Prisoner of the Daleks

by Trevor Baxendale

  'There you are,' said the Doctor, still concentrating on the screwdriver. 'Wondered where you'd got to.'

  Koral reported only to Bowman. 'I've scouted ahead but I can't find anything. The ground gives way further on – sheer drops, then some sort of escarpment. I can't see much beyond that.'

  'We're probably right on the edge of a massive area of subsidence,' noted the Doctor. 'It must've been seismic chaos here.'

  'Anything else? Any movement, sign of life?' Bowman asked Koral.

  'Any sign of ghosts?' Cuttin' Edge added.

  'No. But there is a... smell.'

  Cuttin' Edge snorted. 'Babe, this whole planet stinks.'

  'It's the atmosphere,' said Scrum. 'All sorts of pollutant gases and reactions were thrown up when the planet was split.'

  Koral shook her head. 'I do not mean that kind of smell. I mean something else. Something I can't define. Something not right.'

  'OK,' Cuttin' Edge cocked his rifle loudly. 'Now you're makin' me nervous.'

  Bowman turned to the Doctor. 'What have you got? Anything? If this is some sort of wild goose chase, Doctor...'

  'Shh.' The Doctor now had the sonic screwdriver against his ear, listening intently for some faint signal or another. He made a couple of tiny adjustments and listened again, screwing up his face in concentration. 'We're definitely getting warmer,' he said. 'I'm picking up all sorts of stray chronon activity. It's hard to be sure. There's a lot of background radiation, muons, huons, tachyonic decay... and... and...' He shook the screwdriver and listened again, closing his eyes and holding up a hand for silence.

  'And what?' asked Bowman regardless.

  The Doctor frowned and shook the sonic again. 'And sand, I think. Dropped it on Scarborough beach last month. Took me ages to find it.'

  Bowman sighed. 'This is getting us nowhere.'

  'No! Wait!' the Doctor suddenly yelled, his voice echoing around the rocks.

  Cuttin' Edge and Bowman instantly dropped into defensive crouches, weapons brought to bear. When nothing happened, they straightened slowly and glared at him.

  'I've got it again,' declared the Doctor. 'This way!'

  He sprang forward, hopping down the rocks as if the land had become a series of enormous steps. On either side, Cuttin' Edge and Bowman dropped from ledge to ledge, their guns and equipment rattling.

  'You think there is something down here, don't you?' asked Scrum, hurrying to keep up.

  'What makes you say that?' the Doctor asked.

  'I saw the way you listened to Koral. You took her seriously.'

  'Sometimes you have to trust your instincts, Scrum. Or someone else's. Koral's hackles were raised – the hair on the back of her neck. Stood up like a brush. A primal reaction as old as time. She sensed something all right, she just doesn't know what.'

  'Something dangerous?'

  The Doctor shrugged casually. 'It usually is.'

  'Ghosts?'

  A smile. 'Unlikely – although the sonic screwdriver is registering some kind of time drift. Oh! I've just had a thought.' The Doctor stopped in his tracks. 'Time drift. I wonder...'

  'Wonder what?'

  'Well, nothing really. It's just a bit of a coincidence, when you think about it. Coming here, looking for some sort of temporal disturbance – and when I've already jumped a time track to a period in history when...'

  'When what?'

  The Doctor ran a hand roughly back and forth over his spiky hair, as if trying to dislodge an unwelcome train of thought. 'Nothing important. Just thinking aloud. Take no notice. Wibbly wobbly timey wimey. You really don't want to know.' Then the sonic screwdriver buzzed and the blue light winked faster. The Doctor was instantly galvanised into action. 'Aha! Oh, yes! We're really getting warm now!'

  The Doctor scampered away, screwdriver aloft.

  They moved on, heading down all the time. Further on, they couldn't see anything any more – as if they were approaching the edge of a cliff. Beyond that was a distant mist.

  Looking back up the slope, Scrum was surprised to see how far they had descended. He could just make out the broken spires of the old Arkheon city, and beyond that a dark green sky full of stars.

  'Movement!'

  The word was barked out by Cuttin' Edge. He was already down on one knee, bringing the rifle sight up to his eyes. Bowman had swung around to cover him. Scrum stood, wide-eyed, peering at a patch of broken ground way to their left, his heart racing.

  Everyone stood still. There was complete silence.

  'I thought I saw it too,' said Scrum after a minute. He spoke very, very quietly. 'Out of the corner of my eye.'

  'Yeah,' said Cuttin' Edge. 'That's what I saw. Definitely somethin' movin' past those rocks. We're bein' followed.'

  The Doctor put a finger to his lips. There was a tangle of metal half-hidden in the soil, the remains of another rusting hulk. Flakes of snow drifted off the sharp edges, carried up and away into the night sky by the faintest breath of wind.

  The Doctor crept slowly towards it. Behind him, Bowman and Cuttin' Edge aimed their weapons.

  When the thing launched its attack, flying over the wreckage with a shocking, awful wail, everyone froze. Like a spectral demon from the planet's darkest shadows, the creature dragged the Doctor to the ground.

  FOURTEEN

  Two guns roared. Bowman and Cuttin' Edge had the thing in their sights before it had even reached the Doctor. The two rounds struck simultaneously, throwing the creature backwards like a discarded rag against the rocks. It slid to the ground in a heap of tattered grey material.

  The Doctor was already on his feet, racing to its side.

  Bowman and Cuttin' Edge closed in, their weapons trained on the inert figure.

  'Don't get too close,' ordered Bowman.

  The Doctor ignored him, kneeling down. It was roughly humanoid – but strangely distorted and wrapped in a rough grey shroud. There were two large smouldering holes in the material, and a pale light shone out from inside.

  'Is it dead?' asked Scrum, approaching warily.

  'Course it's dead,' snapped Cuttin' Edge. 'High-impact rounds, hollow tipped. We ain't messin', dude.'

  The creature gave a last, nervous twitch and slumped sideways. The cowl that hid its head slipped and revealed the face beneath.

  'Holy cow,' muttered Cuttin' Edge. 'It's a freakin' ghost.'

  The face was pale and glowing. The skin was actually luminous, shining like the moon, with two eyes set so deep and so immersed in wrinkles that they looked like those of a newborn rat. A gaping mouth revealed yellow teeth and dark, withered gums. The pallid flesh was covered in iridescent spots and pustules.

  'We just shot ourselves a ghost,' Cuttin' Edge repeated. He sounded fearful and thrilled, all at once.

  'Be quiet,' ordered Bowman. He bent down to examine the features more closely. 'What is it?'

  The Doctor shook his head. 'I don't know. The devolved remains of the native Arkheonites, perhaps. Irradiated, desperate, scavenging among the ruins. More wild animal than anything.'

  'It's disgustin',' said Cuttin' Edge.

  The Doctor stood up. 'It's dead,' he said solemnly.

  The creature's glowing face had begun to darken. As they watched, a black stain seemed to spread across its skin, which sagged and crumpled like ancient paper in a fire. Soon the creature was little more than a blackened husk.

  'Whatever it is,' growled Bowman, 'it won't be alone. Look sharp and stay focused.'

  No sooner had he spoken than there was a noise behind them. They turned to see two more of the mutant figures scrambling towards them. They moved with an awkward, urgent gait across the uneven terrain.

  Bowman's gun cracked twice and the figures reeled back. The foremost staggered a few more steps, his tattered hood thrown back to reveal the bright, snarling face and gaping black mouth. Then it collapsed and lay still, face down in the snow.

  'More of them!' shouted Scrum, pointing further back. Half a dozen of the grey, shambling creatures surg
ed into view.

  'Incomin',' muttered Cuttin' Edge, squaring his boots and pulling up his rifle to aim. He and Bowman dropped the first three between them with quick, precise shots.

  The fourth loped across the intervening scrub with a surprising turn of speed, closing in on Koral. She bared her fangs and claws, preparing for battle, but the Doctor stepped nimbly forward, pulling her to one side as he flicked a lump of snow up with the toe of his trainer, straight into the mutant's face. 'Don't touch them! The blood will be contaminated – poisonous! You start digging your claws into this lot and it could be the last thing you ever do.'

  'I will die fighting!'

  'Very likely – but not just yet.'

  The Doctor ducked, pulling her down with him despite her protests, as a volley of fire from Cuttin' Edge's rifle tore through the cold air.

  'They're all over the place!' cried Scrum, helping the Doctor and Koral away.

  'We've stirred up a nest or somethin',' said Cuttin' Edge. He was picking off more of them as he spoke, the heavy boom of the rifle echoing around the wreckage. The mutants were crawling from holes in the ground, their black teeth bared in the middle of glowing, growling faces. 'There's too many of 'em. We need to move out.'

  'This way,' Bowman called. He shot another mutant through the head and climbed swiftly up the slope behind them. 'Get to the high ground.'

  They scrambled up the rocks after him, Cuttin' Edge bringing up the rear. Every couple of paces he would turn and shoot. The creatures were starting to recognise the danger and moved quickly from rock to rock, car to car, staying low.

  'We can't get back to the ship,' Scrum panted. 'They've cut off our retreat.' He had drawn his own blaster and was looking around uncertainly for a target.

  'Cuttin' Edge!' barked Bowman. 'Left flank! Clear a path!'

  'Yo.' Cuttin' Edge dropped to one knee, turning to the left, and switched his rifle to automatic fire. The barrage ripped through the air and tore into a group of mutants climbing up the slope towards them. Their strange, whimpering cries merged into a funereal wail.

  Bowman led the way down, jumping from rock to rock. The Doctor, Koral and Scrum followed.

  'This way!' yelled the Doctor, pointing to a gap in the horde.

  Bowman's blaster roared repeatedly, mercilessly clearing mutants from his path. He strode through the carnage, wreathed in the smoke from his weapon. His boots crunched over the corpses as he led his party onward. Behind them, more mutants were filling the night with hungry snarls.

  'We're being herded,' realised the Doctor, skidding to a halt.

  'What?'

  There was a wind blowing now, cold and harsh, and it took the Doctor's words straight from his lips. He cupped a hand over his mouth and yelled, 'We're being herded! They're forcing us to go this way.'

  Craggy rocks reared ahead of them. They couldn't see what lay beyond, but thin, ragged flurries of snow kept drifting past them, blown down from the summit. They hesitated, uncertain now. Bowman looked back with dark, angry eyes. 'We can't afford to stop,' he growled.

  'They're closing in!' said Scrum, looking back at the approaching mutants.

  Bowman turned and began to climb steadily up the rocks, setting the example. The Doctor, Scrum and Koral hurried after him. Cuttin' Edge gritted his teeth, squeezing off half a dozen more shots, and then turned to follow. Behind him, the pale, glowing creatures were converging on the slope.

  Near the summit, Koral was helping Scrum. 'Th-thanks,' he stammered, breathing heavily. 'I don't think I can go... much further.'

  'Just a little more,' Koral urged.

  'Keep moving!' thundered Bowman.

  Koral hooked an arm around Scrum and supported him as they struggled up the last few metres.

  'What's over the ridge?' asked Cuttin' Edge.

  'No idea,' Bowman said. 'But we're gonna found out.'

  With a final series of lung-bursting steps, they made it to the top. As each of them crested the rise, they halted in their tracks and gaped. A strange, massive silence weighed down on them, crushing them.

  'My God,' breathed Bowman, awestruck.

  'It's... it's impossible,' said Cuttin' Edge.

  Scrum started hyperventilating as a panic attack rushed through him. Koral simply stared, open mouthed.

  They had reached the very edge of the world. Literally – because the ground simply fell away at their feet in a gigantic, immeasurable cliff stretching from side to side, horizon to horizon. The sheer face sank down and down, into a dark, mist-shrouded distance. And below them – far, far below – was the curved edge of a glowing ball of molten rock.

  'Cor!' exclaimed the Doctor. His face was a picture of boyish excitement. His eyes were wide, his hair standing on end, as he practically danced along the cliff edge. 'I mean – core!'

  'It's... it's...' Cuttin' Edge was, finally, lost for words.

  'It's the edge of the world!' cried the Doctor. He was jumping up and down, barely able to contain his excitement. 'Look at it! The very edge! It's a sheer drop, right down to the core! Amazing! Fantastic! Brilliant! Have you ever seen anything like that in your life before? You haven't, have you? You haven't!' He bounced around among them, whooping and laughing. 'I haven't either! Never, ever before! Not like this! It's a new sight! A new sight!'

  Somehow, heat radiated from the distant knot of burning iron, rising up to carry flakes of snow from the edge of the cliff into the air. The snow danced faintly in the air, rising like pale, spectral flames.

  'I feel sick,' Scrum said.

  'It's just vertigo,' said the Doctor happily. 'Perfectly natural. It's quite a view, isn't it? Brilliant! Molto bene!' He roared the last two words into the night sky, feet planted wide, arms thrown up into the air.

  'Before you get too carried away,' warned Bowman, 'you might like to think about our position in purely strategic terms.'

  'He means this ain't no sightseein' trip,' said Cuttin' Edge, pointing behind them. A crowd of glowing mutants were dragging themselves up the rise, murmuring and growling.

  'Oh, them,' nodded the Doctor. 'No, I hadn't forgotten. I'm just multitasking.' He whipped out his sonic screwdriver, held it out over the cliff edge and clicked it on. The sonic bleeped faintly, slowly at first but then with sudden, thrilling urgency. 'Aha!' The Doctor's face broke into another huge grin. 'There it is! We've found it – the Arkheon Threshold. Remember that? The little tear in space-time – it's right near the heart of this planet... right in the dying core!'

  'Doctor,' Cuttin' Edge said. 'They're gettin' closer.'

  'Working on it, working on it...'

  Bowman turned to Cuttin' Edge with a frown. 'Since when did he become leader?'

  'Oh no.'

  The Doctor's voice cut through the air like a knife. He was staring over the cliff edge again, but with none of the giddy delight he had previously shown. He looked suddenly stiff and uncertain.

  'What is it?' asked Scrum. 'What's the matter?'

  'A thought has just occurred to me,' the Doctor said. His tone was bleak, almost angry. 'Why didn't I think of it before?'

  'What?'

  The Doctor pointed downwards, towards the exposed centre of the shattered world. 'The planetary core!' He suddenly snapped his hand upwards, smacking himself on the forehead. 'D'oh!'

  Koral frowned. 'I don't understand...'

  'I think things are about to get a lot worse,' the Doctor sighed.

  'Worse?' repeated Cuttin' Edge scornfully. 'We're trapped on the edge of the biggest cliff in the universe, facin' an army of zombie ghosts from hell. What could be worse?'

  The Doctor looked at him sadly, at all of them, and his expression was as cold and terrible as the planet they stood on. 'I'm sorry,' he said, his eyes full of anguish. 'I'm so sorry...'

  And then, behind him, rising up beyond the cliff edge, seemingly borne aloft on the flickering curtain of snow, they came: metallic bronze shapes, bristling with arms and weaponry which wavered and twitched like insect antennae.


  Eyestalks swivelled, fixing on the Doctor and his little party as they cowered on the edge of the cliff. Implacable, glowing blue eyes stared down at them.

  'HALT!' screeched the nearest Dalek, its dome lights flickering in triumph. 'DO NOT MOVE – OR YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!'

  There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. They just stood and stared helplessly as the Daleks floated towards them.

  'YOU ARE NOW PRISONERS OF THE DALEKS!'

  FIFTEEN

  The Daleks slowly descended until they were skimming the surface of the escarpment.

  The native mutants of Arkheon immediately scattered, turning and running for cover or slipping down boltholes, their thin rags snaking after them as they disappeared from sight. Within moments, there was no sign that they had ever existed – ghosts in every sense.

  'RESIST AND YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED,' grated the first Dalek. It glided over to where the Wayfarer crew stood huddled together. The eyestalk roved up and down, examining them contemptuously.

  'YOU ARE OUR PRISONERS,' the Dalek repeated loudly. 'YOU WILL OBEY THE DALEKS!'

  Bowman was gripping his blaster so hard his knuckles were bone-white. He was a fraction of a second from opening fire when the Doctor said, 'Leave it. Try anything stupid and you'll be exterminated on the spot.'

  'Then what do we do?' hissed Cuttin' Edge, his voice cracking with anger and fear. He, too, was a single jittery moment away from bringing his rifle to bear.

  The Doctor simply raised his hands. 'Surrender.'

  There was a tense moment, but neither Bowman nor Cuttin' Edge moved.

  The Dalek swivelled to address the Doctor. 'ARE YOU THE LEADER OF THIS GROUP?'

  'No, he isn't,' said Bowman. 'I am.'

  The Dalek's dome turned, the eye focusing on Bowman. His face reflected the blue glow like stone. 'DISCARD YOUR WEAPONS,' it ordered.

  Nobody moved.

  'IMMEDIATELY!' screeched the Dalek. 'OBEY!'

  'Do it,' said Bowman, after a pause.

  He let go of his blaster and it dropped to the ground at his feet. Cuttin' Edge threw down his rifle. Scrum dropped his handgun.