‘You’d have been politely extolling the wonders of nature when the hatching started,’ Smith said bitterly.
The Doctor looked hurt. ‘Well, I…’ he started to say.
Smith looked away. ‘Failure is one of the basic freedoms.’
Twenty minutes later, they reached the construction yard where the hollow battle-cruiser had been constructed. In the faint glow of the green phosphor plaques Bernice saw the movement of another loop monster. It was arranged in a macabre spiral surrounding Cwej, Forrester and Taal. As the Doctor approached, leading their small party, the loop broke the formation and slithered aside. There was a distinct clumsiness to its motion. It was like an old spring.
‘I love a reunion,’ the Management voice said as the three captives, who looked bloodied and exhausted, stumbled forward.
‘Doctor,’ said Forrester. ‘This thing is out to –'
He smiled. ‘I know, I know.’ He made a swatting gesture with the back of his hand and addressed the loop. ‘Thank you. You can get back to your egg-carrier now.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ said the voice as the loop hissed and swooped menacingly down. Bernice again noted the weakness and confusion of its movements, a direct contrast to the smooth assurance of its voice. It was like watching a toddler straining to reach a biscuit-tin on a high shelf. She found she was smiling, and the Doctor must have noticed that because he leant closer to her and whispered, ‘In a few hours it’ll be as deadly as anything we’ve ever encountered.’
‘I’ve noticed,’ said the loop, curling itself around a spar of rock as it slid away, ‘from my scans of some of your exploits, Doctor, that it’s customary for your opponent at this point to warn you against “trying anything”.’ The sucking sound it made as it slipped off the rock made Bernice turn away and take Cwej’s hand. ‘Well, this time, you can try anything you like. Because this time you don’t stand a chance.’
When she looked back the loop had gone.
‘I need to change my underwear,’ said Taal.
The Doctor was pacing up and down now, craning his head and looking up at the empty construction yard and the huge empty ship. He turned to Smith. It was the first time he’d spoken to her since their abrupt exchange during their flight from the tunnels, and Bernice sensed the contrition underlying his words. ‘To think that this was going to end up in the hands of the…’ He stopped short as he caught sight of Hezzka pushing himself into view.
Hezzka seemed amused by the fearful way they must have been looking at him. ‘The Chelonian race as I knew it is finished. Poor Ivzid was right about one thing. This is a moment of destiny. We are all doomed.’
Taal spoke. ‘You lot have got a ship somewhere, though, haven’t you?’
In response Forrester drew out the crumpled test flight report from the back pocket of her jeans. It was wet and covered in dirt. ‘How long would it take us to get there, though?’
‘Even if we do get away, the Zamps are free to do what they like,’ Cwej said glumly. He clasped Bernice’s hand more tightly, and for the 53rd time she wondered why she just didn’t fancy him. ‘Perhaps we ought to forget this one, eh?’
The Doctor stared at him. ‘I never forget.’ He took the report from Forrester and a look passed between them. Bernice felt a pang of envy and insecurity. Forrester was the only person she’d seen that the Doctor wasn’t putting on an act for. He hadn’t dropped his facade for the Master or Tanith and Gabriel or President Flavia, for anybody really important in the universal scheme. Only Forrester. His eyes dropped to the report. ‘Smith. Those air-buggies of yours…’
‘They’ve got independent fuel cells,’ she said. ‘If we find one, we could get to the crash site in, say, four to five hours.’
‘Very well.’ He chewed on a thumb-nail. Everybody, including Hezzka, was waiting for him to pull the rabbit from the hat, thought Bernice. Even Taal, who’d met him only moments before, was taking comfort from the air of showmanship he was even now affecting. ‘But we have to deal with this monster, there has to be a way.’
Bernice slumped to her knees and rested her forehead on one of Cwej’s legs. ‘Let’s do the show right here in the barn,’ she muttered.
The Doctor lifted a professorial finger. ‘Wait, wait. Hezzka. You and Ivzid. Were you alone?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘No, no, I mean, there must be some others of your people hanging about.’
Hezzka shrugged his shell and wiped dust from his eye. ‘The entire maternal fleet awaits our return.’
‘A fleet?’ Forrester smacked her fist into her palm. ‘Beautiful!’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘The Management must be aware of that. The egg-carrier would be able to withstand massive bombardment.’
‘“The force aura on a Zamper ship can pass through a minor-mag sun and emerge without a scratch”,’ said Taal ruefully. ‘Catalogue page 17.’
Smith said, ‘He’s right. You’d need a blast-intensity upwards of 61 blarks even to mark it.’
The Doctor’s face fell. ‘Then we may have to forget it,’ he said. ‘And clear off back to the TARDIS.’ And it was at this point that Bernice’s security in relation to the Doctor was strengthened again. She alone of the small group that followed him out of the construction yard recognized that he was lying.
The Management sensed the return of its advance guard. Weakly the loop creature emerged into the bright light of cavern 74D, its head section drooping. Its brother lurched forward to greet it.
‘Hello,’ it said tentatively.
‘Hello,’ an identical voice replied. ‘Hmm. We are two, not one. It is an interesting feeling.’
‘Yes,’ said the other. ‘Oh, I’ve – we’ve – been held back for so many years. Now we have them. At last!’
‘Yes. The flesh of the Chelonian was hard and too chewy for our taste.’
‘The girl Christie was more suitable.’ Its jaw snapped. ‘I can still taste the blood on my tongue.’
The loops slapped their bodies together enthusiastically. Already the rumble of the egg-carrier was increasing, and the base was starting to shudder slightly. From the mass of dormant Zamps came an occasional click or squeak or whistle as the conversion process neared completion. The Management sensed the awakening of many new minds, great regions of ability unfolding before him. Every mind was his, each new Zamploop infused with his unalterable purpose. A purpose that would expand exponentially, filling all eras and all places. There could be no limit to his power. He would become the universe. Each Zamp, however they might evolve, would be a sensory organ, the input by which he observed himself and his doings. It came to him suddenly. He would become more than the universe. His power to change his nature at will and dominate the furthest reaches of all time and space would make him God!
The loops sat before the egg-carrier in two neat coils, conserving their energy, waiting patiently for the birth of the Almighty.
It was hard to believe, thought Forrester, that beneath the Complex lurked a threat to the universal order. Up top the ghostly white tubeways were unchanged, silent and convoluted. They ascended swiftly. Bernice stopped every couple of minutes to let Hezzka catch up, and the unlikely pair slowly fell behind. Cwej was helping Taal to walk, and Taal was explaining the Secunda’s absence to Smith.
The Doctor made a minute movement of his head, summoning her to his side. ‘The Chelonian shuttle,’ he whispered. ‘The Secunda took off in it?’
‘She took the escape pod, yes.’
‘Ah.’ He nodded, and stared directly into her eyes. Her legs wobbled momentarily. ‘I can rely on you to get the others safely back to the TARDIS.’ He phrased the words as a statement rather than a question. ‘Don’t let Chris or Bernice follow me. When you get in, go to the console and press the yellow and green-spotted button.’
‘What will that do?’
He looked at her as if it was obvious. ‘Widen the door. For Hezzka. Shut the doors and don’t let anybody except me inside.’
> She nodded. ‘And what are you –’
He shook his head. ‘It’s better you don’t know. It’s a matter of time. If there was another way I’d come with you. My way is quicker. Now.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘A diversion, please.’
Immediately Forrester sank to her knees, clasping her chest and groaning. She thought she was quite convincing until Cwej asked, ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m – I’m –’ She gasped for breath, counting off the seconds in her mind. Ten, fifteen, twenty. That should have given him enough time. ‘I’m feeling better now.’ She stood up. ‘Let’s get on.’
Smith was the first to notice. ‘Where’s the Doctor?’
Cwej shot Forrester an accusatory glare. ‘Don’t look at me like that, will you?’ Over Cwej’s shoulder she saw Bernice and Hezzka coming up the tubeway. ‘He’s given me a job. We’re going back to the TARDIS, as planned.’
Bernice’s face took on a resentful expression. ‘What’s he up to?’
‘I don’t know.’ She spread her arms wide. ‘Honest.’
‘I know what he is planning,’ Hezzka said slowly. ‘It is something I had considered myself.’ He rested a foot on Bernice’s side. ‘The Doctor is not as our histories depict him. He is a brave para–’ He nodded. ‘He is a brave man.’
Bernice frowned. ‘Explain.’
‘The shuttle contains a detachable one-operative flight unit, which can make short journeys in space, although it was designed for expeditions in planetary atmospheres. He means to contact the fleet, I am sure.’
‘What’s the point of that?’ asked Taal. ‘What – oh.’ His fingers fluttered nervously and hope and trepidation chased each other across his face. ‘The Deimlisch manoeuvre.’
Smith swore. ‘Of course. The little… genius.’
‘This is a multi-cultural expedition, lady,’ said Forrester. ‘What’s this manoeuvre?’
Taal rubbed his sweaty palms together. ‘In the punitive campaigns of the third Wobesq-Majjina war, mad old Major Deimlisch had orders to destroy a wave of Wobesqan vacuum-to-vacuum missiles.’ He shivered. ‘Nasty little things, those, they can slip between sensor beams four seconds out of every five.’
‘Get on with it,’ said Forrester.
‘Ah, right. Well, Deimlisch knew that his fleet had no chance of stopping all of the missiles. The best that could happen was that three-quarters of his ships would be lost stopping a quarter of the missiles. So…’
‘So?’
Taal looked at his shoes. ‘The Doctor’s a very clever man, but I can’t see –’
Forrester grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, hard. ‘So?’
He shrugged. 'Deimlisch gave orders for each ship in his fleet to self-destruct. The chain reaction destroyed the fleet, the missiles, and half of the star sector.’
Hezzka grunted. ‘Each ship in the maternal fleet is powered by a stabilized core of time-cooled anti-matter. It is a simple matter to remove the temporal baffles.’
Bernice stamped her foot. She looked dangerously close to tears. ‘Why does the Doctor always have to be so crukking clever?’
Cwej leant against the side of the tubeway. ‘He’s going to sacrifice his own life for the sake of the universe.’
Hezzka chortled. Forrester pointed a finger between his eyes. ‘What’s funny?’
‘He cannot succeed,’ said Hezzka bitterly. ‘An unarmed parasite, asking Big Mother, godhead of the empire, to destroy his own fleet? It is impossible. Yes, he is a brave man, the Doctor. But stupid.’
Guided by infallible instincts, the Doctor raced up through the tubeways. When he reached the reception sphere he paused for a moment before hurrying over to the hole in the wall next to the lift shaft. Without hesitation he climbed up through the service duct, his hands, legs and umbrella working in unison to propel him with ease.
He was unobserved as he left the Complex. Nobody saw the expression that settled over his rubbery features as he hopped out on to the launchpad and padded silently towards the remains of the Chelonian shuttle, an expression that combined rage, humiliation and deep concern.
With the furthest extrusion of his senses, the Management felt the minds of living creatures. Although the power of the herdmind over objects was all but lost, he had made sure to retain the part that could direct him to food. How he craved food. The stomachs and throats of the Zamps about to hatch were aching for food.
Thanks to the stupid Ivzid, the food had escaped.
But no! He must have nourishment, he must be satisfied. God could not be denied his dinner! He licked the rows of teeth that had eaten Christie. Human flesh was delicious. The savage animal part of him, what remained of the farming instinct of the long-dead world of Kappa Geet Perba, had longed to consume the Secunda, Mr Jottipher, Taal and Smith. Watching them on Inscreens all day, day after day, observing the swell of their limbs against the fabric of their clothing, desiring to leap out and gnaw at their ample human frames.
He must feed. He must feed.
Another of him burst free. He savoured its first leap, a quicksilver dash through the air and into the open. An impetuous young one, this, its jaws snapping. Then more, more, and still more of his progeny, splitting open their useless, blind, snail-shapes and vaulting over and over. Filling the stale air of the cavern with their screeching cries, sliding the lengths of their bodies around and against each other. Young, dumb and full of life. And so, so hungry.
They must feed, and soon.
The nearest settlements, the line of independent medical outposts at the fringe of the war zone, were a day and a half away. He pictured the descent from space, the futile efforts of the humans to destroy the carrier, the emergence of his offspring.
Patience, my children, he told himself. Think of the feasts to come.
No! We demand food! the young screamed.
The Management calmed them. There was a feast to be had, here on Zamper. The Doctor and company. Their deaths would satisfy at least some of the herd, reduce the desperate need slightly.
One for each, then. Six of the young, taking strength from the awakened minds of those around them, split away from the mass and made their way leaping and coiling out of the cavern. The others cheered them onward.
The Management concentrated. The eldest of the new Zamps uncoiled themselves and made their way through the crowd of their fellows to the base of the egg-carrier. Their long necks curved up elegantly and applied pressure to concealed mechanisms. A hidden entrance whirred open.
The crew of the carrier began to board.
Frinza had now waited an hour for developments and his crew were getting edgy again. A study of the escape pod had been fruitless, neither proving nor disproving the Secunda’s account. He was being pushed by events to authorize Kinzaz’s interrogation of the parasite. As yet he had not conquered the mechanism of his mind that referred difficult decisions to a superior. He, the daughter of a blackberry farmer from Falzot, was now the leader of the fifteenth column. He hated it.
‘Sir.’ The Environments Officer looked up from his position. ‘Sir, there’s some small activity, gridmark fifteen by four.’
Frinza felt a rush of adrenalin. ‘Enlarge, forward screen,’ he heard himself saying.
A blip was revealed as the grid zoomed and one square filled the screen. ‘It’s very small. A meteor?’ said Frinza.
The Environments Officer choked. ‘Sir, it’s the shuttle’s domestic flyer!’ The aspect of the object became clearer and Frinza saw the truth of the statement. Starlight glittered faintly over the transparent dome that topped the tiny vehicle, although the occupant of the pilot’s position was not visible. The flyer buzzed about the square like a puzzled flea.
The Environments Officer said a word. Frinza missed it, and waited for it to be repeated. ‘Orders? Sir?’
‘Guide it in. I shall inspect it at once.’ Grateful for the chance to absent himself from the bridge, he made for the door. He remembered how Hezzka, and old Hafril before him, had always g
iven further commands as they left a room. It made them look busy and authoritative. ‘Inform Big Mother of this incident. And tell Kinzaz to begin his further study of the Secunda at once,’ he said as the partitions of the bridge door swished shut in his face.
The bubble on top of the domestic flyer clicked open, its release system activated from inside. A second later a strangely-shaped stick emerged; knotted to its end was a square of stained white fabric. The stick was waved about.
Frinza, because he was in charge and nobody else was going to, stepped forward. ‘Who is there?’
The voice of a parasite said, ‘This is a flag of truce. I must speak to somebody in authority.’
Frinza sighed. Another one. ‘Identify yourself!’
The new arrival popped up. He was very different from the Secunda, and appeared dirty and mad. He wore white coverings bespattered with purple dust and mud. Oddly, he appeared perfectly at home; he hopped nimbly down from the flyer and looked about genially. ‘I have news of your expedition to Zamper. And I respectfully request an audience with your Big Mother.’
Frinza swelled up. ‘What are you to make such requests?’
The little parasite swung his stick over his shoulder. ‘You can tell him it’s the interfering idiot,’ he said without humour.
The hungry young loops followed the scent of the humans up through the caverns of Zamper, their bodies slapping against each other, overwhelmed by the rush of new sensations tingling between their synapses. To hunt again, after so long! It was difficult to orientate with all of these new senses buzzing about the brain. But the Management had designed them well, and they were adapting readily. Hunger was a good motivator.
And hunger would lead them to satisfaction.
The rumble of the egg-carrier was increasing steadily, and could now be felt rattling through the floors of the Complex. Forrester brought up the rear of the party now, her head turning every few seconds to look back down the tubeways for any sign of pursuit. Smith and Taal had good local knowledge and led them unerringly up to the garage terminal. Bernice and Cwej weren’t looking her in the eye. Amateurs. She and the Doctor understood what it means to take on responsibility in the name of fairness, and that was all. Envy is a stupid reaction, and wasteful when there are a bunch of flesh-eating monsters at your back.
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