Prisoner of the Daleks

by Trevor Baxendale

  The four of them trooped slowly, awkwardly, across the cavern, winding their way through the other slaves and clouds of steam. They were taken to an area littered with rocks and rubble, where several work units – groups of four humans chained together – were picking up rocks and passing them along the line to a large metal skip.

  'They don't need us to do this,' said Cuttin' Edge in disgust. 'They could do this faster an' better with machines. Why use us?'

  'Because they can,' said Koral. 'Because they like to. Subjugation of the lower races. It's Dalek policy.'

  A Dalek rolled by, watching them, and Cuttin' Edge picked up a rock. 'Best get started,' he said. 'Pass it along.'

  Koral passed the rock to the woman, who let her daughter take it to the skip and throw it in. The girl moved quickly back to stand close to her mother, waiting for the next rock. The chains that bound them all together rattled with every movement.

  Again, Cuttin' Edge felt the fury building inside him. But they were surrounded by Daleks – all of them looking for an excuse to exterminate. There was nothing he could do.

  Except, he realised numbly, whatever the Daleks wanted.

  'All the detention cells they must have in this place, and I get to share one with you.'

  The Doctor sat up on the bench. 'It could be worse. You could have been having your brain scooped out of your skull and dissected by now.'

  'Tough choice.' Bowman sat back on a narrow metal bench and folded his arms.

  'At least this way we've got a bit more time. You've been put on the back burner while they think what to do with me.'

  'Whatever.'

  'And they've put us together deliberately,' said the Doctor, looking upwards. The cell was metal and otherwise featureless – apart from a protected light fitting in the ceiling and a camera mounted high up on one wall which resembled a Dalek eyestalk. 'They'll be watching everything we do. They want to hear what we've got to say to each other.'

  'Which is nothing.'

  'Oh come on. Talking is good! I like talking.'

  Bowman closed his eyes. 'Yeah, I'd noticed.'

  They sat in silence for a minute before the Doctor said, 'So. Space Major Bowman. You're a bit of a dark horse, aren't you?'

  Bowman looked balefully at the Doctor. 'Don't you ever give up?'

  'Never. So come on. How come you're so important to the Daleks?'

  'I thought you said they'd be listening to us,' Bowman growled, jerking a thumb at the eyestalk on the wall.

  'Yeah, but they'll know all this stuff already. They'll probably just turn over and watch whatever's on the other side.' The Doctor sat forward and pointed at the white scar on Bowman's forearm. 'That's what gave you away, isn't it? Where you took the old Earth Command transmitter out of your arm. Everyone over the rank of captain has one surgically implanted when they're commissioned. It's a little microchip that transmits your location and health status – basically whether you're alive or dead – back to base. Helps Earth Command keep track of all its important military assets right across the galaxy. But you took yours out, which is strictly against orders. Are you a deserter, Space Major Bowman?'

  Bowman's eyes narrowed. The Doctor was staring at him, eyes huge, mouth hanging open in a half grin. Bowman felt like punching his lights out.

  'It's a bit more complicated than that,' he said eventually.

  The Doctor sat back, put his hands behind his head and stretched his long legs out on the bench. 'Go on, I'm listening.'

  'Well,' Bowman rumbled, 'maybe it just seemed complicated at the time. Thing is, I was once a good soldier with a bright future. Did some good stuff in the First Dalek Incursion. Got promoted. Somehow ended up a Space Major and before I knew it I was helping to design the defence system for Earth Central. I'd gone from being a fighting soldier on the front line to a security consultant sitting behind a desk. Didn't like it one bit – but I did a good job.'

  A bitter look flashed across his face at the memory. 'When I finished, Earth Command decided that I was now a security risk because I knew so much and the safest thing to do was wipe my memory.'

  The Doctor winced sympathetically. 'No wonder you didn't want to involve Earth Command in this business.'

  'Yeah, well, I didn't fancy a future as a brainless old trooper in some spacers' home. So I got out.'

  'You deserted.'

  'I cut the chip out of my arm and buried it in the desert on the planet Mykron. And then I went on the run.'

  'But carried on doing the only thing you knew – killing Daleks.'

  'The only thing I wanted to do. Worked around the fringes of the Earth worlds for a while, on the Wayfarer. But eventually, when Earth was getting desperate, they started recruiting bounty hunters to harass the Dalek forces on the frontier planets. I jumped at the chance to kill some Daleks, and it paid good money.'

  'Bit of a comedown, though, for a high-ranking officer in the Space Service.'

  'Better than winding up a brainless old trooper.' Bowman considered where he was and then added, 'Looks like that's gonna happen now anyhow. The defence system for Earth Central is still wet-wired into my brain. The Daleks know that – I've been on their most wanted list for years. Now I'm here and I can't help thinking I should have taken the brain-wipe when it was first offered.'

  'Rubbish. While you're still alive and you've still got all your marbles, there's always hope. Always.'

  Bowman raised an eyebrow. 'You're pretty optimistic for a man who's sitting in a cell at the very centre of the Daleks' biggest prison and interrogation centre.'

  The Doctor was suddenly struck by a thought. 'Have you ever heard of something called the Dalek Inquisitor General?'

  Bowman's eyes opened fractionally. 'Where did you hear that name?'

  'The Command Dalek said I was going to be interrogated by the Dalek Inquisitor General. Mean anything to you?'

  Bowman sat upright. His whole demeanour had subtly changed: he was alert, tense, and his eyes were uncharacteristically wide. 'You've got to be kidding. You've never heard of Dalek X?'

  'Should I have?'

  Bowman drew a deep breath.

  'The Dalek Inquisitor General is one of Earth Command's priority targets. His Space Service security designation is X. Hence the nickname – Dalek X. If they've called him in then you're in more trouble than I thought. In fact, you must have put every damned Dalek from here to Skaro on red alert.' He leant forward, staring intently at his cellmate as if examining him properly for the very first time. 'Just who the hell are you? Really?'

  'Never mind about me. Tell me what you know about this Dalek X.'

  'Well, he's a whole deal of trouble. It's not very often a particular Dalek gets a reputation – but he's one of the Supreme Dalek's top commanders and a helluva tough customer. They say he's put the order in to exterminate more humans than anyone else in history. I've heard him described as the Devil in Dalek form.'

  The Doctor sagged. 'Suddenly I'm not feeling quite so optimistic.'

  EIGHTEEN

  Cuttin' Edge was still hurting. He was starting to shake, almost as if he had a fever. Spasms of burning pain ran through his legs every few seconds. Occasionally he would stumble, or fall painfully on one knee, and Koral would have to pull him quickly to his feet before the Daleks noticed. His heart hammered in his chest every time a Dalek came near.

  The Daleks glided among the workers, some armed with a kind of electric tine in place of the usual sucker. Any slave thought to be slacking was prodded. There would be a loud crackle and the slave would instantly move faster, blinking away hot tears of pain.

  'I can't stand much more of this,' muttered Cuttin' Edge.

  Koral looked at him. 'Don't stop now. You are stronger than almost anyone else here.'

  'I don't mean that. I can keep on shiftin' rocks from now until doomsday, if my legs hold out. I'm talkin' about watching those scumbuckets torturin' innocent people.'

  'Just keep working,' said a voice from the back of the line. It was the
woman. Her voice wavered as she spoke, but her green eyes were steady and determined. 'If you do anything stupid, the Daleks will kill all of us. Me and my daughter included.'

  Cuttin' Edge lowered his gaze.

  'I'm Jenifa,' said the woman. There was the ghost of a smile on her lips. 'This is Kuli.'

  'Hi,' said Kuli in a small voice.

  Cuttin' Edge found himself waving back at the little girl. She was just like her mother – long, straight hair, determined eyes. 'How long you been here?' he asked.

  'Long enough to know that you're badly injured,' Jenifa replied.

  'I'm OK.'

  'You can barely stand. You're shaking.'

  Koral said, 'He was shot in the legs by a Dalek. Some kind of stun blast.'

  'It's neurological shock,' Jenifa explained. 'I was a nurse on the planet Auros. When the Daleks intercepted the refugee fleet, we were all brought here to work. But I've helped treat injuries like yours before.'

  'Is he going to die, Mummy?' asked Kuli. She stared at Cuttin' Edge in wonder, as if expecting him to keel over any minute.

  'Hey,' said Cuttin' Edge. 'I ain't goin' anywhere yet, babe.'

  'Does it matter?' asked Jenifa. 'Looks to me like we're already in Hell as it is.'

  A Dalek descended through the mist. 'DO NOT SPEAK. YOU ARE HERE TO WORK. TALKING IS FORBIDDEN. OBEY THE DALEKS.'

  'Yeah, yeah,' grumbled Cuttin' Edge. 'Same old same old.'

  The Dalek's electric prod extended and a spark leapt into Cuttin' Edge's chest. He cried out and sat down heavily, chains rattling. Koral grabbed him and tried to pull him upright. It was difficult. Cuttin' Edge felt as if his legs were on fire, and they were as weak as a newborn lamb's. He held on to her for support, teeth gritted.

  'YOU CANNOT STAND,' observed the Dalek. 'IF YOU CANNOT STAND YOU CANNOT WORK.'

  'We've been through this already,' snarled Cuttin' Edge. 'An' I've told you: I'm still standin'. And I'll still be standin' when you're a pile of rust on the floor. Got that?'

  The Dalek eyed him implacably. 'IF YOU DO NOT WORK YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED.'

  'Yeah,' nodded Cuttin' Edge, bending down and picking up a rock. 'So you said.' For a moment he contemplated ramming the rock into the Dalek's eye. Wouldn't do it a whole lot of harm, but it might make him feel a bit better. Just for a second. But then he thought of Koral and Jenifa and Kuli. And he turned and passed the rock on. It was transferred down the line and dropped into the skip with a loud clang.

  Satisfied, the Dalek moved on.

  And, teeth grinding as he fought back the overwhelming pain, Cuttin' Edge bent down and picked up another rock. His legs trembled and his heart pounded. But he continued working.

  In the main control room, the Command Dalek swung around to face a subordinate. 'REPORT!'

  'EXCAVATION WORK ON THE PLANETARY CORE IS BEHIND SCHEDULE,' said the Dalek. 'SLAVE OUTPUT IS FALLING. RESOURCES HAVE BEEN DIVERTED TO ENSURE MAXIMUM SECURITY ON LEVEL NINE ZERO ONE.'

  Level nine zero one was Arkheon's most secure area. That was where the Doctor was being held.

  'UNDERSTOOD,' replied the Command Dalek. 'REPORT ON THE SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH TEAM.'

  'PROGRESS CONTINUES. THE RESEARCH TEAM ESTIMATES THRESHOLD BREAKTHROUGH IN THREE SOLAR DAYS.'

  'THAT IS UNSATISFACTORY! THE ARKHEON THRESHOLD MUST BE BROKEN AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. DIVERT ALL AVAILABLE RESOURCES. PRIORITY ONE!' The Command Dalek glided over to one of the main control panels, where several circular screens showed views of the surrounding cosmos. 'THE DALEK INQUISITOR GENERAL IS DUE TO ARRIVE IN FOUR HUNDRED RELS! THE FLEET HAS BEEN PLACED ON FULL ALERT ON THE EDGE OF THE ARKHEON SYSTEM. WE MUST BE READY!'

  There was no mistaking the rising pitch of the Command Dalek's voice. The subordinate's lights flashed urgently. 'I OBEY!' it shrieked, and turned to leave the room quickly.

  The Command Dalek watched the screens. One showed a fleet of Dalek saucers flying in formation towards Arkheon space. A tiny thrill of anticipation passed through the shrunken creature inside the bronze casing. Anticipation and fear. It could sense, like every other Dalek in the room, that history was about to be made. Or, if not actually made, then torn apart.

  Dalek X was coming.

  The Inquisitor General had adopted the security designation given to him by Earth Command. He understood that it inspired fear in humans – fear of the unknown, fear of his ruthlessness, fear of his complete devotion to the Supreme Dalek.

  Dalek X had just one purpose, one goal: the total and utter destruction of the human race. Mastery over every other life form. Domination of the universe at any cost. These were the central beliefs of every Dalek in existence, but Dalek X was driven by something else: the certain knowledge that the only way the Dalek race would ever achieve its ultimate aim was by conquering both space and time. He reported only to the Supreme Dalek on Skaro. He was feared by everyone and everything in the galaxy.

  And he was coming for the Doctor.

  'We've got to get out of here,' said the Doctor. He was moving around the cell, checking the walls and floor.

  'Don't be stupid,' growled Bowman.

  'You can either sit there and criticise, or you can help.'

  Bowman snorted. 'What are you looking for? A trap door?'

  'Anything. Anything at all.' The Doctor dropped to his hands and knees, pressing his ear to the metal floor. 'I can't hear a thing. I think we're on the lowest level.'

  'Figures.'

  The Doctor jumped to his feet. 'Well, it means one good thing: the only way is up!'

  'Feeling optimistic again?'

  'Oh yes!'

  'You're insane.'

  'I'm in here. And I want to be out there.' The Doctor pointed at the door. 'Is that so crazy?'

  'Save your breath, Doctor. You'll need it for screaming when Dalek X gets hold of you.'

  'By the time Dalek X gets here, I intend to be long gone. But if you see him, pass on my regards.'

  'You're never gonna give up, are you?'

  'Are you?'

  'Have you ever escaped from a Dalek prison cell before, Doctor?'

  'Loads of times. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. "I visited Skaro and all I got was this lousy T-shirt." Believe me, it can be done.'

  'All right.' Bowman got slowly to his feet. He was as tall as the Doctor but he was a lot broader. He seemed to fill the little cell. 'What do we do?'

  'Bang on the door. Yell for the guards. You say I'm sick – I'm having a fit or something. Or I'm dead! Yes, tell 'em I'm dead. I've just collapsed on the floor – double heart attack. That'll bring them running.' The Doctor quickly lay on the floor, spread-eagled with his eyes shut. 'Go on!'

  Bowman thumped on the door. 'Hey, Dalek!' he called. 'I know you're out there. You better come in and check this out. The Doctor's collapsed. I think he's dead.'

  Silence.

  The Doctor opened one eye. 'Any sign?'

  'Yeah, I think they've sent for an ambulance.'

  'This is no time to develop a sense of humour, Bowman.' The Doctor got back up on his feet. 'I thought I could rely on you to be dour and pessimistic.'

  'Hey, I'm just killing time until they come to rip my brains out. Meanwhile, I'm wondering exactly what they must be thinking, watching you do all this.' He pointed up at the camera eye on the wall. 'Or had you forgotten they're watching our every move and listening to our every word?'

  The Doctor looked up at the eyestalk, almost comically surprised. Then he turned to face Bowman, and, together, they burst out laughing.

  'Well,' gasped the Doctor after a few moments, wiping his eyes, 'it was worth a try!'

  Bowman shook his head in wonderment. The two men stared at each other, a unique moment of comradeship passing between them. Locked together in the deepest dungeon of a Dalek prison, they both knew the end was in sight.

  In the distance, echoing through the steel walls of their cell, a klaxon sounded. A warning alarm. It was the kind of noise that made the guts turn over.

  Bowman sw
allowed. 'Dalek X is here,' he said.

  NINETEEN

  On the edge of the Arkheon solar system, a squadron of Dalek saucers emerged from hyperspace and swept towards the broken planet that glittered like a tiny diamond in the glare of its distant sun.

  Six outrider saucers zoomed ahead of the giant Exterminator-class flagship belonging to the Supreme Dalek's Inquisitor General.

  It was the first of its kind; the ultimate expression of Dalek power. Ten immense antigravity impeller engines thrust the ship onwards, so powerful that they left a trail of time distortion in its wake. The neutronic reactor at the ship's centre supplied gigantic power to the vast array of particle-beam weapons, missiles and energy-shield repulsors. The saucer carried a standard crew complement of five hundred Daleks plus ten ranking commanders and, at the very top, secure in his Dalekenium plate-armoured control dome, Dalek X.

  This squadron of ships had broken away from the command battle fleet, redirected from Skaro, for one purpose only: to bring the Primary Intelligence Unit, led by the Inquisitor General, to Arkheon. Its mission: to interrogate and destroy the definitive enemy of the Daleks – the renegade Time Lord known only as the Doctor.

  The ships swooped into orbit around the shattered remains of the prison planet, scything through what was left of the upper atmosphere and cracking the deserted ruins of its once-beautiful cities with a succession of giant sonic booms.

  The Exterminator settled into a geostationary orbit level with the huge cavern that housed the landing port and upper tiers of the Dalek prison facility. The saucer was far too big to land in the cavern or even dry dock. It simply hovered, its engines throbbing with enough suppressed power to shake loose stones from the edges of the cave.

  Hatches slid open around the saucer's edge, and a phalanx of Daleks poured out in strict formation, heading for the landing platforms.

  There were many more Daleks assembled in ranks on the various levels of the Arkheon base. At the very front was the gleaming bronze shape of the Command Dalek.

  The Exterminator Daleks hovered as a small unit broke away and floated down towards the reception area. There were two elite guard Daleks, their black domes continually sweeping from side to side, double gun-sticks raised, and they came in to land first. Behind them were four assault Daleks, fitted with laser-cutting claws rather than suckers.