by Simon Clark
'Absolutely. They're too wary of contamination. I daresay you won't find a single Dalek ship here, in case any of the test subjects should escape.' The Doctor nodded. 'The Daleks have created their ultimate weapon. Only - to quote another old phrase - they can't live with it and they can't live without it.'
'Bravo… Bravo.'
I recognise the whispering voice and whirl round. There, standing ahead of us in the corridor, is the old man with the white hair. He's applauding the Doctor's words while repeating: 'Bravo. Bravo.'
'Well, well, well.' The Doctor cracks a dry smile. 'I didn't think I'd see you again.'
Puzzled, Captain Vay stares at the old man. 'You know this person, Doctor?'
'This is a non-person. It's one of the walking hives - parasitic bugs and nothing more. But I know the appearance it has chosen for its present incarnation.' Head tilting, he examines the figure in its peculiar clothes. 'Yes, my friends, that is me. Or rather, me as I once looked. Those insects are exceedingly clever, aren't they? They managed to sift through my memories even when I myself no longer had access to them.' He addresses the figure. 'l know why you are here, of course.'
'Yes,' the man-shaped hive whispered, pleased. 'I should hope you do, even though you took your own sweet time reaching your conclusions.'
Captain Vay asks the old man: 'The Doctor is right? This world is just one huge laboratory?'
'Oh yes, he's right. The Doctor is always right. At least, he was in my day.'
The Doctor turns to us. 'You must remember that you're not conversing with a true version of my earlier self. Those insects are clever. Our friend there has his - its, I should clarify - own agenda.'
'Then we need to be on our guard.' Captain Vay looks round. 'Jomi? We have only one weapon between us?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Then our safety lies with you, ranger.'
'Yes, sir. Only, I'm down to my last two shots.'
'In that case, all I can ask is that when you need to fire, make sure they count.'
'Yes, sir.'
The white-haired man waves us closer. His manner seems impatient, almost caustic. 'I've got something to show you.'
We move forward, alert to any possible threat.
'Come along, I shan't bite.' But even as the words are formed, I see his face momentarily dissolve into a mass of swarming insects, before they re-bind themselves once more into the image of the white-haired man.
'Wait!' The Doctor steps forward. 'Are you going to tell these soldiers, or shall I?'
'Tell them what?'
'You should know. Your telepathic ability is highly developed. You're reading what's uppermost in my mind right at this moment, aren't you?'
'I prefer to show as well as tell. And now that time has come to show.' With a grand, stately gesture, using both arms fully outstretched, he indicates the wall behind him. 'Behold!' Just as we've seen sections of wall do the same before, it melts away. Only this is the full length of the wall, running perhaps a hundred paces. As it melts into transparency, I see beyond it. A vast space enclosed by an arching ceiling, as if the hall sits beneath a colossal dome. Before us the floor rises in a series of terraces. On each terrace is a line of Daleks. How many? Five hundred? Six hundred? I can't tell. All I know is that hundreds of eye-stalks are focused on us as we stand in what was a corridor. So many… Even so, I scan the Dalek mass looking for those most senior. I'm determined to destroy one of their commanders before they kill us.
Only they don't fire at us. I see the weapons of two of the closest Daleks target the white-haired man. He chuckles. 'Listen, my friends.' He points to the man beside me, who I'd once known as the Professor. 'Call him Doctor.' He touches his chest. 'Call me Dalek!' As the Daleks fire at him, he merely laughs, and the insects that made him incarnate disperse in a blur into the vast hall. The Daleks destroy some of the individual insects, but I know most of the swarm is safe. It's eerie, but I still hear the old man's triumphant laughter receding slowly into the distance.
I raise my weapon, aiming at a senior Dalek that displays the imperial purple blaze across its carapace.
In a calm voice, the Doctor tells me: 'Jomi. Don't fire. At least, not for the present.'
He steps toward where I stand with Kye at my side. 'Don't you know yet?'
The legions of Daleks gaze at us. The sense of pure hatred is like a physical force, pressing at me in wave after wave of cold loathing. The power of a Dalek stare. It is debilitating. 'I know I'll do my duty,' I tell him. 'I'll fight those monsters until my dying breath.'
'Those monsters, Jomi?'
'Yes.'
'But what about the other monster?'
This strange question is enough to make me glance away from the menacing array of Daleks to lock eyes with the Doctor. 'What do you mean? Other monster?'
'Isn't there another one?'
'Where?' I glance round the massive hall expecting to see some vast monstrosity lurking in the shadows; one I haven't noticed but the Doctor has.
'You don't really need me to spell it out, Jomi. You know… it's the one inside your head.'
'Nonsense.'
'The monster that for years has stood guard and won't let you do what deep down you know should be done… must be done.'
'Liar.' Confused, angry, I turn back to glare at the assembled Daleks, readying myself to fire on the most senior.
'Jomi.' The Doctor's whisper is almost hypnotic. 'Remember. Amattan. When he was trapped inside the barrier. He was in agony. You should have ended his suffering, only you hesitated. Why? What demon inside your head prevented you from granting your friend a merciful death?'
'Stop this…'
'Why Jomi?'
'Shut up.'
'Look inside yourself. Find the demon.'
'Please, Doctor. I can't.'
'Find the demon, Jomi. Cast it out. Then do what you know must be done.'
'When I was a child…'
'Yes.'
I grimace with the pain of remembering. 'No, it's stupid.'
'I won't think it's stupid. Tell me, Jomi. It's the only way to exorcise the monster in your heart.'
Just for a moment it seems the Doctor and I have stepped outside time and space. Part of me knows that I stand there with the exhausted and bloodied remnants of my platoon, that we're facing hundreds of Daleks. But there's another part that tells me I'm distant from this reality, that I'm in a world that consists solely of me and the Doctor. I'm aware of his eyes that seem vast, luminous and incredibly wise. They have fixed on me with hypnotic intensity. And I know he cares about that secret shame I've locked away deep inside me. And yet… and yet…
And yet I'm also transported back through long, dead years to where I stand over Yo, the brown eyed Grimp so horrifically injured that I know it will die… In the Doctor's presence, time is fluid in my mind; it runs backward, it overlaps… present mingles with past…
'Jomi,' he prompts gently. 'Tell me.'
'When I was a child… my grandfather gave me a pet, he trusted me to care for her. Only I let him down. I got careless…
'She was hurt in an accident… badly hurt. I knew she would die. I tried to put her out of her misery humanely… only the harder I tried to kill her, the worse I hurt her. She would not die. Every blow… it was terrible. She just wouldn't die… and all the time, she looked up into my eyes, knowing that I was trying to stop her suffering… but I failed. She was such a bloody mess, Doctor.'
'And so you failed Amattan? You couldn't bring yourself to kill him, just in case you made him suffer even more?'
I nod… beaten… humiliated… miserable… so miserable that I want to dissolve into the ground.
'Jomi. You weren't to blame. After all, how much harder is it to kill the things you love than-' he glances at the Daleks - 'than the things you hate?'
My shoulders sag. 'I failed Amattan. I failed even Yo, the pet that my grandfather entrusted into my keeping. A little, good-for-nothing rock rodent that my people never ever care about.'
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'Except you. Listen, my friend. We learn from failure. When you were a child, you failed because you lacked maturity and physical strength; you hesitated to end Amattan's suffering because you thought the same would happen again, that you'd only intensify his pain. Now… however… something tells me you won't make the same mistake a third time.'
'Oh no?' I find it hard to believe him.
Almost in a whisper, he speaks into my ear: 'Jomi. Now let us speak of other things. You saw the creatures that have been sealed away in their cells for centuries. Despite their outward shape, what are they?'
'Dalek.'
'Correct. And the insects that formed the figure of my old self?'
'They were Dalek, too.'
'Good. Now if they contain the essence of the Dalek, might one not assume that every living thing on this world - every tree, every insect, every reptile - is Dalek-hearted, too?'
'Yes.'
A number of the insects that formed the white-haired man stream by; there is something jubilant about the hum of their wings.
'Dalek-hearted insects,' the Doctor breathes. 'The reason why they helped us, and the reason why the Daleks try to destroy them, is that they outperform their Dalek creators in this environment. Look, they're free to leave here. The Daleks can do nothing to stop them. The Daleks hate that. They fear it.' His voice drops until it sounds like that of a ghost in my ear. 'The creatures that roam freely here are the Daleks' most successful creations. They, the Daleks, cannot contain them in their prison. The least successful are the ones that the Daleks have captured. Now, do you see?'
Kye looks at me, then at Captain Vay and Rain and Pup standing together ten paces away.
'Jomi,' the Doctor whispers. 'Your firearm has two shots remaining. You recall the agony of those creatures' existence in the cells? You recall Yo? You recall Amattan?'
I nod.
Suddenly he speaks out loud so that the Daleks can hear. 'And you recall that French phrase - that ancient French phrase I used?' I nod again.
'Say it, Jomi. The Daleks don't understand it.'
Adrenaline powers my voice. 'Coup de grace.'
'Then, ranger, do your duty.'
I look into my heart and know that the 'monster' the Doctor talked about has gone. I have exorcised it. I also know that I have failed twice - but, on my life, I will not fail a third time. I know what must be done.
No sooner has the Doctor spoken the word 'duty' than I spin round, raising the gun as I do so, my finger tightening on the trigger. My move is so fast that they don't even have chance to flinch. What's more, they stand so closely together that my single shot strikes all three. In a single beat of the heart, Captain Vay, Pup and Rain vanish in a blast of heat and vapour. Coup de grace. The stroke of mercy. Now my friends - my Dalek-hearted friends - will not suffer for all eternity like those tormented beasts in the cells. As the thought races through my head I remember Yo. A dirty little animal that no-one could love until my own grandfather showed me the truth. I failed to end her suffering, but I've succeeded now. In another time. Another place. The guilt I've felt all these years is leaving me - a bittersweet release; confirmed by the gentle fall of dust that is all that remains of my comrades.
The Doctor looks at me. 'You have one shot left, Jomi. Now the question is, what beats stronger in your chest? The heart of a Thal? Or the heart of the Dalek?'
Kye is looking at me; her eyes are large, frightened. Yet I know she understands what I have done. I have granted our comrades a merciful escape. The Doctor watches my face. I glance at the legion of waiting Daleks. They watch me. No doubt calculating how I will act next.
Will I fire at their leader?
Will I, a Dalek-hearted Thal, kill the Doctor?
Will I turn the gun on Kye and myself to escape imprisonment?
Seconds spin out, even the universe beyond this domed building appears to hold its breath, waiting to see what I will do next. After all, my course of action might alter the future forever. Not only for us, but for the entire cosmos.
The Doctor tilts his head as he looks at me. 'You were right to grant your comrades a merciful release. I'm confident that whatever you decide to do now will also be the right choice.' He turns back to the Daleks and addresses them in a powerful voice that seems to carry deep into the heart of the fortress. 'And you know he will make the right choice too, don't you? Only you don't know what that will be, so your scientific curiosity - or is that your morbid curiosity - prevents you from acting now!'
This is it! This is the moment when the vast hall changes its nature. The ranks of Daleks that are lined up on tiered platforms that reach from the floor to the domed ceiling part. Smoothly, the terraces split down the centre, then the two sections glide apart, like the two halves of a curtain being opened. Sitting there in a shadowed gulf behind the mass of Daleks is the colossus of its species. An Emperor Dalek. Glittering silver tubes radiate from it to create a sunburst pattern that pulses with energies of incredible power. How I understand its nature I don't know. But I do know that this colossal Dalek is feeding on the energy that should fuel the city. It is draining the lifeblood of the buildings through that dazzling array of metallic arteries into its body. Beside it is a blue box with small windows set in the upper part. Compared with the Emperor Dalek, it appears an archaic construction; an ancient artefact from another time…
The Doctor follows my line of sight. 'The blue box? That is my vessel. The TARDIS. See the Emperor Dalek. It would dearly love to feed on its energies, just as it now voraciously bleeds its own city of power.' He addresses the Emperor Dalek in a clear, confident voice. 'You've not been able to crack her open yet, I see. But you're attempting to harness the artron energy that the TARDIS exhales from her fabric… Oh, that numinous effulgence you do not even understand, but crave so much it must hurt you through and through to your rotting core.'
I see that golden hoops encircle the blue box, not touching but hovering close enough to be bathed by the pale blue radiance that aureoles it.
'Don't get too close to the old girl,' the Doctor grins, perhaps knowing something that the Dalek monster doesn't. 'You might just get your… ahem!… fingers burnt.'
'DOC… TORRR…' The giant Dalek's voice isn't so much heard but a presence that is felt. A voice cannot have colour, but this great rushing sound, like the breeze that ghosts through the dead limbs of a forest in winter, is somehow smeared with the dark thoughts that are shaped within that ominous metal shell. 'Doctor, you have failed again. You are mine to manipulate… or dispose of whenever I choose.'
'And you are the paragon of success, hmm? No, I think not. See, Jomi. This isn't a Dalek that moves and kills; it is an inert mass that sits and broods for centuries, nurturing its sordid little strategies. Its sole weapon is thought. Down through all these grim years it has sat in its fortress. Here its brain has given birth to monstrous concepts that have resulted in those sorry creatures we encountered in the cells. It squats there like a big metal toad. Planning. Scheming!'
The Dalek Emperor makes a sound that could be dark laughter. 'Ah… Doctor. But I have been successful. I have not merely improved this universe's tired, old species. I have created a new kind of life… a superior biological system of unprecedented power and ability.'
'Oh, immortal, indestructible and wise, no doubt?'
'Doctor, Doctor, Doctor.' Now the creature is gloating. 'Even the stars will not burn forever. The universe requires intervention if it is to continue. We, the Dalek race, have the power to refuel a dying star. We will halt entropy. We will reverse decay. And we will adorn beautiful worlds with creatures that are the very essence of perfection.'
'You mean to say that you intend to re-engineer the cosmos and all its life forms so that everything - both animate and inanimate - fulfils the Dalek creed.'
'We are not so much conquerors, Doctor. That is a redundant phrase. Consider us conservers… protectors… guardians of both life and the very fabric of the universe.' As it speaks, the metallic arte
ries that feed the giant Dalek pulse so brightly that I find it hard to keep my eyes open. It's like gazing into the dazzling glare of a mid-day sun. 'Doctor. It is not so much the Daleks needing the universe, as the universe needing us.'
'So you're going to save all of creation? How noble. How altruistic.' The Doctor's laugh is bitter. 'The sad thing is that not only do you believe that nonsense, you can't really stop yourself, can you? Your only goal is re-make the entire universe - everything: planets, comets, stars, galaxies, and all the life that inhabits them. You find yourself compelled to transform it all into a Dalek.'
'Doctor, this is a conversation that we have enjoyed many times before.'
'Oh, I dare say, and many times in the future, too. Sad old things, aren't we? Locked in our private little argument. You declaiming that the Daleks are soooo misunderstood - poor darling things. That you are fundamentally good at heart; that you want only to save us and protect the worlds we live on. And then there's me, your highness, the contemptible wanderer who flits from planet to planet stirring up trouble. Who questions your plan to turn the universe into what would be one vast Dalek… because if the whole universe was essentially Dalek, then there would be nothing for you to hate any more… But wait a moment… That's your reason to live, isn't it? Without anything to hate, you would have no reason to exist.'
The Dalek Emperor's voice rises like the scream of hurricane: 'Doctor, it is you who is the disease. We create. You destroy. Why?'
'Because evolution is supposed to be spontaneous. Biological development is in response to environment; it is not to be dictated by a single intelligence. That's why I will fight you, that's why I will smash your evil machines. Believe me, I will do so until my dying breath.'
'Hmm… Do not tempt me, Doctor.'
'Yes, I'm vulnerable to your weapons. But have you considered this: is time running out for you, oh self-important one?'
'There is nothing you can do that will harm me or delay my work.'
'Hah!' The Doctor grins. 'I cannot destroy you?'
'No. Never.'
'Never say, never, sir.' I realise that, incredibly, the Doctor is enjoying this. He's grasped some truth that eludes the Dalek Emperor. 'Now, let me explain something.' The Doctor speaks out, addressing both the Daleks and me. 'You understand now, Jomi. A Dalek squad abducted you and your platoon years ago. You never arrived here today by shuttle. The Daleks implanted that memory in your mind. During all this time, they've been working on you in their laboratory; they've re-engineered your brain, embedding the Dalek psyche beneath your conscious mind. It's a sleeper device, like a time bomb, waiting to be activated when the time is right.