‘Silence!’ said Kade. ‘Once again you assume that you have bested us, Doctor, but I can assure you that is not the case. Sontarans. . . Prepare weapons.’
The two Sontaran soldiers lifted their rifles and aimed them squarely at the Doctor.
‘No,’ said the Doctor. ‘No no no. . . Wait. . . You see. . .’
The General took a deep breath, ready to give the order to fire but, before he could speak, Mr Carstairs had stepped forward, between the Sontarans and the Doctor.
Unnoticed by either, Mr Carstairs took a deep breath. He hadn’t thought this through properly; it was a decision forged in a moment of sheer panic, an idea that had come to him so suddenly he hadn’t given himself proper time to consider just how ridiculous it might be.
Remaining perfectly silent, his eyes open but glazed over, his face without expression, he lifted up his open hand, just as Mr Pemberton, his wife and the others had done in Miramont Gardens.
‘General Kade,’ said one of the Sontarans with a gasp. ‘He’s one of them, sir. . .’
‘A Rutan. . .?’ said Kade, staring at Mr Carstairs aghast.
He turned to his guards and ordered them to lower their weapons with a single gesture of his hand. The Sontarans followed the command.
General Kade turned back to the Doctor.
‘Very well. If you wish to pick a side in this war, Doctor, so be it. It will not change your predicament.’
Still dazed by what Mr Carstairs had done, the Doctor gathered his thoughts and walked towards General Kade.
‘Oh yeah?’ he asked. ‘And what predicament would that be, then?’
Kade laughed callously.
‘A subtle manoeuvring of the flotation panels and an adjustment to the coordinates, Doctor. You have heard, perhaps, of that which the humans call the Great White Spot?’
His brow furrowing with growing concern, the Doctor nodded.
‘A storm larger than the Earth itself,’ said Kade, still smiling. ‘A storm into which this colony, and all of its inhabitants, will soon be drawn and dashed into atoms. So, you see, this victory is ours, Doctor. You cannot hope to save all of the humans in that machine of yours. You must leave them all to die or stay and join them in their fate. I bid you farewell, Doctor. It has been an honour.’
The General reached up to the collar of his armoured suit and pressed a small button.
Within a split second, the three Sontarans were engulfed in a flare of bright red light, and in the blinking of an eye they were gone.
The Doctor turned to Mr Carstairs.
‘Way to go, Mr C!’ he shouted, holding up his hand for a ‘high five’ which never came.
The recovering residents were still brushing the noxious mulch from their clothes.
‘What was all that about?’ asked Mr Pemberton.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Mr Carstairs, smiling bashfully. ‘I don’t know what came over me, really.’
‘Well it did the trick!’ said the Doctor. ‘Only problem now is, we’re about to crash into one of the biggest storms in the solar system. We need to get to the Docks. Come on! Allons-y!’
As the Doctor led the Carstairs family and the others out of the botanical gardens, Mrs Carstairs turned to her husband.
‘I’m sorry, dear,’ she said, ‘but do you have the faintest idea what’s going on?’
FROM THE MOMENT the sirens started there was chaos. It was a siren the residents knew well from the colony’s monthly drills. Only this was not a drill.
They were evacuating Chelsea 426.
Led by the Doctor, Jake, Vienna and their parents ran from the Oxygen Gardens to the Western Docks. Every thoroughfare and corridor was clogged with residents fleeing in every direction, some of them dragging hastily packed suitcases or clutching framed photographs under their arms. When they got to the loading bays at the Western Docks, they found the placed swamped with panicking crowds of residents and Newcomers alike.
‘Humans,’ the Doctor muttered under his breath. ‘Inventors of the queue, but they hear a siren and all hell breaks loose.’
As he made his way through the teaming masses with the children and their parents close in tow, the Doctor came eventually to Mayor Sedgefield, who was talking to Captain Thomas.
‘Please, man. . . You must have room on that ship of yours,’ the Mayor begged.
‘I’m telling you, Mr Mayor, we have neither the supplies to feed extra passengers nor the oxygen for them to breathe. You must have life rafts?’
‘Not enough,’ the Mayor cried, his face a mask of frustration. ‘The women and children? Surely you could begin taking them on board. . .’
The Captain shook his head forcefully.
‘I’m sorry, but there simply isn’t enough time to start processing your residents as well as our passengers.’
In one last desperate gesture the Mayor reached forward, grabbing Thomas by his lapels.
‘Do you want us all to die? Please. . . I am begging you—’
‘Er, hi. . .’ said the Doctor, interrupting the Mayor mid-sentence. ‘Remember me? Name’s the Doctor. We met in your office. What’s happening?’
‘The colony. . .’ said Mayor Sedgefield, his eyes red with the promise of tears. ‘We’re off course. . . The Great White Spot. . . There’s not enough room on the ships and we don’t have enough life rafts. . .’
‘Not enough rafts?’ asked the Doctor. It was a pointless question, he knew that much; but even so it took a second or two for the enormity of what the Mayor had said to hit him.
‘Not enough rafts. . .’ he said again, only this time it wasn’t a question. It was a cold, hard fact.
Breaking away from the Mayor and Captain Thomas, the Doctor began pacing in what little space he could find among the masses of people swarming towards the exit gates.
Jake and Vienna ran to his side.
‘What is it?’ asked Jake. ‘What’s happening?’
‘I need to think!’ said the Doctor, hitting himself on the head with both hands. ‘Think! Thousands of people, not enough ships. . . Not enough room on the ships. Not enough time to get everyone on the TARDIS. Wait. . . The TARDIS. . . I could use the TARDIS to. . . No. . . That’s no use. . .’
‘Use the TARDIS to what?’ asked Vienna.
‘Well,’ said the Doctor, and then in one breathless sentence: ‘I can’t use the TARDIS to tow the colony away from the storm it’s anchored to Saturn if I tried pulling it away it would break up – oh COME ON!’ He struck his head once more. ‘Great big colony. . . Not enough ships. . . There’s got to be something. . .’
‘Er, Doctor.’ It was Jake, standing at his side and tugging at his sleeve.
‘Not now, Jake, I’m thinking. . .’
‘But I think I’ve got an idea.’
The Doctor looked down at him.
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘I said I think I’ve got an idea.’
‘Really? What?’
‘The ships,’ said Jake. ‘There aren’t any rockets on the colony. We move about using the flotation panels and the fusion candle, but the ships have got rockets.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said the Doctor. ‘Are you thinking. . .?’
‘Yeah,’ said Jake, hesitantly. ‘We could use the ships as our rockets. The ones facing north could fire their rockets to steer right, and then the ones facing south could fire their rockets to steer left.’
The Doctor thought about this for a second and then laughed.
‘Yes! Jake. . . you’re a genius!’
He grabbed Jake by the head and shook him vigorously, dazing the young boy, before running across the loading bay to where Captain Thomas was now guiding passengers onto his ship.
‘Captain!’ he shouted, over the din of the crowds and the sirens. ‘Wait! I’ve got an idea. No. . . hang on. . . I don’t have an idea, but that boy over there. . . That genius over there does have an idea.’
The Captain turned to the Doctor.
‘What’s that?’
/> ‘I SAID THAT GENIUS OVER THERE HAS AN IDEA. We need you and the Captains of the other ships to use your rockets to steer the colony.’
‘I’m sorry. . . What did you say?’
‘I SAID WE NEED YOU AND THE CAPTAINS OF THE OTHER SHIPS TO USE YOUR ROCKETS TO STEER THE COLONY.’
‘Steer the colony? Are you insane?’
‘The colony doesn’t have rockets,’ said the Doctor, squeezing through the thronging crowd until he was within earshot of Captain Thomas. ‘But you do. If you keep your ships moored but fire your rockets, we can steer the colony back onto its course, and away from the storm.’
The Captain frowned and bit his knuckle in concentration.
‘Come on, Captain,’ said the Doctor, impatiently. ‘Can you cogitate a little quicker? Clock ticking and all the rest of it.’
‘Yes,’ said the Captain, at last. ‘You know that might just work. A little like they do with the mining platforms on Neptune. Yes. . . That’s a damned fine idea, Doctor.’
‘Like I said,’ said the Doctor, beaming, ‘not my idea. His. . .’
He pointed at Jake.
‘Now come on, Captain, we’ve got, ooh, about twenty minutes to save a few thousand people. Chop, chop!’
The Captain nodded and ran to his ship, barking orders at the crew, much to their confusion.
The Doctor turned to Mayor Sedgefield.
‘Mr Mayor. . . Did you catch any of that?’
‘I. . . er. . . Yes. I think so. Spaceships as rockets?’
‘Then tell the other captains.’
‘Of course. . .’
‘Now.’
As the Mayor left them and called out to the captains of the other ships, the Doctor turned to Jake and Vienna.
‘Right!’ he said, ‘We need to get to the control tower!’
Jake nodded.
‘I think it’s this way,’ he said, pointing to an enormous and impossible-to-miss sign at the other end of the loading bay that read ‘CONTROL TOWER’.
‘Oh yeah,’ said the Doctor. ‘Brilliant!’
As the Doctor ran, the children joined him with their parents, still dazed and confused, following closely behind. They passed through sliding doors and climbed a narrow metal staircase that rose high above the loading bay until they came to the large, disc-shaped control room.
From its wide, semicircular windows they could look down upon the many ships that were moored at the Western Docks, including the Pride of Deimos, and out over the vast, pale vistas of Saturn. There, drawing ever closer, a colossal blemish on the cloudscape, was the swirling grey vortex of the Great White Spot.
‘OK,’ said the Doctor. ‘Have you guys ever seen a boat race?’
All four members of the Carstairs family met his question with puzzled frowns.
‘Right. . . Of course not. Never mind. OK. . . In a boat race there are usually four people rowing like mad and one person with a megaphone telling them to row harder. Basically, we’re the person with the megaphone!’
He turned to the control desk, pressed a number of switches and buttons, and lifted up a microphone.
‘Testing. . . testing. . .’ he said. ‘One-two. One-two. Ha! You wait your whole life to say that and then you get to do it twice on the same day. Marvellous. OK. . . Are you all receiving me?’
From the desk there came a number of voices, speaking in many different accents, each of them responding that they could hear him loud and clear.
‘OK,’ said the Doctor. ‘Pride of Deimos. . . You’re furthest south and pointing north. We need you to fire on the count of three, but take it easy. Got that?’
‘Aye aye, Doctor,’ said the Captain of the Pride of Deimos.
‘One. . . two. . . three!’
At its tail end, the rockets of the Pride of Deimos flared into life, jets of blue and white gas erupting out into the ether. The whole colony shuddered; the abandoned plastic cups left behind by the control tower’s operators bouncing on their desks. The Doctor, Jake, Vienna and their parents all braced themselves.
‘Ooh,’ said the Doctor. ‘Bit bumpy, but it’s a start. OK, Captain. . . Power down, or whatever it is you space captains say. Reduce thrust. Whatever.’
‘Reducing thrust, Doctor.’
Looking out over the horizon, the Doctor saw the storm drawing closer still. Even with the rockets of the Pride of Deimos no longer firing, the colony was still shaking.
The Doctor lifted the microphone once more, but then turned to Jake. While the rest of his family were frozen in place, their expressions ones of absolute terror, Jake was smiling. The Doctor held out the microphone.
‘You do it,’ he said, beaming. ‘Tell him to give it some welly.’
‘Welly?’ said Jake, taking the microphone.
‘Tell him to fire on full power. Or whatever the proper term is.’
Jake frowned. ‘No,’ he said. ‘If they fire on full power they might break free. They need to go up to about twenty per cent power, and then the Herald of Nanking has to give it fifteen, maybe sixteen per cent.’
The Doctor looked from Jake to the ships down on the Docks and then back to Jake again.
‘What?’ he said. ‘Which one’s the Herald of Nanking?’
‘That one down there,’ said Jake, pointing.
‘How do you know that?’
Mr Carstairs laughed.
‘The ships,’ he said, smiling proudly. ‘He’s always watching the ships.’
‘Brilliant!’ said the Doctor. ‘Well, you seem to know what you’re doing. I’ll. . . er. . . just, you know. . . moral support and all the rest of it.’
Jake laughed and, lifting the microphone to his mouth, said, ‘OK, Pride of Deimos, if you could go up to twenty per cent power.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said the Captain, ‘but who is this?’
The Doctor leaned in to the microphone.
‘I wouldn’t argue,’ he said. ‘He knows more about all this than I do, and that’s saying something.’
‘Fair enough,’ said the Captain. ‘Rockets firing on twenty per cent.’
The rockets fired up once again and the colony shook even more violently than before.
‘OK,’ said Jake. ‘Herald of Nanking, if you could go up to fifteen per cent.’
Below the Pride of Deimos, the rockets of a smaller ship let out a fiery jet, and the whole colony began to tilt north.
‘Ooh,’ said the Doctor. ‘Easy. . .’
Beyond the windows of the control tower, the storm was almost upon them. As much as the Pride of Deimos and Herald of Nanking were pushing them away, the Great White Spot was pulling them in.
‘It’s not enough,’ said the Doctor anxiously. ‘It’s not enough. OK, Jake. . . I think we need to try all of them.’
‘All of them?’
‘All of them.’
‘OK. . .’ said Jake, nervously. ‘Um. . . Can all of the Captains whose ships are facing north. . . Can you all fire your rockets? Pride of Deimos. . . go up to twenty-five per cent. Herald of Nanking. . . Go up to twenty. . .’
One by one Jake named the ships that lined the Western Docks and gave each captain the order to fire their rockets, telling each one in turn the exact amount of power to apply.
With a colossal roar and a blinding flash of light, the rockets of a dozen ships erupted. The colony shuddered and shook; anything that wasn’t fixed into place tumbling and crashing to the floor.
Through the windows, beyond the edges of the colony, the Doctor watched as the storm came closer and closer.
Jake’s plan was working. A colony the size of a small city was drifting north, the storm now veering sharply to the southernmost edges of Chelsea 426.
The flotation panel on the southwest corner began to dip violently as it drew nearer to the storm itself and they could hear a metallic groan as its fixtures were strained by the sheer force of the storm’s tremendous pull.
‘Come on. . .’ said the Doctor. ‘Come on!’
Bolts and rivets the size of tr
ee trunks were wrenched free from the flotation panel’s moorings and sent spinning into the storm in a glittering metallic cloud of shrapnel. The colony shook again and, with a monstrous crash, the panel was torn away and flung out into the storm, where it buckled and folded, its membrane torn to shreds and its frame smashed into tiny pieces.
‘Whoops,’ said the Doctor. ‘That’s not good.’
Still, the rockets of the ships on the Western Dock fired full blast into the face of the storm, and still the colony drifted north. The Doctor watched as they passed around the northern edges of the vortex, missing it by only a few short miles. The colony continued to shudder and shake until finally, the storm now behind them, it came to rest. The rockets of the ships below had died down.
The Doctor took the microphone from Jake.
‘Er, Captains. . .’ he said. ‘What’s happened?’
It was Captain Thomas who answered.
‘Run out of fuel, Doctor,’ he replied. ‘That’s the trouble, firing in the upper atmosphere. The old fuel cells aren’t designed to do it. Any news yet on whether we’ve averted disaster?’
The Doctor grimaced.
‘Not sure,’ he said. ‘We lost one of the flotation panels.’
There was a long pause.
The Doctor turned to Jake, Vienna and Mr and Mrs Carstairs, anxiously biting his lower lip, but noticed that none of them seemed as concerned as he was.
‘Is that all?’ said Captain Thomas, after an age. ‘Good thing these things remain stable with just the three, then, isn’t it?’
The Doctor laughed, more out of relief than anything else.
‘Stable on three?’ he said, still laughing.
‘Oh yes. That’s the thing with flotation panels. Damned things break all the time.’
‘Stable on three!’ said the Doctor. ‘We’re stable on three!’
He turned to Jake and Vienna.
‘D’you hear that? We’re stable on three!’
‘Yeah,’ said Vienna, sarcastically. ‘You didn’t know that?’
The Doctor’s smile changed instantly into a disgruntled scowl.
‘Oh, all right, Miss I-Know-Everything!’ He turned to Jake. ‘How do you put up with her?’
Jake smiled, and the Doctor laughed, grinning at the twins, and then at their parents.
The Taking of Chelsea 426 Page 14