The door slid open, and the two Daleks emerged cautiously into the corridor. 'Proceed with all caution,' commanded the first Dalek. 'This territory will be classified as hostile.'
'Understood.'
The Daleks moved slowly on, coming at last to the broad hall with its pattern of chequered tiles. Since Daleks take no interest in the finer points of interior decoration, they failed to see anything unusual in the red and white chequered pattern on the floor of the hall. The first Dalek glided straight on to it—and was hurled back with a fierce crackle of sparks.
The second Dalek reacted instantly, firing a series of sweeping bursts that riddled the chessboard pattern with bullets, exploding most of the deadly electrical circuits beneath it. The Dalek sped across the smoking floor in a determined rush, and came to a halt at the other side. It turned and scanned its wounded colleague. It was weaving dazedly to and fro, smoke pouring from the bottom of its casing. 'Damage report,' ordered the second Dalek.
'Non-conductive shielding partially burnt-out. Sensors record massive electrical charge. No serious damage—am able to proceed.' The wounded Dalek crossed the exploded floor to join its fellow. With a note of satisfaction it reported, 'Weapon designed to destroy humanoid tissue. Ineffective against superior Dalek shielding. We will continue.'
The recovered Dalek glided on, but the first Dalek ordered, 'Wait. Observe. We must gather scientific data.' The bullet-riddled floor was repairing itself before their very eye-stalks, the damaged tiles regenerating themselves into their former pattern of red and white. The Daleks observed the spectacle unimpressed. 'Note that City has self-regeneration faculties,' ordered the first Dalek. 'Proceed.'
The Daleks moved remorselessly on.
The Doctor and Bellal found that the corridor they were following ended in a blank wall—but as they approached the wall, a door slid back to admit them to a bare white-walled room much like the one by which they had entered the City—though this one at least had no skeletons littering the floor.
Bellal gazed round despairingly. 'We make no progress, Doctor.'
'Don't be too sure. Moving through this City is like being inside a living thing—in its bloodstream, rather than its stomach, I hope! We're being passed along like invading microbes. But all the time we're moving nearer the heart.'
As darkness began to fall, and the eerie fog seemed to rise out of the ground, Sarah decided it was time to make a move. She slid out of the little hollow she had dug for herself in the sand, and peered cautiously over the top of the dune.
Work on the diggings had stopped as darkness came down, and now the black-robed Exxilon slave-workers were huddled round a low fire. A little way from the fire, Sarah could see Jill Tarrant, leaning back wearily against the lower slopes of a dune. She seemed to be dozing. There was no sign of Galloway or Hamilton.
A single Dalek sentry was patrolling the site of the diggings, gliding around the perimeter of the area on a regular circuit.
It was this sentry which had been delaying Sarah's mission. There was no chance of contacting the Earth expedition in daylight, without being spotted, so Sarah had made herself a hiding place in the sand and caught up with her sleep. Now it was time to move.
She slid quietly down the side of the dune, freezing whenever the Dalek sentry came in sight. A final dash brought her close to the dozing girl. 'Jill,' she whispered. 'Psst! Jill! Can you hear me?'
Jill Tarrant's head jerked up. 'Sarah? Where are you?'
'Just behind you. Keep your voice down, and don't look at me when you talk.'
Flat on her stomach, Sarah wriggled closer to Jill, using the girl's body to shield her from the Dalek.
'What happened to you?' whispered Jill. 'Where's the Doctor?'
'He's gone to the City. He's going to try and switch off that beacon. He thinks it's causing the power-block. Where are the others?'
'No idea. The Daleks kept them behind and sent me off here.'
'The Doctor sent me here with a message for you all —but if the others aren't here...'
'We shall have to manage without them,' said Jill determinedly. 'What does he want us to do?'
'Somehow you've got to get the Parrinium into your ship, and be ready for take-off when the power comes back on. How much Parrinium have you found?'
Jill gestured to a pile of filled sacks. 'More than enough. The concentration here is incredibly high. When it's processed back on Earth that ore will yield enough Parrinium to end the space plague for good.'
'Somehow we've got to find a way of getting it on to your ship,' said Sarah thoughtfully.
'With a Dalek standing guard?'
'I know... but we've still got to try. Just let me think for a moment.'
Sarah lay still, looking at her watch, and studying the movements of the patrolling Dalek. It was carrying out its patrol in the systematic manner so typical of the Dalek mentality, covering the same route at the same speed on every circuit.
Sarah made a final calculation and said, 'Right, that's it!'
'What is?'
'I've been timing that sentry. It takes about twenty minutes to do the full circuit—and for over half the time it's out of sight behind the dunes.'
'So?'
'Well, if we can't see it, it can't see us. We've got ten minutes in every twenty to work unseen. Now then, have you got any empty sacks?'
Jill nodded. 'There's a huge pile just over there. We're supposed to go on mining tomorrow. Why?'
'As soon as the Dalek's out of sight you sneak over and get them. Wait till I give the word.' Sarah paused, watching the Dalek. 'Right—now !'
The Dalek disappeared behind the dune, and Jill sprinted for the sacks. She returned with a pile of them in a matter of minutes and by the time the Dalek reappeared she was leaning innocently against the dune again.
'Right,' whispered Sarah. 'Now, as soon as the Dalek's out of sight, we start filling these empty sacks with sand. We want a pile as big as the pile of Parrinium sacks.'
'But we can only work half the time,' protested Jill. 'It'll take all night.'
'Then we'd better get on with it, hadn't we?' Sarah began scooping sand into one of the empty sacks with her hands.
12
The Nightmare
The Doctor abandoned his search of the room in some disgust. 'Nothing! Not a single clue. And yet every part of our route through this City has been carefully planned. This room must be here for a purpose.'
'Perhaps we have come as far as we are permitted?' suggested Bellal. 'Ought we to turn back?'
'No, it would be fatal to give up—literally so, I imagine. We'll just have to start again.'
Patiently the Doctor took up the search, running his hand over every inch of walls and floor that he could reach, trying to discover some clue to the next test. Dispiritedly Bellal did the same, though he didn't really expect to succeed where the Doctor had failed.
Yet in a way it was Bellal who found the solution. He ran his hands over a section of wall already checked once by the Doctor. This time the wall did respond. A tiny point of light appeared on its surface. Bellal was about to call the Doctor when the light began pulsing in a regular rhythm. Bellal found he could neither speak nor take his eyes from it.
The Doctor finished examining a section of wall for the third time. He shook his head. 'I've got a funny feeling that somehow I'm missing the point of all this...'
Bellal didn't answer. The Doctor turned and saw that the little Exxilon was creeping towards him, arms out-stretched like a sleepwalker, hands curved into talons. Before the Doctor could react, Bellal launched himself across the room and seized him by the throat. The Doctor grabbed the Exxilon's wrists and tried to pull them away. But Bellal was filled with unnatural strength, and the Doctor realised that he was fighting the City itself. He stared deep into Bellal's glowing eyes and shouted, 'Bellal, don't! Remember where we are, and why we came here. Think! We're in the City, Bellal. I am your friend. Your friend!'
Slowly the mad glare faded from Bel
lal's eyes. 'What... what happened?' he sobbed.
The Doctor patted him on the back. 'All right, old chap, it's all over now. What's the last thing you remember?'
'There was this light... it kept flashing...'
'Testing our ability to deal with mind control, I imagine—and look, we seem to have passed the test!'
A door was opening in the wall ahead of them. The Doctor looked down at Bellal. 'Do you feel ready to go on?'
'No...' said Bellal wearily. 'But I know that we must.' They passed through the door, and it closed behind them.
A few minutes later the Daleks entered the empty room.
Although it was dark now, the periodic flashes from the beacon lit up the area with unnatural clarity. Hamilton and Galloway stood gazing up at the impressive height of the tower. Built against the outer wall of the City, the tower was constructed rather like a child's pile of bricks. An immense slab of stone formed the base, on top stood a slightly smaller slab, on top of that another still smaller slab, and so on until the topmost cube of stone which housed the beacon itself. Because of this construction the tower narrowed as it rose, and each of the four sides formed an immense flight of steps.
Galloway turned to their Dalek guard. 'We're supposed to go up there?'
'The climb is well within human capability. When you reach the summit you will place explosive charges beneath the beacon.'
Hamilton looked up at the great flashing light that hung in the sky so far above them. Were they really supposed to destroy it with these four little metal cylinders? 'Suppose we refuse to make the climb?'
'The girl will be exterminated. You will obey.'
Hamilton looked at Dan Galloway, who nodded abruptly. They moved over to the base of the tower. 'You will be in range of my fire at all times,' warned the Dalek. 'Bomb-timing devices are already set. You will activate them and descend the tower. Do this and your lives will be spared.'
'Let's get on with it,' said Galloway wearily. He put down the two bomb cylinders, and Hamilton did the same. By standing on tiptoe, Hamilton could just reach the edge of the bottom step. 'You'll have to give me a leg up, Dan.'
Galloway crouched down until Hamilton could get a foot on his shoulder, then slowly straightened up, hoisting him on to the first ledge. Once Hamilton was up there, Galloway passed him the four bombs, one by one. When they were safely on the ledge, Hamilton reached down and heaved Galloway up beside him. 'There you are then,' he said grimly. 'We do that a few hundred times and we'll be at the top!'
Watched by the patrolling Dalek, they began the ascent of the next ledge.
The smooth white corridors stretched on and on. Bellal looked up at the Doctor, who was walking calmly ahead, apparently untired, and unafraid. Bellal, who was both, said hopefully, 'We've come quite a long way without any tests, Doctor.'
'I think we must be getting close to the centre of the City.'
'Perhaps we are safe now?'
'I wouldn't count on it. Has it occurred to you to wonder why the City is testing us like this?'
'What do you mean?'
'The City could have destroyed us a hundred times by now. Instead it's given us an opportunity to survive, by continually proving our intelligence.'
'That is so,' agreed Bellal. 'But what is its purpose in doing this ?'
'Perhaps by passing the tests we show we have an intelligence-level that could be useful. We might have knowledge that it can add to its data-banks for instance.'
'And afterwards?'
'The one thing that menaces the City is the development of any outside intelligence on the planet. I believe it lures any intelligent beings inside with its tests—and once it has taken their knowledge, it destroys them.'
'Then I was right after all. We have entered a trap.'
'Perhaps so. But remember, traps can be made to open as well as close.'
Suddenly they came to a dead-end.
The lights in the corridor began to pulse. Strange whirling colours began flashing before their eyes, and the air was filled with discordant electronic noises.
'What is it, Doctor?' cried Bellal. 'What's happening?'
'I think it's the ultimate test—an assault on our sanity ! Resist it, Bellal. Try to block it from your mind.'
Reality began to blur and shimmer round them as walls and floor began spinning into twisted, writhing multi-coloured shapes. Electronic shrieks howled through their brains, making thought impossible. Bellal dropped to the floor. Arms wrapped round his head and knees drawn up to his chin, he rolled himself into a tight ball, trying vainly to shut out the lights and the sounds.
The Doctor however forced himself to stare unblinkingly into the screaming vortex of madness. 'You are an illusion,' he shouted. 'You have no substance, no truth. You do not exist. You do not exist!'
There was utter silence. The swirling lights disappeared, the sounds cut off, walls and floor returned to solid reality. The Doctor helped Bellal to get up. 'It's all right,' he said gently. 'It's over now.'
Bellal's eyes were staring over the Doctor's shoulder. 'Look, Doctor,' he breathed.
The Doctor turned. A door slid back in the wall before them, revealing an enormous control room. It was lined with complex instrument panels and dominated by one central console. There was a chair before this console and in it a white-robed figure. It sat motionless, regarding them, eyes bright in the mummified face beneath the hood.
'The last survivor,' whispered the Doctor. 'Perhaps the City kept him here to serve it.' He took a step nearer and the wizened figure shimmered, blurred, and dissolved into a pile of dust. Bellal jumped back with a cry of horror.
'Our fault, I'm afraid,' said the Doctor. 'Our entry set up an air current—and that was enough to break the surface tension that held him together.'
The door closed behind them, blocking their escape. Bellal looked at the banks of complex instruments. 'Is this the heart of the City?'
'The heart, the brain, and the nervous system. This is what we have to destroy.'
Bellal lowered his voice in awe. 'For thousands of years the City has defied all attempts to harm it. Can we really end its power?'
The Doctor too was looking round. 'I think there is a way. But to destroy it, I must first know more about it.' He began moving about the room, studying the complex instrument panels, whirling dials and luminous gauges with absorbed attention.
Bellal looked on, feeling as usual a little lost. He knew he could never hope to understand the complex science of his ancestors. He wandered over to the far side of the wall, where a number of translucent screens were set into the wall. As he stared at them, they slowly became transparent. They seemed like windows to another room adjoining the one they were in, an immense shadowy room filled with swirling mists.
Bellal stared into the mist in fascination. As he watched, strange, monstrous shapes started forming behind the screens...
13
The Antibodies
Bellal sprang back in alarm. 'Doctor, come quickly.;
The Doctor came over to him, and they both stood staring in fascination. The giant shapes were larger now, more distinct, and they were beginning to take on a vaguely humanoid form. 'I'm afraid we have less time than I thought,' said the Doctor gravely.
'What is it, Doctor? What's happening?'
'The City is creating these creatures to protect itself—like antibodies. I think it has decided we're a danger to it, so it's devising means to neutralise us.' He turned away, reaching for his sonic screwdriver. 'Keep an eye on them for me, Bellal. Warn me when they seem to be—complete.' Hurrying to the central computer terminal, the Doctor began dismantling the control panel.
Ignoring the pain in his aching muscles, Peter Hamilton dragged himself on to the topmost ledge of the beacon tower. Gasping for breath he reached down and took the bombs Galloway passed up to him, stowing them well away from the edge. Then with one final heave, he helped Galloway to scramble on to the ledge beside him. For a moment the two men lay there gasping, reco
vering from the tremendous effort of the climb. It had been a nightmarish business, all the worse because it had been so repetitive. They had repeated the same set of actions over and over again, working themselves, and the bombs, up the endless ledges.
Now, at last, they had reached the top. Every few seconds the glare of the flashing beacon lit up the area for miles around. They could see the sprawling white buildings and towers of the City, and the bare rocky plain all around. Far below was the tiny figure of the watchful Dalek, waiting for them to complete their mission and come down.
Hamilton looked up. The beacon itself was set upon a kind of metallic framework rather like a miniature Eiffel Tower, which rose out of the block on which they were standing. 'Four supporting legs, four bombs,' said Hamilton. 'Come on, let's fix a bomb on each one and then get down.'
He fished the magnetic tape from his pocket and used it to lash the bomb to the first support. He raised the detonating section, flicked it into activity and thrust home the activating plunger. Working his way round the ledge he fixed the second bomb and the third. He waited for Galloway to pass him the fourth and last bomb, but Galloway shook his head. 'No. Not this one.'
'Look, that Dalek is watching every move we make.'
Determinedly Galloway tucked the last little cylinder inside his tunic. 'It can't make out details at this range. 'Three charges will bring down the beacon just as well as four. This is the only weapon we've got, and we're taking it back with us. Now come on. Those bombs are ticking, remember.' Galloway dropped down on to the ledge below, and Hamilton followed him. At least it would be easier going down.
He wondered what Galloway planned to do with the bomb...
Night on Exxilon is short, and the first signs of dawn were appearing in the sky, as the Dalek came round the dune on its final circuit. The Exxilon slave-workers were already shuffling towards the diggings, and the Dalek glided up to the Earth girl, who lay sleeping beneath her blanket.
DOCTOR WHO - DEATH TO THE DALEKS Page 8
