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

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Doctor Who - [113] - [E-Space 2] - [Vampire Trilogy 1] - State Of Decay Page 3

by Terrance Dicks


  Adric heard heavy footsteps behind him and an enormous hand clamped down on his shoulder spinning him round. A very large, very angry man was looming over him.

  'What are you doing, eating my bread? Who are you?' He shook Adric until his teeth rattled.

  The woman said, 'Don't hurt him. He says - he's looking for those two strangers.'

  'I've had my fill of strangers today - let him look somewhere else!' The man began marching Adric towards the door.

  The woman ran to bar his way. 'You can't send him out there now. It isn't safe. Let him stay the night at least Maybe his friends will come for him.'

  Reluctantly the man let Adric go. 'And what if someone from the Tower comes and finds him here, eh?'

  'What, now? It's hardly likely, is it?' The woman took a tattered jerkin from a peg and gave it to Adric. 'Here, put this on. It belonged to my son.'

  'Whatever you say,' said Adric obligingly. He slipped into the coat which had been made to fit someone much larger, and huddled inside it. He looked small and pathetic, and the woman smiled, and ruffled his hair.

  'Well, since I'm staying,' said Adric cheerfully. He grabbed another chunk of bread, and began munching it, looking hopefully up at his two new friends. 'I don't suppose you happen to have a bit of cheese?'

  Unable to resist the chance to do a bit of tinkering, the Doctor was working on the video unit, watched by Kalmar, Tarak and the other rebels.

  Romana looked on impatiently, reflecting that there was enough old technological junk in this place to keep the Doctor happy for years. She just hoped he wasn't going to insist on repairing all of it.

  As the Doctor worked, Romana attempted to find out more about the strange society into which they had strayed. 'How did you manage to find this place for your HQ?'

  Kalmar sighed, staring into the past. `It was many years ago, when I was young. Some of us were on the run from Zargo and his men. We escaped into these wastelands and discovered this place. All kinds of wonderful things have been just dumped here, half-hidden. There is even food and drink, piles of it, in special containers that protect it from decay. Gradually, over the years, we built this place up to what you see now.'

  `You seem to have done very well.'

  `Some of us could still read,' said Kalmar proudly. `It's forbidden, of course, but the old knowledge was passed on in secret.'

  Romana was appalled. 'What? Do you mean to say reading is forbidden?'

  Kalmar nodded. `All learning, all science, is forbidden by the Lords. The penalty for knowledge is death.'

  `Aren't there any schools? What about the children?'

  `They start work in the fields with their parents as soon as they can walk – and go on till they too grow old and die ... those that escape Selection.'

  `What Selection?'

  Tarak said roughly, `When the children are nearly full-grown, they become liable for Selection. Those who are chosen are taken to the Tower.'

  `What happens to them?'

  `The strongest of the young men become guards. I was a guard myself, until I rebelled.'

  `And the rest?'

  `They stay in the Tower, and serve the Lords.'

  `Or so it is said,' added Kalmar darkly. `None of them are ever seen again.'

  'I can see you've got a lot to rebel against,' said Romana. 'But what puzzles me is - '

  `Got it!' said the Doctor triumphantly. The video screen flickered into life.

  The Doctor rubbed his hands. 'Aha! Now maybe we'll learn something.'

  The screen went dead.

  The Doctor's face fell, as he twiddled unavailingly with the controls. 'Oh well, I suppose it must be out of guarantee by now. I don't suppose you've got the instruction manual?'

  Romana came forward: 'It's only a simple Earth-type data bank unit, Doctor, it ought to be easy enough to get it working again. We'll have to crack the entry code, but-' She broke off, realising what she had just said. `Earthtype, Doctor! This equipment came from Earth!'

  The Doctor nodded. `That's right, homely old Earth technology.' He grinned. ' I remember back on Earth, the engineers used to just...'

  He thumped the side of the console with his fist - and the screen came to life.

  'Definitely an Earth device,' said Romana dryly. She adjusted the controls, and computerised lettering filled the little screen. Romana studied it. `Seems to be a list of headings: ship's manifest, cargo, flight plan from Earth, crew-dossiers -all relating to the exploration vessel Hydrax en route from Earth, destination Beta Two in the Perugellis Sector.'

  The Doctor said thoughtfully, 'And they finished up here-just like us!'

  Romana touched a control and new information began flashing up on the screen.

  'Ship's Officer; Captain: Miles Sharkey. Navigation Officer: Lauren Macmillan. Science Officer: Anthony O'Connor.'

  The captions were accompanied by a head-and-shoulders identification portrait - a man, a woman, and another man, all in standard space uniform. The pictures, like the lettering, were blurred.

  `The read-out's still quite legible,' said the Doctor. 'Not bad after a thousand years!'

  Tarak was staring at the screen in horror. 'Those faces! They look-familiar!'

  'They must all be long-since dead, I'm afraid,' said the Doctor. 'Some family resemblance, perhaps?'

  'I was a Tower Guard once, Doctor. I saw Them every day.' Tarak peered at the blurred pictures and shook his head. 'But it can't be.'

  'Who did you see every day?'

  Instinctively, Tarak made the Sign of Protection. 'The Three Who Rule. Lord Zargo, Lady Camilla...'

  'That's only two! Who's the third?'

  'Aukon, the High Councillor.' Tarak shook his head as if to clear it. 'I'm sorry, I see their faces everywhere. They haunt me.'

  'Do they? Why?'

  Tarak said grimly, 'If you knew Them, Doctor, you would understand.'

  The Doctor said, 'I think it's time I got to know them. Come along, Romana.' .

  Belatedly Tarak remembered that the Doctor and Romana were supposed to be prisoners under interrogation. Somehow it seemed that they had been asking all the questions.

  He turned to Kalmar. 'We still don't know anything about these people. They're supposed to be our prisoners - or have you forgotten that?'

  'I shall give the Doctor my trust,' said the old man with dignity. 'He is a scientist, as I am, and I believe him to be our friend.'

  `But Kalmar, we should keep them prisoner, question them ...'

  'No,' snapped Kalmar. 'While I lead, I shall make the decisions. Doctor, you are free to go!'

  'Thank you, Kalmar,' said the Doctor quietly. 'Now, I wonder if you'd be kind enough to direct me to the Tower?'

  Some time later, following Kalmar's directions, they struck the path that would lead them to the Tower.

  Romana glanced around uneasily. ' It seems to be getting dark very suddenly!'

  A strange dusk was falling, a dusk with a kind of greenish tinge to it.

  The Doctor shrugged. 'Night must fall, Romana, even in E-Space.'

  Romana shivered. 'It doesn't feel natural somehow.' She looked up as a high-pitched chittering sound came from somewhere overhead. 'There's that noise again.'

  'It's only bats,' said the Doctor carelessly. 'I told you, they're quite harmless.'

  Something swooped out of the darkness, struck at his neck, and fluttered swiftly away.

  'Ouch!' said the Doctor indignantly, and put his hand to his neck. It came away wet with his own blood.

  He rubbed the tiny puncture-wound. 'Well, they're supposed to be harmless, in theory. That one was a bit carnivorous.'

  'Do you think we might get a move on?' suggested Romana nervously.

  They hurried on their way. The sky grew darker by the minute.

  Romana glanced up and caught her breath in surprise. `Doctor, look!'

  A long ribbon of winged shapes - bats - was streaming across the darkening sky.

  `Run!' shouted the Doctor.

  T
hey ran - and the bats pursued them.

  They sped across the sky in a swirling cloud, hovering just behind the Doctor and Romana as they ran. Every now and again a bat would swoop down to the attack. The Doctor swatted at them with his hat and Romana screamed as one of the creatures became tangled in her hair.

  The Doctor knocked it away and they ran on - and on. If they halted, or even slowed, more bats would swoop down to the attack. It was as if they were being herded, thought the Doctor suddenly - the bats were driving them, strangely enough in the direction they wished to go. Towards the Tower.

  As they ran along the edge of a dank and gloomy lake, Romana's ankle turned beneath her and she fell.

  The Doctor knelt beside her, trying to help her to get up.

  `It's no good,' gasped Romana. `I won't be able to walk for a bit, let alone run.'

  The Doctor bent to lift her up, and Romana screamed.

  `Look, Doctor, look!'

  The sky was black with bats. The chittering rose to an angry shriek as the swirling cloud hovered for a moment, then swooped down towards them.

  The Tower

  The Doctor straightened up, and stood over Romana, preparing to protect her as best he could. There was nothing else to do, he couldn't hope to outrun them now, not carrying Romana.

  The swarm of bats swooped down - and then up again, past them and away, disappearing into the darkened sky.

  Puzzled by the unexpected reprieve, the Doctor looked around - and found himself gazing straight at a grim-faced figure in black. It was Habris, the Guard Captain he had encountered at the Centre, and there were more guards with him.

  Habris bowed with sinister politeness and said, `Greetings, my Lord, my Lady. I have been sent to meet you. You are awaited in the Tower.'

  Romana's ankle was turned rather than actually twisted, and after a few minutes' rest she was able to walk normally again. By the time they reached their destination, the sinister green twilight had receded and the Tower's ivy-covered walls were basking peacefully in the rays of the late-afternoon sun.

  They were marched through a great arched doorway into the darkness of the Tower. Habris led them up a long spiral staircase, along a gloomy corridor, and finally through a set of double doors at which stood more armed guards.

  `You will wait here, please. Do not move!' Habris bowed and withdrew. The doors closed behind him.

  Romana and the Doctor looked round. They were in a huge circular chamber, walls decorated with rich and sombre hangings. On a raised dais at the far end were twin thrones, side by side. The whole place had an atmosphere of gloomy splendour, and was obviously some kind of formal state room.

  Yet there was something odd about it too, thought Romana, something incongruous, as though the room had originally been designed for some other purpose altogether.

  The Doctor, too, seemed puzzled by his surroundings. Disregarding Habris's order to stay put, he began prowling about the room. `Funny about the windows.'

  `There aren't any windows.'

  `Exactly!' said the Doctor. `And then there's the general architectural style. Rococco, would you call it?'

  'No, I wouldn't.'

  `Neither would I.' The Doctor rapped one of the walls with his knuckles, then knelt and did the same to the fioor. He looked up at the puzzled Romana. `Just testing a theory.' Looking over the Doctor's shoulder, Romana gave a sudden gasp of horror.

  The Doctor straightened up, and turned round. Two figures stood before the twin thrones. Presumably they had come through some hidden door, but the general effect was as if they had materialised from nowhere.

  There was a man and a woman, both tall and thin, with white faces and glittering black eyes, both gorgeously robed. They reminded him of something, thought the Doctor, and suddenly he realised what it was. The King and Queen, on a pack of old-fashioned Earth playing-cards.

  They came forward, moving in unison with a curious gliding motion.

  The man said, `Greetings.' His voice was cold with a kind of hissing quality. `I am Lord Zargo. This is the Lady Camilla.'

  The Doctor bowed. `How do you do? I'm the Doctor and this is Romana.'

  `We know who you are,' said the woman. Her voice had the same icy sibilance as her companion's. `We know everything here.'

  'Gosh!' said the Doctor apparently awe-struck. `That's most impressive.'

  'Almost everything,' said Zargo. `What we do not know is why you are here.'

  'Oh, ah, well, we got lost, you see,' said the Doctor vaguely. `So we landed here to ask for directions. We were just admiring your Tower--weren't we just admiring the Tower, Romana?' Romana nodded silently, and thought that when the Doctor started babbling nonsensically like this it was a sign he was very worried. Romana was worried, too. There was something very sinister about this Lord and Lady.

  `The Tower was built many generations ago,' said Camilla dismissively. 'Before living memory.' The Doctor looked strangely at her. `Before living memory ... are you sure?' Camilla's eyes widened in alarm.

  'You are space travellers,' said Zargo flatly. It was a statement, not a question.

  'That doesn't surprise you?' asked Romana.

  `Nothing surprises us. A little refreshment?' He gestured towards a side table, which bore crystal glasses and a jug of wine.

  Camilla glided towards the table and poured wine for all of them, passing round the glasses. There was food on the table, too, a platter piled high with sliced meats. Camilla offered the plate to Romana, who saw that the meat was so undercooked as to be almost raw. She declined politely; so did the Doctor.

  Camilla returned the plate to the table, and picked up her glass.

  Zargo raised his glass. 'To our visitors. May you enjoy your stay here-'

  'As we shall enjoy having you,' concluded Camilla. There was something very sinister about her smile.

  The Doctor glanced round the State Room. `Well, you certainly do very well for yourselves here.'

  'We struggle to retain some remnants of civilised life. Of course, on a primitive planet like this, it isn't easy.' The Doctor took an appreciative sip of his wine. `Not unlike Bulls' Blood, I fancy.' His voice hardened. `Still, you do considerably better than the peasants.'

  'The peasants are simple folk,' said Camilla coldly. `Richer fare would only distress them.' The Doctor nodded. `Quite right, probably give 'em indigestion. There's nothing worse than a peasant with indigestion, makes them quite rebellious. Have any trouble that way?'

  'There are always a few ungrateful ones who do not appreciate all we do for them.' Romana found the complacent superiority in her tone extremely irritating. `And what do you do for them? Apart from saving them from gluttony?'

  'We protect them. There are many dangers on this planet.' There was a moment's awkward silence.

  'Ah well, toodle-ooh!' said the Doctor, returning Zargo's toast, and clinked glasses with Romana. He did it a little too enthusiastically, and the crystal goblet in Romana's hand shattered in pieces.

  'Ouch,' said Romana. Dropping the remains of her glass, she put her finger in her mouth, sucking a tiny cut.

  Camilla was staring at her with strange intentness. `You've hurt yourself. Let me see!' She reached out and grasped Romana's wrist. `Please, let me see!'

  Romana snatched her hand away. `It's nothing, really! There's no need to make such a fuss about a few drops of blood.' Zargo gave Camilla a warring glance and said abruptly, `You still haven't told us how you came to be here, Doctor?'

  'Bad luck, mostly,' said Romana.

  'Well, we went a bit off course,' said the Doctor.

  'About a universe off course,' muttered Romana.

  'As a matter of fact,' said the Doctor, 'we were hoping you would tell us how you got here - and better still, how to get back!'

  'I fear we cannot help you,' said Zargo smoothly. `Our legends say we came from a distant planet called Earth.'

  'We can never return home,' said Camilla. `The technology is lost.'

  'Such a pity.' Camilla was st
ill staring intently at Romana. `Yes, indeed, Doctor, a great pity. However, there are compensations!'

  Adric was helping Marta to serve the evening meal, and trying to glean as much information as he could at the same time. `So every so often, these guards just turn up, sort out some of the young people and march them off to this Tower?' Marta scraped the bottom of the pot and ladled out a meagre portion of the thin stew. Adric passed the plate to a waiting peasant who snatched it and carried it off to the tables. He was the last in line; by now the tables were filled with silently eating peasants, all apparently determined to scour every drop of food from their plates.

  Marta began clearing away the pots. `It is the Selection,' she said, answering Adric's question. `It is the custom.'

  'And what happens to them? Do they become guards?'

  'A few,' Marta's face twisted with grief. `At the last Selection they took our son.' Adric was baffled. `Why do you stand for it?' Marta shrugged hopelessly. `It is the custom. It is our place to serve, to obey the Lords. Besides, resistance is useless. My son Karl tried to run, but they took him just the same. We haven't seen him since then...' Ivo came up to them in time to hear her last few words. `Karl will be chosen as a guard. Habris said he would help us.'

  'Well, I reckon someone should stand up to these people in the Tower,' said Adric indignantly.

  `Be silent,' growled Ivo. `Those who speak or act against them die silently by night.' Marts lowered her voice. `There are rumours of a band of rebels in the wastelands. Our son Karl wanted to run off and join them.'

  'Enough woman,' said Ivo gruffly. `And you, boy, get on with scouring those pots. If your luck holds the guards won't notice you.'

  Adric surveyed the pile of pots with distaste. `Look, you've been very good to me, both of you, and I'm grateful. But I'm not exactly planning on settling down here, you know. If the Doctor doesn't turn up soon, I shall go and look for him.'

  Marta clutched at his arm, as if he was a second son that she feared she might lose. `No! You must stay here.'

  'Why? What can I do here?'

  'Survive,' said Ivo grimly. `If you're lucky.'

  'That's right,' said Marta bitterly. `Survive. Work, sleep, serve the Lords faithfully and well, and they'll allow you to live till you die, worn out. That's all there is for us.'

 

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