Dr. Who - BBC New Series 45

by Hunter's Moon # Paul Finch

  The last thing Amy wanted to do was bolt down a rabbit hole and find herself trapped, but nothing else suggested itself.

  When she finally descended the ramp, it ended, as she’d feared, in a low, vault-like chamber. She pivoted around, trying to work out her next move. The place was jammed with discarded rubbish - the splintered shells of jemmied-open crates, empty metal containers, torn sacking, bundles of paper packaging. There were control panels everywhere, giving off a low hum and dull lighting, but it was anyone’s guess what their purpose was. At the far end of the room, set into a central portion of the floor, was a circular hatch, a little over a metre in diameter. It was made from some shiny, ceramic material, and fixed in place with a steel collar. There was no obvious way to open it. It had no handle or buttons. When Amy stamped on it, it didn’t give.

  Zarbotan’s voice drifted down the ramp towards her.

  ‘You’ve had your chance, girl. My patience has run out.’

  With heavy clanks of his semi-mechanical feet, he descended.

  Frantic, Amy dug her way through the refuse, drawing sheets of bubble-wrap over her head. She caught a last glimpse of Zarbotan as he strode into view. He’d inserted the hover-plate into a harness buckled to his back, and had drawn his photon-pistol. With practised malevolence, he raised it until his arm was ramrod-straight and moved slowly from one pile of rubbish to the next. His aim came to rest on a torpedo-shaped container, the open door to which revealed an empty interior. He fired, and a pulse of blinding light shot into the container, blasting it apart and then folding it up into a smouldering, semi-liquid knot.

  ‘Just imagine the effect of that on your soft human flesh,’ he laughed.

  He now took pot-shots around the vault. There were thunderous impacts. Fountains of scorched and shattered rubbish exploded into the air. Amy scuttled beneath the debris like a rat, but finally she was cornered. A thin cork hoarding was all she could shelter beneath, and Zarbotan ripped it away.

  Amy cowered as he stood over her. There was no mercy in his bisected face. The ‘living’ section scowled; the ‘dead’ section was blank.

  She saw his grip tighten on the pistol’s hilt, and screwed her eyes shut.

  The next sound she heard, however, was not the squeal of discharged energy, but a deep CLUNK of metal, followed by Zarbotan’s brief, angry shout.

  When Amy’s eyes snapped open again, he was no longer there.

  But she wasn’t alone.

  Xorax had reappeared, and was standing by the entrance. One of his hands was clamped on a polished brass instrument, which looked distinctly like a lever.

  Confused, she glanced further around the room - and her eyes came to rest on the point where Zarbotan had just been standing - on the circular ceramic hatchway, which was now irising closed.

  Amy climbed to her feet. ‘What… how?’

  ‘Joining forces with Krauzzen’s enemies will avail you something,’ Xorax said with grim satisfaction. ‘Survival.’

  ‘But where is he?’

  Xorax beckoned her. When she joined him, he stepped aside and tapped a crystal scope. She gazed into it, and it was as though she was staring down a narrow tube.

  At the far end, very distant, she could see the streaming turmoil of Gorgoror’s upper atmosphere. A tiny figure was plummeting through it, pin-wheeling.

  ‘Down the garbage chute,’ Xorax replied. ‘Where he belongs!’

  ‘Andrei has an idea,’ Rory said.

  The Doctor was preoccupied with the heap of disordered cable and circuitry which he was still trying to breathe life into. He surveyed it distractedly, his mind racing through one possible solution after another.

  ‘Doctor… ?’

  The Doctor turned to find Rory, Harry and Andrei on the control deck with him.

  ‘You say the building opposite is some kind of energy store?’ Andrei said. ‘Is it a simple matter of reactivating the power source in that building?’

  ‘Well, it’s not that simple,’ the Doctor replied. ‘The Solar Transduction Centre would re-energise the entire complex. It would give us all the power we need, but Krauzzen and his cronies are still lurking around down there somewhere. Probably the only thing holding them at bay is fear of my transmat-rifle.’

  ‘Transmat-rifle?’ Rory said.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve lost it anyway. The point is that whoever tries to climb back down this tower will never be climbing up it again.’

  ‘What if we were to slide over there?’ Andrei said.

  The Doctor appraised him. ‘How do you mean.’

  Andrei raised Harry’s crossbow. ‘I can fire a zip-line across to the roof of the Transduction Centre. Someone could slide down it.’

  The Doctor pondered this, before hurrying down the ladder to the platform beneath. The rest of the fugitives moved aside as he stood by the barrier facing the Transduction Centre. The distance to the ground was immense, and, aside from a great mound of ash and cinders mid-way across, mostly it was cluttered with piles of razor-edged scrap. Not only that, the angle of descent would be perilous. Whoever slid down the line would be travelling at terrific speed.

  ‘No one’s attempted to scale the tower yet?’ he asked over his shoulder.

  ‘Not yet,’ Dora replied.

  ‘It might work. Just.’ He hurried back up to the control deck, reappearing seconds later with several bits and pieces, and a coil of flexible, high-tensile twine. ‘This stuff was part of an escape kit, in case the tower ever became unstable. The twine looks thin, but don’t be fooled. It’s designed to bear extreme loads.’

  ‘Well, that’s the zip-line taken care of,’ Rory said, ‘but how are we going to anchor it on the Transduction Centre roof?’

  ‘Nothing simpler,’ the Doctor replied. ‘What missiles have we got?’

  Harry handed over a small bundle of makeshift

  arrows. None was especially aerodynamic, but so long as they flew and could at least hit a large target they would suffice. Even better, one had a brass eyelet set into its base.

  The Doctor fingered it. ‘Well use this one. But first we loop the twine through it, so well have a double line.

  We then haul this over there.’ He produced a small but sturdy grappling hook. ‘This should find a secure grip.

  All we need do then is fasten the line at this end, and I’ll be ready.’

  ‘You’ll be ready?’ Rory said.

  The Doctor shrugged. ‘I think I deserve some of the fun, don’t you? Anyway, does anyone else here know how to reactivate a Solar Transduction Centre?’

  ‘No one else knows how to operate a homemade Torodon radio set either,’ Rory said. ‘If you get killed doing this, the rest of us are trapped up here.’

  The Doctor glanced from Rory to Harry to Andrei, unable to deny this logic. ‘OK, good point there.’

  ‘Can’t you just tell one of us what to do?’ Andrei said.

  ‘Write it down, maybe?’

  The Doctor scrubbed a hand through his mop of hair.

  ‘It may not be too complicated. There could even be a breaker-switch in the Emergency Maintenance Shed, which will be that domed structure in the very middle of the roof.’

  ‘What would this breaker-switch look like?’ Harry asked.

  The Doctor shrugged. ‘Just that - a switch or lever.

  Probably behind a sheet of tempered glass, to protect it.

  But a device simple enough for a low-grade maintenance tech to operate.’ He moved back to the parapet. ‘Whatever,

  well have to move fast. I imagine Krauzzen’s men are pretty good shots - they’ve had enough practice.’

  With the twine fitted to the arrow, Andrei took aim.

  He struck the roof easily, but the arrow ricocheted off a reflector dish and slid across its bitumen-like surface, finally coming to a standstill. Andrei lugged it back, only for the shaft to wedge itself across two horizontal struts.

  The line went taut.

  Rory hooked the grapple to the line, and rel
eased it. It slid down across the gulf, hitting the rooftop barrier with a dull clank.

  ‘Easy does it,’ the Doctor said.

  With gentle tugs and manipulations, they worked the grapple over the barrier, and yanked on it hard, snapping it into place. The zip-line felt secure.

  ‘First class!’ the Doctor shouted. ‘Well done everyone!’

  They tied the line to one of the steel bars overarching the viewing deck, and the only thing then was to decide who would be making the one-way trip.

  ‘You’re needed here, Doctor,’ Rory argued. ‘That’s why I should go.’

  ‘I can’t allow that,’ Andrei put in. ‘It was my idea. I should go.’

  ‘You understand just how dangerous this is going to be?’ the Doctor said.

  ‘But it’s our only chance,’ Rory replied.

  ‘Perhaps we should draw lots for it,’ Andrei said. ‘But not you, Doctor.’

  Rory agreed. ‘Definitely not you.’

  ‘Daddy! ‘ Sophie shrieked.

  They spun around, and saw that Harry had removed

  his jacket, looped it over the zip-line, and was standing on top of the barrier. ‘Age and ugliness before beauty and usefulness!’ he said with a grin.

  ‘Harry, wait!’ the Doctor shouted.

  But Harry had leapt from the platform and was already sailing down across the gulf.

  Krauzzen tracked Harry’s progress through the super-powered electroscope on his photon-rifle. He was still at ground level, but concealed in one of the base’s ruined outbuildings. His minions were gathered around him, wondering why he didn’t fire. Harry had almost completed his crossing when Krauzzen lowered his rifle.

  ‘Let’s see what they come up with,’ he said.

  ‘Shouldn’t we at least advance on the tower?’ someone asked.

  ‘He’d pick us all off before we’d crossed the open ground.’ Krauzzen shouldered his weapon. ‘Be patient.

  I’m interested to see just how deep this Doctor’s ingenuity goes.’

  Hary struck the barrier on the edge of the Transduction Centre roof with bone-rattling force, but managed to hang on and got his legs over the parapet. When he stood up, he looked shaken by the impact, but staggered away towards the Emergency Maintenance Shed. Dora and Sophie hugged each other with relief, and then cheered loudly, urging him on. Harry glanced back and waved, before struggling to slide his bulk through the dome’s narrow aperture.

  Once inside, he was gone for several minutes. They watched from the tower in silence. There was a shrill but muffled clattering - as of something being struck.

  ‘The glass case over the breaker-switch,’ the Doctor said. ‘He’s trying to smash his way in. That won’t be easy.’

  Clearly it wasn’t, because several more, painfully long minutes passed, before there was a sudden silence.

  Everyone held their breath, not sure what to expect And then the Doctor smiled and pointed.

  Half a mile away, a set of runway lights were gleaming through the drifting murk. Other lights began flickering to life. There was a sudden hum of electricity, and the hiss of a valve being released. A puff of flame appeared from a nearby stack of pipes. From the distance, came the repeated echoing of a klaxon.

  That was when they heard the voice of Amy Pond.

  ‘Doctor, this is Amy… are you receiving me? I repeat, are you receiving me?’

  The Doctor dashed for the ladder. On the control deck, he found his lashed-together radio set aglow with power.

  ‘Hello, Amy,’ he shouted into its transmitter. ‘This is the Doctor, receiving.’

  ‘Where have you been?’ Her voice turned cross. ‘I’ve been trying you for ages.’

  ‘Sorry about that. We’ve had a few ups and downs.’

  ‘Fine, whatever… now can you please just get us out of this?’

  ‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to get yourself out of this one, Amy. And us.’

  There was a brief, static-filled silence.

  ‘What?’ Amy said finally.

  ‘There’s nothing I can do for you without the TARDIS.

  So you’ll need to pilot it down here.’

  ‘This is a joke, yeah?’

  ‘And as we’re about sixty metres above the ground, and your target area is roughly twenty metres by twenty, a precision landing will be nine points of the law. Though that shouldn’t be too difficult because you can home in on my sonic screwdriver. Oh… always assuming the frequency isn’t being scrambled by Torodon interplanetary satellites. In which case, you’ll need to bypass the electromagnetic spectrum, and feed the—’

  ‘Doctor, just stop! You know I’ve never flown the TARDIS.’

  ‘Now’s not the time for nit-picking, Amelia.’

  ‘This is madness.’

  ‘Or a touch of genius. Well know one way or the other very soon. Now pay attention, because I’ll be giving you precise instructions.’

  ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’

  ‘Have you ever known anyone more in control of himself in times of crisis?’

  ‘You don’t really want me to answer that question, do you?’

  ‘Possibly not. Now…’ He was about to issue directives, when he heard Amy talking to someone else, apparently trying to reassure whoever it was that they were safe inside the TARDIS - despite a furious banging and crashing on its door.

  ‘Amy, who is that with you?’

  ‘What? Oh, some bloke called Xorax.’

  ‘Xorax? A Torodon?’

  ‘He’s a prisoner I released.’

  ‘Krauzzen was holding a fellow Torodon prisoner?’

  the Doctor asked.

  ‘Does it matter? I’ll make sure he doesn’t touch anything…’

  ‘Listen! ‘ Suddenly, the Doctor had to struggle to keep the excitement from his voice. ‘Keep this Xorax with you.

  At all costs, don’t lose him.’

  ‘And where am I going to lose him to?’

  ‘Don’t be flippant, Pond. And listen carefully. It’s

  not every day I give a crash course in trans-dimensional navigation.’

  Rory listened tensely, hoping Amy understood more of what the Doctor said next than he did. He vaguely recognised some of the terms - ‘in-flight stabiliser’, ‘time-flow regulator’, ‘space-directional modulator’ - because he’d heard the Doctor mention them while busying around the TARDIS console, but in reality they might have been a foreign language. He was distracted by sounds of cheering from below.

  He scrambled down the ladder and joined the others.

  Lights were now visible all over the spaceport and even beyond, in the neighbouring domes. Steam vented from outflow pipes on the Transduction Centre roof. A reflector dish was rotating on its axis. However, the cheers were for Harry, who was limping back towards the parapet.

  When he reached it, he placed one hand on his belly, and bowed solemnly.

  He never saw the other figure rise into view a few metres away from him.

  Even if he had, he wouldn’t have recognised the short, squat figure of Colonel Xon Krelbin. The Colonel’s black vinyl fatigues were rent and torn, and glistened with blood; his face was so beaten and clawed that it was a miracle he was on his feet at all. But he was, and he was now levelling a rifle at Harry’s back. Rory shouted a hoarse warning. The others shouted too. It all came too late. A searing beam of energy struck Harry full on. He froze, before vanishing in a blaze of blue light.

  *

  On the control deck, the Doctor only half-heard the consternation below. He’d given Amy sufficient data to programme the TARDIS, and had now made a much longer-range transmission, contacting the Main Police Despatch Centre on LP9. From that point on it had become really difficult.

  ‘Look,’ he said, infuriated. ‘I wouldn’t be using this channel if I was a prank caller. I need to speak to Police Chief Zalu, and I need to speak to him right now.’

  The despatch officer replied again that his commander did not take personal calls. />
  ‘Does this sound like a personal call?’ the Doctor snapped. ‘Do I sound like I’m trying to arrange a boys’

  night out?’

  Rory clambered up into view. He gestured at the Doctor, who tried to wave him away.

  ‘Harry’s just been killed!’ Rory blurted.

  The Doctor went cold. ‘What… how?’

  ‘One of the hunters climbed up to the roof and shot him. Disintegrated him.’

  The Doctor could still hear the despatch officer spouting negatives into his ear, and now responded angrily. ‘Listen, I may be cut off any moment now. In fact we may be about to lose all power here, so please think about this very carefully: would I have patched myself through to the heart of your classified network if I didn’t (a) have astonishing abilities which are surely worthy of investigation, and (b) have information for Chief Zalu of quite staggering importance?’

  There was a brief silence, before the officer asked: ‘What is this information?’

  ‘Tell him that Krauzzen…’ The Doctor paused on

  hearing an intake of breath. ‘That’s right… tell him that Xorg Krauzzen is holding a Torodon national against his will, and threatening to having him executed. Did you g e t - ‘

  The radio went dead. All over the complex, lights faded and died. Klaxons fell silent. Steam ceased to pour from vents.

  With no other option, the Doctor followed Rory down to the viewing deck.

  Andrei, rather awkwardly, was attempting to comfort Dora and Sophie, who clutched each other and wept. The rest of the fugitives regarded them with woe-stricken faces. A jeering voice drew the Doctor’s attention to the Transduction Centre roof, where the battered shape of Colonel Krelbin had re-emerged from the Emergency Maintenance Shed and now stood on the parapet, holding his knife aloft in one hand and, in the other, what looked like a shock of blood-streaked hair. At first, the Doctor had the horrible notion this might be Harry’s scalp, but then remembered Rory saying that Harry had been disintegrated.