by Unknown
'Mm-hmm,' the Doctor responded.
'He's not listening to us,' Amy said to Samewell and Bel. 'His mind's gone walkabout. He's going into thinky overdrive.'
'Does he get like this often?' asked Arabel.
'Yeah,' said Amy. 'Check this out.' Still walking, she called out over her shoulder, 'I see the walruses are very big this season.'
'Mmmmm.'
'They're flowering very early.'
'Mm-hmmm.'
'Nice to see them playing glockenspiels, though, eh?'
'Mmmmm.'
With her eyes and mouth open wide in mock dismay, Amy shook her head at Samewell and Bel, and made them both laugh.
Suddenly, the Doctor was right beside them. He was staring straight ahead. He was alarmingly alert. 'We've got to go back,' he said quietly.
'What?' Amy asked.
He forced them to stop walking by sticking his arm out in front of them, and craned his head, listening.
'What?' Amy repeated.
'We've definitely got to go back,' he said.
'Into the stinky room? Why?'
'Shhh!' he said. 'Can't you hear that?'
Amy couldn't hear anything.
'We've got to go back,' said the Doctor. 'Or at the very least, we've got to not go this way.'
Then Amy heard it too. It was far away and coming from up ahead. It was the sound of footsteps. Heavy, regular, lumbering footsteps.
'Stay!' the Doctor whispered to them, as though his raised index finger would freeze them to the spot. He edged forward until he could peer down the corridor ahead.
The footsteps were getting closer. He saw movement first, then a shadow, cast on the corridor wall by a row of solamps.
There was no mistaking the silhouette.
He turned to them.
'Ice Warriors,' he said. 'Coming this way. Run.'
'Regular running or run for your life running?' asked Amy.
'What do you think?' the Doctor replied.
They ran.
They ran back through the prep room and into the organic gallery, ignoring the smell. The Doctor skidded to a halt in the doorway, checking the door panel to see if there was any way to close and lock the hatch behind them. Whatever had bored through the mechanism to open it had fused the hatch motors. The hatch was wedged open.
'Keep going!' he yelled, running to catch up with them. They were running down the length of the vast gallery, following the grilled metal pathways between the stinking vats and the glass tanks clotted with slime.
'How do you know there'll be an exit at the far end?'
Amy shouted at the Doctor.
'I don't!' he replied.
'Then what?'
'We don't have a lot of choice!' he replied.
Amy glanced back. Always a mistake, but she did it anyway.
She could see the entry hatch fifty metres behind her. The first of the Ice Warriors had appeared. There were three of them. They were so big, they had to come through the hatchway one at a time. There was something flat and expressionless about their faces.
The overhead light banks reflected off their red lenses.
They walked like hit-men, hired killers wearing expensive shades.
At least, she thought, the rows of vats and metal tanks would provide a little shelter and cover if the Ice Men started using their guns. Warriors. Warriors.
One last glimpse behind her showed her they weren't packing guns at all.
They were carrying swords. Dirty great, double-handed, barb-hilted broadswords.
'Oh great she said.
Chapter
12
Brighter Visions Beam Afar
The Doctor heard Amy's strangled expression of alarm, and glanced back at their pursuers as well. He saw what she had just seen. The brutal, medieval weapons that the Ice Warriors were carrying with such brutal, medieval intent put an extra spurt of vigour into his pace. He began to lead the way, urging Samewell and Bel after him.
'Swords?' screeched Amy, lengthening her stride to keep up. 'Swords? Honestly? For really real?'
'I have no idea what that's about!' the Doctor yelled back at her.
'Yes, you do!' Amy objected. 'You always do!'
'Well,' the Doctor shouted over his shoulder, sprinting hell for leather, 'I suppose I could speculate that the Ice Warriors are an ancient and martial society that takes great pride in preserving and maintaining the traditions of weapon-craft honed by their ancestors, and that the use of ancient, bladed combat weapons suggests an intent to ritually slaughter or ceremonially execute! But I didn't think that would be a particularly cheerful thing to say while they were chasing us!' he added.
At least half a dozen Ice Warriors were doggedly following them down the length of the gallery. Still more had appeared at the hatch. The nearest Warriors seemed to be calling out to them. They were making strange, guttural noises, at least, perhaps uttering warnings, or issuing orders for their fleet quarry to halt or surrender. It was hard to tell. Each bark sounded less like words, and more like the pneumatic spit of a torque wrench driven by compressed air.
Arabel was lagging behind the Doctor, Samewell and Amy. Her long and heavy winter skirts were seriously encumbering her.
'Come on!' Samewell exclaimed, grabbing her by the arm and propelling her ahead of him. He looked around in time to see Amy trip over the lip of a deck plate and sprawl headlong.
'Go!' Samewell yelled to Bel, and darted back to help Amy.
She had winded herself. He hauled her to her feet.
'Come on!' he begged.
'O-OK!'
'Are you hurt?'
'I banged my knees,' Amy said, fighting to draw a breath.
'You've got to keep running!' he insisted.
They looked back.
An Ice Warrior was just twenty metres away. It came around the end of a row of vats, saw them, and raised its sword in a braced, two-handed grip, hilt high, the blade tipped down, like a ninja with a katana. Or whatever those swords in the kung fu movies Rory liked were called. Katanas? Kanteenas? Katonas?
The Ice Warrior didn't break stride. It seemed to accelerate, as if it was charging them.
Amy and Samewell fled, his hand clamped firmly around hers.
Leading the furious escape, the Doctor spotted an exit hatch in the end wall of the farm gallery. It was exactly the same as the hatch they'd entered the gallery by, except that it was shut.
It was the only way out.
He ran up to it, shoe-sliding the last few steps so he slammed into it. The hatch was sealed tight, but there was another palm-checker built into the frame. It hadn't been tampered with or bored through. It was in full working order.
The Doctor slapped his right hand flat against the plate. A neon glow travelled up the metal under his hand. Then red lights began to flash in all four comers of the door and an angry klaxon sounded repeatedly.
The door did not recognise his print.
It wasn't going to open.
'Ah,' said the Doctor. For a split second, he started to reach for his sonic screwdriver. Then he remembered that it was a waste of time. The Ice Warriors were far too close.
Arabel arrived beside him, and Amy and Samewell were just behind her. The Doctor turned to the terrified Arabel, grabbed her by the wrist, and jammed her right hand against the palm-checker. A neon glow travelled up the metal under her hand. There was a click, and then a hiss, and the hatch opened.
The Doctor bundled Arabel into the hatch, and then grabbed Amy and Samewell as they ran up, and shoved them through too. He turned in the open doorway, and took one last look at the advancing Ice Warriors. He grinned.
'Warriors of the Tanssor clan!' he cried out to them.
'Warriors of the Tanssor clan line of the Ixon Mons family, inform your warlord that the Belot'ssar greets him!'
They stopped in their tracks and stared at him. He threw a cocksure salute, stepped backwards through the hatch and pressed the palm-plate. The klaxon sounded again, and the red
corner lights flashed. The hatch did not shut with the dramatic flourish he'd been going for.
'Still got to sort that part out,' he acknowledged, pointing to the lock mechanism. The Ice Warriors started forward with renewed determination, raising their blades.
Amy reached past the Doctor and pressed her hand against the plate. A neon glow travelled up the metal under her hand. There was a click, and then a hiss, and then the hatch clanged shut in the faces of the Ice Warriors, locking them out.
The Doctor looked at Amy. They were nose to nose.
'How did you know that would work?' he asked.
'I didn't,' she said.
'Good thing it did, though, eh?' he pointed out.
'I would think so,' she replied.
They both jerked back a step as several echoing blows were delivered to the other side of the hatch.
'That'll keep them out for a moment,' said the Doctor.
'What if they cut through the lock like they cut the other ones?' Amy asked.
'Oh, they will,' said the Doctor. 'But now we have a head start. And it's because you're human.'
'What?' asked Amy.
'It's because you're human,' the Doctor repeated.
'And for those of us who aren't fluent in non-sequitur?' Amy asked.
'You could operate the hatch,' explained the Doctor,
'because the palm-checker recognised your genetic code as human. It's the same reason that Bel could open the door. Humans built this, so human gene-codes work the locks.'
'Even human genes as old as mine?' asked Amy.
'Gene-code is gene-code,' replied the Doctor.
'Wait,' said Arabel, flustered and looking at the Doctor, 'if you can't open the lock, doesn't that mean you're not human?'
The Doctor glanced awkwardly at Amy. 'Ah, yes.
How do I explain that best?' he began.
Before he could answer, Amy shrieked, 'Samewell!'
Samewell's outstretched hand was hovering above the palm checker. At Amy's protest, he snatched it back.
'I just wanted to see if it would work for me too,' he said. He pouted.
Several more dull but herculean blows landed on the other side of the hatch and made him recoil.
'I'd best try it on another door, though, eh?'
Samewell added.
'I think that would be healthier for all of us,' the Doctor said.
He looked around, and took stock of where they had ended up. It was a service room, full of metal shelves and hoppers. The shelves were racked with tools and equipment that looked part surgical and part horticultural. The hoppers were packed with mechanical spare parts wrapped in plastic. He picked up a few items and examined them.
'We can't really stay here, Doctor,' Amy said.
'No, we can't,' said the Doctor.
To reinforce her point, the banging on the hatch ceased, and was replaced by a high-pitched and very unpleasant wailing noise. It was like a dentist's drill with the volume turned up.
'No, we really can't,' said the Doctor. 'That's a focused sonic drill. They'll be through that hatch in two shakes. Two shakes if we're lucky. Probably more like one shake. Let's get going.'
They hurried away from the painful noise to the end of the service room. There was another hatch, shut tight.
'Now you can try it, Samewell,' said the Doctor.
Samewell put his hand on the plate. The hatch opened.
Samewell looked extremely pleased with himself.
Passing through the hatch, they entered a gloomy corridor lit by a line of blue overhead lights. It stretched away in both directions. From the left came the roar of heavy turbine machinery. The Doctor took them to the right. He got Samewell to close the hatch behind them.
'That's two barriers they've got to get through,' the Doctor remarked.
Feeling a little more secure, they walked briskly down the corridor.
'What was that you were saying to the Ice Warriors before we slammed the door in their faces?' Amy asked.
'Oh, you know. Saying hello.'
'How do you say hello to an Ice Warrior?' she asked.
'Um, "Hail, Ice Warrior"?'
'You're not as funny as you think you are,' said Amy.
They reached another hatch. This time, Amy opened it.
The room on the other side was dark, but quickly woke up as automatic lights flickered on. The air smelled stale and slightly dusty. It was a large room, lined in pale white shipskin, with a wide, flat floor covered in odd patterns. The patterns were circles and spirals, inlaid in a fine, contrasting metal filament.
There was another hatch at the opposite end of the chamber, and one side of the space was fitted with complicated workstations and consoles. There were also two chairs facing the console station. The chairs had high, padded backs and raised armrests. The area looked like the cockpit of a spaceship.
The Doctor walked over to the workstation area. He seemed intrigued by the control systems. 'Go and see what's behind the next door,' he said to the others.
'Don't go too far.'
'What are you going to be up to?' Amy asked.
'I'm going to look at these,' he said, leaning over the consoles. He ran a speculative finger along the fascia above a line of touch-sensitive pads. Dust came away on his fingertip. 'I think I know what this is,' he said.
'In fact, I'm sure I know what this is.'
'Really?' asked Amy.
'Give me a moment,' said the Doctor, investigating further. He gestured over his shoulder. 'Look at the floor, Pond. Look at the patterns on the floor. Where have we seen that before?'
'Uh, I don't know?' Amy said.
'Think about it. We've seen it recently.'
'Really? I don't know.'
'Then hang on a minute,' he said. He sat down in one of the high-backed chairs, laced his fingers together, and cracked his knuckles. He had already pressed a few switches at random. Several indicator lights had come on. The consoles began to hum with power. 'Allow me to show you what this is.'
'Have we really got time to stop and play around, Doctor?' Amy asked.
'We've got time to stop and play around with this,'
said the Doctor. 'If,' he added, 'this is what I think it is.
And, as I believe we established, it is.'
Arabel and Samewell returned from their examination of the next door.
'It's another hallway,' said Bel, 'and then some rooms beyond that. We didn't go too far.'
'Good,' said the Doctor. He adjusted some more controls.
'What are you doing?' asked Samewell.
'He's showing off,' said Amy.
'I'm not,' said the Doctor. 'I'm bringing these long-dormant systems back online, and juicing them up to operational power.'
'Yeah, but he's not telling us why he's doing that, or what it is he's doing it to,' Amy said to Bel and Samewell, 'and the reason is because that way it'll be more impressive when it finally does whatever it's going to do.'
'No harm ever came from a bit of dramatic anticipation,' said the Doctor. 'There is an art to the building up of suspense. A prince from Denmark told me that.' He gently tinkered with a few more settings, and then picked up a chunky remote-control device that slotted into a socket in one of the consoles. He stood up.
'Come on,' the Doctor said to them. 'Come over here. Into the centre of the room. Hurry now.'
Power was building. They could all hear the ambient tone. Light levels in the room were starting to increase too.
'What have you done?' Amy asked.
'It's safe, I swear,' said the Doctor. He made a tiny adjustment via the remote control.
The hum of the mounting power levels turned into a lazier throb, like a slowly cycling energy pulse.
'OK,' he said. 'Ready? Hold on to your hats.'
'I don't have a hat,' said Samewell.
'You should get one,' replied the Doctor. 'Hats are cool.'
The Doctor pressed an activator on the control pad.
The light in the ro
om around them altered quite dramatically. Not only did it shimmer and dim, the actual quality of the light seemed to change, becoming softer and less intense. It was like a scene change in a West End play. The effect was so odd, Arabel, Samewell and Amy all murmured in surprise.
Then they realised what they were looking at. They blinked. They saw what the chamber around them had very suddenly turned into. Their second murmur of surprise was much louder and more appreciative than the first.
The Doctor grinned.
They weren't in the same room any more.
They were somewhere else entirely.
Rory wondered if he ought to risk some more soup. He didn't really want any more soup. It was good soup, but he was full. However, having some soup was about the only thing to do apart from just sitting there, and he was fed up doing that. At least having some soup was doing something. It was an activity.
The assembly hall was very quiet. Vesta was snoozing. Sol Farrow was watching the flames crackling in the nearest firebucket. Sol had already been back for seconds and thirds of soup, and Rory was worried there might not be much soup left if Sol decided to go for fourths. Then there really wouldn't be anything to do to pass the time except sit around and be bored.
The night wind was picking up outside, driving the snow against the windows. Rory could hear it pattering like grains of sand. It was a proper blizzard out there.
Things were warm enough close to the firebuckets, but there was a wickedly cold draft blowing in under the main doors of the assembly, and odd, fluting wind sounds were coming from the chimney vents up in the eaves.
'They're taking a long time,' said Rory.
'Guide's answers are often hard to find,' replied Sol.
He cleared his throat and leaned forward to warm his hands at the fire. 'Particularly when... you know.'
'It's a problem you've never met before?' suggested Rory.
Sol nodded.
'Have you really never seen winter until now?'
'Not until these last three years,' said Sol. 'We knew what winter was, of course. Knew what it had been like on Earth before, because of the records. And it always got a bit colder this season, regular. But we'd never seen white and ice before.'
'Right.'
'Vesta tell you that, did she?'
'Yes,' said Rory.
'They have winters where you come from, then?'