by Doctor Who
There was movement, behind the metal men. Freddie caught it in the corner of his eye – a brief blur, quickly gone. He stared at the space where it had been, on the landing outside the broken door.
Something on the stairs perhaps. A shadow.
The second time, he saw it clearly. A face cautiously rising up. Someone was lying on the stairs, looking into the room, like a soldier looking over the top of a trench. Freddie didn't know who it was – the round, friendly face of a man with slicked-back dark hair. The face was red, as if climbing the stairs had been an effort.
The man saw Freddie looking at him, and a hand appeared – thumbs-up. Then hand and face dipped down out of sight again.
Freddie thought about this. What did the thumbs-up mean? That help was on the way? That everything would be al right? He found Rose's hand and squeezed it, hoping she might understand that he was tel ing her to be ready, though he was not sure what for. Hoping she might have seen the figure on the stairs and the thumbs-up. But she was watching the other woman – mask thankful y back in place
– and she barely glanced at Freddie.
He dug her in the stomach with his elbow, and Rose grunted in annoyance and pain. She glared at Freddie. Freddie nodded at the stairs, as brief and subtle a movement as he could manage and stil convey the message. She looked where he gestured. Saw nothing. Wrinkled her eyebrows and forehead into a 'what?' Freddie nodded again. She looked back.
And this time, she did see. Freddie could tel from the way she stiffened. She saw, as he did, the two men creeping up the stairs. One of them was tal and smart in a dark suit. The other, the man who had given the thumbs-up, was so incredibly fat that Freddie almost laughed. He wondered how the man had managed to hide on the stairs, he was so big. But his face was set in a determined expression, and he was holding a gun.
The Doctor and Repple had seen the men too. Freddie could tell by the way their eyes moved. By the way they looked away – looked anywhere except at the men on the landing. The men now stepping into the room.
One of the metal figures swung round, somehow alerted to the threat from behind them. A second later, the other metal man turned as wel . As soon as it moved, the fat man leaped forward, surprisingly quickly. He jammed the gun into the Painted Lady's neck. The metal figures froze.
'Wel done, Wensleydale,' the Doctor said.
The fat man smiled. 'My pleasure, Doctor. Now Mr Crowther will lead you and your friends to safety while I keep these people here.'
'You won't escape,' Melissa said. Her voice sounded strained.
Wensleydale laughed. 'Oh, I know that. So you'd best be careful, you and your chums here.'
'What do you mean?' Rose demanded. She was pushing Freddie towards the door where Crowther was waiting. The metal men swung round to watch, but made no attempt to stop them. 'You're coming with us.'
Wensleydale shook his head. 'I'm out of puff just coming upstairs. I'd only slow you down. I can't run. But you must.'
The Doctor and Repple were both looking at Wensleydale now. 'There must be another way,' Repple said.
'Let's discuss this,' the Doctor suggested.
'We have discussed it, Crowther and I. You should go. Not waste any more time.'
The Doctor nodded to Rose. 'Go on.'
Freddie was on the landing now. He and Rose and Crowther stood at the top of the stairs. Melissa gave a snarl of anger as Repple moved slowly, reluctantly, to join them.
'We may have to run,' Crowther said quietly.
'Makes a change,' Rose replied.
Wensleydale had relaxed slightly now Freddie and Rose were apparently safe. He turned to the Doctor as Repple stepped on to the landing. 'Now, you leave too, Doctor. No argument.'
The Doctor's mouth opened to reply. But the words never came. As Wensleydale glanced away, at the Doctor, Melissa Heart brought the smal weapon she was stil holding towards her face. If Wensleydale saw the movement, perhaps he thought it was a cigarette. He hesitated, only a moment. But long enough.
The tip of the tube glowed red. The Doctor's reply became a shout of warning. Fire spat across Melissa's shoulder and caught Wensleydale ful in the face. The gun went off. But Wensleydale was already fal ing lifeless to the floor, and the shot went wide – slamming into the lead panel ing on the other side of the room.
'Run!' the Doctor shouted. 'Find Wyse.'
Crowther pushed Rose and Freddie ahead of him down the stairs. Freddie looked back to see the Doctor leaping forwards. But one of the metal knights stepped into the Doctor's path, blocking his escape.
Repple was on the landing, looking from Freddie and the others to the Doctor and back. In that split second Freddie could almost see the wheels in Repple's mind turning as he assessed his chances, as he decided what to do.
Then Rose was dragging Freddie with her down the stairs, and the metal feet of one of the Mechanicals were thumping rapidly after them.
The stairs were a blur. Two landings, perhaps three. More stairs. Stil the thump of the metal nightmare that was chasing them. It had seemed so cumbersome, so slow. But now it was moving rapidly, gaining on them. It would catch up with them before they reached the ground floor, Freddie realised.
At the next landing, Rose turned to descend the next flight of stairs. Like Freddie and Crowther, she was gasping for breath, glancing back. The metal figure was close behind them now. So close that Freddie thought he could hear its ticking.
Crowther grabbed Rose's arm, pul ing her back. 'This way!' he shouted, leading them along the landing, away from the stairs, down the corridor.
'We'l be trapped,' she shouted back. 'There's no way out.'
'Fire escape,' Crowther shouted back.
'We'l never get to it.'
She was right. Freddie didn't know where they were heading, but the Mechanical was almost on them.
A metal hand clutched at Freddie's back. He risked a look over his shoulder. It was so close he could see the rivets on the helmet, hear the click and tick of the mechanism that control ed the fingers that snapped and bit at him. He gave an involuntary shriek of fear and looked away.
'Only a few yards,' Crowther gasped.
Ahead of them, on the floor, Freddie could see what looked like a plank of wood, lying across the corridor. Together with the others he stepped over it as they ran. It was only a couple of inches thick.
But as soon as they passed it, the plank rose up in the path of the Mechanical. Freddie caught a glimpse of the old man standing in the doorway at the side of the corridor, holding one end of the plank, lifting it into the path of their pursuer.
The Mechanical slammed into the plank of wood with a splintering crash. The plank had cracked and bent, but it held. The metal man was stopped in his tracks, knocked backwards, and fel heavily to the ground. Freddie caught the briefest glimpse of the Mechanical's fate. He saw the helmet visor jarred free as the head hit the floor. Like Melissa Heart, its mask came away to reveal the lack of a face beneath.
Instead there was a mass of cogwheels, clicking round rhythmical y. Tiny gears and levers worked furiously. Flywheels spun and mechanisms clicked. Where the forehead should have been, a large multifaceted glass or crystal stood slightly proud of the mechanisms, catching the light as the creature struggled to stand up. Like the jewelled mechanism of a clock.
Freddie and the others did not wait to see how long it took to recover. Two old men were with them now, already breathless and stumbling. A metal scraping sound from behind them – dragging, maybe the Mechanical clambering to its feet. Freddie did not look back.
There was a room at the end of the corridor, the door standing open. They almost fel inside, and Crowther slammed the door shut, locking it and pocketing the key. 'Wel done, gentlemen,' he said.
The two old men were both doubled up, getting their breath back. One of them, Freddie realised with surprise, was laughing.
The other straightened up and looked round. Rose was at the window on the other side of the room, opening it. 'There's a ladder d
own,' she said. 'Fire escape. Hurry up, that thing wil be back in a minute.'
As if in answer, there was a heavy thump on the door. Then another, and a third.
'Where is Wensleydale?' one of the old men asked.
Crowther guided him to the window, where Rose was waiting. He looked back at the door, at the panels that were already splintering and splitting apart. 'I'm afraid Mr Wensleydale won't be joining us,'
he said quietly. 'We did discuss this, and he asked me to convey his apologies.'
Rose was waiting for Freddie. She helped him through the window and on to the ladder. 'What will happen?' he asked her.
'We'l find Wyse,' she told him. 'As the Doctor said.'
'I meant, what wil happen to the Doctor? And Repple?'
She didn't answer.
Repple looked up from Wensleydale's body. 'And you cal me a murderer.'
'I had no choice,' Melissa said.
'There's always a choice,' the Doctor told her. 'Why did you choose to stay?' he asked Repple.
'You are in harm's way because of me, Doctor. I could not abandon you to these... people.'
'And now?' the Doctor asked.
'Now you wil come with me back to my house,' Melissa said. The remaining Mechanical stepped forwards, urging them towards the door.
'Tea? How kind.'
I have a ship ready to take us back to Katuria.'
'No tea?'
'And there you wil stand trial for your crimes. Both of you.'
'Both of us? 'Repple said.
The Doctor's eyes narrowed as he watched Melissa, waited for her reply.
'It wil be a triumphant moment, though overshadowed by the thought of the death, the carnage, the destruction you have caused.' She was staring straight at Repple, through her mask. 'The trial of the hated Shade Vassily, who is responsible for so many deaths.' She turned to face the Doctor. 'And his accomplice.'
THIRTEEN
The thick glass distorted the murky waters outside. No light filtered down through the Thames, so the glass wal reflected back the image of the Doctor and Repple staring at it. The room was a featureless square, a blocked-off part of the tube that connected the basement of Melissa Heart's acquired house to the airlock of the spaceship she had concealed on the riverbed.
At gunpoint, she and the Mechanical had led the Doctor and Repple from the imperial Club. The other Mechanical was waiting for them at the house. It gave a halting account of how Rose, Freddie and Crowther had escaped. Melissa dismissed this as irrelevant. She had who she wanted. Now, while she sent messages to arrange an escort and instructed the Mechanicals to begin the power-up procedures, the Doctor and Repple were confined to the space between cel ar and ship.
'Fish tank,' the Doctor said angrily. Airlocks were at either end, and two wal s of glass. Above them, glass, below them, the riverbed seen through glass. Like standing underwater. He thumped his fist on the transparent wal in front of him. He could feel it give beneath his hand, the mirrored image shimmering as the glass moved.
'I don't think you can smash your way out,' Repple said.
'Not without creating a weak point somehow. Need something sharp to score it, or heavy to wal op it.
Preferably both.'
'There is no escape,' Repple pronounced. He stood staring at his reflection. 'I shal face my trial and execution with the dignity of a Katurian noble.'
'Melissa seems to think you're anything but noble,' the Doctor pointed out.
'Propaganda. The revolutionaries have to justify seizing power somehow. They do that by blaming the previous regime-blaming me – for imaginary misdemeanours.'
'Misdemeanours? She was talking about genocide. Whole communities wiped out to preserve your empire.
Planets ravaged for daring to question your authority. Thousands of people simply disappearing to suit a political purpose.'
'There are two sides to every event,' Repple replied fiercely. 'Yes, there were rebel ions that were put down. Yes, planets tried to secede from the empire. But it was in their best interests to stay part of the al iance and that is what the majority of their populations wanted.'
'So you wiped them out?' The Doctor shook his head, incredulous.
'Of course not. She exaggerates. There were no reprisals, no needless executions. Everything was done with honour and justice. The empire would fal apart if it wasn't based on fairness and the struggle to do what is best. It wil fal apart now these murderers and mercenaries are in control.'
'You real y believe that?' the Doctor asked quietly.
Repple was staring right at him in the glass; his reflected gaze held the Doctor's. 'I do. You saw what she did to Aske.'
'He was trying to kil her.'
'He was trying to save us al .' Repple looked away. 'I should have died in his place.'
The Doctor clicked his tongue and paced out the length of the glass-wal ed cel . 'Discovering the truth's very difficult when so many people are lying,' he said. 'Even harder if they don't know they're lying.'
'Meaning?'
'That you real y believe Shade Vassily, ruler of Katuria with al those titles and long words after his name, is an honourable man. Noble.'
'How else could I live with myself?'
'But Melissa obviously thinks differently. How can you both be right?'
'She is lying,' Repple said. 'Or wrong. Or both.'
'Yeah, it comes down to who I believe. She has the passion, behind that mask. The anger and resentment and commitment. Yet you...' He paused, turned, paced back. 'You stayed to try to help me.
You insisted that Freddie not be put in danger. You grieved for your friend, who was also your jailer and might have been your executioner.'
'Thank you, Doctor.'
'For what?'
'For believing me.'
The Doctor's smile froze on his face. 'Don't thank me yet. Your actions are at odds with Melissa's description. Doesn't mean she's wrong, though.'
Repple turned from the glass and pointed at the Doctor. 'So, you think I have changed? Mel owed with my exile? You believe I am a reformed mass murderer?'
'One possibility. But like the truth about you and Aske, several theories may fit the same facts.
Perhaps none of them's right.'
'She thinks I was an unjust ruler,' Repple said vehemently. 'That is simply not true. I was deposed by extremists, terrorists with their own twisted agenda.' He jabbed his finger into the Doctor's chest. 'I was not a despot.' Another jab. 'I was not a tyrant.' He was advancing, making the Doctor move back to the glass wal behind him.
At the next jab, the Doctor caught Repple's hand in his own. With his other hand, he jabbed back at Repple's chest. 'You were not a ruler at al ,' he said.
'Are you cal ing me a liar?' Repple cried. 'You think that perhaps Aske was Vassily?'
'No.' The Doctor's voice was calm now, almost soothing. 'Course not. He knew you were Shade Vassily. He died for that belief, his belief in you. He was as sure that you're Shade Vassily as you are. After al , he was sent to protect and guard you, sent to keep you in exile. Given al the facts.' The Doctor shook his head sadly. 'Except one.'
'What do you mean?'
'You know,' the Doctor said, resuming his pacing, 'how sometimes you only appreciate something when it is taken away from you.,
'You mean my freedom?'
'I mean more like the hum of the central heating or the air conditioning. You only notice it was there when it stops. While it's constant, part of the nature of things, it's unremarkable. Just the way things are.
Your brain doesn't even bother to tel you about it, unless there's a change that might be important.'
'Is this important?'
'Like Melissa's Mechanicals,' the Doctor went on. 'If you're with them long enough, you don't even notice they're clicking at you.'
'Your point being?' Repple demanded.
'My point being that it's like the ticking of a clock. You don't hear it, but it's there. Only I have the opposite problem.' He tilted h
is head to one side. 'Do you hear it?'
'Hear what?' Repple listened for a moment, then shook his head. 'There's nothing.'
'Oh? You see, I can hear – when I bother to listen – I can hear the ticking of a clock. Which is odd.
Because...' He paused, encouraging Repple to finish the thought.
'Because there is no clock in here.'
'Exactly. And I've been in this situation before. Several times recently.' He took a step forwards, standing toe to toe with Repple, looking him in the face. 'And always I've been with you.'
Repple said nothing. His face was a blank mask, devoid of expression.
'You're not Shade Vassily,' the Doctor said. 'You just think you are.' And he reached up and took off Repple's face. 'Sorry.' He stepped aside, allowing Repple to see his own reflection in the glass wal behind. 'Real y, l am.'
Repple just stared. Stared at the mass of cogwheels that clicked round rhythmical y.
'It took me a while,' the Doctor admitted.
Tiny gears and levers worked furiously.
'But I realised I've never seen you smile. Or frown. Or laugh.' He folded up the artificial face and pushed it into his pocket. Bit like Melissa, real y.'
Flywheels spun and mechanisms clicked.
'Oh, your voice does it. There's inflection and emotion. Very clever.'
Where the forehead should have been, a large multifaceted glass or crystal stood slightly proud of the mechanisms, catching the light reflected from the glass and the rippling water outside.
'You eat and drink and sleep. But it's al rather mechanical, isn't it?'
Like the jewel ed mechanism of a clock.
Repple's mechanised face was at odds with the tortured rasp of his voice. 'I stil can't hear it.'
'You live with it al the time. Perhaps they programmed you not to.'
The face turned slowly towards the Doctor. Every part of it seemed to be alive. Only the crystal did not move, but it seemed to as it reflected the light. 'What am I?' Repple demanded. He clutched at the Doctor's shoulders, dragging him closer. 'Who am I?!'
With a whirr of gears and an anguished cry, Repple let go of the Doctor and sank to his knees. His whole body was shaking, as if he were sobbing. But there were no tears, no eyes to cry them.
