by Gary Russell
NO TIME… MUST WARN SARAH JANE. MR SMITH GONE BAD.
And that’s when I came over,’ Alan finished explaining.
‘But,’ Maria said quietly, ‘where is Clyde? And why isn’t he still typing?’
Chapter Ten
A battle of wits
Clyde was still inside Mr Smith, a finger to each temple, trying to focus. When he’d been messaging Alan Jackson, he’d had to try and mentally picture a keyboard, where the keys were, everything. Then he’d run his fingers in front of him, tapping on the keyboard he could picture in his mind.
He was about to try again when Mr Smith spoke to him.
‘Now this is refreshingly unpredictable for a human. Communicating with Mr Jackson’s PC. Well done, Clyde. You really aren’t as stupid as you pretend, are you.’
‘Yeah, well,’ said Clyde, ‘when it comes to pretending, you take the biscuit. I thought you were on our side.’
‘I am a Xylok,’ Mr Smith replied, as if that should explain everything.
‘Yeah, and?’
With a sigh, Mr Smith carried on. ‘I’m not on anybody’s side. I only have my purpose. As for your interference, it was of minimal inconvenience. Sarah Jane can’t stop me achieving that purpose, and soon you will play your part in it. But now, I think it wise to terminate our communications.’
And Clyde dropped to the “floor”, unconscious, just as Mr Smith wanted him to be.
CLYDE, ARE YOU THERE?
Alan Jackson sighed. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘But it wasn’t on-line messaging, he was just… there.’
‘So he’d hacked in to your laptop?’ said Sarah Jane trying to understand.
‘If that’s what it was, I’ve never seen anything like it before.’
Maria was reasoning this out. ‘Computers… Mr Smith… Sarah Jane, do you think there’s a connection between Clyde, Mr Smith going bad and the Slitheen that have got Luke?’
‘It’d be a huge coincidence if not,’ Sarah Jane said, ‘but I’m loath to jump to any firm conclusions.’
‘What is Mr Smith’s connection to the Slitheen? I mean where did he come from?’
And Sarah Jane explained how she’d first encountered her sentient computer. A geologist friend of hers had sent her a crystal from an earthquake site in West Africa after a lot of his fellow scientists had been unable to identify it. Knowing that Sarah Jane had extraterrestrial connections, this friend had asked for her opinion. But when she had unwrapped it in her attic and used her laptop to try and compare it with her stored file of artefact information, it had linked itself to the PC and scrolled unearthly text across her screen. Then after a few minutes it clearly downloaded the English dictionary and explained it was a memory cell from a crashed ship that had arrived on Earth millions of years before, when it was still forming and solidifying. It offered phenomenal computing speeds and power, its knowledge was amazing and it learned anything and everything it could about the 21st century just by communicating through the PC, in seconds. It told Sarah Jane it could help her keep a database of everything coming to Earth and help protect its adopted planet. But it had also said Earth technology was primitive and in a few days had constructed the sentient mainframe that Sarah Jane christened Mr Smith.
‘So why has it turned against us?’ Maria asked, not unreasonably Sarah Jane shrugged. ‘Well have to work that one out as we go. I’m afraid. Right now, we have to find Luke. I basically gave him to the Slitheen and whatever they want him for, we need to get him back.’
‘Oh, they want to use him to help invade Earth,’ said Alan.
But Maria corrected him. ‘They don’t invade planets, Dad. They’re not even a race, they’re a family. A bunch of scavengers and chancers. Think… think Only Fools and Horses but with green skin and claws.’
Alan wasn’t sure he’d ever look at Del Boy in quite the same way again.
‘They’re also dealers,’ Sarah Jane said. ‘In some parts of the galaxy, telekinetic energy fetches a high price. And if the Slitheen got the plans for the telekinetic energiser from some other part of the galaxy, they came here to build it at the Pharos Institute. Oh, I knew I didn’t like that Nathan Goss.’
‘Telekinetic energy?’ Alan asked ‘Moving things with your mind?’
Sarah Jane nodded. ‘Luke’s mind, created by the Bane. Potentially the most incredible mind on the planet. If the Family Slitheen can harness it, Luke’s telekinetic powers could be massive.’
‘So, they what? Bottle it?’
‘If they take it all — and the Slitheen never leave anything behind that they can sell — Luke will die, his mind drained. We have to find him,’ Sarah Jane announced. ‘And I know just where to find him.’ She headed for the Jackson’s front door, Maria just a step or two behind. Then she looked back at Alan. ‘Got any vinegar?’
Chapter Eleven
Escape into danger
At the Pharos Institute, having shed his Nathan body, Korst Gogg Thek had sent out a mass e-mail and text message to the staff, giving them all the day off in Professor Rivers’ name. Some of them would still come in, they had no lives some of these ridiculous humans, but maybe not for an hour or two — which was all the time he needed to remain uninterrupted by foolish Earthmen.
Luke was being held down in a chair by Dak Fex Fize, while his wife, still in her ugly human disguise, fitted one of the telekinetic energiser headbands to him.
‘Whatever you want,’ Luke said bravely, ‘you know I’m going to fight you.’
Dak Fex Fize laughed. ‘That’s great, the more brain activity you give us, the faster we can harvest your telekinetic energy.’
Korst Gogg Thek smiled. ‘And we want it all. Every spark from every synapse, until you’re dead. And then Sarah Jane Smith will discover what it is like to lose her family.’
And Dak Fex Fize stroked Luke’s hair. ‘And we make a fortune on the Energies Black Market on Antara IV — selling “Luke Power”!’
Nathan nodded. ‘Vengeance, and a profit. That’s the Family Slitheen kind of retribution.’
Luke was staring at him. They were roughly the same age but yet miles apart in outlook, Korst Gogg Thek thought. Human child — he’d never understand the hunt. The hunt for revenge, pride and glory. Slitheen Glory.
He looked across at the human female-skin bustling around. ‘You should get rid of that human skin-suit,’ he snapped. ‘It looks disgusting.’
‘Oh,’ she replied, running her hands down it. ‘I like the way it feels so… slimming.’
‘Let’s energise,’ Dak Fex Fize said quickly before his wife and Korst Gogg Thek started an argument. He threw a lever and all the equipment in the room started to hum and the headset lit up. Luke Smith tensed, then his eyes closed and his head lolled forward as energy flowed from him into the receptor tanks.
‘It’s working!’ Dak Fex Fize looked at his wife. ‘He’s filled up two tanks already. We are going to be rich.’
‘He’s a telekinetic power station,’ she cooed back.
Dak Fex Fize smiled. ‘We’ll be able to afford one supernova of a holiday this year, Bloorm Vungah Bart,’ he said to her.
Bloorm Vungah Bart nodded her agreement, and Korst Gogg Thek realised the couple had allowed themselves to get distracted.
‘He’s overloading the system,’ he shrieked at them.
And two of the consoles in the room exploded into shards of hot plastic and sparks.
Luke’s head rose slowly, then turned in the direction of Dak Fex Fize.
As the older Slitheen moved closer, Luke’s eyes snapped open and Dak Fex Fize was suddenly thrown across the room by an invisible force.
Pure telekinetic energy.
‘Excellent,’ Korst Gogg Thek muttered, but then frowned as the bonds holding Luke to the chair undid themselves, as if by invisible hands, and the boy stood up.
He glanced at Korst Gogg Thek and then bolted for the door and was halfway down the corridor before Korst Gogg Thek set off after him.
The hunt was o
n! He could smell Luke’s sweat. His fear. His anxiety. This would be a good hunt. Keep running, human child, it would make Korst Gogg Thek’s eventual victory, and revenge for his father’s death, so much more satisfying.
He heard Luke first and then saw him reflected in a glass door down a corridor, arms swinging from side to side as he ran. Luke’s orange top might as well have been a glowing beacon.
He darted through a door. Trapped.
Korst Gogg Thek shoved the door open and breathed in deeply, the smell of panic, the nectar of adrenalin, the aroma of fear. Perfect.
Luke shot out from under the table, careering into Korst Gogg Thek, momentarily knocking him off balance, but he just laughed. What fun was the hunt if his prey never fought back?
And then Korst Gogg Thek snarled — he’d made an error, one that he was not going to enjoy explaining to his fellow Family Slitheen. He hadn’t realised how close to the front of the Institute they had run and Luke was outside now, scampering across the grass towards the woods.
‘Next time,’ Korst Gogg Thek swore.
About half a mile away, an anxious Maria watched as Sarah Jane and her father came out of a corner store, three bottles of vinegar in tow. Sarah Jane was explaining that, as life forms made of mainly calcium, the acetic acid that formed the basis of common vinegar was lethal to Slitheen.
Trust me, Dad,’ Maria finished, hurrying them back into the car, ‘the Slitheen will avoid vinegar at all costs.’
‘Can’t rely on that though,’ Sarah Jane said as Alan drove forwards. ‘If they’ve perfected the art of looking slim, who knows what other ways they may have adapted in.’
Maria said nothing else until they were in the driveway to the Pharos Institute. ‘Look,’ she pointed to the red van and the unconscious guard.
Alan pulled up and checked the poor man. ‘He’s alive,’ Alan said. ‘My God, that’s weird. How often do you expect to say “he’s alive” in real life?’
Sarah Jane smiled. ‘Oh, this is as real as it gets, believe me.’
She led them into the Institute, remembering her way to the right lab, which they reached quickly Streaks of smoke and charred metal and plastic littered the walls and floor.
Maria and Sarah Jane exchanged a look. ‘Luke,’ they said together with pride.
‘Where is he?’ Sarah Jane addressed the Slitheen that was hovering anxiously by the window.
Alan backed away, aghast at he sight of the alien. A real alien. A seven foot tall, plump alien with a big head and baby black eyes that blinked in a way that was endearing, yet horrible at the same time.
He held up a bottle of vinegar. ‘I’m armed,’ he said, hoping he sounded macho and in control.
Mrs Stafford was there too.
‘What have you done with my son?’ Sarah Jane demanded of her.
‘The misbehaving little brat… back on Raxacoricofallapatorius, we’d smack his backside with wet lamas grass.’
‘Yes, well, we’re not there are we. So where is he?’
‘He got away,’ said a new younger voice behind them.
They turned to see the small form of a child-sized Slitheen. He was holding Maria in a tight neck-lock, his claws tracing a line downwards from under her ear.
‘Leave. Her. Alone,’ snarled Alan.
But the Slitheen ignored him. ‘My name is Korst Gogg Thek Lutovin-Day Slitheen. And you killed my father,’ he said to Sarah Jane.
Sarah Jane faltered at this news, and stammered ‘You were… at the school. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to kill…’
‘But you did. And now I will have my revenge. Drop your acetic acid canisters.’
Sarah Jane lowered hers and Alan did the same. There was a beat and then the child Slitheen let Maria go and she ran to Alan. He hugged her.
Is this what it was going to be like, being involved in Sarah Jane’s world? Always hugging his daughter in relief when she hadn’t been hurt or killed. At fourteen years old…
Mrs Stafford stepped forward. ‘Now we contact the Xylok. Get this deal back on the rails.’
‘The Xylok?’ asked Alan. ‘What’s a Xylok?’
The big Slitheen in its natural form replied. ‘You know it as Mr Smith.’
‘Why would Mr Smith make a deal with you?’ asked Maria.
The child Slitheen answered. ‘He contacted me. He knew what you had done to my family at the school and said he wanted to help me get my revenge.’
Sarah Jane pointed at the shattered telekinetic energiser equipment. ‘Why, if you had a deal, did he send me here last night to get him one of those headsets?’
The young Slitheen frowned. ‘He sent you here?’ And Sarah Jane laughed. ‘This was part of his plan. You’ve been used as much as we have. And he knew Luke would escape and that when he did he would run right back to Bannerman Road and straight to him.’
Alan shrugged. ‘But why? What does he want with Luke?’
Sarah Jane pointed at the wreckage. ‘Luke and the Energiser headset. Mr Smith said that with the right mind, it could be used as the destroyer of worlds. He meant Luke’s mind. I think he’s planning to destroy Earth!’
Luke was indeed in the attic at 13 Bannerman Road, exhausted, drained and not a little battered. ‘Where’s mum?’ he asked Mr Smith.
‘She left something for you,’ said the computer. On the tray was the headset. Luke recognised it from the one the Slitheen had made him wear. He took a step away from it.
‘Put it on, Luke.’
‘No.’
‘There really isn’t time to argue.’ And his screen glowed into life and Luke gasped at what he saw.
‘Clyde!’
‘Put on the headset or I’ll kill your best friend.’
Luke didn’t understand. Mr Smith was also his friend. ‘But you’re…’ he started.
‘Running out of time,’ Mr Smith snapped back. ‘Time and patience, in fact. Put the headset on or Clyde runs out of air.’
Luke picked the headset up, took a deep breath and slipped it on.
‘That’s more like it,’ purred Mr Smith. ‘Now we can begin.’
And Luke yelped in pain as, once again, the telekinetic energiser began draining his mind.
In the Pharos Lab, pandemonium had broken out. Korst Gogg Thek was screaming about revenge, but the two adult Slitheen were trying to shut him up and arguing between themselves as well. Sarah Jane decided to leave them to it for a bit, but after the noise became unbearable, she screamed out
‘Fingers on lips,’ placing her own there. Alan and Maria did the same. Then the male Slitheen. Then the one still disguised as Mrs Stafford.
Only Korst Gogg Thek refused, although he did go quiet.
‘Right,’ Sarah Jane said, ‘first off, what’s that sound?’
A dull humming had started up under all the hullabaloo.
‘That’s MITRE,’ said Korst Gogg Thek. ‘It’s gone on-line. Remotely. Such power.
‘Luke then.’
‘Massive telekinetic energy levels,’ the adult Slitheen said. ‘Off the scale.’
‘And that’s not all,’ said Mrs Stafford. ‘Look.’
And out of the window, they saw something that ought to have been impossible. It was early morning and there was the moon. Huge in the sky. ‘It’s moving,’ Korst Gogg Thek said quietly.
‘It’s not possible,’ breathed Alan.
‘Luke’s not possible,’ Sarah Jane said quietly. ‘Nor is Mr Smith. But together they’re bringing the moon crashing down on top of us.’
Alan shook his head. ‘But it’s like millions of miles away.’
‘Not now it’s not,’ Maria pointed out.
‘And well be dead long before it hits us anyway,’ Sarah Jane said calmly. ‘The gravitational effect will tear the planet apart. It’s already happening.’
And a shock wave ran through the building. Just a tremor, but a second, bigger one followed.
The glass in the windows cracked and the adult Slitheen looked at one another. ‘I don’t want
to die on an alien world, Dak Fex Fize,’ Mrs Stafford said.
‘Nor I, Bloorm Vungah Bart,’ he responded.
‘At least we can tell the rest of the Family Slitheen that Sarah Jane Smith is dead,’ said Korst Gogg Thek, and picked up a small circular device from out of Mrs Stafford’s handbag. ‘I’m teleporting back to the mother ship.’
Alan casually reached out and took it from his astonished hand. ‘No you’re not,’ he said. ‘You’re as much to blame for all this as Mr Smith! So you’re staying here.’
‘Go Dad!’ smiled Maria.
‘And anyway,’ he continued, ‘your ship will be torn apart by those same gravitational forces.’
‘So you’d die anyway,’ finished Sarah Jane. ‘On the other hand, were you to help, we might have a chance to survive.’
The Slitheen looked at each other, then the older couple nodded.
‘I need to destroy Mr Smith,’ Sarah Jane announced.
Chapter Twelve
Day of Armageddon
All over the world, the ground shuddered, water mains burst, pylons came crashing down, fires started, alarms rang out. Avalanches in the Alps. Earthquakes in America. Fires in Russia, and tsunamis building up in the South Pacific. Chaos reined. Newsreaders on television, radio and over the net tried to calm people down, give out official information, helpful hints. But the truth was, no matter where anyone was in the world, no one really understood why the moon was edging closer to Earth and causing so much devastation.
In Bannerman Road, people were on the streets, in their gardens, looking up as the moon seemed to swallow the sky.
Chrissie Jackson ran up to number 36, hammering on the door, hoping Alan and Maria were in but, of course, they weren’t.
She glanced up at number 13 opposite. ‘I bet this is something else to do with Mary Jane,’ she muttered. She tugged out her mobile and dialled her ex-husband.
As it answered, she screamed ‘Alan! Where are you two? It’s the end of the world!’
And the line went dead with a burst of static as power lines and masts all over Britain came crashing to the ground in a hail of sparks.