'Lucky for us they're not very mobile,' said the Doctor. 'Maybe that's why Davros discarded them. Well—we've arrived.' He pointed to an opening in the cave wall—the other end of the ventilation duct.
Nervously Sarah said, 'Doctor, suppose there's something nasty waiting for us in there?'
'That's a thought,' the Doctor said cheerfully. 'Tell you what, we'll send Harry in first.'
Harry grinned, knowing full well that if the Doctor had suspected danger, he'd have gone in first himself. Harry crawled into the tunnel, then turned and helped Sarah to follow him. The Doctor took a last look round the cave and climbed after them. Harry in the lead, they began working their way down the narrow tunnel.
When Gharman reached the lower level, he found Nyder waiting for him. Without saying a word Nyder led the way through the detention area and into an empty cell.
In a low voice Gharman began, 'We'd better make this as quick as possible. We don't want to be missed.'
Nyder said, 'Tell me your plan.'
'Quite a number of scientists feel as we do. When we've collected enough support, we can give Davros an ultimatum."
'What kind of ultimatum do you suggest?' Gharman had worked it out in his mind. 'We shall only continue work on the Daleks if he restores conscience to the brain pattern. The creatures must have a moral sense, the ability to judge between right and wrong... all the qualities that we believe essential in ourselves."
Nyder nodded thoughtfully. 'And if he doesn't accept this ultimatum?'
'We will destroy all the work that has been done so far—everything! It will be as though the Daleks had never been created!'
"Excellent,' Nyder said crisply. 'I shall do my best to get some of the security corps on our side.' Casually he asked, 'Who can you count on among the scientists?'
Gharman considered. 'Kavell to begin with. Frenton, Parran, possibly Shonar...' He reeled off about a dozen names. 'All those have already been sounded out, and there are plenty of other likely ones we haven't spoken to as yet...'
'Thank you, Gharman. That is exactly what I needed to know.' Gharman stared at him. There had been a sudden change in Nyder's tone. Then Gharman heard an all-too-familiar whirring sound. Davros was coming through the cell door, a squad of security men behind him. 'Davros will be most interested in your information,' added Nyder coldly.
Gharman stared round wildly. He was trapped in the little cell. There was nowbere to run. In a sudden frenzy he launched himself at Nyder, who sidestepped neatly and dropped him with one short chopping blow. Gharman collapsed in front of Davros's chair. Davros looked down at the sprawled body. 'A pity. He had a good scientific mind.'
Nyder drew his blaster. 'Shall I kill him?' he asked mildly.
'No. A little brain surgery will remove these stupid scruples, and we shall still have the benefit of his inventive skills.'
Nyder holstered his blaster regretfully. 'And the people he named?'
'The same for them.'
"I'll arrange for the arrests.' 'Not yet. We must move carefully. First we must learn exactly who are our allies, and who our enemies.'
Nyder snapped his fingers and a couple of security guards dragged Gharman away. Nyder was about to follow when he saw that Davros: had not moved. 'What is it?'
'I heard something-in there.' Davros's withered hand gestured toward a tiny ventilation duct high in the cell wall. Nyder could hear nothing. But he knew that Davros's electronically boosted hearing was far better than his own. He put his ear close to the little grille. Was there something—a faint scuffling sound? 'I think there's someone in the ventilation system,' he whispered.
Harry pushed aside the already loosened hatchcover and slithered out. 'Everything's quiet, Doctor,' he called, looking along the little tunnel. He helped Sarah out, and then the Doctor jumped down. Harry was just about to replace the hatch cover when a dazzling spotlight illuminated the three of them. Behind it the Doctor could make out Davros, Nyder and a squad of black-uniformed security guards.
'Welcome back, Doctor,' said Davros.
The Doctor sighed, and turned to Sarah. 'There was something nasty waiting for us after all.'
The security squad marched the three captives to a room in the detention area. Various oddly shaped pieces of electronic equipment lined the walls. There was something indescribably sinister about the place. The Doctor guessed the room was a kind of electronic interrogation chamber. Its equipment was designed to loosen the tongues of those unwilling to speak, and to check the truth of their stories.
The guards worked swiftly and efficiently. The Doctor was strapped into a metal chair, heavy straps holding his wrists and ankles. A metal helmet was lowered over the top of his head. He assumed that the contraption was some kind of lie detector. What worried him far more was to see Sarah and Harry strapped to metal tables. These had clamps at each corner, holding the prisoners helpless. Electrodes were taped to their temples. Leads from the two tables were plugged into the control console on the arm of Davros's chair.
Their work finished, the security men stood back. Davros wheeled his chair directly in front of the Doctor. Nyder, as always, was at his master's shoulder. There was a recording machine on Davros's other side.
Davros was leafing through a sheaf of computer printouts. 'I have read the reports of your initial interrogation. The suggestion that you had traveled through Space and Time was rejected by the computer.'
The Doctor shrugged. 'Computers are limited. It had probably never been programmed for such a concept.'
'Such travel is beyond my scientific comprehension,' stated Davros. 'But not beyond my imagination. Why did you come here, from this future of yours?'
The Doctor saw no point in evasion. 'To stop the development of the Daleks. In what is to you the future, I have seen the carnage and destruction they will create.'
'So—my Daleks do survive?'
'As machines of war, weapons of hate.' The Doctor leaned forward, straining against his bonds in his urgency. 'There is still time to change that. You could make them a force for good in the Universe.'
'You have seen my Daleks in battle?' Davros demanded. 'Do they win? Do they always win?'
'They have been defeated many times—but never utterly. The Dalek menace always returns.'
'If they are the supreme war-machine, how can they lose?'
'Many reasons. Overwhelming opposition, poor information, simple misfortune ...'
'You must tell me, Doctor. Where do the Daleks fail? What mistakes do they make?'
The Doctor shook his head. 'No, Davros. That is something the future must keep secret."
Davros glided his wheelchair closer to the Doctor. 'You will tell me what I want to know because you have weaknesses. Ones that I have eliminated from myself, and from my Daleks. You are afflicted with a conscience, Doctor, and with compassion for others.'
The Doctor said nothing.
Davros went on remorselessly, 'Let me tell you what is going to happen, Doctor. You will answer all my questions, carefully and precisely. The instruments to which you are attached will instantly detect any attempt to lie.'
'And if I refuse to answer?'
'Your friends are attached to rather different instruments, Doctor.' Davros waved a hand toward Harry and Sarah. 'At the touch of a switch I can make them feel all the torments and agonies ever known.'
The Doctor's voice was hoarse with strain. 'If I tell you what you want to know, I betray the future. I can't do that.'
'You can and you will, Doctor,' said Davros gloatingly. 'You will tell me the reason for every Dalek defeat. With that knowledge I can program my Daleks so there will be no errors, and no defeats. We shall change the future.'
The Doctor looked from Davros to Harry and Sarah. It was the most agonizing decision he had ever faced. Davros was becoming impatient. 'Doctor! Either tell me about the Dalek future, or watch the suffering of your friends. Which is it to be?'
Slowly Davros moved his withered hand toward the switch...
The Doctor knew he was beaten—at least for the time being. 'All right, Davros, all right. just leave my friends alone.'
Davros kept his hand poised over the control. 'Then begin, Doctor.'
The Doctor paused, collecting his thoughts. In a flat, hopeless voice he began a catalogue of Dalek defeats, and the errors which had caused them. 'The Dalek invasion of Earth in the year Two Thousand was foiled because of an overambitious attempt to mine the core of the planet. The magnetic core of the planet was too strong, the human resistance too determined. On Mars the Daleks were finally defeated because of the virus which attacked the insulation cables of their electrical circuits. The Dalek war against the Venusian Colonies in the Space Year Seventeen Thousand was ended by the intervention of a rocket-fleet from the planet Hyperion...'
The Doctor's voice went on and on, every word recorded by the tape-recorder at Davros's elbow. Sarah and Harry listened in horror, relieved to have been spared the torments with which Davros had threatened them, realizing how much it must cost the Doctor to place such priceless information in the hands of his enemy.
The Doctor talked till he was hoarse, dredging every possible scrap of Dalek history from his memory. At last his head slumped on his chest and he mumbled, 'That's all—all I can remember for now.' At the same moment the tape-machine clicked to a halt, its recording spool exhausted.
Davros nodded slowly. 'This seems an opportune moment to end this particular session. We can always resume later, under the same conditions. Commander Nyder, take the Doctor's two friends to the detention cell.'
Security guards unstrapped Sarah and Harry, lifted them down from the tables and dragged them away. The Doctor too was unstrapped from his chair. He slumped back exhausted. As the guards came to fetch him, Davros waved them away. 'I must thank you, Doctor. All this information will be programmed into the Dalek memory banks.' Davros slipped the tape spool from the machine and handed it to Nyder. 'Commander, you will place this in the safe in my office. Its security is your personal responsibility. Remember, its value is beyond computation.' The Doctor's eyes followed the tape longingly as Nyder put it inside his tunic and left the room. He and Davros were alone now, though the Doctor guessed there would be more guards outside. He let himself slump deeper in the chair, doing his best to give the impression of utter defeat. But in his heart, or rather hearts, the Doctor was far from giving in. Characteristically, the Doctor wasted no time in regrets. He had given Davros the information he needed because there had been no alternative. He couldn't have allowed Sarah and Harry to suffer. What was done was done, the important thing now was to retrieve the situation.
With his enemy broken and defeated, Davros was in a relaxed, almost genial mood. 'Now, Doctor,' he said. 'Let us talk for a while, not as prisoner and captive, but as men of science. It is seldom that I meet someone whose intelligence even approaches my own...'
Sarah and Harry were marched along the corridor to a guarded cell and thrown inside. A tall, thin man in the uniform of one of Davros's scientific Elite was stretched out on the bunk. He jumped to his feet and helped them to pick themselves up. 'Are you all right?' he asked anxiously.
'Just about,' said Sarah.
The man looked at Harry more closely. 'Forgive me, but aren't you one of the prisoners who escaped?'
Harry nodded. 'That's right Who are you?'
'Until a little while ago I was a senior member of Davros's scientific Elite. My name is Gharman.'
'And now you're a prisoner like us?' asked Sarah. 'What happened?'
Gharman told them of his attempt to rally the opposition to Davros, and his mistake in trusting Nyder. 'What's happening up there? I suppose the whole place is in an uproar?'
'We didn't get a chance to see very much,' said Harry. 'But as far as I could tell, everything seems to be running smoothly.'
Gharman began pacing about the cell. 'Yet Davros knows we're planning action against him. I should have expected mass arrests, executions...'
'Maybe that's too obvious for Davros?' suggested Sarah.
Gharman looked at her hopefully. 'He's being too clever for his own good. Every moment he delays our movement grows instrength. A majority of the scientists now want to end the Daleks. If they act now, they could break Davros's strength.' Gharman pounded his fist against the wall in an agony of frustration. 'If only I could get in touch with them.'
In the corridor outside, the plump little communications scientist, Kavell, was walking toward the cell door. The guard covered him with his rifle. 'Halt!'
Kavell glared back indignantly. 'I wish to question the prisoners.'
'No one may see the prisoners without a pass signed by Davros.'
'I'm aware of that. I have one here somewhere...' Kavell moved closer to the guard, his fingers reaching for the truncheon concealed inside histunic...
Davros was still enjoying the spectacle of the Doctor's defeat. His prisoner's will seemed completely broken and he slumped dejectedly in his chair. 'I have committed the greatest act of treachery ever perpetrated,' groaned the Doctor. 'I have betrayed the unborn millions. Davros, I beg of you, stop the production of the Daleks.'
'Too late, Doctor. My automated workshops are already in full production of Dalek machines.'
'It isn't the machines that are evil, it's the minds of the creatures inside them. Minds that you created.'
'Evil?' said Davros thoughtfully. 'No, Doctor, I will not accept that. When all other life forms are suppressed, when the Daleks are the supreme power of the Universe, then we shall have peace. All wars will end. The Daleks are the power not of evil but of good!'
The discussion seemed to revive the Doctor a little. He leaned forward in his chair. 'Evil that good may come, eh? Tell me, Davros, if you had created a virus in your laboratory, one that could destroy all life—would you use it?'
Davros seemed fascinated by the concept. 'To know that life and death on an enormous scale was within my choice... that the pressure of my thumb breaking the glass of a capsule could end everything... such power would set me among the Gods... yes, I would do it! And through the Daleks I shall have such power!'
The Doctor abandoned any faint hope he might have had of reasoning with Davros. He knew he was looking upon the face of utter madness. In one swift movement he sprang from his chair and grasped Davros's single wrist. 'Release me,' croaked the metallic voice.
The Doctor ignored him. With his free hand he reached for the row of controls on Davros's chair arm. I imagine these switches control your life-support system. How long would you survive if I turned them off? Answer me, Davros!'
'Less than thirty seconds.'
The Doctor moved his hand closer to the switches. 'Order the complete close down of the Dalek incubator section.'
'Destroy the Daleks? Never!'
With one sweep of his hand, the Doctor flicked an entire row of switches into the "off" position. The body of Davros slumped forward, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. The Doctor waited a few seconds, then turned the switches on again. Eerily, Davros jerked back into life. When he was sure Davros could hear him the Doctor said, 'Next time I press those switches, they stay pressed. I mean it, Davros. Now—give the order!'
The lens in the center of Davros's forehead seemed to glare at the Doctor. 'Even if I obey, there will be no escape for you!'
'That isn't important.'
Davros realized the Doctor was sincere. Tonelessly he said, 'Press the communicator switch—the red one at the end.' The Doctor did so. Leaning forward to a built-in microphone, Davros said, 'Davros to Elite Unit Seven. All survival maintenance systems are to be closed down. The Dalek creatures are to be destroyed.'
'Tell them the order is final and cannot be countermanded,' said the Doctor urgently. Davros hesitated. 'Tell them!' The Doctor's hand hovered over the switches.
Reluctantly Davros began. 'This order cannot...' Intent on his battle of wills with Davros, the Doctor realized too late that someone had ente
red the room. Nyder's truncheon took him across the back of the neck and he pitched to the floor. Again Davros leaned forward, almost gabbling in his haste. 'This is Davros. My last order is canceled, repeat canceled. No action is to be taken.' He sat back with a sigh of relief.
Nyder prodded the Doctor's body with the toe of one polished jackboot. 'What shall I do with him? It would be safest to kill him now.'
'Not yet. He still has knowledge that is vital to our future success. I shall wrench every last detail of it from his mind—and then he dies! Now, what of our rebellious scientists? How are they progressing?'
'Feeling against you is rising fast. Many of the scientific Elite speak openly against you since the destruction of the city. Now some of the military are joining them.'
'It is as I expected.'
Nyder's face showed that he did not share his leader's calm. 'The rebels already outnumber those still loyal to you. Let me take a squad of Elite guards to deal with them. I could wipe out their leaders in an hour.'
'You think like a soldier, Nyder. Rebellion Is an idea. Suppress it too soon and it hides away and festers, bursting out elsewhere. My way is best.'
'As you wish.' Nyder hauled the semiconscious Doctor to his feet. 'I'll take this one to the detention cell myself.' He kicked the Doctor brutally with his boot. 'Come on, you—move!'Nyder heaved the half-dazed Doctor to his feet and shoved him from the room.
Davros leaned toward his microphone. 'All Dalek units. All Dalek units. This is Davros...'
The Daleks swept through the burning Thal City killing all before them. As a party of them shot down some fleeing Thals another Dalek glided into sight.
'Davros has commanded all Dalek units to disengage and return to the Bunker immediately.'
'We obey.'
The Daleks spun around and glided toward the city gates.
Doctor Who and the Genesis of the Daleks Page 8
