Doctor Who - [113] - [E-Space 2] - [Vampire Trilogy 1] - State Of Decay

by Terrance Dicks

  DOCTOR WHO AND THE STATE OF DECAY

  Based on the BBC television serial by Terrance Dicks by arrangement with the British Broadcasting Corporation

  TERRANCE DICKS

  A TARGET BOOK published by the Paperback Division of W. H. ALLEN & Co. Ltd A Target Book

  Published in 1982 by the Paperback Division of W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd A Howard & Wyndham Company 44 Hill Street, London WIX 8LB

  Copyright (c) Terrance Dicks 1981

  'Doctor Who' series copyright (c) British Broadcasting Corporation 1981

  Printed in Great Britain by The Anchor Press Ltd, Tiptree, Essex

  ISBN 0 426 20133 7

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  E-Book version:

  primary scan/proof by Shakaar

  lit file format and build by Wordsmith

  Contents

  The Selection

  The Strangers

  The Stowaway

  The Messengers of Aukon

  The Tower

  Tarak's Plan

  The Secret Horror

  The Resting Place

  Escape

  The Vampires

  The Traitor

  Attack on the Tower

  The Arising

  Departure

  The Selection

  Looming above the Village was the dark Tower. Its pointed turrets reared up against the night sky, dominating the landscape as they had done for a thousand years. The simple village dwellings huddled about its base. Beyond the Village was a scattering of ploughed fields, bordered on one side by dense forests, on the other by swamp.

  There were no lights in the Village, no movement in its unpaved streets. All was silent. Only one building gave out a few chinks of light from its shuttered windows - the long, low village hall, known as the Centre, where the villagers gathered for their communal meals. There were lights in the Tower, too. Those who dwelt there kept late hours, and were seldom seen in daylight.

  Day and night, the approaches to the Tower were patrolled by guards, grim-faced men clad in black-leather jerkins, studded with steel. They carried pikes and swords and wore daggers at their belts. A few of them, the senior and most trusted, carried heavy blasters in worn holsters at their belts.

  One of them was Habris, Captain of the Guard. Lean and grim-faced like his fellows, he marched along the gloomy corridors of the Tower with reluctant haste. The haste was because he was on the business of the Lords, and dared not delay. The reluctance was because, as always, to enter the presence of his rulers made Habris sweat with fear.

  He paused outside the great State Room, scowling at the door guards, who sprang to attention.

  What was it about the Lords, he wondered, that filled him with such unreasoning terror? They were cold and distant, but no more so than to be expected of those in such a high position. They were swift to punish those who failed them, but they valued good service, and Habris knew he stood high in their favour. It wasn't so much any quality they possessed, decided Habris, it was something they lacked. There was a sense of something remote and alien about them. It was the way they looked at you, as if you were a member of some different, inferior species, whose concerns were of no real interest to them.

  It was as though they weren't quite human.

  Habris became aware that the door guards were standing rigidly to attention, their faces filled with terror, assuming no doubt that his scowl was for them. Consoling himself with the thought that they feared him just as much as he feared the Lords, Habris braced himself and marched into the state Room.

  Lord Zargo and Lady Camilla were sitting on their twin thrones. Between them stood Aukon, their Councillor. The three Lords were talking in low voices. They broke off and looked up when Habris entered.

  He marched up to the dais and bowed low. 'It is the Time of Selection, my Lord.'

  Zargo leaned forward, black eyes glittering in the pale, bearded face. 'Choose well, Habris. Let them be young and strong, filled with life.'

  'It is spirit, not flesh, that the Great One prizes,' said Aukon. There was reproof in his voice. Habris thought no one but Aukon would dare take such a tone with Lord Zargo.

  Lady Camilla's eyes, too, shone with feverish excitement. 'Yet flesh and blood has its place, Aukon.'

  'I still look in vain for the first of the Chosen Ones. The Great One will need new servants at the Time of Arising. Remember that, Habris.'

  'Yes, Lord Aukon.'

  Habris bowed, and left the State Room, relieved to be on his way.

  In the Centre, the villagers were gathered, waiting. As always, at the Time of Selection, there was a kind of subdued tension in the air. All those of Selection age were assembled in the hall, and Ivo, the burly Village headman, moved among them, pausing here and there to tap a young man or a young woman on the shoulder, ignoring the looks of mute appeal from their anguished parents.

  Those he tapped moved to the centre of the hall, where they formed a long straggling line. They stood there, heads bowed, waiting apathetically.

  The far end of the hall formed a kind of kitchen area and Karl, Ivo's son, was standing there with his mother, Marta. He was bigger and stronger than any of the young men in the room, and Marta looked fondly at him. He would be as big as his father some day - if he lived.

  Suddenly, to her horror, Karl moved away from her side and went to join the other young people in the centre of the room.

  Ivo swung round and glared at him. 'Karl, get back! Get out of the way!'

  'Why, father? Shouldn't I be standing with the others? Just because I'm your son-'

  'I said get back!' Clamping a massive hand on his son's shoulder, Ivo shoved him back to the kitchen area. Marta grabbed him by the sleeve and thrust him towards one of the wooden benches. 'Sit there, boy. Do as your father tells you.'

  Sulkily Karl sat down. No-one protested.

  A few minutes later Habris came into the hall with a squad of guards.

  He nodded to Ivo and glanced around the room. 'Are they all here?'

  'They are all here,' said Ivo steadily.

  Habris began moving along the line, pausing before each of the young men and women. Sometimes he passed on, sometimes he tapped the one before him on the shoulder. Those he tapped moved out of the line and went to stand in a steadily growing group by the door.

  Habris went on with his task with mechanical efficiency, looking, as he had been instructed, for any spark of resentment or rebellion. As always, there was nothing. Like cattle, the victims waited to be chosen, and like cattle they stood patiently by the door. When Habris was finished, perhaps a third of those in the line had been chosen. He waved his hand, and the rest moved hurriedly to rejoin their waiting parents.

  The Selection was over.

  Or - not quite. Habris felt rather than saw that someone was glaring at him. He turned slowly, and saw Karl, Ivo's son, sitting on a bench in the kitchen area, his eyes burning with anger.

  Habris knew that Karl was Ivo's son, that Ivo had been holding him back from Selection. And he knew too that the Lords had recently become dissatisfied with the quality of those he had chosen. Here at last was someone with the spirit that they had demanded. Habris pointed to Karl. 'You! Come here!' Karl rose and moved slowly towards him.

  Ivo hurried t
o stand between them. 'No, Habris. He is not for Selection.'

  Habris hesitated. He and Ivo were not exactly friends, but they shared a mutual respect, based on their different kinds of authority. Besides, Ivo was responsible for the distribution of food, and he took good care to took after his friends. Like everyone in the Village, Habris's main concern was with his own survival. There was a good chance that Karl was of the kind the Lords were seeking. It would please them if Habris brought him back. Moreover, if Habris felt that Karl was suitable and did not bring him, Aukon would know. It was more than dangerous to keep secrets from Lord Aukon - it was impossible. Somehow, Aukon would pluck the truth from his mind and before long the guards would have a new Captain.

  Harshly Habris said, 'I have to follow the procedure. You know that.'

  'Why?' said Karl furiously. 'Why must we obey those in the Tower? Why do you obey them, Habris? You're not an evil man. You eat with us sometimes, my father gives you wine...'

  Habris's black-gloved fist struck him under the ear, felling him to the ground.

  Habris turned to Ivo. 'It has to be done. You understand.'

  Ivo said nothing.

  Half-dazed, Karl struggled to his knees. Habris reached down to pull him upright. Suddenly Karl thrust his hand aside, and sprinted for the door.

  'Stop him,' yelled Habris. The guards were already moving to block Karl's escape. Two of them grabbed his arms, and he was dragged over to the rest of the chosen group.

  Habris said, 'The boy has spirit, Ivo. I'll try to get them to take him as a guard. I can promise nothing, you understand.'

  Still Ivo did not speak. Something about the expression on his face made Habris shiver and he turned away. With an angry gesture he waved the guards and their prisoners away, and, followed them from the hall without looking back.

  Marta ran sobbing towards Ivo, burying her head in his chest. Ivo put a massive arm around her shoulders and stared over her head, his face like stone.

  The Strangers

  The Doctor was lost.

  It was not the first time in his many lives, but on this occasion he was rather more seriously lost than usual, not just on the wrong planet or in the wrong time but in the wrong universe.

  At the conclusion of a recent adventure, the TARDIS had been sucked through a kind of whirlpool in the fabric of Space/Time, and had emerged into something the Doctor called the exo-Space/Time continuum - E-Space for short.

  Now he was studying the instrument readings on the many-sided central control panel of the TARDIS, trying to work out some way of getting the TARDIS back into normal Space. Romana, his Time Lady companion, and K9, a small mobile computer who just happened to look like a robot dog, watched him gloomily. Both suspected, quite rightly, that prospects were not very good.

  The Doctor straightened up, running his fingers through a tangle of curly hair.

  'Well, Doctor?' asked Romana impatiently.

  The Doctor chose to take her question literally. 'Yes, I'm fine thanks. The poor old TARDIS is feeling a bit queasy though.'

  'Really!'

  'Still, so would you be if you were warping about in E-Space.'

  'That's just what we're doing, Doctor.'

  'Yes, I know, but not personally.' The Doctor patted the console. 'Poor old girl.'

  It always infuriated Romana when the Doctor spoke of the TARDIS as if it was a living creature. 'But we are personally trapped here, Doctor;' she said, through gritted teeth.

  The Doctor said optimistically, 'There's a low probability we can slip off home the same way we got here.'

  'But meanwhile we're trapped,' said Romana with gloomy relish.

  'Don't keep saying that, Romana.'

  K9 interrupted them. 'Master?'

  'Not now, K9.'

  Romana switched on the scanner, which showed nothing but empty space, tinged with a rather sinister shade of green. 'Well, we are trapped, Doctor, admit it. Marooned in the exo-Space/Time continuum!'

  The Doctor remained infuriatingly cheerful. 'Well, you never know, it might turn out to be quite nice here. Once we've seen the sights, met a few people ...'

  Romana waved towards the scanned. 'Supposing there aren't any planets here?'

  'Come on, Romana, E-Space isn't that small. There must be planets here - we'll find one sooner or later.'

  Despairingly Romana turned away. It was almost as if the Doctor was enjoying the situation. 'Doctor, you're incredible.'

  'Well, yes, I suppose I am,' said the Doctor modestly. 'I've never given it much thought.'

  'Master!' said K9 again.

  'Well, what is it?'

  'There is one isolated planet at extreme limit of scanner range.'

  'Well, why didn't you tell me?' said the Doctor rather unfairly. 'Is it inhabited?'

  'Habitable, Master.'

  'Atmosphere?'

  'Atmosphere and gravity approach closely to Earth normal,' said K9 importantly. 'Day equivalent to 23.3 Earth hours, year to 350 Earth days.'

  Romana looked unbelievingly at the Doctor. 'How do you do it, Doctor? How did you know?'

  'Oh, knowing's easy,' said the Doctor cheerfully. 'Everyone does that ad nauseum. I just keep on sort of hoping. That's much harder!' He went over to the console and began setting a course for the strange planet.

  Some considerable time later, they were all studying the planet's image on the screen, while K9 scanned its surface with his sensors.

  'Well,' said the Doctor. 'What do you make of it, K9?'

  'I have discovered one localised concentration of metal artefacts, Master, suggestive of high technology.'

  'Civilisation!' said the Doctor exultantly. 'Maybe their scientists will help us to find a way out of here.'

  'Low energy levels suggest only primitive life-forms,' said K9 discouragingly.

  Romana looked at the Doctor. 'Sounds as if their civilisation might have come and gone.'

  'The data is anomalous,' said K9 worriedly.

  'Well, at least there's life of some kind,' said the Doctor briskly. 'And where there's life ...' He went over to the console. 'Let's land and take a look, shall we?' A minute or so later, the central column of the TARDIS console shuddered slowly to a halt, and the Doctor operated the door control. 'Well, here goes!' He went outside.

  The TARDIS had materialised on the edge of a wooded clearing, the square blue shape of the police box incongruous beneath the trees. The Doctor looked round approvingly. It was a pleasant spring day. Sunshine filtered down through the tree tops, and birds sang in the branches. All in all, there was a reassuring atmosphere of rural peace. 'Well now,' said the Doctor. 'Isn't this nice!'

  Romana appeared behind him. 'Why here?'

  'I put us down close to K9's energy concentration.' The Doctor fished a little telescope from one of his capacious pockets. 'As a matter of fact, it should be just over there.' He put the telescope to his eye and focused it, gazing across a stretch of open country. 'Ah, there we are. Look!' He passed the telescope to Romana.

  She took it, adjusted the focus, and found herself looking at an oddly-shaped tower crowned with three pointed turrets. At the base of the Tower was a cluster of low buildings.

  The Doctor took back the telescope and looked again. 'A typical medieval scene. The protective castle, with village dwellings huddled around it like ducklings around their mother.'

  'K9 said there were signs of high technology!'

  'Well, computers aren't infallible.'

  'Sshh Doctor! You'll hurt his feelings.'

  The Doctor grinned, and went back inside the TARDIS. 'It's awfully nice out there, K9, fine summer's day, a castle and a village. Romana and I are just going to take a look.' K9 glided forward eagerly. 'Not you, old chap, you'd better stay here.'

  K9's tail antenna drooped.

  'Come on,' said the Doctor encouragingly. 'Someone's got to stay on guard. See if you can compute a method of reverse-transition from existing data. You'll enjoy doing that, eh?' And with that, the Doctor was gone.
/>   K9's tail antenna rose again, and he began whirring and clicking contentedly. There was nothing he liked more than a good, complex calculation.

  Behind him an inner door opened just a little and two bright eyes peered cautiously through the crack. K9 was too busy to notice, but he was not alone in the TARDIS...

  The Doctor and Romana were skirting the edge of the wood, heading in the general direction of the Village. There was a stretch of agricultural land just ahead of them, and the Doctor pointed out that it appeared to have been cultivated by hand rather than by machinery.

  'Mind you, just because their way of life appears to be simple, we mustn't assume they're primitive or ignorant. They may have turned away from technology deliberately, opted for a semi-rural culture. It's always a mistake to judge by appearances.'

  A man appeared on the track ahead of them. He was short and squat with grimy, work-worn features, he wore rough homespun garments, and he carried a billhook over his shoulder. He was trudging along, head down and did not notice the Doctor and Romana until he was nearly upon them. Then he jumped back, his face twisting with alarm.

  'Hullo!' said the Doctor cheerfully. 'I wonder if you could help us. We were just-'

  Terrified, the man backed away. He touched ears, eyes and mouth in some ritual gesture, then turned and fled into the forest.

  'Why didn't you ask him some questions, Doctor?' said Romana mischieviously. 'You mustn't judge by appearances, you know. He was probably their Astronomer Royal!'

  The Doctor chuckled. 'I didn't even have time to ask him the name of his tailor!'

  They went on their way.

  Romana said, 'Did you notice that sign he made?' The Doctor nodded. 'Some kind of ritual gesture to ward off evil.'

  'What evil?'

  'Well, us at that particular moment. You know, Romana, I've a feeling they're not too used to strangers here.'

  In the Centre, a few peasants were dawdling over their bowls of gruel, watched impatiently by Habris and Ivo.

  'Get a move on, you lot,' yelled Ivo. 'You'll be late getting back to the fields.'

  Scraping the last few drops of gruel from their bowls, the last of the stragglers shuffled out, and Habris and Ivo resumed their conversation.