Doctor Who_ The Dying Days Part 34

'This isn't the way,' he shouted, turning to Xznaal, ready to talk to him. The Martian Lord's claw was raised, aiming his sonic disruptor squarely at them. The Doctor threw himself down to the deck as Xznaal fired. A glob of sonic energy streaked over him, slammed into the wal , shattering a chrome pipe. A stream of liquid gushed out, catching Vrgnur on the shoulder. Instinctively, the scientist turned, and the fluid was al over his face and torso.

With horror, the Doctor realised that the cylinder was full of liquid nitrogen.

Vrgnur's carapace was creaking. A crack had appeared. His legs and arms were untouched by the liquid, but they gave way. With each movement, a new gash was being rent in the Ice Warrior's armour. The Martian howled a scream, a terrible, almost electronic, sound. His final act was to raise his own claw, to aim it at his Lord.

'No, Vrgnur!' the Doctor cal ed, but it was too late.

The sonic energy ran up the frozen chitin of the Martian's arm, and the spiky armour burst open one segment after the other. The Doctor watched with horrified fascination. The molecular structure of the armour had become brittle, almost crystalline as a result of the freezing process. Vrgnur lurched, his Martian const.i.tution keeping him alive even as the liquid nitrogen and sonic reaction reached his vital organs. He was gasping for breath, but each mouthful of air burst open the solidifying mazelike structures of his lungs.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, trying to think of just one way that he could help the scientist. But there was nothing he could do. Vrgnur crashed over like a fallen tree. For a moment his remaining arm twitched, the claw clasping and unclasping. Around him, the liquid nitrogen was evaporating into patches of white mist.

Xznaal and the Doctor stood over the corpse, watching each other warily.

Extract from the memoirs of Professor Bernice Summerfield The Brigadier hurried across Tower Green towards me. He had a machine gun slung over his soldier, and a squad of UNIT men behind him.

'Xznaal's going to release the gas once the warship is ten kilometres up. The Doctor's...o...b..ard.' I explained.

'Yes I know.'

'T minus one minute,' Bambera said. 'If you're going to abort the airstrike, you'll have to do it now.'

The Brigadier peered up at the ship. 'It's stopped firing.'

I brightened. 'The Doctor must be in control up there. Cal off the attack.'

Lethbridge-Stewart nodded slowly. 'I think you're right.' He unclipped his radio. 'Greyhound to Eagle. Hold your fire.

Await further orders.'

End of extract 117.

The Doctor was looking up at the vast metal tank again, clearly in awe. The vast tank above him clattered.

'Lord Xznaal,' the intercom barked, 'we have reached the optimum alt.i.tude for dispersion.'

Xznaal maintained his position at the release controls, but he didn't pull the lever, not yet. Instead he stabbed at the control that opened the inspection hatches. The metal panels rolled back, revealing the Red Death. It boiled and bubbled like a giant kettle or a witch's cauldron. Eyes and fangs were forming in there, barbed limbs and spines the size of telegraph poles. It hissed and popped and wheezed. It growled and snarled and grunted. Limbs and appendages sprouted and withered as it tried and failed to find a break in the vessel that kept it contained.

The Doctor was standing alongside him.

'It is a thing of beauty,' Xznaal shouted over the din. 'Does it scare you?'

The Doctor turned to the Martian, and without saying a word he stretched out his paw and held it up against the gla.s.s. For the first time, the Red Death withdrew, frightened of what it had discovered.

'I've gazed into the abyss already, Xznaal, and the abyss gazed into me. It fled from what it saw. Monsters who fight with me should take care.'

Xznaal lurched at him, al owing the Doctor plenty of time to pull back. Xznaal swiped again, an inch from the Doctor's face this time. The Martian wheezed with pleasure, his jaws opening wide.

'You have lost, Time Lord. This precious Earth will die, al the human animals wil die.'

'No,' The Doctor replied simply.

In a lesser lifeform it would be stupidity, but here it was the legendary Time Lord arrogance. Before the Doctor died, he would have to be taught humility. Xznaal opened his claws and began to advance. The Doctor stood his ground as the Martian loomed over him, his tiny form framed by the writhing ma.s.s of the Red Death above him.

Xznaal found it apt that a creature as brave as the Doctor would meet his fate at the claws of one as n.o.ble as himself.

He reached out, placing a pincer delicately around either side of the Doctor's neck. The Doctor lifted his head slightly to accommodate the vast claw. And then Xznaal yanked the Time Lord ten feet into the air, slamming his head against the plate gla.s.s of the inspection hatch. The cloud shied away at first, but was soon beginning to gain in confidence. Tentatively, a tendril of red vapour inched towards the gla.s.s.

'Will you stop me?' Xznaal roared disdainful y.

The Doctor's squashy human face was pressed tight to the gla.s.s. He struggled to draw breath. 'No. I'm just a distraction. Something to keep you occupied.'

The intercom began barking. 'My Lord, a flock of human aerocraft are approaching. They are heavily armed and on a direct intercept course.'

A hologlobe materialised in front of Xznaal. He released his grip on the Doctor to study the display. There were three attack groups, al approaching from the west.

'Without its sonic cannons, this warship is a sitting duck, Xznaal,' the Doctor said, rubbing his throat.

The radio crackled. 'This is Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, commanding officer of the British forces to the Martian vessel. I have just received the unconditional surrender of the Provisional Government. Your occupation of our territory is over. I give you three minutes to withdraw your forces from British airs.p.a.ce or to signal your surrender. Lethbridge-Stewart out.'

Xznaal peered deep into the hologlobe. 'These Earth soldiers are weak,' he said, giving a great gurgling laugh.

'They have the chance to destroy me, yet they give me time enough to wipe them out. The Red Death will cleanse the Earth of human filth. It will feast on them, their women and their primate offspring. This vast green world wil be scoured clean, its oceans and skies will be emptied. Humanity will die.'

He turned to face the Doctor, and found himself staring into the lens of a holocamera.

'You should never underestimate the power of public opinion,' the Doctor smiled, lowering the camera.

'Congratulations, King Xznaal, I think you've just made your abdication speech.'

The giant hologram faded from the skies. All around, there was silence. The crowd were holding their breath.

'Commit,' said Lethbridge-Stewart.

There was a deep rumbling explosion, far away. Then another, much nearer. Within seconds it had become a sustained a.s.sault, salvo after salvo hitting home. The warship might not have forcefields, but the armour-plating was several metres thick in places. Unless the RAF were very lucky, the first wave of the attack would weaken the superstructure of the warship rather than hit anything more vulnerable, like a power cable or the magnetic engines.

Here in the hold they were sheltered from the worst of the bombardment, but the lighting was flickering and the whole ship was lurching from one side to another. The intercom was crackling. However much of a pounding the warship took, Xznaal's men wouldn't move it without an express order from their Lord.

Xznaal had disappeared into the shadows. The Doctor peered into the gloom. He was sure that the Martian Lord wouldn't leave the Dispersion Chamber. Above him, the Red Death was straining inside its tank. The Doctor bounded over to the release controls, slipping the sonic screwdriver from his pocket.

118.

'It's finished, Xznaal,' he shouted over the noise of another explosion. An adjustment to the sonic screwdriver made it into a welding tool. A couple of quick bursts from that, and the lever was jammed so tightly that not even Martian strength would be able to move it.

The ship had stopped rocking. The first wave of the attack must be over, and there would be a brief respite for the warship as the Harriers arced around at not-quite-supersonic speeds ready to attack again.

Suddenly Xznaal was in front of him, emerging from a column of choking black smoke and filling his field of vision.

'If I die, you wil die,' he bellowed.

'If you die, the Earth will live,' the Doctor said, standing his ground. 'I've died many times before, Xznaal, and death doesn't scare me.'

It was getting hotter. There was fire behind the gla.s.s door that led into the rest of the ship. Hot gases would be swirling around the ship, melting plastics and the softer metals like cast iron. The light from the flames was pouring into the Dispersion Chamber, and soon the flames themselves would be in here.

Above him, the Red Death continued to rage.

Xznaal brought a claw up, sweeping the Doctor from his path and charging towards the release controls. The Martian tugged at the lever, but it didn't move. He tried again, and it came away in his claw.

The Doctor took a step back. 'You are beaten.'

Xznaal turned, still defiant. 'I can still make my mark on history, Doctor,' he roared. 'As the man who killed you.'

The Martian was holding a burning torch, a piece of wreckage from a damaged section of floor. The firelight danced over the landscape of the Martian's face, throwing its rifts and valleys into sharp contrast. A sweep from the torch and the Doctor stumbled, struggling to retain his balance. He was pinned against the wal now.

Xznaal tossed the torch aside, reached over him and yanked off one of the stainless steel gas cylinders bolted to the bulkhead. Xznaal swung it down without effort, angling it at the Doctor.

'You saw what the liquid nitrogen did to Vrgnur,' Xznaal rasped. 'Imagine the effect it would have on soft Gallifreyan flesh.'

The Doctor had no time to do anything but wince as Xznaal tugged at the valve. A jet of colourless gas spurted out, streaming over his cheek. The Doctor opened his eye and turned back to Xznaal.

'Nothing's going right for you today, is it?'

Xznaal hurled the canister at him with an exasperated grunt. The Doctor had already dived out of the way. He bent down to examine the cylinder as it rolled over to him, shutting off the valve to prevent any more gas from escaping.

Xznaal loomed over him, hissing.

The Doctor held up the cylinder so that Xznaal could see it. 'Helium,' he cal ed up at the monolith. 'An inert gas.

Harmless, especially to a Time Lord with a respiratory bypa.s.s system. And now I have the satisfaction of knowing that when you utter your last words, they'll be squeaky ones.'

'Your last words wil be lost to the winds, Time Lord,' Xznaal cheeped. He pointed one claw at the floor, resting the other on a vast red lever.

The Doctor looked down and realised that his feet were planted on the edge of the iris hatch.

Xznaal grabbed the lever and pulled.

The hatch dilated open and the wind whipped up from the gaping hole behind the Doctor lifting the tails of his frock coat. The Doctor steadied his feet, balancing right on the lip of the opening. He glanced back over his shoulder.

Debris was pouring through the hole and out over London.

'That's a terrific view,' the Doctor observed, turning back.

Xznaal grabbed the Doctor's throat, yanking him off his feet and swinging him over the hole. The Doctor's legs pedalled in thin air, and he tried to keep control of his breathing.

The Doctor was still gripping the gas cylinder. He brought it down on the Ice Warrior's shoulder, and again. He only succeeded in denting the cylinder, which slipped from his grip.

There was an explosion far behind them, a great reverberation that ran the full length of the ship. The warship lurched. Another explosion. Another. These weren't missile strikes: the magnetic engines were in chain reaction now.

'Goodbye,' the Doctor said softly.

Xznaal said nothing, he simply released his grip.

The Doctor's hands tried to shoot forwards, to grab onto the edge of the hatchway, but the gas cylinder was in the way. With al his weight tugging at it, the canister began rolling inexorably towards the edge. Wide-eyed, the Doctor tried to scrabble over it, a movement which ended abruptly as he found himself outside.

The underside of the Martian ship stretched above him, dark, spiky metal as far as even his eyes could see. The only break was the circular hatch he had just fallen through, which was diminishing with every second. The wind was whipping around him, drowning out the sound of the ship tearing itself apart.

Xznaal was leaning over, his claws clenched in triumph. He was rumbling with laughter. The fire came only moments later, lapping around the Martian, surging over his vast frame and obliterating him. He died satisfied that he had killed a Time Lord, that his people had been avenged.

119.

Extract from the memoirs of Professor Bernice Summerfield The Provisional Government forces had been rounded up. Eve Waugh and Alan were filing a report in front of the White Tower. The Brigadier and I were up in the Lanthorn Tower, peering through binoculars at the Martian warship. Even at an alt.i.tude of ten kilometres it filled my viewfinder.

It shook again.

'What's going on up there?' I asked. The vapour trails of the RAF planes were visible, but not the planes themselves, they were too small.

'The air strikes are really hitting home,' the Brigadier said enthusiastical y. 'That warship real y is a marvel, though.

It must be solid metal in places. How do you think the Doctor will escape?'

I considered my answer for a couple of seconds. 'The magnetic platform won't be reliable - it depends on power from the warship. By now, he's probably destroyed the gas and he'll be making his way to the shuttle bay.'

'And that's in that compartment towards the front, isn't it? So, we watch out for movement along - '

The warship exploded.

'My G.o.d,' the Brigadier said softly. 'Not again.'

All around us, people were cheering. The shouts and whoops almost drowned out the rumbling, rolling sound of the explosion as it reached ground level.

'He ... he might have survived,' I said.

'He might have,' the Brigadier said gently. 'Professor Summerfield ... Benny. The important thing is that he beat the Martians. Thanks to him the entire human race has been saved.'

The Brigadier was trying to convince himself as much as persuade me. He was the one who had ordered the air strike, and he'd been the Doctor's friend a great deal longer than I had.

'Yes,' I said, just wanting to cling to something that was certain. 'At least it was quick.'

The Brigadier shifted on his feet. I only found out a few years ago why - he must have known that when a pilot or astronaut dies in a fire or an explosion it's not a quick clean death. A fighter pilot can expect to live a full five to ten seconds as his aircraft explodes around him. It's as bad, apparently, for those who have to listen to the black box voice recorders afterwards.