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Prisoner of the Daleks

Page 11

by Trevor Baxendale


  'I'm not carrying any weapons,' said the Doctor. 'And neither is this person.' He indicated Koral with a nod of his head.

  A Dalek moved forward, extending its sucker arm. It scanned the Doctor and Koral briefly. 'NO ENERGY OR PROJECTILE WEAPONS DETECTED.'

  'Told you,' said the Doctor quietly.

  'SILENCE!' barked the Dalek. It turned its head towards another pair of Daleks. 'DESTROY THE WEAPONS.'

  The Daleks glided forward, their gun-sticks swivelling to point at the blasters lying in the dirt. There was a bright flare and the discarded weaponry was melted into slag.

  Koral was trembling violently. The Doctor could sense that she was about to run or attack. And knowing Koral, he guessed it would probably be the latter. Either action would result in death.

  Bowman had sensed it too. He reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder. 'Easy.'

  Koral turned to look at him, her eyes blazing. Bowman simply nodded. He understood. 'You're the last of the Red Sky Lost,' he said gently. His voice sounded like the purr of a tiger. 'You've got to stay alive.'

  Scrum, also, was visibly shaking. But this was due to simple terror. He had one hand clamped over his mouth, as if trying to stop himself from being sick. Cuttin' Edge nudged him with his elbow. 'Dude. Chill out.'

  Scrum nodded but kept his hand on his mouth. His eyes were so wide they were almost circles.

  'WALK THIS WAY,' grated the lead Dalek, turning towards the cliff edge.

  'I couldn't walk that way if I tried,' muttered the Doctor under his breath. 'At least, not without castors...'

  The Dalek's dome swivelled right round, the eyestalk glaring at him.

  'Nothing,' the Doctor said, innocently.

  'WALK IN FRONT OF ME,' the Dalek said, gliding round to position itself behind the group. 'MOVE! DISOBEDIENCE WILL RESULT IN INSTANT EXTERMINATION.'

  'Come on,' said the Doctor, adopting as jaunty a tone as he could manage. He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and sauntered towards the cliff edge, whispering into Scrum's ear as he passed. 'Stick with me. I'll handle this.'

  Scrum looked uncertainly at him. 'Really?'

  The Doctor raised his eyebrows and pulled an of course! face. 'I've done this loads of times,' he said.

  So Scrum stuck with him, walking stiffly towards the cliff edge, the direction in which the Daleks were herding them. When they reached the precipice, they stopped. Bowman, Koral and Cuttin' Edge joined them. No one wanted to go too near to the abyss.

  'What they gonna do?' asked Cuttin' Edge. 'Throw us off?'

  But a heavy whine of machinery was already filling the air as a large, flat metal surface suddenly rose up adjacent to the cliff top. There were two Daleks on the platform, one of them positioned next to a small control podium. It made an adjustment with its sucker and the platform moved closer to the edge, hovering on antigravity thrusters.

  'A lift!' exclaimed the Doctor. 'That's handy. Come on, everybody, hop on.'

  He led the way, springing lightly onto the metal platform. It bobbed fractionally under his weight, like a raft floating on a pond. There was room for a dozen or so, but the other Daleks simply floated off the cliff top alongside the platform.

  'Looks like we were expected,' Bowman remarked.

  'Yeah,' nodded the Doctor. He took a deep breath. 'Gravity, atmosphere, the lot. They're giving us the VIP treatment.' He looked carefully at Bowman. 'Why d'you think that is?'

  Bowman shrugged but did not reply.

  The platform started to descend. Eventually they couldn't even see the top of the cliff, it just rose up like a vast, dark wall, blotting out half of space. The Doctor wandered over to the edge of the platform and peeked over. Below, the exposed centre of Arkheon broiled and spat like a cauldron of fire. 'Y'know,' he said conversationally to the Dalek at the controls, 'that really is an incredible view. Absolutely amazing. Pity you lot had to come and spoil it.'

  The Dalek said nothing. The platform continued to descend.

  'So, what's it all for, then?' the Doctor asked. 'Let me guess. You're gonna replace the molten core with a drive system, start flying the planet around the galaxy? See the sights?'

  'SILENCE!' grated the Dalek.

  'I'm only trying to make conversation,' the Doctor retorted, sounding hurt. He waited for a response but there was nothing.

  The platform cleared the upper edge of an enormous cavern. The solid wall of the planetary magma had suddenly given way to a vast hollow in the rock. Whether it was a natural chasm or deliberately excavated it was impossible to tell, but there was enough room for several spacecraft hangars. The platform veered into the cavern, moving slowly inside the planet itself. Below them was an immense, metallic web of criss-crossing walkways and landing areas. There were Daleks gliding along the walkways, across platforms, through corridors. On one level there were serried ranks of Daleks, all moving in unison, disappearing into a deeper, darker cavern.

  'Hell and damnation,' breathed Cuttin' Edge. He had never in his life seen so many Daleks in one place. 'Now we're really in the—'

  'Should have seen this coming,' interrupted the Doctor. There was no attempt at a casual demeanour now. 'I really should.'

  'What do you mean?' asked Scrum.

  'They've been here all the time,' the Doctor said. The expression on his face was dark, rueful. 'Look at this place! It must have taken years to build and develop a base like this. We thought the Daleks were searching for Arkheon. Turns out they found it ages ago and moved in.'

  'I think it's worse than that,' said Bowman.

  Cuttin' Edge let out a hiss of frustration. 'Will you guys stop sayin' that? "It's worse than that" and "It's worse than I thought"! Hell! How much worse is this gonna get?'

  'A lot,' said Bowman. 'I think I know what this place is. I heard rumours. The Daleks had a top-secret base where they took all their high-level prisoners for interrogation and experimentation.'

  'No way,' Cuttin' Edge spat out in disbelief. 'Interrogation? Experimentation? Are you serious?'

  'Daleks love prisoners,' the Doctor said. 'Gives them such a sense of power. They love nothing more than lording it over the inferior species. Humiliation, torment, slavery. That's their thing.'

  Cuttin' Edge shook his head. 'You ain't makin' it sound any better, dude.'

  The Doctor turned to Bowman. 'This top-secret interrogation base. Is there anything else you can remember about it?'

  'Why?' Bowman's tone was bleak. His face was retreating into its stone-like appearance as he prepared himself for what lay ahead.

  'Anything could be useful.'

  'Don't count on it. They used to call it "the Black Hole" – as in nothing ever came out again. No one – and I mean no one – ever escaped from this place. It's a one-way ticket.'

  'CEASE TALKING!' One of the Daleks moved towards them, gun and arm twitching eagerly. 'PRISONERS WILL BE SILENT.'

  No one spoke again as the platform continued its descent into the Dalek prison. Whenever they passed more Daleks, eyestalks would slowly turn, domes swivelling, observing. It was as if every Dalek that saw them was minutely examining them, glaring at them with a mixture of hatred and resentment and, perhaps, just a hint of curiosity. The prisoners huddled together, Koral moving closer to Bowman so that he could put a hand on her shoulder.

  Presently the platform lowered itself into a wide reception area. Daleks glided to and fro, watching them carefully. Two Daleks came forward to meet the platform.

  'STEP OFF THE LANDING PLATFORM,' grated the first.

  Slowly the prisoners filed onto the metal floor. The Dalek on the platform prodded Cuttin' Edge in the back with its sucker arm, pushing him forward so that he stumbled. 'MOVE! FASTER! OBEY THE DALEKS!'

  Cuttin' Edge glared back. 'Don't push me, you metal creep.'

  The Dalek floated forward, the bulbous blue eye fixed on the human. 'BE SILENT!'

  Cuttin' Edge stared back, his face reflecting the light. 'Don't wave that eyestalk in my face, creep. I can get good m
oney for that back home.'

  'BE SILENT OR YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!'

  'All right, cool it,' said Bowman. 'That's enough, Cuttin' Edge. Let's not rile them. It's too easy.'

  With a snort, Cuttin' Edge turned away. 'Whatever you say, skip.'

  The Dalek circled slowly around Cuttin' Edge, examining him from every angle. 'YOU WILL OBEY THE DALEKS. FROM NOW ON YOU WILL TAKE ORDERS ONLY FROM DALEKS. THIS HUMAN IS NO LONGER YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER.'

  'He never was my commanding officer,' shrugged Cuttin' Edge. 'He's just a guy I kinda like.'

  The Doctor, keeping very much to the background, watched the exchange carefully. He didn't know whether to wince or cheer out loud. But Cuttin' Edge was playing a dangerous game; the line between defiance and suicide was a very thin one when baiting Daleks.

  This particular Dalek had already reached screeching level. 'OBEY THE DALEKS! YOU WILL OBEY!'

  'Just remember,' Cuttin' Edge said coolly, 'that eyestalk's mine.'

  'BE SILENT!' The Dalek's sucker arm suddenly extended and grasped Cuttin' Edge's chest. The black cup gripped and squeezed and Cuttin' Edge howled. Then the Dalek released him and he fell to the floor, gasping for breath and rubbing his chest.

  Scrum helped him to his feet. 'You're going to get yourself killed!'

  'THE NEXT PERSON TO SPEAK WITHOUT PERMISSION WILL BE EXTERMINATED,' grated one of the other Daleks. 'NOW REMOVE YOUR OUTER GARMENTS.'

  Slowly the prisoners unfastened their heavy winter jackets and dropped them on the floor. Cuttin' Edge's bravado may have been inspirational, but he had very nearly paid for it with his life. The Doctor was trying to keep a low profile and merge in with the group, keeping his head down. But Koral had already seen enough. She was looking at him curiously, but the Doctor pretended not to notice and stared down at his canvas trainers.

  Two Daleks approached the group, sucker arms extended. 'PRISONERS WILL BE SCANNED AND CATEGORISED,' said one. 'STAND APART! MOVE!'

  The little group shuffled around until they were all separate and in a line. First to be scanned was Scrum. The suckers roved all over him, emitting strange electronic warbling noises. 'SPECIES – HUMAN.' The Dalek spoke the word as if it tasted foul. 'MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL FIVE POINT NINE. MARGINAL USE.'

  'Marginal?' echoed Scrum, affronted.

  The Daleks scanned Cuttin' Edge. 'SPECIES – HUMAN. MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL SEVEN POINT FIVE. SUITABLE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINE TO WORK FOR THE DALEKS.'

  The Daleks then moved on to Koral, who was standing next to Bowman.

  'SPECIES – UNKNOWN,' announced one of the Daleks. 'FEMALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL NINE POINT FOUR. SUITABLE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINE TO WORK FOR THE DALEKS.'

  Koral looked fearfully at Bowman. He reached out and squeezed her hand gently; and it was easy for Koral to see the relief in his eyes – relief that she hadn't been declared too dangerous and killed on the spot.

  The Daleks moved on, scanning Bowman next. He stood straight, shoulders back, chin up, almost as if he was back on the parade ground.

  'SPECIES – HUMAN. MALE. PHYSICAL CAPACITY – LEVEL SEVEN POINT SIX. WAIT!' Something had attracted the Dalek's attention. 'EXTEND YOUR ARM.'

  After a brief pause, Bowman thrust out his left arm.

  The Dalek's eye focused on the small white scar running down his forearm. 'EVIDENCE OF SUBCUTANEOUS TRANSMITTER REMOVAL!'

  Another Dalek moved forward, its blue eye zeroing in on the scar. 'X-RAY CONFIRMS TRANSMITTER HAS BEEN REMOVED.'

  'Transmitter?' Scrum whispered. 'What transmitter?'

  'Hell, I dunno, pal,' Cuttin' Edge whispered back. 'But Bowman don't look happy.'

  Bowman glared stonily at the Dalek and lowered his arm. 'Guess it's your lucky day,' he growled.

  'What's going on?' Scrum wanted to know. Like the others, he could sense something was up, and his curiosity – kindled by panic – was enough to make him forget the orders not to speak.

  But the Daleks were too preoccupied with Bowman to notice. 'STEP FORWARD! KNEEL!'

  'I'm not kneeling for you,' Bowman replied simply.

  The Dalek behind Bowman simply thrust out its sucker arm, aiming for the back of Bowman's left knee. His leg folded and Bowman hit the metal floor with a grunt.

  Koral started forward, clearly alarmed. But the Doctor reached out and took her arm, shaking his head fractionally. She looked at him in despair.

  'INITIATE BRAIN SCAN!' Two Daleks extended their suckers, closing them around Bowman's head. There was a shrill, piercing whine and Bowman gasped loudly, flecks of saliva jumping from his lips.

  'Leave him alone!' yelled Scrum, moving forward, but Cuttin' Edge grabbed him and pulled him back.

  The Doctor, too, had to grab hold of Koral again to prevent her from physically attacking the Daleks. 'Don't be stupid!' he hissed.

  The suction cups retracted and Bowman fell forward, onto his hands and knees. He was trembling violently, his head hanging low between his arms, fighting the urge to vomit. There were angry red weals on his face where the suckers had gripped him.

  The Daleks were screeching at each other with excitement. 'ALERT! INFORM COMMAND! PRISONER IDENTIFIED AS SPACE MAJOR JON BOWMAN!'

  'WE OBEY!' shrieked a pair of Daleks.

  'Space Major?' echoed Cuttin' Edge. He sounded shocked. 'Space Major?'

  'Since when?' Scrum asked.

  'Since the very beginning,' said the Doctor. 'Remember when Auros was destroyed? Bowman knew about the Osterhagen Principle. Only senior members of the Earth military would have access to that kind of information. No wonder the Daleks are so excited... it can't be often they catch someone as important as this.'

  'Important?' Cuttin' Edge frowned. 'He ain't important. Well, not that kinda important.'

  'The Daleks would appear to disagree.'

  At this point a new Dalek arrived – it had a similar bronze shell to all the others but they obviously deferred to it as chief, backing away slightly to allow it access to the prisoners. The Doctor surmised that this would be the Dalek designated as overall commander of the prison.

  'STAND!' ordered the Command Dalek, looming over Bowman. 'STAND IMMEDIATELY!'

  Koral helped Bowman to his feet. He was unsteady, uncharacteristically pale and listless. His eyes were cloudy and he looked confused. Koral turned and spat at the Command Dalek. 'Leave him alone! Do not touch him or I will rip out your guts!'

  'RELEASE THE PRISONER!' Already, the spittle was evaporating from the Dalek's head dome in a tiny, pathetic puff of steam. 'HE IS TO BE TAKEN FOR FULL BRAIN EXCORIATION.'

  'You will have to kill me first!' Koral roared. She lunged at the nearest Dalek, flicking out her claws and gouging bright sparks from its armour plate.

  But two Daleks fitted with claw manipulators had already moved in and seized her. They gripped her arms and practically lifted her off her feet, kicking and struggling.

  'YOU WILL OBEY THE DALEKS,' said the Command Dalek.

  'Why don't you just exterminate me!' Koral yelled.

  'IT IS NOT NECESSARY,' intoned the Dalek. 'YOU ARE REQUIRED FOR WORK IN THE MINES. BUT YOU HAVE DISOBEYED THE DALEKS. ONE OF YOUR PARTY WILL BE PUNISHED.'

  Bowman looked up groggily. 'No...' he croaked.

  The Dalek glided forward. 'THE WEAKEST MEMBER WILL DIE,' it said.

  Cuttin' Edge choked. 'No!' he bellowed, knowing exactly what this would mean.

  'DISABLE THIS HUMAN,' ordered the Command Dalek. One of the others lowered its gun-stick, aiming for Cuttin' Edge's legs, and fired. A bright blue flash lit the area and Cuttin' Edge collapsed to the floor. He then lay there, hands scrabbling at the metal, unable to get a grip. His legs were completely immobile.

  'I can't feel my legs!' he cried.

  'YOU HAVE SUFFERED TEMPORARY NEUROLOGICAL DAMAGE,' one of the Daleks informed him. 'MOBILITY WILL RETURN IN DUE COURSE.'

  Cuttin' Edge swore at the Dalek, completely unable to stand. Tears of pain and frustration ran hotly down his
cheeks.

  Scrum was watching all this, his face white with fear. He could hardly breathe. He knew exactly what was coming next, but his brain, normally so quick, had simply stopped thinking. He was completely unable to speak. His mouth dropped open wordlessly as two Daleks slowly turned to face him.

  'EXTERMINATE THIS HUMAN,' ordered the Command Dalek.

  The twin beams caught Scrum full in the chest, illuminating him with a deadly, coruscating charge. He screamed and flung his arms out wide, the bones darkly visible through the irradiated flesh. And then he fell to the floor, sprawled across the metal next to Cuttin' Edge.

  'No...' said Cuttin' Edge, almost silently. 'Please, no...'

  Then Scrum's face tipped slowly over, and Cuttin' Edge saw that his eyes were still open, but they were charred black and utterly dead.

  SIXTEEN

  Scrum's smoking corpse lay between the prisoners and the Daleks.

  All that could be heard in the minutes that followed was the dull, persistent throb of the Dalek machinery.

  'There was no need for that,' said the Doctor quietly. He didn't look up. He was staring down at the body, his fists clenched hard. 'He wouldn't have harmed anyone.'

  'HE WAS OF NO USE TO US,' replied the Command Dalek.

  Its voice grated on the Doctor's nerves, and he closed his eyes to shut out the sight.

  'You'll pay for this,' said Cuttin' Edge. He tried to sit up on the floor, teeth gritted as his legs filled with agonising pain. 'I'll make you pay.'

  One of the Daleks circled around Cuttin' Edge, eyestalk fixed on him. 'SILENCE. YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO THE MINES AND MADE TO SERVE THE DALEKS.'

  'No! Never! Kill me now, you metal b—'

  'Cuttin' Edge!' barked Bowman. 'Leave it. Just... stay alive as long as you can.'

  Cuttin' Edge looked up at him, his eyes wet with tears. There was a world of despair in those eyes, and they had turned to the only person who had ever believed in him, looking for hope, for reason, for anything. 'How?' he asked, eventually.

  'Kid,' said Bowman, 'Just do your best.'

  The Command Dalek approached Bowman. 'YOU WILL BE TAKEN FOR DEEP-LEVEL INTERROGATION. THE PROCESS INVOLVES BRAIN EXCORIATION AND SURGERY. YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE THIS PROCESS.'

 

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