Doctor Who_ The Fall Of Yquatine Part 24

The other Elite remained staring unblinkingly at their leader, showing no sign of agreement or disagreement with Zuklor.

The Grand Gynarch rested both hands on top of her blackwood staff. 'And what would you advise?'

'We must prepare for evacuation, not war.'

The Grand Gynarch crashed her staff into the stone floor three times, ignoring the pain. The sound echoed around the stone chamber. Zuklor was male, he was old, he possessed neither the fire of a warrior nor the blood-thirst of the Gynarchs. Was he the source of M'Pash's dissent? 'Enough! If the Omnethoth are to prosper and our planet is doomed, then that is even more reason to fight! This may be our last chance for glory. Better to die fighting than to flee to yet another world! Imagine trying to build up another New Anthaur the decades of work it would take! The spirit of the people would be crushed utterly. They are behind me! They would rather fight and die than flee!'

She had half risen from her chair, and slumped back down again.

Zuklor sat back down on his stone block, head bowed respectfully. 'I am sorry '

She cut short his weak words with a thump of her staff and an angry hiss. 'Enough talk' Her mouth curved in a wide grin. 'In the words of that weakling Vargeld, now is the time for action. Whatever happens, we fight.'

The flames in their holders on the walls of the chamber guttered and flickered as if in a sudden gust of wind.

The Doctor had witnessed the deaths of many stars. Most died slowly of old age, cooling and dying gradually. More rarely, others went out in the biggest, most spectacular blaze of glory this side of the Big Bang a supernova. The Doctor had seen at a safe distance and behind shielding a dying sun flare with the brightness of an entire galaxy, flinging heavy elements far into s.p.a.ce, creating the stardust that floated in the interstellar voids between the galaxies. From this far-flung matter, new stars would eventually form. New star systems, new life. Out of death comes life. It was the way of things. It was the upside of the universal process in an indifferent universe, death is equal to life, or, rather, part part of life. The bones in the ground feed the soil. The exploding star seeds other stars. The fallen leaves nourish the new trees. Winter gives way to spring. An endless cycle of life and death, indifferent and uncaring yet paradoxically because of this allowing care and love to flourish in the life that was thrown up, green and new and questioning, to solve the riddles of existence. of life. The bones in the ground feed the soil. The exploding star seeds other stars. The fallen leaves nourish the new trees. Winter gives way to spring. An endless cycle of life and death, indifferent and uncaring yet paradoxically because of this allowing care and love to flourish in the life that was thrown up, green and new and questioning, to solve the riddles of existence.

The sombre beauty of the grand scheme of things always comforted the Doctor. Even without him, the process would carry on, in this universe and the next. It was a shame that no one else seemed to be able or even willing to try to see this maybe Compa.s.sion would appreciate it, if she was still out there somewhere. A worthy companion-TARDIS to share in the immensity of things.

If he ever met her again. If she would forgive him.

He shied away from such thoughts, turning his mind to the Senate and President Vargeld with his closed, hostile mind. A sense of detachment might help them come to terms, accept things as they were. Give them the necessary sense of objectivity so that they could carry on with things.

Despite this, the fate of Yquatine filled his hearts with sorrow.

On the screen of the Argusia Argusia, he could see the attack fleet positioning itself around Yquatine. Zendaak and the Doctor were too late they had never really had any chance of catching up and the fleet were about to deliver their fatal charge. Nothing would come of the destruction of the Omnethoth. Yquatine would become a misshapen, scarred lump in s.p.a.ce, an ugly tombstone for the millions dead. Life would shun such a place for millennia, perhaps for ever.

'Cruel, cruel, cruel mistress,' the Doctor said to himself, the words soft and whispering. 'Dark princess, caring naught for the fate of her subjects.'

An Anthaurk swivelled round to face Zendaak. 'Commander, they're getting ready.'

Zendaak turned slowly to the Doctor. 'You still want to proceed? The anti-ionisation shields we have installed are untested.'

The Doctor nodded. 'We haven't got any choice.'

Zendaak raised an arm and pointed at the screen, at the green blob that represented Yquatine. 'Take us in.'

Throughout the Minerva System, every screen on every media unit was tuned to the MNN broadcast. The station would attain record audience figures as viewers on the remaining nine planets tuned in to watch the final battle.

The twelve ships positioned themselves equidistantly around the equator of Yquatine at an alt.i.tude of twelve thousand kilometres. Below them, the surface of the planet churned and heaved, a mind-warping mora.s.s of darkness. There was no doubt, it was expanding, swelling out into s.p.a.ce. Preparing to seed the System with its spores. The twelve ships shut down their engines and routed power to their ionisation weapons. Twelve lances of blue fire plunged down into the thundercloud surface of the Omnethoth ma.s.s.

Several billion beings watched. Several million hot beverages cooled unnoticed on tabletops.

And, similarly unnoticed, a cloaked Anthaurk battleship shot at incredible speed past the orbit of the twelve ships and hurtled down towards the surface of Yquatine.

The Argusia Argusia.

The attack fleet couldn't deliver a charge sufficiently big enough to envelop the entire Omnethoth in one go; they had to reposition themselves at different points above the globe of Yquatine. The fleet having deployed around the equator, the Doctor had instructed Zendaak to take the Argusia Argusia through the Omnethoth-clouded atmosphere above the south pole, as far away from the discharges as possible. through the Omnethoth-clouded atmosphere above the south pole, as far away from the discharges as possible.

Now the Doctor stood, clad in the s.p.a.cesuit he'd brought along (no chance of fitting into even the smallest of Anthaurk suits), on the bridge of the Argusia Argusia. Even though they were away from the discharges all shields were up to ward off the acid attacks of the Omnethoth. They didn't have much time.

A claw on his shoulder, twisting him round. Zendaak's face, eyes of red fire. 'Now!'

The Doctor nodded and followed Zendaak from the flight deck beyond which ran a long, low corridor, his mind ticking over the calculations. The Omnethoth would be too distracted with being frazzled to worry about attacking the ship. Not too frazzled for him to be able to take a sample, though.

They came to the outer airlock door, which resembled a crusty star-shaped shield. The Doctor went to check a certain piece of equipment he'd insisted Zendaak install for him on a shelf outside the airlock, and nodded in satisfaction. Then, as he checked the seals on his helmet, he glanced up at Zendaak. Now was the time to find out about trust. 'You know what to do?'

Zendaak nodded, his hand resting on the airlock control nodule.

'Then open the door.'

The inner airlock door ground open. Without hesitation the Doctor stepped into the chamber and the door closed behind him.

Strips of red light skirted the walls of the boxlike room. Ahead, another door similar to the first, with a big spiked wheel in the centre. The Doctor walked over to a panel by the side of the door and pressed a control lever. The airlock began to depressurise and he checked the seals on his helmet and his oxygen reserves once more you could never be too careful.

Soon the airlock was devoid of air. The only sound was the rasp of the Doctor's own breath inside his helmet. He grabbed the spiked wheel of the outer door and began to turn it. Almost immediately, dark splurges of Omnethoth gas leapt in through the gap. The Doctor spun the wheel the other way, and the door thumped closed.

He turned to face the thing that was forming in the centre of the airlock. Though the Omnethoth were a gestalt ent.i.ty, with each particle operating as part of a greater whole, they tended to work in attack units, such as the one the Doctor had brought back from Muath. His intention was similar here to take an attack unit inside him, tinker with its DNA, turn it from an attack unit into a something less aggressive, like a tea-andcake unit.

The Doctor reached out with his mind, to the mind particles of the Omnethoth cloud.

He gasped in shock.

Something was wrong.

The creature was closed to him, a barrier of anger and fear preventing him from reaching it. The Doctor tried harder, sweat breaking out on his brow. Why was it so scared? They were hundreds of miles from the source of the ionisation it hadn't reached this part of the cloud. Then he realised. They were a gestalt ent.i.ty, of course: the fear of the units under attack was being communicated to the rest of the cloud.

The Doctor backed against the wall.

The unit was bunching to attack. One touch, and his suit would be ruptured and he'd suffocate in the vacuum.

The Doctor skirted around the smoky shape towards the inner door. Working quickly, he bypa.s.sed the safety controls and the inner door began to open.

There was a roar as air began to fill the vacuum. The Omnethoth was broken up by the jet of air and the Doctor hung on to the handle as he was buffeted about. Heaving himself along the ridges on the door towards the gap, he saw Zendaak dive in, thrusting his arm towards the Doctor.

The Doctor felt his arm almost wrench from its socket as he was pulled to safety.

Once outside the airlock Zendaak slammed the door closed, a few wisps of Omnethoth cloud gusting out from the sides. Not enough to do any damage, the Doctor hoped but you could never be sure. He grabbed the equipment Zendaak had prepared a miniature vacuum cleaner and with deft movements hoovered up the floating wisps of Omnethoth.

That done, he handed the vacuum cleaner to Zendaak. 'I'd get that ejected into s.p.a.ce p.r.o.nto,' he said, taking off his helmet, 'before they convert to acid and eat their way out.'

Zendaak handed the unit to a waiting guard, who hurried off, holding it at arm's length.

The Doctor took off his helmet and ruffled his hair. 'That's the second time you've saved my life.'

Zendaak stood over him, seven feet of frowning orange and black reptile. 'What happened?'

'I wasn't able to, er, ingest it. It was a bit shook up. I need a properly equipped laboratory, controlled conditions... Oh no.'

Zendaak was pointing a gun at him. 'You will find that there are plenty of well-equipped laboratories on New Anthaur.'

The Doctor wiped the sweat from his forehead. He'd been half expecting this. 'Don't tell me, you want to take the Omnethoth back to your homeworld and you want me to reprogram them so they obey only you.'

Zendaak's wide head dipped in a snakelike nod.

The Doctor spread his arms in a gesture of exasperation. 'Madness! Unutterable madness!'

Zendaak growled, grabbed one of the Doctor's arms and sent him spinning down the corridor towards the flight deck.

The Doctor collided with a bulkhead and collapsed, winded.

Zendaak stood over him. 'Not madness. The glory of the Anthaurk race!'

The Doctor rolled over, groaning, clutching his arm. He was yanked to his feet and propelled back to the flight deck.

The screen showed a ma.s.s of confusion. They were still flying through the Omnethoth cloud.

The Anthaurk lieutenant handed a datachip to Zendaak. 'Sir, a message from the Grand Gynarch!'

Zendaak read the communication. 'Change of plan. We're going to rendezvous with the Grand Gynarch at Aloysius which will soon be under Anthaurk rule.'

The Doctor closed his eyes and muttered an Ancient Gallifreyan curse. Would some races never learn?

The moment he opened his eyes, all the lights went off and he was in total darkness. He backed away towards the wall, wondering where the escape pods were. Then dim red emergency lighting came on, revealing a tableau of Anthaurk milling about in confusion.

'What is happening?' hissed Zendaak.

'We're not going anywhere,' said the Anthaurk lieutenant. 'The shield has failed. The ionisation field has knocked out our power systems. All we have is the battery cell backup, enough for basic life support.'

The Doctor ran forward, familiarising himself with the controls. It was true. The ionisation had reached the south pole and had fatally damaged the Argusia Argusia. So much for the bolted-on Anthaurk technology. He should never have trusted it, any more than he should have trusted the Anthaurk themselves. Along with the attack fleet, they were paralysed and surrounded by dying Omnethoth.

The screen showed a swirling fractal vortex of chaos as the dying creatures flailed and writhed in the electrical energy that danced around the planet. Occasionally the ship shuddered as a discharge of energy pa.s.sed through it.

'He's right,' cried the Doctor. 'We're trapped.'

He turned to Zendaak. The creature was actually smiling. 'So it ends here,' he hissed.

The Doctor turned back to the screen, his face set in a mask of determination. 'Not if I can help it.'

Chapter Twenty-Three.

'I suggest you surrender immediately'

It was one of the few remaining bottles of Chateau Yquatine in the entire universe. It stood on the table, the blue gla.s.s shining like the towers of the Palace of Yquatine once had.

President Vargeld would never see the palace again, never have time to get used to it, settle in. With a pang he thought: Where is home now?

He raised his gla.s.s. The flame of the solitary candle on the table was magnified in the red liquid so that it looked like a setting sun. 'To the captains and crews of the attack squadron.'

Krukon, Fandel, Okotile, Juvingeld and Tibis raised their gla.s.ses and returned the toast. It was a token gesture for the Adamantean and the Kukutsi, as they could not drink the wine However, they had all felt that they needed to make sonic gesture. Rhombus-Alpha revolved above, its light dimmed in respect. A silence fell, which none of them felt like breaking. All eyes were on the holo of Yquatine that occupied the centre of the makeshift Senate chamber. It was a crackling ball of energy, as though thunderstorms raged across every centimetre of its surface. Already, glimpses of the true surface of the planet could be seen bare, scorched rock. No sign of the beautiful cities of Yendip, Farleath and Orlisby. No sign of the oceans. What had the Omnethoth done boiled them away into s.p.a.ce?

President Vargeld put down his gla.s.s. He didn't feel like celebrating. It was a hollow victory, against a senseless, faceless. implacable enemy. No, 'enemy' wasn't the right word. 'Force' seemed more appropriate. The Doctor was right: the universal process as he'd called it was indifferent, uncaring. Yquatine would for ever be a monument to the unfairness of things.

And a tomb for Arielle.

Stefan Vargeld suddenly felt very tired. He didn't want to go to bed in case he dreamed of Arielle, and woke up thinking she was still alive; but his body was crying out for sleep.

'Well, gentlemen.' He sighed. 'Our scout fleets will keep an eye on things for us. I suggest we all take some rest. G.o.d knows we've earned it.'

Weary nods. They all filed from the Senate chamber towards their quarters.

Fandel walked beside the President. 'I wonder what happened to Zendaak and the Doctor.'

President Vargeld couldn't find it within himself to care. 'If they were caught up in the ionisation then they'll have gone the same way as the attack squadron.'

'Pity,' said Fandel. And then, with feeling, 'I was dying to ask him for the name of his tailor!'

Their eyes met. There was a desperate cast to Fandel's expression, his pale pudgy face slack, his eyes haunted. Clearly he wanted to share even the most pathetic of jollities, needed some sign that everything was normal.

President Vargeld forced himself to smile. It felt like trying to make himself vomit. 'Yeah.' He patted Fandel's stout shoulder, unable to say anything else. Fandel grasped his hand, shook it, and scurried off down the corridor.

The President turned away and headed towards his quarters. At least Fandel still had a homeworld, with tailors and shops and banks and taverns and parks and lakes and people. Would Luvia become the new heart of the System? Was the quaint little world up to the task?

Was he up to the task of pulling it all together, now that the Omnethoth had been defeated?

He didn't know. All he knew was that he was tired but scared to sleep, and that he ached for Arielle.

As the artificial night of the station fell, the duty officers of s.p.a.cedock Three drank coffee and chatted to while away the hours. Their cylindrical tower overlooked the entire s.p.a.cedock: the hangars, maintenance bays and launch pads. Monitors allowed a 360 degree view around the station. They showed the ring of Anthaurk ships, which remained even though the Omnethoth threat had been nullified.

'What are they still doing there?' muttered Jalbert. It worried him. They hadn't responded to any of his hailings. Perhaps they were all asleep like every other sane being in the sector.

About halfway through the night there was a bleep and a voice announced that a shuttle was approaching the station.

The officers sprang into life. 'Status report?' enquired Guvin, a dark-skinned young lad from Oomingmak.

The calm computer voice cut in. 'Small munic.i.p.al shuttle, badly damaged. motive power nil, drifting, no life signs.'