Doctor Who_ Head Games Part 10

The Superior rubbed her chin and thought furiously. When she got to her feet a moment later, she was ready to command decisively again. 'I want a dozen people sent to the Miracle's surface.' She waved her subordinate's protest aside. 'I know it's blasphemous, but I can't believe Enros would want us to sit by whilst this planet dies.'

Darnak did lose a lot of guards last night, ma'am.'

'Then send some of the captured rebels instead. They're more expendable anyway. Also, I want the battleship Morningstar Morningstar brought on-line and ready to scramble.' brought on-line and ready to scramble.'

Merrioc bowed obsequiously. 'I doubt we have the power reserves available for such an operation, Superior. Should I divert it from the lower castes' grid?'

'Oh, absolutely,' she confirmed. 'This is for their own good, after all. I want you to see to that yourself, Merrioc.'

'And the rebels?'

She sighed. 'I suppose even Darnak couldn't make too much of a mess of that simple task.'

Chris woke, to a more pleasant scenario this time. He lay on something soft, his forehead soothed by a wet cloth. But his chest felt tight and he had pins and needles in both hands and feet. For a while, he didn't dare move lest the light was to a.s.sault him again. Then gentle fingers fondled his hair and he opened his eyes with caution.

'Oh!' exclaimed the young woman who knelt by his bed. She pulled back, a little scared.

'h.e.l.lo?' Chris said, squinting to see her although the room was dark. His head ached and his throat was dry.

'h.e.l.lo,' she returned uncertainly.

Chris sat up, his eyes adjusting. He focused on a barred door, set into a stone wall. A cell. Vague memories of the interrogation seeped into his mind.

'My name's Kat'lanna,' the girl said. She was about eighteen 81 in Earth terms, he judged. Her skin was black, but a deep, rich black not found on his home planet even amongst the pure-bred families like Roz's. She had no hair - not even eyebrows - which made her head shape seem unusual and, to Chris, strangely fascinating. She wore a purple bodysuit, which accentuated her delightful curves. She regarded him through curious brown eyes which didn't blink.

'I'm Chris Cwej,' he said.

'Kriskw'dge?'

'No. It's two names. Chris - Cwej.'

'Why do you have two names?'

'Just call me . . . well, Christopher will do.' He normally preferred 'Chris'.

'Kat,' she said, smiling.

'Where are we?'

'In prison.'

'I guessed that. Which planet?' Kat stared. 'No one seems to want to tell me,' Chris added lamely.

'Detrios.' She seemed to have decided he was friendly enough. She moved over and sat beside him. Chris rubbed his arms; the numbness seemed to be spreading.

'What is it like being pink?' Kat asked him, perfectly seriously, reaching out to stroke his hair again. 'And this . . .

this yellowish thing on your head. What is it?'

Chris didn't know what to say, but he couldn't help smiling. Kat giggled and pulled away. 'It's nice,' she said. He liked her laugh.

'Are you my cellmate then?'

Kat shrugged. For now. They'll split us up when they can find room. Right now, they're having to double up. The security forces have just rounded up a lot of rebels. Me included.'

Chris frowned. 'Rebels against what?'

'The Ruling Family.'

He felt a surge of disappointment. 'Oh. You're a criminal.'

Kat's nostrils flared. 'Why should we put up with them?

They're not elected! They just arrange things so that they keep all the money and power whilst we get poorer.'

'Well, maybe it seems like that.'

82.'"Seems" nothing!' Kat snorted. 'Our planet is in ruins and the Ruling Family are too busy with their squabbling to do anything.' She fixed Chris with a glare, defying him to argue.

'This morning, they wiped out ninety per cent of an intelligent race, just because they looked different.'

Chris recoiled. 'You're joking!'

'You don't really think so,' Kat said. She looked away, then turned back a moment later, as though a new thought had occurred to her. 'But you could help us, couldn't you? You're an alien. Don't you have any powers? An armada of s.p.a.ceships or something?'

'Hardly,' Chris said. His voice came out hoa.r.s.e. He coughed and put a hand to his burning throat. 'I'm not even sure I can stay awake. It feels like something hot is burrowing its way round my body.'

'That'll be a truth drug.'

'Great! So that's why they gave up on the interrogation. Not because they believed me or anything; they're just waiting for this thing to take effect.'

'Security are big on chemicals at the moment. Don't worry, they haven't found any side-effects to this one yet.'

Chris blinked and tried to shake the fuzzy feeling in his head.

His mind latched onto something that Kat'lanna had said earlier. 'Why is your planet in ruins?'

'We lost our sun. But our ancestors predicted it. They moved underground and constructed grids which gave us centuries of power. We were supposed to use that time to find a permanent solution. The Ruling Family wasted it. If it wasn't for the Miracle, we might already be dead.'

'The Miracle?'

'It came from nowhere. The astronomers saw strange lights in the sky and sent a ship to investigate. They found that a great big crystal had formed up there.'

'Crystal?' Chris echoed. He was beginning to feel sick - and not only because of the truth drug.

'It provided light and oxygen, and a bit of heat. It was safe to go out onto the surface again. We were able to start rebuilding 83 and to drain solar power from the Miracle to recharge our grids.

It saved our lives.'

'I can see why you call it "the Miracle".' He remembered the Security Chief's accusations and a cold hand tightened around his stomach. Kat looked at him and he turned away, embarra.s.sed, from those beautiful, intense eyes.

'Is something wrong, Christopher?' she asked, concerned.

He shook his head. He wanted to say 'No', but he couldn't.

The drug was working, inhibiting him, preventing such lies from being formed.

'Do you know something about our Miracle?' Kat guessed.

'Is that it?' Chris felt the words rising horribly to his mouth, his brain compelling him to answer truthfully.

Mercifully, before he could, the fiery numbness shot round to encircle his chest and Chris blacked out a third time.

Mortannis was confused. He had expected nothing more than a show trial and a quick execution. Instead, he and six comrades (six of the most physically intimidating rebels, he noted) had been herded into a gla.s.s cubicle in the corner of a room strewn with old bits of machinery and loose wiring. Three technicians worked at battered consoles, whilst the tubby form of Politik Darnak paced and muttered impatiently.

'They're going to get rid of us, aren't they?' The speaker was Angh'enna, a giant man who had been crushed by the day's events. He spoke dolefully, as one expecting only to die.

Mort cursed and banged on the gla.s.s wall. 'What do you want with us?' he yelled. Darnak turned his back deliberately.

'This is a transmat booth,' someone quavered. Mort knew that already. 'What if they're going to send us into deep s.p.a.ce or something, get rid of us that way?'

Mort shivered at the thought. The others mumbled uncomfortably. 'They won't,' he said, trying to sound confident. 'They'd never waste that much power. Not when a rope is cheaper. And they'd prefer to do that in public anyway.'

That calmed the others, but not much. Mortannis could understand their being frightened. He was too.

One of the technicians reported something to Darnak; Mort 84 strained, but the gla.s.s prevented him from hearing the words clearly. Then the Politik turned to them and rubbed his hands with a glee which bode no good for any of them. 'We're sending you to the Miracle.'

A gasp of astonishment rippled through the a.s.sembled captives. 'Without s.p.a.cesuits?' Mort protested, worrying that his comrade's guess might have been right.

'I'm informed that the atmosphere is breathable, if perhaps a little oxygen-rich.' Darnak smiled tightly. 'I suppose we'll find out soon enough if I'm wrong.'

'Why are you doing this? This isn't just a way of disposing of us!'

'Of course not. You will be required to fight for your planet.

There are intruders inside the Miracle and we a.s.sume that they intend sabotage.'

'Why should we help you?'

'Because the destruction of Detrios would not exactly be to your own advantage.'

The rebels were struck dumb by the logic of that statement.

Mort decided to bluff. 'What difference does it make? You're going to execute us anyway.'

'In the event of your survival, the Superior has promised a pardon in exchange for services. I feel she is being quite generous.'

Darnak didn't allow time for the prisoners to protest again.

He turned to the technicians and ordered: 'Send them.' Mort reached out to bang on the gla.s.s wall, to say something.

The cubicle glowed red and reality faded to white.

Darnak smiled as the light went out in the now-empty booth. He would see no more of those rebels: the Superior's so-called a.s.surance had never actually been made, and he knew that power was at too much of a premium to waste bringing such sc.u.m back to Detrios, successful or not. They would starve on the Miracle.

'Well done,' he complimented the technicians, almost managing to sound genuine as he wiped his sweaty hands dry on his grey tunic. It made a nice change for the Superior to put him in charge of something and for it to go ahead without any 85 problems. 'Keep monitoring and let me know what happens.'

"Politik?' an uncertain voice followed him as he headed for the doorway. Darnak screamed inwardly.

'We've got a problem,' the technician said.

He wanted to cry.

When Chris came round, there were lights in his eyes again and he felt the leather straps binding him to the interrogation chair.

For a moment, he imagined that the cell might have been a delusion. What if he had been here all the time, unconscious and dreaming?

No, that couldn't be. Kat's image was too clear.

The Security Chief was leaning across him, upper lip curled in distaste. More awake this time, Chris was able to screen some of the light out and to fix his gaze on his interrogator's stuck-out ears and piggy eyes. 'I trust you are ready to tell us everything?'

'Not really,' he replied with forced honesty. 'I feel a bit sick.'

The Security Chief slapped his face and Chris seethed with the injustice of it. 'You've injected me with truth drug, what point is there in hitting me too?'

'I enjoy it.'

'Well, carry on like that and I'll have to tell you what you want to know anyway.' Chris groaned. That hadn't been quite what he had intended to say. 'Look, before you lose control again, let me make this clear: I've only just found out where I am. I don't know how I came to be here or what I'm accused of.

If I did, I would have answered your questions long ago.'

He looked up at the Security Chief, expecting to be slapped again. He was treated to a slight smile instead. 'We brought you here from the inside of our Miracle. You stand accused of trying to sabotage said Miracle, and thus of attempting to end life on this planet.' He exploded in rage and punched Chris so hard that his neck ached from the whiplash. ' Now will you talk?! Now will you talk?! ' '

Chris nodded wearily and felt his eyes drooping again. The drug was extracting a confession from him, but it didn't matter.

He wanted to talk anyway.

'You're right,' he told the Security Chief, matter-of-factly. 'I think I've been tricked into trying to commit genocide.'

86.

10.When I Say Run . . .