Doctor Who - [New Adventure 29] - [Vampire Trilogy 2] - Blood Harvest

by Terrance Dicks

  The Doctor waited. After a while he started singing an old Earth ballad in a loud tuneless voice. The words of the ballad consisted of the phrase "Why are we waiting?" sung over and over again.

  "Silence!" bellowed Zorell. The Doctor ignored him.

  In a cell not far way, Agonal was imprisoned in a cone of light. Three cloaked and hooded figures watched him from the darkness beyond. A wallscreen showed the Doctor imprisoned in the metal chair.

  The taller of the three figures said, "As you see, the Doctor is our prisoner. The Doctor who scorns you, who has hunted you, who has ruined your schemes, who has twice almost captured you. Aid us and he is yours."

  Agonal did not speak.

  The second figure said, "We helped you to regenerate the vampires, even the Great Vampire, with our technology. The Doctor destroyed your work, frustrated your plans."

  The third speaker said, "Help us and you shall have your revenge."

  There was a long silence. Then Agonal spoke, his voice a little muffled by the immensely powerful energy-field that held him captive. "What would you have me do?"

  Ace had pulled all the edging from her jacket, leaving her with a long strip of soft black material rather like old- fashioned liquorice. She slipped a knife from her boot and began packing the long black strip along the fine line that marked the meeting point of the two doors.

  Romana and Bernice looked on admiringly. "You're certainly not without resources are you?" said Romana.

  "Amateurs," said Ace scornfully. "Hand over your gunbelt and that's it? Amateurs!"

  She finished packing in the black stuff, put her jacket back on and pulled off two of the buttons.

  "Time to take cover. This next bit is best viewed from behind the sofa."

  Feeling rather silly, Bernice and Romana ducked down behind an oversized couch. Ace stuck the buttons at the top and bottom of the strip of black stuff and then pressed down hard on the centre of each one in turn. The buttons started pulsing with light, and Ace ran to join Romana and Bernice.

  Peering over the back of the sofa, they watched as a fierce white light ran out from the buttons and along the strip. When the two lines of light met there was a flash and a dull crump - and the doors gaped open.

  Ace jumped up and slipped through the gap. Hurriedly Bernice and Romana followed.

  A hidden door slid open behind the table, and three figures emerged and took their places in the three chairs. They wore the elaborate high-collared robes of members of the High Council. The Doctor regarded them with polite interest.

  The councillor in the central chair was tall, broad-shouldered and handsome, with a great beak of a nose and golden hair. He wore the orange and scarlet of the Prydonian Chapter.

  The other two councillors were considerably less impressive. The one on the Doctor's left wore the green of the Arcalians. He was small and wizened with a pinched, mean face. The one to his right, robed in the heliotrope of the Patraxes, was plump and sleek with thick lips in a round, sensual face.

  The central figure spoke. "I am Councillor Rath," he said. He waved a hand towards the plump figure on his left. "This is Councillor Elar." He nodded to his right. "This is Councillor Morin. We are the Committee of Three - a special committee of the High Council responsible for matters of security."

  "With a squad of bully boys to back you up?"

  "The functions of the Chancellery Guard, Doctor, as you must know, are largely ceremonial - "

  "That's how I like my soldiers: aristocratic, decorative and useless. Much safer for everyone."

  Elar said, "We wish to know why you have returned to Gallifrey, Doctor."

  "We insist on knowing," said Morin.

  The Doctor ignored them. He was staring hard at Rath. "You're very like your elder brother, aren't you? I knew Chancellor Goth very well."

  "You ended his career, Doctor - and his life."

  "I understood that Chancellor Goth died in a heroic attempt to capture the Master?"

  "That was the cover story. My committee uncovered the truth."

  The Doctor was silent for a moment. "Then you know that the Master used your brother as his champion against me in the Matrix - and sacrificed him. Your brother died because his mind was burnt out by the strain."

  "After you had defeated him! I have a second, even better reason to hate you, Doctor, you and all your previous selves. Not that I will allow the fact to prejudice me against you."

  The Doctor's gaze swept scornfully across the little group. "So, what have we here? An ambitious Prydonian, with his career blocked through guilt by association. Oh, I know there was a cover story but the people who mattered knew the truth, they always do. So he allies himself with an Arcalian and a Patraxean - a couple of insignificant high-benchers."

  Elar and Morin reacted angrily to the insult. Time Lords of any importance sit on the lower levels of the benches that run round the great circular Council Chamber. Only the insignificant perch up near the roof.

  "And what do this precious trio do?" asked the Doctor rhetorically. "They form themselves into a nice little committee and take over security - an area no right-minded Time Lord could be bothered with. Gradually they get their hands on more and more power. What's the final plan, gentlemen? Shoot down the Chancellery Guard and oust President Flavia in a coup?"

  Elar sprang to his feet. "We have far more ambitious plans than that, Doctor - "

  At an angry look from Rath he subsided into his seat.

  "Our plans do not concern you, Doctor," said Rath. "It is your plans that concern us. Why did you return to Gallifrey?"

  "I can disclose that only to the President."

  "We can compel you to speak, Doctor."

  At a sign from Rath, Zorell's two guards wheeled for ward a sinister-looking contraption consisting of a set of controls with a metal helmet suspended above them.

  "Oh no," said the Doctor wearily. "Not the mind-probe!"

  Romana, Ace and Bernice were hurrying along endless echoing marble corridors.

  "Are you sure you know where the Presidential office is?" demanded Bernice.

  Romana looked worried. "I used to, but I've been away for quite some time."

  A tall, blond and handsome captain in the Chancellery Guard came round the corner and marched straight towards them. Ace went instinctively for the knife in her boot, but Romana pushed her hand away.

  "Oh Captain!" she called in her highest, most aristocratic voice. The captain hurried up to her. "My Lady?"

  "I am the Lady Romanadvoratrelundar."

  He gave her an elaborate salute. "I don't think I've had the honour of meeting you before."

  "I've been away from Gallifrey, on a mission to the outer planets." She lowered her voice. "I've brought a delegation from the Barbarian Women's Committee back to meet the President and I just can't seem to find her office."

  "Allow me to escort you, my Lady." He led them along the corridors, looking curiously at Ace and Bernice. "I admire your courage, my Lady. To dare to leave the civilization of Gallifrey for the barbarism of the outer planets - and to mingle with such creatures as these! Can they talk?"

  "Oh, just a few simple phrases. Actually, they're quite sweet when you get to know them."

  Ace chucked the astonished captain under the chin. "Me Jane! You Tarzan?"

  He blushed. "I'm sorry?"

  "It's a mating call," said Bernice. "I think she likes you." She smiled seductively at him. "I like you too!"

  The captain increased his pace.

  Summoning up all his resources, all his mental barriers, the Doctor stared straight ahead as the mind-probe helmet was lowered over his head. He could, he knew, resist the mind-probe for a time. But not for ever. Nobody could.

  "Why did you come back to Gallifrey?" asked Rath.

  "I will speak only to the President."

  An agonizing jolt seared through the Doctor's brain.

  "Why did you come back to Gallifrey?" Another searing jolt, a little stronger this time.

&nb
sp; "Why did you come back to Gallifrey?" It went on for some time like this, getting steadily worse. As he felt consciousness slipping away, the Doctor sensed that his interrogators were simply going through the motions. They didn't really want to find out why he'd come back to Gallifrey. Either they already knew or they didn't care.

  They were torturing him just for the fun of it.

  Lady Flavia was hard at work in her office, her enormous desk piled high with papers, scrolls and micro-records, the extraordinary mixture of old and new that was Gallifreyan bureaucracy. Since she had given strict orders that she was not to be disturbed on any account, she was surprised to see Secretary Pogarel enter her office, followed closely by several complete strangers.

  "What is the meaning of this, Secretary Pogarel?" she said without looking up. "Why have you brought people to see me against all my orders?"

  Pogarel, a lean, precise Gallifreyan bureaucrat, spoke with his usual dignity. "For two good reasons, Madame President. Firstly, one of them, the Lady Romanadvoratrelundar, convinced me that the matter was indeed one of great importance."

  "And the second?"

  "The tall young lady in black is holding an extremely sharp knife between my ribs."

  President Flavia looked up. She waved her secretary aside and studied the strangely assorted trio. A thought struck her.

  "You wouldn't be friends of the Doctor by any chance?"

  The voices seemed to come from very far away.

  "I'm afraid he's fainted, Councillor Rath. No use going on till we can revive him. It'll take a little time."

  "I'm afraid we don't have time, Lieutenant. We have a vital mission to complete - the culmination of all our plans. I'll have to leave him to you. See if you can soften him up for me before we get back."

  "My pleasure, Councillor."

  "Don't get carried away, though. I need him alive."

  Opening his eyes with an immense effort, the Doctor saw the three councillors disappearing through the door by which they had entered.

  He slipped back into unconsciousness.

  In the secret chamber the wallscreen showed the unconscious Doctor slumped back in the metal chair, black-clad figures grouped around him. One of them slapped his face, again and again.

  Rath, Elar and Morin confronted the imprisoned Agonal.

  "You see the Doctor, a helpless prisoner in our hands," said Elar.

  "You see his suffering," said Morin. "He can suffer more, much more before he dies."

  Agonal said nothing, but for a moment a spark of red glowed in his eyes.

  Rath said, "You will do as we ask? We are agreed?"

  "We are agreed," said Agonal. "And when it is done, you will give me the Doctor. He shall suffer agonies of torment for all the rest of his Time Lord lives."

  Rath touched a control and the cone of light faded, leaving Agonal free. The three stepped back, wary of the force they had unleashed. Agonal did not move.

  Rath touched another control and a transmat-booth lit up in the corner of the chamber. "If you will come with us?"

  "I have no need of such devices," said Agonal. "We meet at the Tomb." He stood regarding them scornfully for a moment and then faded into nothingness.

  The Doctor felt Zorell's hand under his chin, shoving his head back.

  "Good, he's coming round. Look, this is getting boring. Let's put up the power two levels each time. That'll make him talkative."

  "Or an idiot," said the first guard. "Or a talkative idiot!" said the second.

  Zorell laughed. "They only said he had to be alive. They didn't say he had to be sane."

  The main door of the chamber was flung open and a burly, broad-shouldered figure strode in. The newcomer wore plain robes and a close-fitting helmet. He had a barrel-chest, big hands and a stern, weathered face with a heavy jaw. He was Castellan Spandrell, Commander of the Chancellery Guard, and he was Gallifrey's version of a tough cop. He and the Doctor were old friends.

  "Good old Spandrell!" thought the Doctor muzzily. He wondered if he was dreaming.

  Castellan Spandrell strode over to Zorell and swatted him, a bear-like backhanded blow that knocked him off his feet. Zorell staggered back up, clawing for his blaster, and Spandrell clouted him again, so hard that he went down and stayed down.

  By now the two guards had drawn their blasters. Ignoring the weapons, Spandrell grabbed each one by the collar and knocked their heads together with a resounding clunk, dropping the unconscious bodies to the floor.

  If it was a dream, it was quite a good one, thought the Doctor. Chancellery Guards were flooding into the little room. "Clear out this rubbish and lock them up," ordered Spandrell. "Come along, Doctor." He released the clamps and lifted the Doctor's limp body from the metal chair.

  When the Doctor came round he was in a high-backed chair in President Flavia's office, with the President herself holding a silver flask to his lips.

  The Doctor took a refreshing sip and felt an almost miraculous sense of strength and well-being flooding through his body.

  He tried to push the flask away. "The Elixir of Life," he whispered. "Madame President, it is too precious.. ."

  "Drink, Doctor," said Flavia firmly. "A little is kept for emergencies, and no one deserves it more."

  The Doctor took a measured sip and handed back the flask. He looked up and saw Romana, Ace and Bernice looking anxiously at him. He held out his hands and they crowded round him.

  Romana said, "I hope you are somewhat recovered, Doctor?"

  Ace touched him briefly on the shoulder. "All right, Doc?"

  Bernice hugged him and burst into tears.

  "Your friends' methods are vigorous but effective, Doctor," said Flavia. "They broke free of confinement and told me of your danger. You owe them your freedom."

  "I owe them my sanity," said the Doctor. "And very probably my life as well." He patted Bernice awkwardly on the back. "Well, this is all very nice but we can't just sit here. There's work to be done."

  "You need not exert yourself further, Doctor," said Flavia. "Castellan Spandrell has matters well in hand. Before long the entire Special Security squad will be under arrest. Their leaders have fled, but the transduction barriers are up and they cannot leave Gallifrey. Their capture is only a matter of time. All is well now."

  "Don't you believe it, Madame President," said the Doctor. "Our troubles are only just beginning."

  30 RASSILON

  In an anteroom of the Tomb of Rassilon, Morin and Elar were adjusting a complex but compact machine which looked rather like an electronic cannon. Rath stood watching them impatiently.

  Agonal appeared beside him. "What is this machine?"

  "It's a Time Gun - a temporal force-field generator. If Morin's calculations are correct, it will disrupt the temporal stasis around the Tomb itself."

  "Why do we delay?"

  "They need to build up the energy levels and fine-tune the field. It's a complex business." Rath gave Agonal a look of agonized concern. "When we start to use the Time Gun, Rassilon will awake. None of us can stand against him."

  "None but I," said Agonal. "I shall make his strength my own."

  President Flavia sat patiently behind her Presidential desk while the Doctor strode up and down the Presidential office, watched by Romana and Castellan Spandrell. Ace and Bernice had gone to see how Dekker was getting on.

  "The trouble is, I still don't know what they're really up to," he said. "There's a hidden agenda, I'm sure of it!"

  "A simple take-over, surely," suggested Spandrell. "I've had my eye on them for quite a while. These movements crop up from time to time, Doctor - boils on the body politic. Calls for stronger government, for a policy of more active Time Lord intervention in the affairs of the cosmos."

  "You accuse us of wanting only to observe the universe, Doctor," said Lady Flavia. "We charge you with wishing to meddle with it - with the best of intentions of course. People like this want to rule it, and order it to their liking."

  "Rath, Morin a
nd Elar," muttered the Doctor. "You'd think even they must know they're not up to it"

  He sat down by the Presidential desk, and Romana drew up a chair close beside him.

  "Let's take it from the beginning," said the Doctor. "The Three leaked me that report from the Temporal Observation Bureau, saying Agonal was probably going to be active in 1930s Chicago. They knew Agonal was an old obsession of mine so they could be pretty sure I'd go after him. By a useful piece of sychronicity, Romana came across evidence of something disruptive happening on the Vampire Planet. I was determined to follow the Chicago trail, so I sent Bernice Summerfield to look into it and hold the fort with Romana until I could get there." He looked round. "Clear so far? Right! Agonal realized I was after him in Chicago, and made several attempts to get me killed. I tried to capture him, missed, chased him to the Vampire Planet and missed again - because the Three Timescooped him to Gallifrey!"

  Flavia looked shocked. "They have reactivated the Time Scoop?"

  Spandrell was punching up records on a terminal. "Morin and Elar are first-rate temporal engineers. They've both worked in Temporal Control."

  "They used me as a stalking horse," said the Doctor. "They wanted me to find Agonal so they could take him. They knew I'd follow so they wanted me here as well - but why?"

  "To kill you, surely," said Romana. "Rath hated you because of what happened to his brother."

  "He said he had two reasons to hate me," muttered the Doctor. "To hate all my selves ... Can you check Rath's political record, Spandrell old chap?"

  Spandrell stabbed at the keyboard with blunt fingers, then looked up from the screen. "When the Goth business put a crimp in his career, he attached himself to Borusa's party. When Borusa became Lord President, Rath was one of his loyalest supporters."

  "Then you turned up and defeated Borusa too," said Romana.

  "In his eyes you'd destroyed his big brother and his beloved leader."

  The Doctor nodded. "No wonder he hated me."

  Castellan Spandrell chuckled. "Oh, he hated you all right, Doctor, they all did. According to one of my informants, they even included you in the chant that ended their meetings."