Doctor Who: The Dalek Generation

by Nicholas Briggs

  And it must have been a pretty bad thing that Terrin had in his head, thought the Doctor, for him to leave his children behind and commit suicide with his wife. Terrin had, the Doctor realised, hoped to jettison the children to safety and destroy the ship, with him on board; but when the self-destruct and escape pod hadn’t worked, he’d opted to sacrifice his life through the airlock, then hoping to leave his wife alive. But although Alyst may not have known this ‘formula’, she knew enough about it for that knowledge to prove too useful to the Daleks. So she had sacrificed herself too.

  There was one consolation in all this, thought the Doctor. At least the Daleks hadn’t managed to get hold of this knowledge. However, even though Terrin and Alyst had apparently come from a world that thought of the Daleks as people who helped others, Terrin had been sufficiently convinced of the terrible risk of letting even a supposedly benevolent race get hold of his secret that he had been prepared to die – and let the secret die with him.

  This secret, the Doctor pondered, whatever it was, must have been something truly terrifying. Terrifying enough for a mother and father to leave their cherished children to an uncertain fate … but a fate which at least offered them some hope of life.

  He knew also that this would be just the beginning of it all for the Daleks. If they had set their sights on getting hold of this secret formula, for whatever purpose, they weren’t going to give up easily. The Doctor knew that, inevitably, he had to try to stop them, no matter what the cost.

  When the planetary defence satellites of Carthedia picked up an unidentified craft, whose pilot apparently refused to make contact, initially the government gave an order to scramble an attack force of three orbital fighter craft. But as they approached, the pilot of the unidentified ship finally broke comms silence, explaining that the ship’s transmitter had been malfunctioning, ‘like most of the rest of the ship’, and that he had only just managed to fix it. He further explained that he was bringing three children home. Three children whose parents, Terrin and Alyst Blakely, had sadly died during an ‘attack’ on their spacecraft as they travelled to the planet Gethria.

  This piece of information sent shockwaves around the Carthedia holo-TV media. Three days previously, they had reported on the loss of this very ship. An unidentified freighter captain had given testimony to the effect that a ship chartered by Terrin and Alyst Blakely, to take them and their children to Gethria, had been found, drifting in space, the entire family dead, as a result of an engine malfunction.

  So, for those in front of the cameras of the breakfast news bulletin, when this ship entered Carthedia’s atmosphere and headed for the capital city’s central landing pad, it was like they were presenting a live broadcast of the return of a ghost ship.

  ‘Back from the dead,’ proclaimed the newsreaders as their main headline that day.

  When the ship finally touched down, the news media were out in force.

  In the control room of the ship, the Doctor was screaming. The ship was vibrating like it was the end of the world, every circuit seemed to be blowing and anything not welded to the spot was rattling, crashing and smashing to the deck.

  ‘Geeee​rrron​imooo​ooooo​oooo!’

  He locked the landing controls into their final sequence, with the retros firing at full blast, thundering like the raging, opening jaws of hell. There was nothing helpful he could do now to assist the landing, so he spun his chair round so that he could check all three children were still safely strapped into their chairs.

  They were. Thank goodness.

  It was so clear now, thought the Doctor, that Sabel was the most grown up, because she was aware enough to be terrified – but she was trying to hide it. Ollus was almost completely oblivious to what felt more like a slow motion crash than a landing. He was still managing to play with his tiny spaceship toy, seemingly irritated by the distraction the shaking ship was causing. Jenibeth had found another bag of jelly blobs and was far more interested in cramming the sweets into her mouth than any impending prospects of death.

  The Doctor gave them all a desperately optimistic thumbs-up signal. For a moment, Sabel managed the smallest of smiles. Then the ship crunched onto its landing struts … at least that’s what the Doctor hoped had caused the gigantic crashing noise, the automatic cut-off of the retros and the sudden, shocking silence.

  He froze for a moment, checking for that awful feeling of free fall that might have signalled that the landing rockets had cut off too early, leaving them plunging to certain destruction. But no, he was sure they had landed. All was still.

  The Doctor allowed himself a long, outward breath, realising in the process just how much of a breath he’d been holding in … and for how long.

  There were only a few creaks of the hull settling now, and the odd spark of control panels and systems that would, hopefully, never see service again.

  ‘We’ve arrived,’ the Doctor managed to murmur through his dry throat. Then he gave the children his biggest smile, putting his thumbs up again.

  Allowing the Doctor only the smallest nod of acknowledgement, Sabel quietly released her safety buckles and jumped down from her chair. She trotted straight across to Ollus and Jenibeth, unlocking their buckles for them and taking them by the hand.

  The Doctor looked on as they formed their familiar little formation, with Ollus in the middle, this time trying to pull away to play with his spaceship.

  ‘Put it away for now, Ollus,’ hissed Sabel.

  The Doctor wondered what kind of homecoming this was really going to be for the children. Who would look after them now? Releasing his buckles and standing, he suddenly became aware of an unexpected noise. He cocked an ear. The children had heard it too.

  There was a low rumbling sound. Almost like a muted, constant roar. No … not quite constant … It wavered up and down a little.

  ‘OK, anyone know what that is?’ asked the Doctor. ‘I mean, is it normal for your planet?’

  The children had no answers.

  The Doctor ran to the main airlock door. For a moment, he felt a little strange about the prospect of passing through this exit. This, after all, had been where Terrin and Alyst had ended their lives. But he pressed on.

  Tapping a few keys, he was able to read the atmosphere outside. Nothing odd about it. It could easily sustain human life. Then, before he could do anything more, the opening mechanisms of the door started to crash and moan into place. All at once, the outer door began yawning open of its own accord.

  Someone was opening it from the outside, overriding the internal controls. Instinctively, the Doctor stepped back, putting out his hands to protect the children, who were caught in squinting awe as the inner door unsealed, giving way to a penetrating shaft of …

  Fresh daylight streamed in. Fresh, bright, fragrant daylight. For a moment, it seemed so joyously powerful that it might take their breath away. Even the Doctor, so used to so many different environments, was moved to shield his eyes and put a steadying hand upon his own chest. The children stumbled backwards. Ollus was literally open-mouthed in shock. Jenibeth started to cry without restraint, this physical catalyst seeming to release all her grief in one go. Sabel suddenly lost all self-control and threw herself at the Doctor’s leg, hiding her face behind the pocket of his tweed jacket.

  ‘It’s going to be all right, it’s going to be all right!’ he shouted, trying to sound as reassuring as possible over the terrible din.

  Finally, the open doors of the airlock clunked into place. Through the still dazzling brightness, the Doctor could make out the sound of heavy footsteps padding towards them, accompanied by the tight jangle of what was surely military equipment. Bobbing shadows of combat troops in helmets, brandishing formidable energy weapons, played over them.

  Ollus and Jenibeth instantly ran to join their sister, clasping onto the Doctor. Ollus, clawing frantically, suddenly as determined as a scared kitten escaping up a curtain, scaled the Doctor’s coat and put his hands around the Time Lord’s neck. J
enibeth was close behind, settling on the Doctor at chest level.

  The Doctor suddenly found himself in the role of some kind of pack horse, detailed to child-carrying duties, as the military squad encircled him, pointing their guns, scanning relentlessly for any sign of a hostile move.

  ‘We’re unarmed!’ shouted the Doctor. ‘No need to panic! These are children, not offensive weapons.’

  A few moments later, the military team, without a word and with no expressions visible behind their assault masks, were escorting the Doctor and his surrogate family across a precarious-looking gantry. It was now that it became clear what the strange, rumbling noise had been, distorted as it was through the metal layers of the ship’s hull.

  Several hundred feet below them, basking in a vibrant, glowing Carthedian sunset, was a vast crowd of people, numbering around ten thousand, the Doctor guessed. They stared up, waving flags and banners enthusiastically, roaring delightedly as every single one of them seemed to catch sight of the Doctor and the children at once.

  The Doctor wondered what all this fuss was about; but he, Ollus, Jenibeth and Sabel were not allowed to dawdle and take in the sheer spectacle of their welcome. The soldiers pushed them on across the gantry and into a vast building in front of them. The Doctor suspected this might be some kind of ‘border control’ area.

  As they cleared the entrance port, an iris-like door sealed behind them and, for a moment, it appeared as though they were in complete darkness. Blinking frantically, the Doctor realised they were in fact illuminated by a pale, greenish light. Suddenly, the soldiers plucked the children away from the Doctor. He tried to protest.

  ‘Now, wait a minute! There’s no need to be so—’

  But he found himself brutally pushed back as the children were pulled away. Jenibeth cried loudly again, sobbing bitterly, her eyes darting around in confusion. The Doctor tried to catch her gaze, hoped he did, and mouthed ‘It’s all right’ to her. It had no outward effect. Ollus and Sabel had fallen into a kind of numb, terrified silence. Along with the Doctor, they were all deposited into well-worn, padded chairs, spaced at equal intervals across this large, dark chamber. The chairs instantly locked them all into seated positions by way of mechanical grips, presumably activated remotely.

  ‘It’s all right, don’t struggle,’ said the Doctor, as the soldiers retreated into the darkness.

  Within seconds, the Doctor found himself blinded again, this time by a pulsing, tingling light accompanied by a deep, electronic throbbing noise, almost like a heartbeat. As this sensory onslaught continued, he managed to pick out the shapes of the seated children next to him. They were undergoing the same process.

  Decontamination, he thought. He wanted to say it aloud to reassure the children, but the sound was so loud, and there was something in this strange, pulsing beam that was stopping the muscles in his face from working.

  Just when it seemed as though there would be no end to this browbeating, everything went silent. He realised he was exhausted, overheated, as if he had been running for his life. His eyelids weighing down over his eyes, he managed another glance at the children. They were now unconscious.

  Then, a blast of freezing air shot out at them from all sides and above, billowing like frosty steam. Just as he began to shiver, the already dim light dialled down to total darkness and time seemed suspended.

  *

  With a gasp, the Doctor was awake again. Blazing lights again. This is getting tiresome, he thought. Bright, dark, hot, cold … what next?

  ‘Are you aware that at 08.54 Carthedian standard time yesterday, a report was received from Captain J. L. Gafeska of the cargo ship Axious that the occupants of charter ship KS55NZ/4 were found dead aboard said charter ship?’

  Ah, questions. They always came next. The voice was hard, efficient, trained to be emotionless, but it was definitely human. As the glare of the lights faded a little, the Doctor realised he was sitting opposite a uniformed woman, seated at a desk, tapping a small tablet-style computer. She glanced up at him, clearly impatient for an answer.

  ‘I’ve got a question for you,’ said the Doctor, not really able to manage a smile. ‘Where are Sabel, Ollus and Jenibeth?’

  ‘Answer the question, please,’ said the woman, with an empty, insincere politeness.

  ‘No,’ said the Doctor.

  ‘No, you won’t answer the question?’ she asked.

  ‘No as in “no” is the answer to your question. Anyway, it’s a stupid question, because obviously the children are alive. Whoever this Captain Gafeska is, he obviously didn’t check very thoroughly, did he? Now, where are the children?’

  The woman clearly had no intention of answering the Doctor’s questions. For a moment, he thought he saw a trace of amusement twitch at her mouth, as if the very notion of her answering someone else’s questions was ludicrous. She glanced back at her computer tablet and drew breath.

  ‘Oh, next question,’ interrupted the Doctor. The woman looked faintly annoyed. ‘I wonder what that might be, hmm? How did I get aboard the ship? What’s that funny blue crate thing? Who am I? Where do I come from? How come we don’t have any records of you in our database? Am I getting close?’

  The woman let her computer tablet fall to the desk with a clatter. She looked the Doctor straight in the eyes. The Doctor nodded. He knew this was a ‘Look, I’m just doing my job’ moment, and he was clearly not making it easy for her. She raised her eyebrows, almost, he thought, as if she were reading his mind.

  ‘All right, all right,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll try to be a bit more helpful. My name’s the Doctor. The blue crate is my ship and yes, I know that’s odd. I come from a long way away. I was just passing and picked up a distress call. I didn’t get there in time, but the ship had been attacked by Daleks—’

  ‘By Daleks?’ the woman seemed genuinely shocked.

  ‘Oh yes, of course,’ said the Doctor. ‘You think the Daleks are nice. Sabel told me. Well, you couldn’t be more—’

  ‘Nice?’ interrupted the woman. ‘The Dalek Foundation is responsible for—’

  ‘The Sunlight Worlds, whatever they are, yeah, I know, Sabel told me that too. She’s a bright kid. In fact, they’re all bright kids. Very bright. What have you done to them? Are they all right?’

  ‘They …’ the woman stopped, realising, thought the Doctor, that she had been tricked into answering someone else’s question. She sighed. ‘They’re fine,’ she said, smiling genuinely.

  ‘Fine? I doubt that,’ said the Doctor. ‘They’ve just lost their parents.’

  ‘Yes. Do you know how?’

  ‘Haven’t you looked at the flight log?’ asked the Doctor.

  The woman slowly shook her head. ‘The datastore was blank.’

  ‘Not when I saw it, it wasn’t,’ said the Doctor. ‘Are you sure?’

  The woman consulted her tablet. She shook her head again, then returned her gaze to the Doctor, leaning towards him a fraction. ‘You’re saying you saw something on the flight log?’

  ‘Terrin and Alyst Blakely walked straight out of the airlock of that ship and killed themselves,’ he said, bluntly.

  ‘You actually saw that?’ she asked.

  The Doctor suddenly had an uncomfortable feeling that he knew where all this was going to end up. ‘No,’ he said. ‘But I heard it and the flight log had a record of the airlock having been operated.’

  ‘But—’ the woman started.

  ‘The datastore of the flight log is blank,’ finished the Doctor. ‘Yeah. So you probably think I’m lying. What do you think, then? I killed Terrin and Alyst and then … what? Brought their children home? I can’t see that that makes much sense.’

  The woman stared at him for a long time. The Doctor could see she really did want to know the truth. Then she looked down at her tablet again. She was checking something.

  ‘What’s your name?’ asked the Doctor.

  Without looking up, she said, ‘I’m not allowed to tell you my name.’

  ‘No
t very friendly,’ said the Doctor, giving her his best boyish, charming smile. She did not look up to see it.

  ‘I’m not your friend,’ she said. His smile faded. And then she looked at him again.

  He could see the very beginnings of a smile in her eyes, that twitch at the side of her mouth again; but once again, she suppressed it.

  ‘What about my blue crate?’ he asked.

  ‘You can go now,’ she said, simply.

  Unceremoniously marched down a brightly lit corridor by another soldier in full face mask, the Doctor soon found himself reunited with the children. They were sitting on some rather battered-looking comfy chairs in a sort of waiting area. When the Doctor entered, they looked round in anticipation. It struck him that perhaps Ollus and Jenibeth were hoping against hope that, somehow, their parents had returned. For a split second, they looked as if they were about to launch themselves towards him in delight, but then they deflated, their eyes taking on a rather dull, haunted look.

  Sabel just stared at the Doctor. He felt as if she was looking right into his thoughts; but then he realised that what he was thinking must have been fairly obvious from his expression. What in the world was he going to do with these children? Why was he being reunited with them anyway?

  ‘We told them the truth,’ Sabel said, simply.

  The Doctor shrugged, trying to be cheerful. ‘Always the best policy! So, how are we all, then?’

  They didn’t answer. It was, the Doctor realised, a bit of a stupid question.

  ‘They thought you might have killed our parents,’ continued Sabel. ‘But we told them it was the Daleks.’

  ‘And they didn’t believe us, they didn’t,’ said Ollus.

  ‘No,’ said the Doctor. ‘No, they didn’t believe me either … Not enough evidence to prove anything. But we’ve got to find a way to make them believe us.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Jenibeth. ‘What’s the point?’

  ‘Because … Well, because the Daleks are always up to no good,’ said the Doctor. ‘So these people here need to be warned, especially if they think the Daleks are …’ he screwed his face up, ‘… nice.’