Killing Ground Part 16

The Doctor waited until both Cybermen were facing away from him.

Then he leapt to his feet and rushed for the controls. Hegelia quickly did as he had advised, hitching up her robe and scurrying to take cover.

The Doctor launched himself at the machinery, but managed to grasp only one lever before its owners reacted. The nearest Cyberman took one step and knocked him away with a sweep of its arm. He hurtled into a graceless arc, hit the floor and slid on his back. Both Cybermen bore down on him and Hegelia shivered as she remembered the Leader's threats. But the Doctor, far from being winded, was scrambling to his feet. He ducked past the slow-moving Cybermen, put the master console between him and them and dived for the ladder which led to the compartments. He hauled himself onto the first balcony and halted breathlessly in front of the first gla.s.s door. The unarmed Cyberman followed; the other brought up its gun to cover him.

'Not logical!' the Doctor crowed, pointing towards the levelled weapon. 'If you fire that, you're more likely to hit the person behind me. You'll kill one of your own kind and wreck your precious equipment into the bargain!' It hesitated and, with a clenched-tooth smile of insane determination, the Doctor turned, pulled open a small hatch in the wall and ripped out a handful of wires.

'That's one man spared from your manipulation!'

The other Cyberman was On the ladder now. Despite herself, Hegelia called out a warning. 'Doctor!'

He had seen it. As it dismounted, he hurtled along the balcony, putting himself out of its range. It made an attempt to bring him down anyway. Fire spat from its head and the Doctor fell, but picked himself up, apparently unharmed, and continued to run. The Cyberman followed. Its comrade below pivoted, keeping the Doctor in its sights.

Hegelia shrank behind her console and resolved not to draw attention to herself again.

The Doctor stopped to perform a further act of sabotage. 'Four hundred and ninety-eight to go,' he boasted, brandishing the disconnected wiring before moving on.

'Desist, or be destroyed!' warned the ground-level Cyberman.

'Not a convincing threat. You see, I've saved two lives. I can save a lot more before you kill me. Logically, I should continue.'

'There is no logic in perpetuating the existence of organics.'

'Of course not!' bellowed the Doctor in a mocking tone. He turned, flipped open another maintenance hatch and wrenched out its innards.

The Cyberman fired. Through luck or judgement - Hegelia couldn't tell - the Doctor avoided the blast. The door of the disabled compartment exploded into a shower of boiling fragments and Hegelia's nose wrinkled at the smell of burnt flesh. 'Oh, that was clever, wasn't it?' the Doctor shouted, scornful and bitter.

'You yourself intimated that the human within was of of no use to us.' no use to us.'

'Perhaps - but do you want to render this whole chamber inoperational?' The other Cyberman was still coming. The Doctor hurried along, keeping a measured distance ahead. For now, he left the compartments alone. Hegelia guessed that he was waiting for his foes to consider the merits of his argument before risking more lives.

The Cyberman below seemed to have done just that. As the Doctor came full circle and reached the ladder again, it lowered its gun and marched towards him. He hurried up four more levels and raced along the topmost tier, Hegelia craning her neck to follow his progress. When he was halfway around, he set to work on the compartments again. One - two - three. But time was running out. Both Cybermen had reached the ladder and, as they emerged onto the Doctor's level, they separated and approached him from each side. There was no other way down. He was cornered.

Hegelia watched on breathlessly as the Doctor continued to work, displaying an almost casual disregard towards his impending fate. Then, as his pursuers closed in, he looked up, glanced at each of them in turn, gripped the balcony rail and vaulted over it.

For a moment, his legs dangled in mid-air, a single arm holding his weight. Then his questing hand found the balcony's edge and he lowered himself, straining with the effort, until his feet could touch the rail below. He swung over it and landed unsteadily on the metal surface, even as the Cybermen met above his head. They halted in unison and the unarmed one pivoted and returned to the ladder. The other straddled the railing and began to climb down after its prey.

The Doctor was using his momentary advantage. Conversion became an impossibility for four more subjects. Then he took flight before the armed Cyberman could get too close. Its comrade had almost reached the ladder and Hegelia was put in mind of a macabre, live session o f . . .

what was the name of that cla.s.sical board game again?

The Doctor was surrounded once more, the approach of one Cyberman forcing him towards the other, which stepped off the ladder and remained still beside it. Even the Doctor wasn't agile enough to climb to a higher tier unaided. The only way he could go now was down - and down again, until he was back at ground floor level and could be killed without risk. The game would take some time to run its course, but the ending was certain. The Doctor, however, did not bow to the inevitable. He waited for the last second before swinging, more easily this time, down onto the third, central, balcony. As Hegelia had predicted, the unarmed Cyberman retook the ladder, lowered itself to his level and stood sentry once more. The other clambered immediately, if awkwardly, onto the railing. But this time, the Doctor's plan was different. Remaining beneath his pursuer, he set to work behind the nearest hatch, conducting an operation of far more complexity than the wanton destruction of earlier.

As the Cyberman's lower half dropped into his view, the Doctor swung to face it with a gleam in his eye and a wire in each hand. He thrust the stripped ends into the creature's stomach and it gave a shriek as an electric halo fizzed about its armour. Still, it clung - and fought to continue its downward climb until it finally attained the Doctor's level.

Hegelia saw determination in the Time Lord's face as his reeling victim nevertheless gained ground across the balcony's painfully narrow width.

As the Doctor's back hit the wall, he cast the wires aside, cutting off the lethal current an instant before a steely hand took his forearm. The Cyberman held him and raised its gun, preparing a point-blank blast which would kill even a Time Lord.

But the Doctor kicked out and, to Hegelia's astonishment, the Cyberman staggered. Its grip was loosened and it teetered over the balcony rail, more weakened than it had seemed to be. The Doctor leapt after it and pushed its head down to shift its centre of gravity.

Despite its failings, it toppled - and fell to the ground with a final-sounding crash, limbs splayed at impossible angles.

Only then did the ArcHivist see that its comrade had abandoned its post. As the Doctor turned to check on its position, it closed in and clamped its hands onto his shoulders. He squealed and fought to remain upright. The pair were locked in combat for an unbearably long moment, but the Doctor's legs were starting to buckle. He stood no chance against the might of a fully functional Cyberman.

Hegelia acted on instinct - a truly unfamiliar experience to her. She sped across the room until she reached the blackened remains of the fallen Cyberman and prised its gun from lifeless hands. She steadied the b.u.t.t against her shoulder, backing up until she could see the scene above her clearly. The combatants had twisted so that the back of her target's head was presented. The Doctor was on his knees, his expression a pained grimace. As Hegelia fumbled for the trigger, the Cyberman began to turn, as if sensing her actions. Maybe it did - or maybe an automatic signal from its dead comrade had alerted it to the loss of its weapon.

She fired. The shot went wild, sizzling over the Doctor's head and blowing a hole into the wall between compartments. The Cyberman was facing her now and Hegelia realized that she was close enough for it to kill. It reached for the controls on its chest. She closed her eyes and fired again. When next she looked, it was reeling, smoke pouring from its joints. She had hit it. But it wasn't dead yet. It steadied itself and took aim once more. The gun dropped from Hegelia's fingers; her feet were rooted to the spot. She expected to die.

But then the Doctor, temporarily forgotten, directed all of his remaining strength into one last desperate shoulder charge and the Cyberman lost its balance and followed its predecessor into a downward spiral, flames exploding from it like a brilliant orange firework.

When it was all over, Hegelia stared at the mangled, interlocked remains of the creatures and waited for her ears to stop ringing and her heartbeat to resume its normal pace. The Doctor was leaning over the balcony rail, his face flushed with success. 'You see?' he shouted. 'Logic can can breed inefficiency. A human foe would have shot me dead in the first place, without thinking!' breed inefficiency. A human foe would have shot me dead in the first place, without thinking!'

The cyborg creatures were in the building. Madrox could hear their ponderous footsteps reverberating through the metal corridors as they drew closer. His hands were sweating, his shoulders ached and the blaster almost slipped through his fingers, seeming to grow heavier.

The control centre doors had been propped open; he and the remaining three men of Patrol Two had a clear view down the access corridor.

Behind them, the Cybermen waited outside the line of fire. The humans were merely cannon fodder - but any objections would have made their deaths more certain and instant.

They came into sight, then, at last - all six of them, lumbering steadily up the pa.s.sageway with no pretence at caution. Madrox boggled through his sights. In person, they seemed larger, even more imposing, more deadly. For a moment, he didn't have the strength to pull the trigger. But then he remembered the fate of Overseer 2/4 and he obeyed the Cyberleader's instructions. As did his colleagues. As always.

The intruders shook but didn't fall beneath the concentrated onslaught. Madrox was reminded of tales he had heard of the first rebellion; of how the Cybermen had proved resistant to the same weapons. The strength of their casings had been only one factor. The microwave emissions of the guns had been useless against inorganic matter. Madrox's current targets had to have almost as many artificial components as did the Cybermen themselves. He wondered how far Henneker's fanaticism had made him go.

The answering fire, conversely, was instantly fatal. Two Overseers fell, their body armour useless against the blue spears of flame which impaled them. The intruders were almost upon them and Madrox's nerve gave way. He rolled beneath the next volley and scrambled for cover within the control centre. A Cyberman tried to take a bearing on him, but he was too fast - and, within seconds, the cyborgs had arrived and it had more urgent business to contend with.

The Cybermen reacted with their customary efficiency. The Leader's gun was ready; it fired three times into the nearest intruder, which buckled and fell. But others were already retaliating. The Cybermen were obviously affected - if not felled - as jets of fire ripped through them. One of the silver creatures staggered forward, closing the distance until it could use its head-mounted weapon. It fired repeatedly, but its targets were unharmed. It found itself surrounded by three cyborgs and, as Madrox watched, its limbs were torn from it like wings from a fly. The odds were five to two now and he was beginning to realize that the Cybermen may be defeated. Not that it mattered either way. Both sides had reason to kill him. He glanced to where the only other surviving human cowered beneath a console, tears staining his cheeks. They exchanged a brief helpless look.

The Cyberleader had pressed its gun into service again. The already damaged, one-armed attacker fell, giving out a horrendous rattling wail.

But two more copper-coloured cyborgs had managed to close in and seize the deadly weapon, fighting to wrench it from its owner's hands.

The Cyberleader held on and attempted to bring down one of them with its less powerful, in-built gun. The cyborg was beginning to visibly weaken. The other two attackers had concentrated their efforts on the remaining Cyberman. Caught at the intersection of four searing blasts, it held up well for a few seconds before it finally crumpled. White fluid spilled out of its mouth and seeped from its eyes. Madrox found the pitiful display quite painful to watch. He looked away and caught sight of the external monitor - on which he saw another Cyberman approaching.

It was visible for only a moment before pa.s.sing out of the camera's range as it moved into the building proper. Madrox wondered where the creature had come from and concluded that it had to be one of those which had been sent to the rebels' bunker. It would be approaching the control centre, where it would take the invaders unawares.

The Cyberleader's persistence had paid off. Another of its enemies was falling - but the odds were three to one now and the outcome was not in doubt. The sight of Madrox's long-feared paymaster struggling to avoid its inevitable death seemed bizarre. But things were changing on Agora, and Madrox had just one chance to curry favour with the main beneficiaries.

The one-man Cyber cavalry would have the advantage of surprise, but not of numbers. It might inflict some damage, but it surely couldn't overturn its race's defeat. If Madrox was to shout a warning to its foes, he would only be hastening the inevitable, whilst improving his own outlook. Then he had a better idea. The attackers were occupied by their savage dismemberment of the shrieking Cyberleader. The last Cyberman stepped into view at the far end of the approach corridor.

Madrox hefted his Overseer-issue gun and took aim. It was too far away to harm him; he had plenty of time to let off two or three short blasts. They wouldn't damage it much, of course - but his actions would show willing. They might even save his life.

He fired - and the Cyberman staggered. It seemed to be in pain.

Madrox was confused, but he was committed now and his target was moving closer with terrifying speed. He didn't have time to think. He shot it again.

And, to his utter astonishment, the Cyberman fell.

'We've got problems,' said the Doctor.

'The other Cybermen?'

He shook his head, without looking at Hegelia, and continued to tinker with the controls on the main console. 'The people in this chamber,' he said. 'They've already been damaged by the first stage of conversion. They couldn't survive outside their compartments.'

'I see.'

'And I'm afraid there's no way of stopping the process without shutting down life support systems.'

'Then you have two options,' said Hegelia practically. 'You can terminate the lives of almost five hundred people or you can allow as many Cybermen to be born onto this world.'

The Doctor gave her a scathing look. 'I do realize that.'

With the imminent danger having pa.s.sed, Hegelia found her detached interest returning. 'I would be fascinated to hear what your choice is. Do you really believe conversion to be a worse fate than death? And are you prepared to kill on the basis of that belief ?'

A look of anger crossed the Doctor's face and he pounded a fist into the console. He glared at it murderously for a moment, then flicked a few switches, crossed the chamber and began to climb back up onto the balconies.

'What are you doing?' Hegelia asked.

'I've slowed the rate of the process as far as I can,' he said without stopping. 'For now, there's something else to attend to.' He disappeared through the first-level entrance into Population Control.

Left alone, Hegelia surveyed the rows of compartments with a barely suppressed thrill of excitement. Her plan was working.

Madrox was standing, stunned, in the aftermath of battle; in the debris of familiarity. The control centre looked like a mannequin store in a riot. Its floor was strewn with dismembered limbs and twisted artificial bodies. It took some effort to remember that living beings had once inhabited these sh.e.l.ls. A low-level haze hid some of the gory details and gunpowder and blood a.s.sailed Madrox's nostrils.

The attackers stood victorious, albeit with only three of their number remaining. Madrox felt his heart flutter as one stomped towards him.

He shuffled away nervously and almost yelped when it spoke in a horrible, clipped - but somehow familiar - tone. 'Time to pay for your war crimes, Madrox!'

'H-Henneker?'

'No longer. I have the power to punish you for every injustice you have heaped upon our people.'

This time, Madrox did let out a strangulated cry. He tried to retreat further, but was already up against an instrument bank. 'They forced me to do it. I helped you, didn't you see? I shot the last Cyberman. It would have surprised you. It would have -'

The creature which was Henneker started towards him again.

Madrox flung up his arms in an instinctive gesture, only to have both caught, just below the wrists. He stared imploringly into the implacable face of his captor, but felt the pressure of the restraining fists increase all the same. 'Please, don't...' he begged tearfully, but choked back further entreaties as a shooting pain precluded speech. Blood welled between metal fingers, muscles screamed and a bone was dislodged.

Madrox's legs gave way and he would have sunk to his knees but for the cyborg's strength which kept him hoisted. He was going to black out.

Then, for the second time that day, his life was saved by alien intervention. 'If you've quite finished brutalizing a fellow human,'

boomed the strident tones of the Doctor, 'perhaps you would be interested to know that this is all extremely far from over!'

Madrox felt light-headed as Henneker released his grip and allowed the former Chief Overseer to collapse. Through pain-blurred vision, he was aware that the Doctor was scrabbling through the remains of the fallen, until he located the Cyberleader's detached head. Forcing his fingernails into the gap between its face and its earm.u.f.f-like antennae, he tore its frontage away. 'I'm too late,' he grumbled, ripping out a component which pulsed with yellow light. He dropped it, ground it into the floor with his shoe, then turned to Henneker with an urgent expression. 'I don't know what's happened here,' he said, 'but somebody had better explain to me quickly. We have a lot of work to do. We've bested a token force of Cybermen, but their Leader has transmitted details back to base. Within the next few days - or hours, or minutes - we're going to have to deal with reinforcements!'

Madrox sobbed and tried to bury his head in the floor.

10.

Change of Life

ews travelled swiftly, in the way that momentous news will. Not N many believed it at first - but the hopeful few gathered outside Population Control, where the damage caused by the Bronze Knights was discovered. The bravest of them picked her way through the shattered defences, leading a ragged cheer as she announced that the complex had been laid open. Within an hour, the grounds and immediate environs were thronged with colonists, cheeking for themselves before believing. Talk of the Bronze Knights, the world's alleged saviours, was rife; stories varied from the cautious to the implausible. But the spreading mood of optimism was tempered as rumours of Cyber reinforcements circulated.

Dawn's first light had begun to caress the gra.s.s when a Bronze Knight finally emerged from the building, eliciting an appreciative - if somewhat fearful - gasp. Under one arm it carried a box speaker, from which wires ran to its casing. Its voice was amplified by the apparatus, carrying to all.

'You need not fear me. I am the man whom some of you once knew as Ted Henneker. I am also the leader of the Bronze Knights, a newly created cyborg race. We have utilized our enemies' own technology against them - and we have won.'

Max Carter threaded her way through the onlookers, to where the main entrance doors gaped open. Grant leaned heavily against her, out of danger but not yet fully recovered. As Lakesmith had observed, his heart had stopped - but, after tense, breathless moments, Max's CPR had proved successful. Her perseverance set her apart from Cybermen and Knights alike. That worried her. Her own creations would have left Grant for dead, a.n.a.lysing his condition in strictly clinical terms.

'We have won a spectacular victory,' Henneker was announcing as she pa.s.sed. Max nodded towards him, but he didn't return the acknowledgement. His voice drifted after her as she hauled Grant into Population Control. 'We have defeated our oppressors, but there has been a price. Several of our number fell in battle - including Arthur Lakesmith, a hero to whom we owe an incalculable debt.'

Max heard the tidings, but her emotional centre was too weary to react. She trudged on, the spa.r.s.e corridors p.r.i.c.king at mental blisters to release a succession of shielded memories. She tried to ignore them, to forget the horrors of her last visit here.

The route to the control centre was signposted by a trickle of curiosity seekers. Max followed, to find a room packed with the rebels'

allies - and only two surviving Bronze Knights, amidst the remnants of their fellows. Of course, there had to have been deaths, she told her sinking stomach. For that matter, she hadn't seen any sign of the conversion subjects. Had the attack come too late?