Doctor Who: Last of the Gaderene: 50th Anniversary Edition

by Mark Gatiss

  The Doctor held up the crystalline key and turned it around and around in the light.

  ‘What exactly does that thing do, Doctor?’ asked Jo.

  ‘I thought I’d explained.’

  Jo grunted. ‘Hardly.’

  The sound of gunfire and smashing bottles filtered in as the Doctor adopted the tone of a teacher explaining a very hard sum to a very dense child.

  ‘It’s a matter transference encoder. Probably one of many. They need it to travel to Earth from wherever they’re based.’

  Jo frowned. ‘If they’ve got some already, why would they be after this one?’

  The Doctor weighed the key in his hand. ‘Very good question.’

  ‘So we’re presuming they don’t have space ships or anything? Like the Daleks?’

  The Doctor nodded. ‘It seems likely. They must have to travel an unimaginable distance. Perhaps even…’

  His voice trailed off and he stared into space.

  ‘Doctor?’

  ‘I was just thinking. Remember what Mrs Toovey said about the lightning. Summer lightning. That could have been these creatures arriving.’

  He tapped the jade key against his chin thoughtfully.

  ‘Arriving in… embryonic form. They could pass safely through space without all the requisite encoders being in place… but they would need them all. Eventually.’

  ‘What for?’ said Jo.

  The Doctor’s expression was grave. ‘For the adults to come through.’

  Jo looked down and then quickly around. ‘Where - where’s Noah?’

  In the hangar, Bliss was anxiously watching the line of VIPs she had gathered. They were lying flat on sleek black surgical tables, blanketed and grinning.

  She checked on Cochrane, Secretary of Defence, feeling his pulse and frowning.

  ‘The breakthrough must be soon,’ she muttered to herself.

  Bliss rubbed a hand over her face. A shape beneath the skin shifted.

  ‘These human shells are weak.’ She turned her fat face up towards the ceiling. Her great dark eyes blinked slowly as though she were gazing through space.

  Then she laid a hand on Cochrane’s forehead. He was tossing and turning restlessly, as though agitated.

  ‘Not long now, my friends,’ whispered Bliss, looking down at the row of people. ‘And then you will have new homes. Warm homes.’

  Sergeant Benton stood by the window of the boxroom on the upper floor of Whistler’s cottage. He hoped against hope that his men’s ongoing battle with the Culverton villagers had given the Brigadier a chance to attack the aerodrome, but there had been no word from his superior for almost half an hour.

  Peering through the window, he saw the disorientated villagers beginning to stir.

  The Doctor had warned him that the nitrous oxide gas would provide only temporary anaesthesia, but they seemed to be making a remarkably speedy recovery. Benton was about to order Private Dodds downstairs to tell the Doctor when he noticed something strange.

  Ted Bishop had recovered and was standing stock-still only yards from Whistler’s cottage. His brother was next to him in a similar pose.

  Benton swallowed anxiously. He pointed his rifle directly at Ted Bishop’s face.

  ‘What’re they doing?’ asked Dodds, lowering his gun a fraction.

  Benton shook his head. ‘I’ve really no idea. Maybe the Doctor can –’

  He stopped dead as a figure emerged from the shadows outside.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Benton quietly.

  The Master positioned himself between the Bishop brothers and put his hands behind his back.

  ‘Doctor!’ he called. ‘Doctor, if you’re in there, I’d like a word.’

  Benton trained his rifle on the Master. ‘Now you know not to try anything silly,’ he shouted from the window.

  The Master looked up and smiled.

  The door of the cottage opened and the Doctor came out, shrugging on his smoking jacket. He caught sight of the suave, bearded figure just ahead and grunted.

  ‘Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.’

  The Master smiled affably. ‘How nice to see you again, Doctor. Do you know, I think I’ve actually missed you.’

  The Doctor’s face was serious. ‘I wish I could say the same.’

  Jo came out behind the Doctor and quietly closed the cottage door behind her.

  ‘You’re working for these creatures, I take it?’ said the Doctor.

  The Master inclined his head a fraction.

  ‘Dear me.’ The Doctor rubbed his chin. ‘Always the bridesmaid, never the blushing bride. How does it feel always to be someone else’s lackey?’

  The Master bristled. ‘As the Brigadier’s pet monkey, I should think you’re better placed to answer that, my dear Doctor.’

  The Doctor glared at him. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘The encoder, of course.’

  The Doctor avoided his gaze. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Don’t play games with me. I don’t have time.’

  The Doctor looked around. ‘For once you seem to have forgotten to surround yourself with thugs. Your threats don’t seem entirely persuasive.’

  The Master dropped his hands. Benton’s finger tightened on the trigger.

  ‘Despite your amusing efforts, Doctor, these people are still quite capable of killing. They will do my bidding. If I order them to attack, they will do so. Do you really want your soldier friends to cut them to pieces?’

  The Doctor considered this. ‘Well, exchange is no robbery. I may give you the encoder… if you’ll give me information.’

  The Master inclined his head to one side. ‘Go on.’

  The Doctor pulled the crystalline key from his coat pocket and tossed it into the air, catching it deftly a moment later. ‘These creatures. Who are they?’

  The Master kept his eyes on the key, twitching slightly as the Doctor toyed with it. ‘They are the Gaderene,’ he stated. ‘They came to Earth some thirty years ago and… marked it.’

  The Doctor frowned. ‘Marked it?’

  ‘Like a cat marking its territory,’ said Jo quietly.

  The Master nodded. ‘A crude analogy, Miss Grant, but essentially correct. Two of them arrived in embryonic form. They had this planet down as a useful fall-back should anything unforeseen occur.’

  ‘And what happened?’ asked the Doctor.

  ‘Something unforeseen occurred. Their world is dying. I managed to get them back in touch with their nearest and dearest. They need a new home.’

  The Doctor set his face into a stern frown. ‘But this planet is occupied already. They can’t just be allowed to… move in.’

  ‘Oddly enough, Doctor, that’s not the way they see it. They do not intend to ask the human race politely to leave. They intend to… ah… what is the modern parlance?’

  ‘Squat?’ said Jo.

  ‘Squat,’ replied the Master. ‘Yes. And now, if you’ll hand over the encoder, I shall help them get on with it.’

  The Doctor regarded him steadily. ‘You know I can’t allow that.’

  The Master sighed. ‘Good old Doctor. Always so tiresomely fair.’

  He clicked his fingers and two of the recovered villagers appeared, dragging Noah between them.

  Jo cried out in horror.

  The Master picked up an abandoned UNIT pistol and pointed it at Noah who was now crouching at his father’s feet. ‘Don’t move!’ he commanded, glaring at Benton on the upper floor. ‘Get up, boy. Move here, next to me.’

  Reluctantly Noah did so. The Master tugged at his arm and pressed the cold barrel of the pistol to Noah’s cheek. ‘Now, Doctor, the encoder. Or this boy dies.’

  The Doctor thought at once of General Gogon. He wasn’t about to go through all that again. He glanced towards the horizon, as though expecting a distant pyrotechnical display to distract the Master. Nothing happened. He stepped forward.

  ‘Doctor!’ called Jo.

  The Doctor glanced back a
t her. ‘I’ve little choice.’

  He threw the key to the Master who caught it in one black-gloved hand. ‘Thank you, Doctor.’

  The Master pushed the barrel of the pistol further into Noah’s cheek.

  The boy whimpered. Suddenly he seemed very young indeed.

  ‘You know, I seem to remember we had a little falling out, you and I. Back at the Academy,’ mused the Master, as though he were at a summer garden party. ‘That was about not keeping my word. I told you then and I’m telling you now, you must be more realistic, Doctor. You’re too trusting.’

  The smile on his face melted away. He pocketed the jade encoder and backed away, motioning with the gun for Noah to follow.

  ‘Now!,’ he yelled. ‘Kill them! Kill them all!’

  The villagers rushed forward, mouths wide open, a horrible, gurgling roar escaping from their possessed bodies.

  In the confusion, the Master took to his heels, dragging Noah behind him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  SCRAMBLE

  Bliss stepped over the body of Captain McGarrigle and, in silence, picked up the eight encoders from the desk. The time for the transference was rapidly approaching. The embryos within her swine would have to be released in order to make way for the adult Gaderene. The timing was critical but Bliss felt nerveless as she turned on her heel, left the office and walked swiftly towards the runway. This was the moment she had waited for.

  ‘Fall back! Fall back!’ screamed Sergeant Benton as the villagers smashed and hammered at the cottage door.

  He raced down the stairs to find the Doctor and Jo heading for the kitchen.

  ‘I’ve got no choice but to fire on them, Doctor!’

  The Doctor nodded. ‘I suggest we head for the aerodrome, Sergeant. We’ve done all we can. Any word from the Brigadier?’

  Benton shook his head.

  ‘All right,’ said the Doctor. ‘I suggest you and your men fan out from the back of the cottage and head up there on foot. You’ll be less conspicuous and, anyway, I think they’ll be more interested in me.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Jo.

  ‘Because,’ said the Doctor, ‘I intend to go up there in a rather more ostentatious form of transport.’

  Jo’s jaw dropped. ‘Not the Spitfire?’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘But you can’t! I mean…’ stammered Jo.

  The Doctor shrugged. ‘Why not? I admit I’m a bit out of practice but we have to get Noah away from the Master and stop the Gaderene. We need every weapon at our disposal. Besides, it’ll be good to go back up in one of those old crates. I haven’t flown a Spitfire since 2154!’

  So saying, he strode through the kitchen, pausing only to pick up the remaining bottles of nitrous oxide, and made his way into the garden.

  Benton shook his head and began to shout orders up the stairs to his men. Jo raced after the Doctor.

  He spoke to her over his shoulder as they approached the tarpaulin-covered aircraft. ‘If I’m right, Jo, then the Gaderene’s grip on Earth is precarious to say the least.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well they only have the embryonic forms inside the villagers. They’re no good for anything much except brute force. No, if they’re to exert real control, they need the adults to come through.’

  ‘And for that they need the Wing Commander’s encoder?’

  The Doctor nodded.

  ‘But what about Bliss?’ queried Jo. ‘She seems completely in control of things.’

  The Doctor shrugged. ‘From what the Master says she must have been one of the original two who landed here. Some luckless soul became host to her but it’s taken all these years for the creature to mature. It’s more than just occupying a body. It’s become her.’

  Jo looked back towards the cottage. ‘So the Master helped them set up a… a bridge between their world… their dying world and Earth?’

  ‘That’s right, Jo. There must be something special about this area. Perhaps because it was the original landing point.’

  ‘And they had to send embryos because they’re young… mindless?’ said Jo.

  The Doctor nodded and began to pull at the tarpaulin. ‘The link wasn’t properly established, so only embryos could stand the trip unscathed.’

  Jo blanched. ‘But now the Master has the final key. They’ll be able to mount a full invasion.’

  ‘Unless we can stop them,’ said the Doctor gravely.

  He pulled at the hood of the cockpit and dragged it over, then jumped up on to the wing and swung his legs inside.

  ‘Hey, Doctor!’ cried Jo. ‘You’re not leaving me here!’

  ‘No choice, Jo. These things were only built for one.’

  He loaded the milk bottles into the cramped space at his feet. ‘You stick with Benton. You’ll be fine. I’ll see you up there.’

  He pulled out his pencil torch and pointed the beam at the instrument panel. After a moment, his hands raced over the dials and switches and the aircraft’s old engine thrummed into life.

  Benton and his men appeared at the back door of the cottage.

  ‘Just the chap!’ called the Doctor over the Spitfire’s roar. ‘Jo, I need help starting the propeller.’

  Jo gave a rapid thumbs-up sign and signalled for Benton to join her. He raced across the lawn and yelled orders for Dodds and Fisher to open the gate at the far end of the garden which led on to the road.

  The Doctor paused before closing the hood over him.

  ‘Chocks away!’ he yelled and then motioned to Benton to start the fighter’s propeller.

  After two or three spins, the propeller sputtered into noisy life. The blades raced round in a whirl, flashing white in the moonlight.

  Almost at once, the plane began to shunt forward over the grass. The Doctor smiled and waved as he powered the Spitfire past Jo and Benton, manoeuvring carefully so that the wings just missed the posts of the now-open gate.

  As he moved on to the road and prepared for take-off, the possessed villagers finally broke through into the house and began to stream into the garden.

  Benton let loose a volley of shots over their heads and grabbed Jo by the elbow.

  ‘Come on, miss. Time we weren’t here!’

  They raced through the gate and on to the road, followed by the rest of Benton’s troops just as the Spitfire powered down the empty road. With a whining roar it soared into the sky, banking to the left almost at once.

  ‘Good luck, Doctor,’ said Jo quietly.

  ‘Don’t worry, miss,’ said Benton as they ran over the road and into the fields beyond. Once the Brig and the Doctor get through, we’ll take the aerodrome in no time.’

  Jo nodded, casting an anxious glance over her shoulder at the pursuing villagers. ‘That may be true, Sergeant,’ she gasped, breathlessly. ‘But you’re forgetting something.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘The creature in the marsh,’ said Jo.

  Charles Cochrane MP woke with a very sore throat. He leant forward on the black table he found himself upon and retched. There was blood in his saliva and the sight of it made him properly sick. He stared at the pool of vomit on the hard concrete floor and then lay back, his head swimming. He had no idea where he was and all kinds of theories, from kidnapping to some Fleet Street scandal, raced through his mind. He reached down and felt himself all over to make sure he was all in one piece, fully clothed and not – heaven forfend – wearing women’s underwear. Assured on all three counts, he breathed a sigh of relief and risked a glance to his left.

  He appeared to be in some kind of aircraft hangar. It was old and very dusty but there were about two dozen more tables arranged along the wall. On each lay a person. Some were asleep. Others seemed to be recovering like himself. Most had some kind of disgusting animal lying on their chests or close by. Cochrane shuddered and then looked down. A semitransparent creature with a segmented tail and round, pitch-black eyes like a shrimp’s was tucked up by his side.

  He screamed and k
nocked it to the floor. It landed with a wet slap. Quite dead.

  Hauling himself up on to his elbows, Cochrane peered along the line of his fellow inmates. He recognised most of them. There was at least one other Cabinet member. And surely that was the Strangeways, the Chief of Staff?

  He was about to open his mouth when the door swung open and a large, heavily built woman marched inside.

  ‘Madam,’ cried Cochrane indignantly. ‘Would you kindly explain what on earth is going on?’

  Bliss’s face, still fixed in its perpetual smile, was nevertheless chilling. She didn’t answer. Instead, she took a large black canister from her pocket and twisted a silver knob on its end. There was a sibilant hiss and gas began to flood the room.

  Cochrane felt his head swimming again. He tried to get up from the table but his legs seemed to turn to water beneath him. His last recollection before he slipped into unconsciousness was the door opening again and a bearded man striding inside, dragging a boy behind him and holding some kind of crystal aloft. The man was grinning triumphantly.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  DESPERATE MEASURES

  The Brigadier and Yates sat in the cabin of the leading UNIT truck. The remaining two were directly behind, having driven some five hundred yards or so back down the Culverton road, away from the aerodrome.

  ‘Right,’ said the Brigadier. ‘Get this transport turned round. We’ll give it a couple if minutes and then we’ll storm the place.’

  Yates looked worried. ‘And if we hit the civilians, sir?’

  The Brigadier’s mouth set into a thin line. ‘Then we hit the civilians, Captain. The Doctor’s explained just how dangerous these creatures are. We have to do whatever it takes to get in there and stop them.’

  Yates nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’

  He reached down and put the truck into reverse. Within moments it was facing back towards the aerodrome.

  The Brigadier nodded his approval. ‘Now they’ve seen us retreat in force. The last thing they’ll expect is one of our trucks to come back. We have to drive through them, if necessary.’

  Yates gave a solemn nod and reached for the gear lever. To his surprise, the Brigadier leant over and stopped him.