Donna looked around at the array of red-lit faces and saw shock, fear, dejection.
In a bitter voice Gopal said, ‘When the cave is full, Darac-7 will ship these people to where the Hive Council are creating their secret army, and then he will use his gelem warriors to harvest more. As long as the Hive Council keep paying him, the harvest will continue.’
Donna thought of the way the Ood had been treated on the Ood-Sphere. This was just as sickening. She was about to say so when Cameron cried, ‘I can see Mother and Father and Becharji! And Ronny and Adelaide! Look!’
He was pointing to the right, almost jumping up and down in his excitement. Even amongst all these people, the Campbells were not too difficult to spot. They were standing in a close-knit group, whereas almost everyone else was sitting, added to which they were dressed differently to most of the people around them.
Cameron’s high-pitched voice must have carried down to the cavern below, because all at once Donna saw people looking up, pointing at them. The low buzz of chatter, barely discernible before above the crackling hum of the barrier, now rose in volume as news of their presence spread through the crowd.
‘We’ve been spotted,’ Donna said. ‘We’d better go and let ’em all out before they start thinking we’re the ones who trapped ’em here.’
They picked their way down the final rubbly slope to the base of the cavern. There was a surge in the crowd as people moved forward to meet them.
Word must have filtered back to the Campbells that Cameron was there because, by the time they reached the bottom of the slope, Ronny was shouldering his way to the front of the crowd, closely followed by Adelaide, his parents and Becharji.
‘What in Heaven’s name are you doing here?’ Ronny asked in astonishment.
Cameron grinned. ‘We’re rescuing you.’
‘Stand back,’ Donna said, holding up the sonic. ‘This thing’s loaded.’
Hoping that setting 59-A would work not only on the glamour but on the barrier too, she stepped as close as she dared and pointed the sonic at it. The crowd drew back, murmuring concernedly as the activity of the barrier seemed momentarily to increase. Donna gritted her teeth as red sparks flew in all directions, fizzing like angry sprites. Then ragged holes appeared in the barrier, until suddenly, with a final furious crackle, it collapsed.
There was a moment of shocked disbelief as – aside from a little firelight and the glow of the sonic – the cavern was plunged into darkness. Then people began to cheer and whoop and wave their hands in the air. Donna turned the sonic off as Ronny stepped forward.
‘Miss Donna, I could hug you,’ he exclaimed.
She sized him up. He was a good-looking bloke. ‘Well, don’t let me stop you,’ she said.
Suddenly she was surrounded by people grinning and slapping her on the back. Already some were streaming up the rocky slope towards the arch above, intent on finding a way out. Some were lighting matches to see by, others grabbing glowing bits of wood from the fires. Despite the near-darkness and the fact that most of them probably didn’t have a clue where they were, the mood was one of jubilation at suddenly finding themselves free.
Adelaide had lifted Cameron up and was spinning him around, laughing. Sir Edgar, Mary and Ronny were bombarding Donna with questions.
Suddenly the air in the cavern shimmered in a dozen
different places, and people began to panic as gelem warriors appeared in their midst. All at once there were people running in all directions. Many of them slipped and fell, tripping over rocks in the semidarkness, or knocked over in the rush to escape.
The gelem warriors waded forward, swinging their arms, ripping and tearing with their hands. Evidently the disabling of the barrier had been detected.
‘Come on,’ Donna said, herding the Campbells before her. ‘Leg it.’
They joined the throng of people scrambling up the rocky slope towards the arch above. Almost immediately, however, it became obvious that Sir Edgar and his wife, unused to physical exertion, were moving too slowly to escape the clutches of the advancing gelem warriors.
Much as she loathed the thought of leaving all the freed prisoners to fend for themselves, Donna held up the matter relocator the Doctor had given her. ‘We’ll have to use this,’ she shouted to Gopal.
‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘I have this.’ He produced the transmat pod which the Doctor had altered with his sonic.
He placed it on the ground, twisted something on top of the device and crackling threads of yellow-white light suddenly leaped from an aperture in the top.
Remembering what had happened earlier, Donna hastily placed the matter relocator she was holding on a nearby rock. Although the Doctor had reconfigured the settings on this particular device, she didn’t want to risk getting zapped like the gelem warriors in Gopal’s apartment had done.
Just as before, the tendrils of light sought out the matter relocator discs in the centre of the gelem warriors’ chests.
As the light hit them, the warriors began to jerk and shudder before crashing lifeless to the floor. Although Donna knew that the creatures were not in any real sense alive, it was still disturbing to watch them keel over and die.
Eventually Gopal switched off the device and nodded at the unaffected disc sitting on the rock. ‘Now we can use the matter relocator to get out of here,’ he said.
Donna looked down into the cavern. Most people were scrambling up the slope towards the arch now, or streaming through the tunnels in search of the openings that led out on to the hillside, but there were still several dozen people down below, who had either been battered unconscious by the gelem warriors or were too badly injured to move.
‘I’m not leaving anybody behind,’ she said.
Gopal nodded. ‘You are right, of course. But we don’t know how many people the matter relocator will carry.’
‘Then let’s find out,’ she said.
‘What will you do when you find the creature, Mr Doctor?’ Ranjit whispered. ‘Will you kill it?’
The Doctor looked disapproving. ‘Course not. You can’t go through life killing things just cos you don’t agree with them. Isn’t that right, Mohandas?’
Gandhi nodded. ‘Violence solves nothing. Even when it seems to do good, the benefit is only temporary, whereas the evil it does is permanent.’
‘There you go,’ said the Doctor. ‘Couldn’t have put it better myself.’
‘So what will you do, Mr Doctor?’ Ranjit asked.
‘Jaw-jaw not war-war.’
Ranjit shook his head. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’ll talk to it,’ the Doctor said. ‘We’ll have a nice sit down and a little chat. Always the best way.’
‘And if it does not listen?’
‘I’ll make it listen. I’ll talk until it does. I’m good at talking. Never stop once I get going. Jabber jabber jabber, that’s me. I’ll tell you this, Ranjit, by the time I’m done, it’ll be begging me to let it put right what it’s done, just to shut me up. Here we are.’
He stopped abruptly in front of another petal-like opening. He raised a hand to knock, but before he could do so the ‘petals’ folded back. ‘Looks like we’re expected,’ the Doctor said. ‘Normally I’d say “after you”, but you’d better let me go first.’
He stepped into the opening and strode along the short, throat-like corridor ahead. Ranjit followed, goggling at his surroundings, still overcome by the sheer wonder of the alien craft. He found it hard to believe that he was actually inside the ball of light which had fallen from the sky over a week ago. Although everything was made of strange metals and some kind of shiny rubber, he was reminded of both a thick jungle and the belly of some great fish which had swallowed them whole.
He followed the Doctor into an oddly shaped room, full of more of the rubbery vines and incredible machinery.
His mouth dropped open when he saw that in the centre of
the room, suspended like a spider in its web, was a huge black plant with hundre
ds of blinking eyes. Unable to speak, Ranjit looked at Gandhi, and was astonished to see that he was staring up at the plant with clasped hands, a rapt expression on his face. There were even tears glinting in his eyes, as if the horrible creature was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
The Doctor didn’t even seem to notice the plant creature at first. He walked over to a blue box on the left-hand side of the room and patted it like a pet dog. ‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he said, and then he spun round, strode up to the plant and pointed a finger at it.
‘As for you, sunny Jim, you’re a sneak and a liar, and you owe me a big fat apology.’ He folded his arms and scowled. Two seconds passed. ‘Well, come on, I’m waiting.’
Ranjit’s eyes opened wide as an icy, high-pitched voice filled the room. ‘You were foolish to come back here, Doctor.’
‘Yeah, yeah, people are always telling me that,’ the Doctor said. ‘Did you honestly think, Darac-7, that I’d just sit back and let you carry on helping yourself to members of the human race as if they were sweets on a pick ’n’ mix stand? Cos that’s so not gonna happen. Instead what you’re gonna do is power up those nasty little zytron engines of yours and vamoose out of here. And don’t think about starting up your filthy little racket elsewhere, cos I’m gonna see to it that the whole base of operations is found, closed down and the extraction factories dismantled. If I were you, I’d find a nice quiet planet
somewhere and keep your head low for a while. Right, I’ll give you one hour to pack up and go. First and last chance. See ya.’
He turned and strode away without waiting for an answer. However, he had taken no more than half a dozen steps when the air in front of the circular exit shimmered and a gelem warrior appeared, blocking his path. Almost immediately the air shimmered again, and four more gelem warriors materialised, two on either side of Gandhi and Ranjit, cutting off every avenue of escape. The Doctor sighed, as if this was no more than a minor irritation. He spun on his heel and approached the Jal Karath again.
‘You really don’t want to mess with me, Darac-7,’ he said grimly. ‘If you listen to what your pulse sensors are saying, you’ll know that your plans are already in ruins.
Your first consignment of human fodder is halfway back to Calcutta by now. We’ve penetrated your glamour, dismantled your stasis barrier and disabled half your precious workforce. Believe me, your best bet is to leave and never come back. You win some, you lose some. Why not just put this one down to experience, eh?’
Once again the icy voice of the Jal Karath filled the air.
‘I know that what you’re telling me is true, Doctor, but I’m afraid that I don’t accept defeat so easily. I’m a Hive-7 Jal Karath. We are the proudest and most patriotic of the eleven Hives. Unfortunately for you, that also makes us the most unforgiving.’
As if at some unspoken command, three of the gelem warriors lurched forward and grabbed the Doctor, Gandhi and Ranjit. Ranjit struggled fiercely, to no avail, but the
Doctor and Gandhi remained still.
‘Big mistake, Darac-7,’ said the Doctor in a low voice.
‘The mistake was yours, Doctor, by coming here. Now I’ll have to create more gelem warriors and start the harvest all over again. But you can help me take the first step.’
Ranjit was still struggling, but the gelem warrior held him in an iron grip. ‘What is he going to do with us, Mr Doctor?’ he wailed.
As if in reply, a panel slid open in the back wall, to reveal an open-fronted cabinet-like device. The cabinet thrummed into life, lights flickering through a tubular system of inner workings. The Doctor’s face twisted into an expression of abhorrence.
‘What is that contrivance, Doctor?’ Gandhi asked, his voice calm and steady.
‘It’s a extraction machine,’ said the Doctor. He glared up at the Jal Karath. ‘You can’t do this, Darac-7.’
There was a peculiar bubbling sound – the sound of alien laughter. ‘Oh, I think I can, Doctor. As you will imminently find out.’
‘No,’ the Doctor said, speaking quickly now, ‘you don’t understand. You really can’t do this. Listen to me, Darac-7. You wanted to know what species I was? I’m a Time Lord. The last of the Time Lords. The only survivor of the Last Great Time War. And as a Time Lord I’m telling you that you can’t put Mohandas Gandhi into that filthy machine. If you do, you’ll tear the timelines apart. You’ll plunge this planet, this whole galaxy, into a new Dark Age.’
There was a pause. Ranjit stared at the Doctor wide eyed.
Finally Darac-7 murmured, ‘Is that so?’
‘Yes,’ said the Doctor firmly, ‘it is. So here’s what I’ll do. I’ll make a deal with you. Take me. Take the boy even.
But spare Gandhi. For the sake of the planet, let him go.’
There was a long pause. Then the Jal Karath said, ‘No.’
The Doctor’s eyes widened. ‘What do you mean, “no”?’
‘I mean no, Doctor. I will not accept your terms. What do I care if this galaxy is torn apart?’
‘But… you’ll be caught up in it,’ the Doctor said desperately. ‘You’ll die along with everyone else.’
‘I’m not an idiot, Doctor. We both know that the effects of the time disruption will not be felt immediately. It will spiral slowly down through the causal nexus, unravelling history as it goes. By the time it impacts on this axis point I will be long gone.’
‘But… your harvest. Your precious warrior army.’
The quivering motion that rippled through the weed-like body of the Jal Karath was the equivalent of a shrug.
‘There are other worlds, other galaxies. Millions of them.’
Raising its voice it said, ‘Place the old man in the machine.’
‘ No!’ the Doctor yelled, struggling wildly. ‘No, Darac-7, you can’t!’
‘Don’t concern yourself, Doctor,’ said Gandhi as he was led, unresisting, to the cabinet at the back of the room. ‘I am not afraid to die. Fear of death makes us devoid of valour and faith.’
‘But you’re not meant to die now,’ said the Doctor, still struggling hopelessly.
Gandhi smiled. ‘If God says I am, then I am.
Everything is in His hands.’
Gandhi walked across the room, his back straight and his head held high, and stepped into the machine. His face remained serene as levered metal arms swung inwards from each of the four corners of the cabinet and clamped together in the centre, sealing him in. Instantly, with a rising whine like an accelerating engine, the machine powered up, coloured lights beginning to flow over Gandhi’s white-clad form. The Doctor slumped in his captive’s immovable grip, his hair flopping over his face as his head drooped forward.
The high-pitched whine of the extraction machine climbed and climbed, building to an ear-splitting crescendo… and then suddenly there was a loud bang. A huge shower of sparks erupted out of the top of the cabinet, followed by a thick black cloud of smoke. The machine itself began to judder, the high-pitched whine to
deepen and die as the power seeped away. Inside the machine, apparently unharmed, Gandhi looked around with an expression of mild interest.
The Jal Karath started to thrash and writhe in its web of technology. ‘What’s happening?’ it screamed. ‘I feel…
pain.’
As though their command link had been cut off, the gelem warriors suddenly released the Doctor and Ranjit and stood motionless, their hands dropping to their sides.
Slowly the Doctor straightened up and raised his head.
There was a grim, knowing look on his face.
‘Thought that might happen,’ he said quietly. ‘I did warn you, Darac-7.’
Whatever fault had caused the extraction machine to overload now seemed to be having a knock-on effect on the rest of the ship’s systems. Things were sparking and burning-out all over the place. Thick black smoke was filling the room.
‘What did you do, Mr Doctor?’ Ranjit asked, ducking as a shower of sparks burst from what looked like a melting m
etal box close to his head.
‘Me? Nothing,’ said the Doctor. ‘It was Mohandas.
He’s just too good.’
The levered arms which had clamped Gandhi into the machine now sprang apart, releasing him. Stepping out, he overheard the Doctor’s words. ‘Good in what sense, Doctor?’
The Doctor was already darting from one of the ship’s failing systems to another, apparently looking for something. Suddenly he exclaimed, ‘Aha. You know what
this is?’
Both Gandhi and Ranjit shook their heads.
‘It’s an energy inversion module. And if I just refine the search parameters and set it at maximum…’ His fingers danced over an array of complex-looking controls, then he stepped back with a satisfied grin. His head whipped round and he stared at Gandhi. ‘Sorry, what were you saying?’
‘You said Bapu was too good, Mr Doctor,’ Ranjit reminded him.
‘Oh yeah, he is. Too good, too nice, too pure of heart.
You see, the extraction machine works by sucking all the badness out of people, like the juice from a lemon, and storing it to be used later. But now and again someone comes along who hasn’t got any badness in them – a genetic anomaly, or just someone with such incredible strength of mind that they’ve literally willed it away.
When that happens – and we’re talking… ooh, one out of every billion people here – the machine can’t cope. It’s like trying to boil a kettle with no water in it. Only problem for Darac-7 is that his kettle is linked to every other kitchen appliance, which in turn are linked to him…’
They ducked as an almighty explosion to their right scattered burning debris across a wide area. The Jal Karath screamed in pain.
‘… and I’m afraid that his warranty has just run out,’
concluded the Doctor. ‘Follow me.’
With the alien craft collapsing in flames around them, the Doctor ran across to the TARDIS. He unlocked the
door, bundled Gandhi and Ranjit ahead of him, and then leaped inside, slamming the door.
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