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'Doctor!' Grant left Max's side and moved unsteadily towards a tall, fair-haired man with a confident bearing and atrocious dress sense.
Despite his dishevelled appearance and the bruises on his face, he brimmed with vitality. So this was Grant's alien friend, Max thought.
'Oh, it's you,' the Doctor observed dismissively. 'What kept you?'
Grant was visibly taken aback by his abruptness. 'I was injured. I've been unconscious for most of the night.'
'Really? What about the three weeks before that?' He gestured distastefully towards the Bronze Knights. 'Or have you been too busy playing Doctor Frankenstein to spare a thought for my plight?'
'How dare you!' Max exploded, her fury demanding the Doctor's attention. She marched up to him and, to his evident surprise, slapped his face. Her pent-up bitterness, frustration and loss had found a target for release. 'Your friend has been working night and day to help you,'
she raged. 'If it weren't for his input, the Bronze Knights would never have been built, the Cybermen would still be in occupation and you would probably be converted or dead!'
The Doctor recovered his wits and squared up to her, swelling with indignation. 'And you think your Bronze Knights are such an achievement, do you? I call them an abomination!'
'And you would have found a better solution, I suppose?'
'Well, since you ask -'
'You are needed.' Max jumped at Henneker's filtered voice by her ear. He had approached unheard and interrupted without leave. The Doctor had given way, but he regarded the newcomer through hooded eyes, clearly disliking what he saw. Grant had backed off instinctively.
'Our people have been ransacking the complex for raw materials and preparing the Cybermen's laboratories for our purpose. You will be required to manufacture as many Bronze Knights as you are able. We will provide volunteers.'
'They're sending reinforcements, aren't they?' said Max gloomily. She had heard the rumour outside and had known it almost immediately to be true. 'How long before they arrive?'
'We do not know. Begin your task.'
He made to turn, but Max stopped him. 'Wait! What about the prisoners?'
'Irrelevant. You have important things to consider.' Henneker walked away, moving amongst the others and dispensing orders. Max gaped after him. Then, at a loss, she turned to the Doctor, who greeted her with an eyebrow-raised I-told-you-so I-told-you-so expression. expression.
'Just tell me what's happened to them, can't you?' she snapped impatiently, taking Henneker's rudeness as a personal embarra.s.sment.
'My brother was brought in here!'
His att.i.tude changed at a stroke. His face fell and he looked at her with sympathy. Max had thought herself prepared for the worst - but now, a hitherto unsuspected reserve of misery flowed into her heart.
She felt tears p.r.i.c.king at her eyes.
'What's happened?'
Hegelia sat in a comfortable plastic chair, chin supported on steepled fingers. She had retired to this rest area to update her audio notes and to await the right moment to execute the next stage of her plan. At first, then, she was none too pleased to be disturbed by an unexpected visitor. On reflection, though, it would be useful to say a few words to young Jolarr.
'I've been looking for you everywhere,' said the boy, relief apparent.
'When we were separated, I thought...'
Hegelia was almost touched by his concern, but she couldn't allow it to divert her from the matter at hand. I hope you have taken careful note of all that has happened.'
A slight frown creased his white forehead. 'I could hardly forget it, ArcHivist. I was chased by a Cyberman. It nearly killed me.'
Hegelia clapped her hands together. 'Excellent! You have an advantage which I was never afforded, Graduand: early contact with your subject matter. Cherish the memory. No amount of research can ever equal what you have learned on this expedition.'
Jolarr was bewildered. 'You're saying I should study the Cybermen - like you have?'
Hegelia stood now and looked him in the eye. 'Why do you think I brought you here? I am growing old, Graduand; I will not see the Arc Hives again. But my research must proceed. The Cybermen are important, both historically and strategically. n.o.body knows where or when they will rise again - and I believe wholeheartedly that, one day, they will. I need a successor, and I have chosen him: a boy with the intelligence, the ambition and now the experience to continue my work as I would wish it to be continued. I hope you will not do me the dishonour of refusing my request.'
' I . . . no, ArcHivist. I mean, I would be delighted.' He didn't look very happy. His features cycled through an array of expressions, not knowing where to settle. Still, the promise had been elicited. Hegelia was satisfied.
She resumed her usual brisk manner and imparted her final instructions. 'I want you to observe as much as you can, whilst avoiding inordinate danger.' She reached into her cloak and handed him a micro-ca.s.sette. 'When you return, download this into the Cyber Hive and add your own impressions to create a full doc.u.ment. You may not see me again, but if you do - and if you can do so without harm - take my recorder from me. It should contain more useful information.
Questions?'
'You make it sound as if you aren't coming back.'
'Dismissed!' Hegelia made to turn her back on him.
'The time ship,' Jolarr blurted out. 'It's gone!'
She pouted. 'I feared that might happen. I must apologize. It seems my tampering with the navigational circuits has caused the vessel to experience temporal drift. Still, a solution presents itself. You will travel home with the Doctor,' Jolarr nodded dumbly. 'That is all, Graduand.'
He looked as if he wanted to say something, but then he thought better of it. He turned and scuttled out of the room. Hegelia watched him go, then settled back into her seat with a deep sigh.
She had now made provision for her departure. That just left one more person to brief.
The Doctor and Max mounted the final flight of steps to the building's roof, disappearing from Grant's view. He sighed and followed at his own pace, still weak from his close encounter with death. Life wasn't fair. The Bronze Knights had triumphed and the Doctor was free. He had waited three weeks for that. But the threat wasn't over yet and his travelling partner was all but ignoring him. Grant was reminded that he had known the Doctor for only a few days before his capture. His one trip in the TARDIS seemed a long time ago now.
He attained the flat metal roof and saw the spherical c.o.c.kpit of the ship rising up from its centre. Its door lay level with the surface. The Doctor had to be in there. Grant approached, and wondered if the Time Lord had brought him to Agora deliberately to leave him. He prayed not. He felt like a stranger on his own world.
The c.o.c.kpit's interior was almost as dull, grey and functional as that of Population Control. The Cyber ship's vertical orientation caused the viewscreen to be positioned in the concave wall above them, with most of the flight controls. A hatch below vented onto a ladder, which stretched into the ship's rear chamber. The Doctor was standing on the threshold of this, looking into the darkness.
'Is Max down there?' asked Grant, to break the ice.
He nodded. 'The conversion chamber. I sealed off the other entrances. It's safer that way.'
'I hope she finds her brother.'
'Maybe.' The Doctor wrenched his gaze from the gloomy pit. 'Most of the people down there are dead or unconscious, I'm afraid.' He turned to a computer terminal, situated along what would, in flight, have been the ceiling.
'Can I do anything?' asked Grant, as the Doctor began to tap in a series of instructions at lightning speed.
'Make the tea, if you can find any.'
'That's what you said on the Network.'
'You still haven't made any!'
'Look, Doctor... I'm sorry it took me so long to do something. I tried my best.'
The Doctor looked at him with genuine affection. 'I know. Don't worry. I'm used to companions performing last-second saves: It's just that the last second isn't usually so long in coming.'
He returned to his work and Grant, more cheerful now, asked, 'What are you trying to do?'
'Solve a problem. I can't halt the conversion without shutting down the system and to shut down the system would kill everyone in it. Their lungs have been removed, you see. They rely on the machinery to survive.'
'Can you freeze them or something? Stop them from becoming Cybermen till we can work out how to put them back together?'
'That's what I'm doing,' said the Doctor, his tone suggesting surprise that someone else should have thought of it. 'The subjects would have been cryogenically stored once conversion was complete. I've rewired the compartments and reset the controls downstairs; now I can fool the main computer into thinking it's time to pump in the freon. A lot of the subjects won't have the strength to endure revival, but l can at least save some. It's a better solution than that proffered by your friends.'
'What friends?'
'The Bronze Knights. I think Henneker would rather I didn't waste my time on work irrelevant to the war effort. He'd happily shut down the whole chamber and sacrifice everyone. Well... perhaps not happily. That implies a human emotional response.' He shot Grant an accusatory look, which the teenager automatically resented. He was about to say something in his defence, but the Doctor jumped to his feet, announcing, 'A work of pure genius!' and made for the door.
'What about Max?' Grant asked, as they re-emerged onto the roof.
'The hibernation circuits will kick in by stages. She has about half an hour to say what she needs to. I think we'd best leave her to it, don't you?' They were approaching the steps back into the building, but the Doctor groaned and came to a halt as an arched forehead of coppery-red metal hove into view above the parapet. 'Which one are you, then - Happy, Sleepy or Grumpy?'
'I have been searching for you,' said the Bronze Knight, in Henneker's voice. 'Your aid is required. You will help us to improve our design in advance of the Cybermen's attack.'
The Doctor snorted, his response addressed to Grant. 'You see? His one concern is the advancement of his own kind. Who does that bring to mind, offhand?'
'If you can think of a better way of winning this war,' said Henneker, with a hint of annoyance, 'I suggest you offer it.'
'In case you hadn't noticed, I've just finished saving a great many lives. I'm on my way to the control centre now to work on our next most pressing problem.'
'No. You have had time, Doctor. Now you will follow instructions.
If you do not help, you will be considered hostile to our cause.'
'Oh, of course!' the Doctor scoffed. 'Because your word is law now, isn't it, Mr Henneker? By what right do you claim to be better than the Cybermen anyway? You've bullied your people, you've brutalized your captured foes-'
'We have saved Agora from the Cybermen's clutches.'
'And gathered it into your own. I want you to try something for me, Henneker. I want you to show me what the difference really is between you and the Cybermen. I want to see how you react to certain death!'
The Doctor's hand had snaked its way into his pocket. As Grant watched speechlessly, he withdrew it and made to hurl something at Henneker's face. The cyborg reacted with blurring speed. It grabbed his wrist and twisted until the Doctor cried in pain and fell to his knees, his fingers spasming open to reveal an empty palm.
'What was the purpose of your demonstration?' asked Henneker.
'To prove a point,' the Doctor grunted through gritted teeth.
'Admittedly, it backfired somewhat.'
Henneker let him go, and the Doctor rubbed his sore wrist gratefully.
'A work s.p.a.ce is being made ready on the first bas.e.m.e.nt level,' the Bronze Knight said. 'I will expect both of you, plus Maxine Carter, to report there in twenty minutes.' He turned and lumbered back down the steps. The Doctor glared after him as he got to his feet. Grant could see red finger-marks on his skin.
'Is that what you've allied yourself with?' the Doctor spat. 'Is that your proud creation?' Grant couldn't answer.
Max had reappeared in the ship's hatchway. One look at her face told Grant that her news wasn't good. Both men fell silent as she approached, arms wrapped about herself, quivering slightly. Her face was smudged, as if she had been crying but had tried to hide the evidence. 'I found Martin,' she said sniffily. 'He's unconscious. I can't wake him.'
'It was to be expected,' said the Doctor gently.
Then Max turned to Grant and, despite her own sadness, he saw compa.s.sion in her eyes. 'But some of them are still awake in there,' she said. 'And... somebody's asking for you.'
Hegelia walked sedately towards the cell block, unchallenged by either the frenetically active followers of Henneker or by the single Bronze Knight which clanked past her as she circ.u.mvented the control centre.
She turned to watch the creature as it receded into the distance. It was but a pallid reflection of a Cyberman, but still it interested her. If she was given the opportunity later, she might congratulate its builders. For now, her sights were set on the main prize.
The defeated Overseers had been herded into the top-floor cells, well out of the way. Hegelia found one on her first try. The black-uniformed man stared out from the tiny room, eyes red, hair wild. 'Are they going to kill me?' She ignored the bleated question. She closed and locked the viewing hatch. He was not the one she wanted.
She moved down the row, glancing into each cell, until she found him. Madrox had folded himself into a blubbering heap, the sight of which disgusted her. 'Get on your feet, man!' she ordered. His shaking stopped and he cautiously peered out from under his arms. 'I said, get on your feet! Do you intend to surrender so easily?'
'Can - can you get me out of here?' Madrox's tone was imploring. He tried to stand, but collapsed onto his backside and fell against the wall, where he stayed. Hegelia saw that his face was bruised, his uniform torn and his lower left leg was twisted at a painful angle. The Bronze Knights had not been merciful.
'Not yet,' she answered, 'but I believe that, once again, we can work to each other's advantage. You do realize that Cyber reinforcements are heading towards this planet?'
'No good,' he said, voice straining with the effort of keeping his pain in check. 'I failed them. They'll kill me.'
'Not if you achieve what their own troops could not. Not if you can get into their ship and restart the conversion process. Not if you can unleash five hundred new Cybermen upon the colonists. Their victory would be inevitable then - and you would be the man to thank. Your life, and your position as Chief Overseer, would be safe.'