Dr. Who - BBC New Series 45

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Dr. Who - BBC New Series 45 Page 10

by Hunter's Moon # Paul Finch


  ‘It’s a woman’s place to serve. At least here we get bed and board. There are many worse duties we could have been put to.’

  ‘Xendra, there must be a way to get off this ship.’

  ‘What would be the point? They know who my family are. Even if it was possible for me to run away, they’d re-impose the debt on father. They have all kinds of ways to get what they’re owed, trust me.’

  Xendra suddenly sensed a presence and got vigorously back to her work. Amy glanced over her shoulder as Xaaael passed them by. He gave her an unpleasant lopsided grin, but he didn’t stop to make conversation.

  ‘Watch what you say when he’s around,’ Xendra hissed.

  ‘It’s because of him that I’m here.’

  ‘He’s one of the worst of them. He’s Lord Krauzzen’s underling, but he hates being subservient to anyone. Hell never rise while Krauzzen runs the syndicate, but he isn’t respected enough to stage a revolt on his own. The real downside is that he takes all his frustrations out on us.

  He’s in a good mood at present, but believe me, there are times when he can be a nightmare. You need to be particularly careful because you’re not Torodon. There are no laws protecting you.’

  An hour later, they were despatched to the spaceship’s Engineering section, on one of the lower decks. This was the most functional area that Amy had seen. Catwalks passed through web-works of steel ducts and thick rubber cables, or between banks of exposed circuitry, with only mesh grilles to prevent accidental contact. Here and there were command points, where Torodon engineers stood on raised platforms operating freestanding control terminals. The area smelled strongly of oil and engine grease, though again it had to be spotlessly clean.

  They worked the catwalks, using a vacuum cylinder

  to suck up dust, but if any fragments proved stubborn, employing a simple dustpan and brush.

  ‘How close are we here to the cargo store?’ Amy asked.

  Xendra eyed her warily. ‘You’re not still thinking of escaping?’

  ‘I have some property I’d like to retrieve.’

  ‘We menials have no access to the cargo store. Ever.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Why do you think? It’s full of contraband and stolen goods. Personally, I’m glad it’s locked. If one of us was caught pilfering, I don’t like to think what might happen.’

  ‘Xendra, this is nonsense. I saw the cargo store when I arrived here. There were no locked doors. There was no security, nothing.’

  ‘You saw the storage section of the loading bay. Your goods will have been moved to the Secure Hold by now.’

  ‘How do I reach the Secure Hold?’

  ‘It’s not too far from here. It’s close to the repair shops, down a long green passage. But you’ll never get into it. It has a single door so strong that an army couldn’t break through. Most of Lord Krauzzen’s men have no access either. He trusts them even less than us.’

  ‘Someone must be able to get in there?’

  ‘His senior officers can. Xaaael, for one.

  ‘I see.’

  Xendra suddenly looked scared. ‘What are you planning now?’

  ‘Lord Xaaael likes me. He smiles whenever he passes me.’ ‘Don’t be foolish. He smiles because he knows he can

  do anything he wants to you. And some day he might.’

  ‘I’ll take that chance.’

  ‘No property could be worth such a risk.’

  ‘This property is.’ Amy took Xendra’s hand in hers - it was trembling, so she gripped it tightly. ‘If I can retrieve this item, Xendra, it will solve all our problems.’

  There was an air of excitement as the hunters, now fully kitted out, gathered in the boarding area. Attached to Colonel Krelbin’s belt was the deadliest-looking knife the Doctor had ever seen - the length and breadth of a machete, but razor-edged and tapered at its tip to a vicious point. No doubt this was the tool with which he’d assembled the components of the hunting-cape he was now wearing.

  ‘May the best man win!’ Zubedai said, offering sips from his hipflask.

  His tiger-striped fatigues had been complemented by an open-faced helmet with a black visor, and a breathing mask attached to an oxygen cylinder on his back.

  Before anyone could respond to this toast, Krauzzen arrived with eight of his henchmen. All wore hooded coveralls, tightly harnessed and made from greenish, rubbery material.

  ‘Zarbotan, you’re in charge here,’ Krauzzen said to someone the Doctor hadn’t seen until now, though he

  remembered the name. The newcomer stood more than two metres tall, and his hard, angular shape implied that he was at least partly mechanical. But his face was his most macabre feature. It looked to have been patched together from the fragments of two other faces. ‘ I’ll be operating the Observation Booth,’ Krauzzen told him. ‘Maintain full communications. But if anyone gives you a problem, you have my permission to deal with them as you see fit.’

  The disfigured giant nodded.

  Krauzzen turned to the rest of them. ‘After you, gentlemen.’

  Compared to the drop-ship reserved for ‘product’, the drop-ship for the hunting party was the last word in comfort. It was spacious and airy, and contained restful, reclining seats. There was even a bar area, and two waitresses on hand to provide a stewardess service.

  Through one of several viewing ports, the Doctor was able to assess the Ellipsis as they tilted away from it. It was huge of course, and in shape was curved like a crescent moon lying flat. But it was burned and scarred all over, as if it had seen many battles. Plenty of exterior weaponry was visible, while numerous shuttle, transport and fighter craft, minute in comparison, were clustered along its many docking ports. The Ellipsis itself was dwarfed by Zigriz, the eggshell-coloured gas giant lowering behind it, blotting out most of space.

  ‘Enjoying the view?’ Krauzzen asked.

  ‘The Outer Rim has many wonders,’ the Doctor replied.

  ‘It’s no surprise you make this your home.’

  ‘Temporary home,’ Krauzzen corrected him. ‘The Ellipsis has been in orbit around Gorgoror for several years, but our interstellar thrust is in perfect order. There may come a time when I feel the urge to move on.’

  ‘Not too soon though, eh?’ one of the others shouted.

  ‘The Colonel may dominate the scoring at present, but I’ve a mind to wrest that title from him in due course.’

  You’ll have plenty opportunities yet, Krillig,’ Krauzzen replied.

  Descending through Gorgoror’s turbulent atmosphere, a furious storm buffeted the craft, and each passenger was forced to belt himself in. At last, however, they slipped through a crevice in the roof of one of the planetoid’s vast domes, and entered a massive black-brick structure.

  They disembarked onto a landing pad scarred by retro-rocket bursts. By the glare of a powerful arc-light, they climbed down a vertical ladder, stepping onto a separate catwalk, which led to a closed slide-door. Krauzzen tapped in a combination, and the door slid open revealing a snug interior, crammed with monitors and other instrumentation, but warm and lit by a dull, reddish light.

  Once inside, Krauzzen’s men relaxed, pulling up chairs and commencing work on various control panels. The hunting party primed their weapons.

  ‘The last word from the Bridge, gentlemen, is that all eight targets are alive,’ Krauzzen said. ‘Though they have split into two groups, one of which has been sighted near the prison. The other is headed for the power plant.’

  ‘Hardly seems sporting,’ the Doctor said. ‘A heads-up like this.’

  ‘The Gorgoror Chase covers hundreds of square-miles,’ Krauzzen replied. ‘I haven’t an infinite amount of spare time on my hands, even if you have. Speaking of which, as this is your first time here -‘ He took something from a locker; it looked like a space helmet - ‘I’d advise you to wear this vision-helm. You can call a variety of charts and maps onto the inside of the visor.’

  The Doctor waved the item away. ‘I
studied the schematics on board the Ellipsis last night. I won’t need this.’

  ‘Are you mad?’ Zubedai asked him.

  ‘No one else is wearing one.’

  ‘Because they don’t need to,’ Krauzzen said. ‘They’ve been here many times.’

  ‘That gives them an advantage,’ the Doctor admitted.

  ‘But my superior skills give me one. It all balances out in the end.’

  ‘You’re possessed of soaring confidence, Doctor,’

  Krelbin sneered. ‘I’ll say that for you. I see you’re not even wearing protective clothing.’

  ‘That would slow me down, and I prize my agility. Mr Agile - that’s me.’

  ‘If you do find you run into trouble,’ Krauzzen said, ‘remember that we have eyes and ears all over the complex. You need only shout. In truth, you may not even need to do that. You’ll never know when we might be watching you.’

  The creature was composed entirely of viscous, translucent ooze.

  Its body reared up in front of them - if it could really be called a body - so that it filled the entire subterranean passage. It was little more in truth than a shapeless, malleable blob, but it had a revolting, fish-like stench and it gave off a shimmering, green light, which revealed innards cluttered with half-dissolved human bones. It rolled towards them along the passage like a slow-motion wave, liquid-light patterns playing across the roof and walls as it drew closer.

  Dora had shrieked as soon as she’d seen it. She was still shrieking now, instead of turning to run. Harry didn’t react much more sensibly, wrapping his arms around her in a futile attempt at protection.

  ‘This way,’ Rory cried, yanking them both backwards They stumbled away. The hellish thing pursued, but it moved ponderously. Rory glanced back once, seeing its immense, jellified bulk filling the passage for several dozen metres.

  On venturing down to the lower levels via an escalated staircase, they’d entered a warren of tunnels and culverts, all half-buried in rubble. Progress was agonisingly slow.

  Initially they hadn’t worried too much about that, because they had no idea where they were supposed to be going anyway, but now with a predator on their trail, it was easy to panic.

  ‘We have to get out of here,’ Dora wept, as they turned corner after corner, but always found more stretches of derelict conduit ahead.

  ‘I’ll fix this,’ Harry tried to reassure her, at which she thumped his chest angrily.

  ‘How are you going to fix it, Harry? I bet you don’t even know how you got us into this, do you? And where’s Sophie? What kind of danger is our daughter in at this moment? Are you going to fix it for her?’

  ‘This way!’ Rory shouted. He’d scouted a few metres ahead, and now came running back. ‘There’s an old shaft leading up.’

  The entrance to the shaft was littered with broken bricks, though steel cables were dangling down it, and on one side there was a set of rungs embedded into the concrete. Arm over aching arm, they ascended, their wet, ragged clothes clinging like second skins. The next level was a tiled passage with steel doors down either side.

  Some of these stood open on tiny cement cells.

  ‘Looks like a prison,’ Harry said.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Rory replied. ‘I heard something about the Torodon using convict labour.’

  Harry mopped sweat from his grimy brow. ‘Could be

  useful. Where there’s a prison, there are weapons.’

  Dora gazed at him with weary disbelief. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Prisoners are always stockpiling weapons. It’s a gang culture thing.’

  Rory was thoughtful. ‘The Doctor mentioned there was rioting here.’

  ‘Who’s the Doctor?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Just a friend.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake!’ Dora interjected. ‘If there are any weapons, they’ll be sticks and stones. What good is that going to do?’

  ‘It’s better than nothing,’ Rory said. ‘There might even be a protected area where we can hold out. Come on!’

  ‘How fascinating,’ the Doctor said, gazing at the blob of vitreous material unfolding along the passage towards them. ‘That’s an oggle. From Gigantia’s sea of dust.’

  ‘How fascinating,’ Krelbin agreed, lifting his Eradicator to his shoulder.

  ‘I thought these imported life forms were just obstacles,’ the Doctor said. ‘I wasn’t aware we got points for shooting them.’

  ‘We don’t.’ Krelbin took aim. ‘But it’s in our way.’

  ‘Hadn’t thought of that.’ The Doctor raised his transmat-rifle and fired first. The electric-blue beam rocketed along the dingy passage, engulfing the glutinous monstrosity in a glaring flash. A second later, the passage was clear.

  Krelbin lowered his weapon, his lips taut with annoyance. The Doctor hadn’t cost him points, but he’d cost him a kill, and where Colonel Krelbin was concerned that was much the same thing.

  The Doctor, meanwhile, was wondering if it had been a rash act, saving the oggle’s life. It was a simple, amoeboid creature, with no real awareness. He hadn’t wanted to see it eradicated, but the net result was that he’d used up his second charge. He could now only fire the rifle one more time.

  ‘Krauzzen was right,’ Zubedai said from behind, he and a couple of the other hunters catching up with them.

  He lifted his laser-sighted visor. ‘The targets have divided into two groups. The larger group is headed for the power plant.’

  ‘In which case we should divide our forces,’ the Doctor said. ‘I’m going to stick with this smaller group. Good luck to the rest of you.’

  Zubedai looked surprised. ‘You’ll blow any chance for high scoring.’

  ‘You can keep it.’ The Doctor took aim at an imaginary quarry. ‘For me, it’s all about the hunter and his prey.

  Skill and cunning, tracking and hunting, ducking and weaving. Whatever. A one-on-one contest suits me just as well.’

  ‘I’m sure it does,’ Krelbin said. ‘Except that the tracks suggest there are three in this smaller group. I wouldn’t want even a braggart like you to be overwhelmed.’ His sweaty, scarred face gleamed with malice. ‘So I’ll stay with you.’

  Zubedai and his party retreated into the darkness, and the Doctor and Krelbin proceeded alone. Krelbin did most of the tracking, his practised eye detecting minute clues: a footprint on the edge of a mouldy brick, a fragment of rust knocked from a jutting pipe. That made him useful, though he was also, of course, a big problem. The Doctor had no idea which party Rory was now with. He’d opted to follow the smaller group because he’d been hoping to shake off the rest of the hunters. He hadn’t counted on Krelbin accompanying him.

  ‘In case you were wondering,’ Krelbin said as they scrambled up a derelict shaft. ‘Zubedai and the others are no loss. I’m sure you’ve realised they’re nothing more than bored billionaires, weekend warriors who’ve no idea what constitutes a fine kill.’ He clambered out onto the next level, a dim passage that looked like part of a prison.

  ‘Zubedai is the most pathetic. He actually believes that his life is stressful.’

  ‘Actually, Colonel,’ the Doctor replied, ‘I’m more interested in you. It’s surprising that a real soldier draws any satisfaction from facing unarmed opponents.’

  Krelbin advanced, scanning the floor. ‘We’re between wars, Doctor, or hadn’t you noticed? My regiment has been in garrison for several years, and it’s mindlessly frustrating.’

  ‘Did you know Lord Krauzzen in the military?’

  ‘Lord Krauzzen?’ Krelbin scoffed. ‘I love the way these gangland figures adopt aristocratic titles.’

  ‘But did you?’

  ‘Never had dealings with him before this venture. I was in the Galactic Marine Corps. He and that maniac sidekick of his, Zarbotan, were SAB - elite commandos, constantly in action. They must be proud of the career paths they’re following now.’

  ‘If you dislike them so much, why are you cooperating with them?’


  ‘They’re a necessary evil. I need to keep in trim. But at

  some point Torodon will be fighting a real enemy again, and we should wipe out these space vermin at the same time.’

  You aren’t afraid they’ll overhear you?’

  ‘This is the Prison of Gorgoror, Doctor. These lower sections are vaulted with lead and reinforced concrete.

  There are no cameras down here, and no audio censors can penetrate.’

  The Doctor wasn’t sure about that, and neither, he suspected, was Colonel Krelbin, though clearly he didn’t care. Krelbin had huge confidence in his own ability to wreak destruction, and probably with good reason.

  They ascended another two levels, occasionally delaying to check for tracks, but eventually found themselves back among surface buildings. Much caging was in evidence: bars on windows, bars across doors.

  Some rooms were blackened shells.

  ‘There was trouble here,’ the Doctor said.

  ‘There was always trouble in these off-world prisons.

  Criminal scum thought they had a right to an easy life.

  And the authorities’ response, eventually, was to let them.’

  ‘You’d have had a different solution, I imagine?’

  ‘Show trials for the ringleaders, followed by public executions. Even harder labour for all the others. I’d teach them the price of transgressing Torodon law.’

  Colonel Krelbin’s inability to apply this ‘moral’ sense to his own behaviour might have amused the Doctor had it not frightened him. If he hadn’t realised before that he was stuck here with a madman, he certainly did now.

  Before he could ponder this predicament further, he saw something that brought him to a halt. They’d reached

  an intersection, but the left-hand passage had been marked on its facing wall with what looked, at first glance, like a smiling mouth drawn in charcoal. The Doctor recognised it as representing a crack in reality - which meant that Rory was the artist.

  ‘Something interesting?’ Krelbin asked.

  ‘No, not really.’ The Doctor pointed left. ‘I suggest this way.’

  ‘That only leads to the quarries and the work camp.’

 

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