor, Kye fires questions at the man. 'There aren't any more tunnels running off this one?'

  'Not that I'm aware of.'

  'No locked rooms you don't have access to?'

  'None.' Then adds in a puzzled voice. 'I did have a key once.'

  'A key?'

  'Yes, an important one.'

  'What kind of key?'

  'It was a-' He grunts, his face twisting with pain, eyes narrowing, bleeding tears through the slits. 'Uh.'

  'Professor?'

  'What!' He thunders. 'Are you going to fire questions at me for the rest of eternity! Are there any locked doors? What key? What prison? What time? Questions - questions! I don't have to answer any of them. You don't own me! You're nothing to me! You are trespassers! You've no right to be here!' The words blast from his lips in furious torrents. Now his eyes blaze at us. 'If you listen to me, do as I say, then you might - just might! - get out of here with your lives!'

  With that he turns and marches down the corridor. We follow. Bemused, Tar'ant shrugs. Kye makes a gesture that I interpret: 'What the hell brought that on?' I shake my head. The man's weird mood swings are becoming more pronounced. When we first arrived, he was good-natured, languid, unfazed by our arrival. Now there's something manic about him. Prickly. Edgy. Even downright bad tempered.

  From a doorway a figure steps out.

  Kye reacts with surprise. 'Pup? Sweet life, are we pleased to see you! Where's Captain Vay?'

  Pup stares at us, then opens his mouth. 'We are all lost in the dark, ranger. Soon you will be lost, too.'

  The Professor continues striding along the corridor, yet swings out an arm, hurling Pup against the wall.

  'Professor, what are you…?' Kye's voice trails off. Pup simply evaporates into a cloud of flying insects.

  'Don't you ever learn, children?' The Professor doesn't even glance back as he snarls the words. 'Those are walking, talking hives. They'll lay the eggs of their young in your skin if they get half the chance. You'll be hollowed out within the week.'

  Kye is rattled by the scolding. 'I could have sworn it was Pup. It looked so like-'

  'Yes, yes. Have you seen a stick insect mimic a stick? Or a chameleon change its colour? Nature is nothing if not resourceful. Look. That shadow on the wall I'm making. Is it a bird with its beak open, or is it my hand and fingers mimicking the action? Hmm?'

  Now the Hmm sound is aggressive rather than dreamy.

  'The Greek God Proteus could change into any shape; take on any form; disguise himself perfectly.'

  'Greek God?' I echo, finding the man more bewildering than ever.

  'Yes. Greece and its Gods - Zeus, Apollo, Athena, Dionysius, the aforementioned Proteus… ah.' He stops to wave a finger at us. 'But you're not Homo Sapiens of planet Earth, are you?'

  'We are Thals.'

  'Yes, of course… But Earth? I'd forgotten all about Earth. Yes.' With his fingertips he taps his chin in rapid movements, almost like someone operating a keypad. 'Earth. A little blue-green world populated by a quarrelsome race of beings. Infuriating but imaginative. Territorial to the point of psychosis. Pragmatic yet ineffably spiritual. My, my… I wonder what happened to them?'

  'Professor.' I step a little tentatively in the hope of avoiding triggering his wrath again. 'Professor, it seems that you are starting to remember more and more.'

  'Ah, a question disguised as a statement. Good, good. That is shrewd; see disguise, whether it is physical form or words, has its uses.' He walks away again, only to stop after three paces and whirl round. 'Yes… yes! I am remembering more.' He strides away. 'But whether that's going to be helpful - or dangerous… only time will tell.'

  We make that search of the complex. All we find is what we've seen before. A length of tunnel some three hundred and eight paces from the armchair to where it terminates (the Professor reminds us often that he's paced the distance); eight rooms leading from that tunnel for domestic use. The kitchen wall is just how the Professor remembered it of old. It no longer appears as a slab of dark material. Neither is it transparent. No trace remains of Amattan. From the wall's vertical plane hang kitchen utensils. The man taps a copper pan that hangs there. It chimes faintly.

  'Extraordinary. See.' He motions us closer. 'Nothing more than gas - all of it. In our absence, these pans and kitchen instruments have been extruded from the same material. Like those insects - like the god Proteus - this material can adopt any form it wishes.'

  Tar'ant sniffs the air as if sniffing for danger. 'Or whatever intelligence that controls it dictates.'

  'Yes, you're probably right, Tar'ant.' He flicks the pan. The sound is more like a gong now. 'But of course, this may be automatic. There may be no intelligent controller as such. But the three of you believe this is the work of that thingy-ma-bob you call a Dalek, don't you?'

  'All the clues indicate that is the case.'

  'You really don't like the Daleks, do you?'

  'No sane Thal would.' Kye speaks with real heat. 'You've never heard of them, so you don't know what they do.'

  'And what do they do?'

  'They're a billion times worse than those walking hives you have here. They might not lay their eggs in your skin, but they consume anything and everything to preserve their existence. They're like a virus spreading through the universe. If it suits Dalek purpose they'll slaughter every single life form on a planet, then strip-mine it until it's an empty husk. They've even been known to suck dry entire stars of their energy. They are without conscience. Probably the only reason why more species haven't been wiped out by the Daleks is that the poisonous monsters want to see if nature produces any more evolutionary developments that they can exploit to make the Dalek race more powerful.'

  'They do sound formidable, don't they?'

  'Formidable! They are Death, that's what they are: Death!'

  'But there is another force more formidable. More ruthless.'

  'Yeah, and what that might be?' Kye sneers her disbelief.

  'The Thals.'

  She flinches as if she's been slapped.

  'After all,' he speaks softly now, 'the Thals have driven the Daleks out of this arm of the galaxy, haven't they?'

  'How did you know that?'

  'I don't know how. But it's true, isn't it?'

  This statement by the peculiar, mood-shifting man makes us all fall silent for a while. We wait in the kitchen without knowing why. Perhaps hoping that the fourth wall will simply melt away again to reunite us with the platoon. From time to time, we check the comm links in the forlorn hope that we can either speak to Captain Vay or to the ship still orbiting this stinking swamp of a planet. Tar'ant opens every cupboard, perhaps in the hope it will reveal an exit, but all he finds are packs of food and kitchen utensils. Kye mentions the possibility of HQ becoming so concerned by their loss of contact with Captain Vay's platoon that they'll launch a search and recovery party. We wince at the thought of this. To have to be rescued by another platoon would be shameful for us. However, I doubt this will happen. Not yet anyway. The global electrical storms here are so intense that HQ will simply guess we're sitting out hostile weather until it clears. Then we'd be free to make contact before taking the shuttle back to the ship. The Professor listens to our conjecture without comment. For a while we settle into silence, simply staring at the black wall. Maybe it will vanish? Maybe the platoon will find another entrance to this complex?

  The Professor eventually breaks the silence. 'If you need a meal, there's no time like the present?'

  Kye looks at me. 'I guess it couldn't do any harm. We're not going anywhere in a hurry.' With a sigh of relief, she eases her helmet from her head and shakes her hair loose.

  'Suits me,' says Tar'ant. 'What you got, Professor?'

  'I'll take tea, but I imagine you're not familiar with that, hmm?'

/>   'Tea? No. But I could use a drink of cold water. Kye… Kye?' I see she's staring toward the door. Immediately I spin round to look at what she's seen. My finger slips round the gun trigger.

  A child stands in the doorway. She's watching us with calm, grey eyes. There's no expression on her face. She does not move. Does not even blink.

  The Professor turns from the sink with two cups of water. He nods at the child. 'Shall you, or shall I?'

  Kye shakes her head, her eyes fixed on the child's face. 'No. That's my sister.'

  The Professor sets down the cups on the table. 'You know what she is, Kye. She's not your sister. The insects have a telepathic ability. They can select a memory of someone you love and mould themselves into that image.'

  'I know. I know. She's one of those disgusting walking hives.'

  'Then don't tarry or they'll be burrowing into your skin. Then where will you be?'

  Kye swallows. 'My sister's dead.'

  'Oh. I'm sorry, I truly am.'

  'She was killed with her friend when they triggered a mine. It would have been…' Kye shakes her head, unable to continue.

  'Those responsible?' The Professor's voice is gentle. 'Daleks?'

  'Daleks,' I confirm.

  Tar'ant adds: 'When they withdrew from liberated planets they seeded the soil with millions of tiny mines. They're powerful enough to maim and kill if you're close when they detonate. We run thorough sieving programs, but still one or two get through.'

  'Believe me, I am sorry.' The Professor nods toward the child that is nothing more than a densely packed mass of insects. 'But we have to be rid of our uninvited guest.'

  'I understand,' Kye tells him. 'But I'd rather not watch this time'

  'Of course.' He looks at me. 'Jomi, isn't it?'

  I nod.

  'Then Jomi, will you comfort your colleague while I deal with this?'

  I put my arm around her shoulders while positioning myself between her and the copy of her sister.

  'The trick is…' The Professor moves toward the child shaped figure. 'The trick is to break up the hive as soon as they form themselves into a humanoid figure. Prevents them from engaging the breeding cycle. Uh?'