The Taking of Chelsea 426

by David Llewellyn

  The Doctor nodded. He didn’t want to leave Chelsea 426 any more than Mr Carstairs did, but the man was asking him to save his children, and placing all his trust in a person he neither knew nor particularly liked. That was enough for him.

  ‘C’mon, kids,’ said the Doctor, turning to the twins. ‘We’re going for a quick spin in a TARDIS. You too, Major.’

  ‘Right-ho!’ shouted the Major, walking out from behind the desk.

  Jake followed the Major, and they walked toward the elevators. Vienna held back.

  ‘You coming, Vienna?’ said the Doctor, smiling in an effort to lift her spirits.

  Vienna looked from the Doctor to her father, who was still watching the crackling white snow on the video screen, and then to her mother, who was gazing idly up through the lobby windows at the cruise ships anchored at the Western Docks.

  ‘I. . . I don’t know. Mum? Dad?’

  Her mother didn’t respond. Only her father turned to face her.

  ‘Darling,’ he said, ‘please. Go with him. We’ll be OK here. Trust me. I’m sure this will all be sorted out soon enough.’

  He smiled as best he could, but Vienna saw the tears welling in his eyes.

  Mr Carstairs turned to the Doctor and nodded; a subtle gesture but one loaded with much meaning. If he could have said anything more it would have been, ‘Look after them.’

  The elevator doors opened with a single chime, and the Doctor, the Major and the twins got in.

  Seconds after they’d left, the Sontarans arrived, six of them in all. They marched into the lobby, their group leader approaching Mr Carstairs.

  ‘In the name of Sontar, I place you under arrest. You are to come with us immediately.’

  For the first time in an age, Mrs Carstairs turned away from the windows and looked directly at the Sontarans with the strangest flicker of a smile. Two of the Sontarans approached her, turning her violently before placing her wrists in metal cuffs.

  ‘Bess!’ shouted Mr Carstairs, turning to the group leader and punching him in the face. The creature’s flesh was so much harder than he had imagined – more like a steel-toed leather boot than a human face – and the Sontaran barely flinched.

  He struck Mr Carstairs with a baton and then stunned him with an electrifying bolt that he fired from one end of the weapon. Then he cuffed his prisoner and dragged him violently to his feet.

  ‘This way,’ the Sontaran grunted, marching Mr Carstairs toward the doors. Before they left the hotel the group leader turned to one of his team and said, ‘Search the rest of the building. There may be others.’

  ‘I say, old chap, where exactly are we going?’ asked the Major as they stepped out of the elevator and into the corridor.

  ‘To my room,’ said the Doctor. ‘My TARDIS. . . I mean, my ship is there. We’re going to get these two out of here. You too, if you want to come along for the ride.’

  ‘Mm,’ the Major huffed. ‘I’m not so sure about that. Beating a hasty retreat and whatnot. Sounds an awful lot like surrender, if you ask me. You know, this reminds me of the Siege of the Hexion Gates.’

  ‘Really?’ said the Doctor, failing to mask his lack of interest.

  ‘Quite,’ said the Major. ‘A hundred of us stuck in the hull of an old B-Class Destroyer. The thing was riddled, looked like a blimmin’ colander. Barely enough oxygen to last us till teatime. Then these things turned up. Ugly brutes, so they were. Demanded we surrender or they’d shoot us all into little bits, you see?’

  ‘Right. . .’ said the Doctor.

  Vienna was now walking at his side, her brother following closely behind.

  ‘Doctor?’ she said. ‘What’s going to happen to our parents?’

  The Doctor stopped walking and turned to face the children, crouching slightly so that he was level with them.

  ‘Your parents are going to be fine. Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to them. I just need to think of something. . .’

  He straightened up and started walking again, his face scrunched up in concentration. Yes, he needed to think of something, but what? It was at times like this he missed having regular company. Not that he was helpless by himself, of course. No, the very idea was ridiculous. It was just helpful having another person to bounce ideas off.

  There were Sontarans, and there were Rutans, and there were thousands of passengers and visitors. Was this one of those occasions when it might be enough to save just three lives?

  He wouldn’t have it. He’d seen far too many people suffer at the hands of creatures like the Sontarans and the Rutans, and had too many painful memories of their suffering. This, he decided right there and then, would be one of those occasions when he saved them all. He needed to speak to General Kade.

  They were almost halfway to the door of the Doctor’s hotel room when a figure appeared at the far end of the corridor. It was one of the Sontarans.

  ‘Halt!’ the creature bellowed, as it marched forward, its rifle aimed squarely at them.

  ‘Hands up, kids, hands up,’ said the Doctor, holding his hands in the air.

  ‘Blimmin’ surrender monkey,’ said the Major. ‘They’d have hanged us from the sat-com dish if we’d done this in my day.’

  ‘Yes,’ hissed the Doctor under his breath, ‘but we’re not in your day, are we? Plus, he’s got a gun. We haven’t.’

  The Sontaran stopped marching when he was only a few steps away from them.

  ‘You will come with me,’ he snarled.

  ‘Right,’ said the Doctor. ‘And where are we going, exactly?’

  ‘That is no concern of yours,’ said the Sontaran. ‘You are in the custody of the Fourth Sontaran Intelligence Division, pending our investigations.’

  ‘Only you see,’ said the Doctor, ‘I’m the Doctor. I was talking to your General Kade earlier. Lovely fella. And he said I was free to go, if I wanted to.’

  The Sontaran turned now so that his back was facing the Major, Vienna, and Jake.

  ‘Is that so?’ he growled.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said the Doctor. ‘Me and General Kade, we’re like that.’ He held up his hand, his fingers crossed. ‘Of course, if you want to go against the General’s orders, I’m sure we can straighten this out when we get to wherever it is you’re taking us. . .’

  The Sontaran had no chance to reply for, in one sudden, violent move, the Major struck him from behind with his rolled-up newspaper. Dropping his gun to the ground and clutching at a narrow vent in the back of his neck with both hands, the Sontaran fell to his knees, wheezing and spluttering before he collapsed in a heap at their feet.

  ‘Good shot!’ said the Doctor. ‘Where’d you learn that?’

  ‘The Siege of the Hexion Gates,’ said the Major, beaming. ‘Never could stand those blimmin’ Sontarans. Still. . . Quick pop on the back of the neck usually sorts ’em out. Probic vent, they call it. Hit one of ’em there and it’s like kicking a chap in the you-know-whats.’

  ‘Yes, Major,’ said the Doctor. ‘Now shall we go? Any time soon-ish? No hurry or anything, it’s just he might wake up.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. Of course,’ said the Major. ‘Lead on, Macduff, and all the rest of it.’

  GENERAL KADE LOOKED out through the glass dome of the Mayor’s office at the black sky above and smiled. There would be medals upon his return to Sontar, of that he was sure. Medals and recognition. There were many in the Sontaran Empire who treated the Intelligence Division with disdain. Theirs was not a proper army, it was argued. Military Intelligence – espionage and the like – was a Rutan practice, ill-befitting a proud Sontaran warrior.

  The Intelligence Division, for its part, had argued time and time again that in a war that they were losing thanks, partly, to the Rutans’ cunning, they must match them in every aspect of warfare. Some in Sontaran High Command had spoken in favour of sending a whole fleet of battleships to destroy all life on every planet, moon and planetoid in this solar system. It was only Kade’s eloquent counter-argument, delivered at the Senate, that had persuad
ed them otherwise. A simple search-and-destroy mission might eradicate all Rutan presence in that particular system, but there would be other worlds where the Rutans would have planted similar traps. Only by investigating the matter properly and interrogating the suspects would they gain any sort of advantage over the Rutans.

  From the other side of the office there came the sound of a knocking at the door.

  ‘Enter!’ Kade snapped.

  The door opened, and Colonel Sarg entered.

  ‘Progress?’ said Kade, turning to face his second-in-command.

  ‘We have rounded up all but a handful of the humans,’ Sarg replied. ‘Unit B is ready to destroy the plants, sir, and the prisoners are being concentrated into the docking areas. We have control of the colony, sir.’

  ‘Splendid,’ said General Kade, balling one hand into a fist and then slapping it into the palm of the other.

  ‘Permission to speak freely, sir?’ said Sarg. He seemed agitated.

  ‘Permission granted, Colonel Sarg.’

  ‘Sir. . . I cannot help but think it would simplify matters if we were to exterminate all of the humans on this colony.’

  Kade grunted, eyeing the Colonel in the patronising way that a teacher might look at their pupil.

  ‘Colonel Sarg, you are no longer in the Battle Fleet. This is the Intelligence Division. We do things differently here. Our goal is victory, as it is the goal of the whole Sontaran Empire, but our methods are quite different. The human prisoners may seem like a hindrance to you, but to me, and indeed to the Intelligence Division, they are a vital asset in our war against the Rutans.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said a voice from the doorway. ‘But war, ay? I mean. . . What is it good for, exactly?’

  Both Sontarans turned to see the Doctor standing in the doorway.

  ‘You?’ said Kade. ‘How did you get in here? There must be at least a dozen guards in the corridor.’

  ‘Gift of the gab,’ said the Doctor. ‘And the gab is, after all, mightier than the gun. Anyway. . . Hello!’

  Sarg lifted his rifle and aimed it at the Doctor.

  ‘That will not be necessary,’ said General Kade. ‘Lower your weapon, Colonel Sarg. The Doctor and I will talk. . .’

  ‘But. . .’ Colonel Sarg began.

  ‘In private,’ Kade added.

  Giving the Doctor a malevolent glare and hissing through clenched teeth, Colonel Sarg left the office, closing the door behind him.

  Kade gestured towards the chair facing the Mayor’s desk.

  ‘Please,’ he said. ‘Sit.’

  The Doctor nodded and, after crossing the room, sat down.

  Kade remained standing, circling the desk slowly.

  ‘You ask what war is good for, Doctor,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah,’ said the Doctor. ‘Well, actually it was Edwin Starr, originally. Or was it Sun Tzu? I can never remember. . .’

  ‘Such a pointless question,’ said Kade. ‘Asking a Sontaran to explain the relevance of war is like asking a human to explain the relevance of music. War, Doctor, is our culture. It is why we exist. Furthermore, I fail to understand how one such as yourself can sit in judgement upon the Sontaran Empire.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ asked the Doctor.

  ‘Are you not the last of your kind?’ said Kade. ‘Were your people and your world not destroyed in a calamitous war?’

  ‘That’s true,’ said the Doctor.

  ‘Then you understand what I am saying,’ said Kade. ‘Your people obliterated themselves in war. The people you care so passionately about, these humans, have spent every day of their existence fighting and killing one another, almost without exception. Our species are not so different. Time Lord, human, Sontaran – all dedicated to war. The only difference, Doctor, is that we Sontarans are proud to admit it. We understand our nature. The Time Lords operated under the pretence that they were a benevolent and superior race, and yet they still participated in the greatest act of self-annihilation the universe has ever known. The humans decorate their day-to-day existence with their superstitions, their culture, their love of so-called beauty, and yet they are little more than savages killing one another for personal gain and pleasure. Who, Doctor, are you to judge?’

  ‘I’m not judging you.’ The Doctor got up from his chair and faced Kade directly. ‘I just want you to leave these people alone. You and the Rutans can wage your war elsewhere, but not here. Not with these people. Your war has nothing to do with the humans.’

  ‘If they are human,’ said Kade, ‘they have nothing to fear. If they have become hosts for the parasitic Rutans, then I am afraid their fate is a little less fortunate, but it was not us who involved them, Doctor. Remember that.’

  ‘And what will you do with them?’ the Doctor asked.

  Kade smiled.

  ‘We shan’t kill them,’ he said. ‘Not yet, at least. They are worth infinitely more to the Intelligence Division alive than they are dead. When the Rutans first placed their trap in the atmosphere of this planet they imagined their hosts would be Sontarans. Fortunately for us the humans got here first. Humans are weak of body. Though the mind might be Rutan, the body is still quite human, and quite frail. The application of physical discomfort will soon result in many of the Rutans giving up valuable information regarding their plans and whereabouts in this sector. . .’

  ‘You’re talking about torture,’ said the Doctor.

  ‘Well done,’ said Kade. ‘You’re learning fast. We shall probably start with the younger prisoners. Their resistance to pain is so much weaker than the adults of the species, so I’m told. . .’

  The Doctor stepped forward, raising his finger in anger, but still managing to hold himself back.

  ‘If you harm just one of them. . .’

  ‘You’ll do what, exactly, Doctor? As warlike as your people may have been, I don’t believe you have the nerve to do anything truly radical. You could have struck me then, but you didn’t. If I were you, Doctor, I would leave while you still have the chance.’

  The Doctor nodded, still shaking with anger. He turned his back on General Kade and walked towards the door.

  As he left the Mayor’s office, Kade called out, ‘How does it feel, Doctor? How does it feel to have been outwitted by the Sontarans?’

  THEY SAT AND waited in the darkness. Beyond the heavily bolted cupboard door they heard the sounds of the shop being torn apart: shelves ripped down, boxes overturned, the cash register being smashed into pieces and its contents jangling out onto the wooden floor.

  They had sat and waited, silently, as the Sontarans came in and arrested Mrs Pemberton, dragging her out of the shop, screaming her husband’s name to no avail.

  Typical Sontarans, thought Mr Pemberton. They turned every stone but never thought to break down a cupboard door. If they had, they would have discovered him and Wallace, hiding in the shadows.

  Only when there had been silence for several minutes did they step out of the cupboard and into the ruins of the shop, ensuring that they were out of view from the windows.

  ‘We’re receiving word from Mrs Carstairs,’ said Mr Pemberton gravely. ‘She and Mr Carstairs have been captured, but the children have not.’

  ‘Really?’ said Wallace. ‘That’s interesting.’

  ‘Quite,’ said Mr Pemberton. ‘It appears the children have been rescued by the Doctor, and taken to his TARDIS.’

  ‘The TARDIS? It’s here? In the colony?’

  ‘Well, of course. There’s a chance they’re still there. In the hotel.’

  Wallace nodded thoughtfully.

  ‘We understand our thinking?’ said Mr Pemberton.

  ‘We certainly do,’ said Wallace. ‘The Carstairs girl?’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Mr Pemberton. ‘She’s taken quite a fancy to young Wallace, hasn’t she?’

  ‘She has.’

  ‘We could use that to our advantage, could we not?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘A TARDIS. In our possession. It would en
able us to leave this wretched colony and travel anywhere in the universe. Anywhere in time.’

  ‘That would be agreeable.’

  There was a long silence between the two of them. Somewhere out in Miramont Gardens they could hear the sound of Sontarans, marching, and so they both ducked down and hid behind the counter.

  ‘Use the ducts,’ said Mr Pemberton. ‘They won’t catch us in the ducts.’

  ‘Where do you think they are?’ said Vienna, pacing back and forth in the console room of the TARDIS.

  ‘I dunno,’ said Jake with a shrug. He was sat in one corner, idly going through the contents of an old crate he had found. All it contained, as far as he could make out, was old junk: a paperback novel, a glowing green ball and what looked like a frisbee.

  ‘You sound like you don’t care,’ said Vienna.

  Jake turned to his sister and scowled.

  ‘I do care,’ he said, ‘but what can we do about it?’

  ‘We should be out there,’ his sister replied. ‘We shouldn’t be stuck in here waiting for the Doctor to come back. How do we even know he’s coming back?’

  ‘I trust him,’ said Jake.

  ‘Yeah? We don’t even know him, not really. I mean. . . Who is he exactly? Look at this place! On the outside it’s, like, this big.’ She held her finger and thumb a fraction apart. ‘But on the inside it’s huge. That’s just not normal. Where did he come from?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Jake. ‘But he said he’d look after us, and that he’d help Mum and Dad, and I trust him.’

  ‘Yeah, well you would, wouldn’t you? You’re too busy daydreaming. . .’

  ‘Now, now,’ said the Major, stirring from a pensive silence. ‘What use is a lot of brouhaha going to be?’

  The twins looked at him in unison with exactly the same resentful frown.

  ‘Listen,’ said the Major, getting to his feet with a grunt. ‘You can argue till you’re both blue in the face, but it won’t solve anything. Not now. This reminds me of the time we were stranded on one of the moons of Mercutio 14—’