Doctor Who_ Dark Progeny Part 24

'Sir. Permission to allow entry to the hold?'

'Don't be stupid. You know what I said. Who the h.e.l.l wants to get in?'

A second head appeared beside the first, watching her with evident impatience.

'Mr Tyran,' she said. 'I'm sorry I didn't realise. . . '

'Glad to see you're taking security so seriously,' Tyran told her dryly, and she was unsure whether he was being complimentary or caustic.

'Let them in,' she told the guard, feeling the tension building inside her.

'Yes, sir.'

'Thank you,' Tyran smiled, and both heads vanished together.

Switching to the sec cams, Peron watched them enter the hold. The picture was a mess, full of noisy sibilant static as it had been before, but above it all she could hear the clanging of the doors. There was a tall blond man accompanying Tyran, a man she didn't recognise, and the two of them were talking too quietly for her to hear the detail of their conversation. They entered one of the cells and Peron switched to observe them. Tyran looked like he was explaining something, pointing at the creature and swinging his arms around. Then she saw he had something in his hand. A stubby black instrument of some kind.

162.Maybe a short truncheon. Both he and the blond man seemed to be considering its use on the creature.

The door com buzzed and she cancelled the sec image to discover Captain Foley waiting outside.

Colonel Peron appeared very edgy. Her eyes were wild and staring, and the woman was momentarily lost for words.

'I brought Pryce's databooks,' Foley said.

'Ah. Yes. Thank you, Captain. Put them over there, would you? Any news from forensics?'

'Nothing yet. They got some suspects, but it'll take a while to get anything conclusive.'

'Suspects?'

Foley handed the datadisc over.

'They gave me this. There were a few people caught on the elevator cameras who got out near Pryce's apartment today. They're working through the records now trying to match names and faces.'

Peron pushed the disc into her desktop and the 'gram came alive with images, angled shots of people in the elevators. Hard to make out and sometimes grainy. Peron watched the faces flash by. Suddenly she stopped the flow, retraced her steps a few frames until the 'gram showed two people, a man and a woman together in the lift. Peron was staring in disbelief at them.

'You know these people, sir?'

'd.a.m.n right I know them,' Peron muttered angrily, her fingers racing across her desktop. 'This woman is a comptech. She was here earlier today. And when I put my call into comp maintenance, that's the man who answered: What the h.e.l.l's going on here?'

The 'gram was teeming with data. It flowed faster than Foley could follow, until abruptly the lines disappeared to be replaced by two more images. Peron had a positive ID. And now she looked more shocked than ever.

It was amazing, the anonymity bestowed by cleaner's garb. There were people about, but the few that Anji pa.s.sed looked straight through her rather than at her. n.o.body even noticed the state of her clothes underneath the overalls as she pottered about with the bucket, opening doors w.i.l.l.y-nilly and gazing around. One or two of the doors were locked, but most of them were open and empty. Obviously due to a deficiency of Very Important People at the moment.

163.

Making her way swiftly down the corridor, she came to a door that took her through to a large open hall that seemed to be some kind of a.s.sembly area. The place was deserted and unnaturally quiet. The constant hum of machinery and slight grumbling motion of the city was almost entirely absent in this area. The walls were adorned with a staggering series of holographic vistas that took Anji's breath away. They appeared to be computer-animated graphics of mountain ranges and stunning lakes. All of them had perfect clear blue skies and wonderful sunny days, with wispy clouds and occasional birds the only reminders that they were actually animated at all.

She headed past a series of elevators towards a pair of impressively large doors at the far end of the hall. Pressing her head up to the doors, she could hear only silence beyond, so she tried one of the handles and found the door to be open. It swung ajar and she discovered a further huge room, this time with a giant table dominating the centre. The decor was strangely discomforting: grey walls laced with white lines that appeared to deliberately mimic an immense spider's web. Around the table were dotted numerous padded seats that reminded Anji of those she'd sat in around innumerable boardroom tables.

And slung over the back of one of the seats was a scruffy-looking bottle-green coat.

Dashing over, she picked up the coat to see instantly that it was mud-spattered and stained with dark patches that might well have been blood.

There were a few items scattered nearby on the table. A yo-yo, monocle and a crumpled little white bag of sweets. s.n.a.t.c.hing the a.s.sorted bits, she began stuffing them back into the coat.

So. He'd been here. But where was he now?

As she was refilling the pockets she noticed the marks on the floor and gasped. The carpet was a dark beige colour so it was difficult to be sure, but the marks appeared to be blood. And they were sprayed in various patterns around the chair that had contained the Doctor's coat.

The lights dimmed unexpectedly. There was motion nearby. One of the children waving its arms. She saw it for an instant Then the voices. .h.i.t her. And the hysteria. A shock sensation that came from nowhere to consume her entirely. As blackness zoomed in she had the impression of muttering whispered voices and a kind of searing dread that made her fingers tingle The lights began to flicker and Leung checked the monitor to find the man in the cell suddenly jumping to his feet. The monitor was dying with the lights, 164fluttering on and off and filling with flashes of static. Punching the keyboard to initiate a systems a.n.a.lysis, Leung watched the cell while he waited for the results.

The prisoner was staring at the door. Or maybe at something in front of the door, although there was nothing there to see. He seemed frozen for a moment, then a ball of furious motion, slamming his fists against the door. The room was filled with the banging, as if Leung were sitting inside a gigantic bell. It made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. That and the lights dancing crazily.

The cell door was shuddering under the prisoner's repeated impact, and Leung could hear his m.u.f.fled voice yelling and screaming. Trying to bring the sound online, Leung was shocked by the hissing static that resulted. Trying to cancel the sound, Leung found it impossible. The noise rose to a swift crescendo, forcing him to cover his ears.

As he gritted his teeth against the onslaught he could swear for a moment that the static was actually thousands of sinister whispering voices Veta was screaming, hands to her head. She was staring wide-eyed into the middle of the empty room and Josef could do nothing to calm her.

In blind panic he shook her, then found her eyes full of so much emotion he couldn't begin to read it.

'What's wrong?'

'Didn't you see him?'

'See who?'

'Oh my G.o.d!'

'What is it?'

' No! No! ' she cried, collapsing in tears. He took her in his arms but she pushed him away, glaring at him in terror and desperation. ' she cried, collapsing in tears. He took her in his arms but she pushed him away, glaring at him in terror and desperation.

'They killed him,' she gasped in disbelief. 'Oh my G.o.d, they killed him. . . '

Part Four

Ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath.

Ephesians ch. 6, v. 4

Voices. Muttering. In the black. Voices she knew and yet they were strange.

They curled through the dark inside her head, growing closer and louder and far more distinct.

Her eyes flicked open and Anji was momentarily fazed to find herself on the floor, face pressed against the blood-spattered carpet. Her brain felt thick and muzzy, thoughts misfiring like her dad's old car. The room around her was also misfiring, flickering dull and bright in a commotion of light.

The voices in her head mingled with the voices outside as she clambered to her feet and gazed about in confusion. There were people approaching. Very near. Two men arguing. No escape. Nowhere to hide. She was going to be found. Blood on the carpet. The Doctor's coat. Fast getting closer and nowhere to run Tyran swept open the door and waved Domecq inside.

'Take a seat,' he offered, indicating the desk vaguely while he rushed over and tried his comp.

The WorldCorp logo fizzed into the air above the desk, distorting and fading but just about managing to remain recognisable. Tyran explored the controls, using the comp to connect to Comp Maintenance. The logo was replaced by a human head that wavered and sparked with little blasts of light.

'Mr Tyran!' the head said, its voice cracking and spitting.

'What the h.e.l.l's going on?' Tyran demanded.

The head shook and shimmered. 'Same as before, sir, only worse. The whole substructure of the comp system seems to be collaps-' The voice and head dissolved and returned.

'. . . monitoring and repairing as fast as we can but it's difficult to keep up with the damage. It's accelerating faster than we can '

The head snapped out of existence and Tyran scowled at Domecq, who sat with infuriating insouciance on the other side of the desk.

'See?' Tyran appealed. 'We have to act now now!'

'There are larger issues at stake here than building a planet.'

166.

167.

'There is is no larger issue than building a planet,' Tyran almost yelled. 'We need this world. The situation on Earth's getting severe ' no larger issue than building a planet,' Tyran almost yelled. 'We need this world. The situation on Earth's getting severe '

'No doubt the strain on WorldCorp's finances is also getting severe '

Tyran regarded Domecq with subdued fury. The man sat there with his arm hooked over the back of his chair looking smug and conceited. The failing light made him look like a fading hologram, and no doubt he felt he was just as untouchable.

'Don't play games with me, Dr Domecq.'

Domecq returned his stare with equanimity. 'Don't play politics with me, Mr Tyran.'

Gritting his teeth, Tyran forced the scrambling demons back down inside.

He'd felt increasingly exasperated by Domecq's att.i.tude since the man arrived.

Tyran couldn't help feeling things would have been easier if the real Domecq had been delayed just another day or so and WorldCorp had been able to use the impostor Domecq as their tool and scapegoat. But now Tyran could feel the reins being tugged from his grasp by this self-possessed tinpot bureaucrat.

'If Ceres Alpha turned out to be another Gildus Prime,' Tyran told him, 'it would be disastrous for everybody, not just WorldCorp. Your precious Earth Central Administration is not exactly in a position to be able to afford the luxury of procrastination. People need room.'

'We need to tread carefully with this situation,' Domecq announced levelly.

'We need to understand these creatures. There's a time for destruction, and there's a time for caution.'

'We don't have have time for caution. Work here is already months behind schedule.' He waved vaguely at the room around him. 'There's a real danger that this entire project could collapse completely.' time for caution. Work here is already months behind schedule.' He waved vaguely at the room around him. 'There's a real danger that this entire project could collapse completely.'

'We need answers '

'Forget answers!' Tyran slammed his fist on the desk. 'Destroy them. Now Now ' '

'Very dangerous tactics,' Domecq warned. 'We don't understand where these creatures came from, what the full extent of their power is, what they're capable of. . . '

'I don't care care what they're capable of. Kill them and they're capable of nothing.' what they're capable of. Kill them and they're capable of nothing.'

'Not that simple.'

'Of course it's that simple.' Tyran felt the blood boil in his veins. He clenched his fists in frustration. 'These things aren't immortal. I just proved that.'

'And look at the results,' Domecq argued. 'For all we know the damage they've instigated could be irreversible when they're gone. While they're alive, there's a good chance to get this situation back under control. . . '

168.'Two months!' Tyran shouted. 'Two months you've had us playing the waiting game. Experimenting on them. You had all the subether reports. You knew what damage they were inflicting here. What harm they've caused. If we'd destroyed them at the start like I said, we'd have none of this trouble now.'

'Might I remind you, Mr Tyran, that you are here only under licence by Earth Central?'

'What's this all about, eh, Doctor?' Tyran demanded suddenly. 'Don't tell me Earth Central are concerned about the welfare of these creatures, or of WorldCorp. These things have been kept alive for a reason. . . '

Domecq said nothing.

'You're hoping to somehow harness their powers, aren't you?'

Still, the steely silence. It spoke volumes.

'You b.a.s.t.a.r.d! You want to have your cake and eat it. You want Ceres Alpha and and these creatures. And you're willing to risk every life on this planet to get them.' these creatures. And you're willing to risk every life on this planet to get them.'

'I wouldn't say there was risk to life, Mr Tyran. . . '

'Tell that to Dr Pryce. Those things sucked his mind dry.'

'Dr Pryce committed suicide. From what I've seen of your reports, he was potentially unstable from the start. That's why you were able to use him as you did.'

'The comps are dying!' Tyran seethed. 'We can't grow crops! Does Earth Central expect us to live like savages here?'

Domecq wallowed in a short silence. Then he stood and walked about the back of his chair lost in thought. When he spoke again, his voice was reconcil-iatory.

'I'm going to be candid with you,' he said. 'We think these creatures are a new weapon, somehow implanted here probably by one of your corporate rivals. We don't know how, and that's what I've been sent to discover. It's quite possible that they pose a threat greater even than mindprobe technology. Imagine telepathic technology! A brand-new kind of psycho-warfare. The talents these creatures possess are only just developing, just beginning to make themselves known. We can't risk not discovering the truth about them.'

Tyran shook his head. 'You're playing with fire.'

'We may well be playing with fire,' Domecq agreed evenly, 'but someone else has got the matches.'

Tyran considered what Domecq was saying. He'd felt all along that his troubles on Ceres had to be the result of corporate espionage. He'd thought they'd somehow managed to install their people at every level and in every area of 169 his organisation. He'd carried out clandestine security sweeps on even his most senior personnel and had been constantly mystified at the complete lack of results.

How much simpler to implant twelve creatures that could affect all aspects of the terraforming without even lifting a finger. Telepathic manipulation at molecular level. That would explain the substructural comp breakdowns, and the swift evolution of the micro-organisms that was hindering germination in the soil. And embryonic implantation or some form of foetal engineering would most probably result in these creatures, these weapons weapons, being nurtured and cared for and protected.