DOCTOR WHO AND THE REVENGE OF THE CYBERMEN

by Terrance Dicks

  Wearily Stevenson shook his head, trying to take it all in. 'Just what are you telling me, Doctor?'

  'As I said before—some hostile force is attacking your crew members. But it certainly isn't any kind of plague.'

  'Then what is it?'

  The Doctor wasn't quite ready to answer that question. He took refuge in a sudden change of subject. 'Who's that singularly unpleasant civilian of yours?'

  Stevenson explained about Kellman, and his role in studying the new asteroid, Voga. He was quite unprepared for the violence of the Doctor's reaction.

  'That's it—Voga!' shouted the Doctor, smacking himself on the forehead with a blow like a pistol shot. 'Of course!'

  'Of course, what?'

  'This chap Kellman—has he actually been down there?'

  'Yes, of course. He spent some time studying the thing. He even set up a transmat station to link the Beacon and Voga.'

  'Voga,' said the Doctor slowly. 'The legendary Voga, the planet made of gold. This makes it certain—they must be involved.'

  'Who must?'

  The Doctor looked at him, his face suddenly grave. 'I'm sorry to have to tell you, Commander, that we're up against the Cybermen.'

  The name rang only the faintest of bells in Stevenson's mind. Some legendary war, long centuries ago.... There had been so many enemies when Man first ventured out among the stars. 'We defeated them, didn't we, hundreds of years ago? I thought they'd died out.'

  The Doctor shook his head. 'Disappeared, certainly. Most of their ships vanished after the attack on Voga, after the end of the Cyberwar. Not the same as dying out, Commander. They're totally ruthless, with a great determination to survive, and to conquer. They won't have forgiven Mankind...'

  In his office, Kellman switched off his listening device and sat brooding for a moment. There was no doubt in his mind that the Doctor knew too much. Two things were clear. The Doctor must be dealt with. And the Master Plan must be brought forward. Kellman went to a hidden locker and produced a communications device of a strange and alien design. He connected it to the Beacon's power line and began tapping out an urgent message.

  On one of the moons of Jupiter an alien spaceship lay hidden. Its lines were harsh and ugly, vicious and functional, like everything made by Cybermen. Inside that ship, giant silver figures sat listening to Kellman's message, considering its many implications. No one spoke. All turned and looked at the central figure, the Cyberleader. He would decide. The others would obey without question. The Cyberleader raised his hand in an abrupt gesture of decision. One of the crew stretched out a giant hand toward the firing levers, and the countdown began. Minutes later the Cybership, scarred and battered, but still efficient and deadly, took off from its hiding place and set a course for Nerva Beacon. The Cybermen were on their way.

  In the crewroom, Harry Sullivan looked up from the unconscious figure of Warner and shook his head, 'It beats me. He's in a deep coma, but his temperature is shooting up and up.'

  Sarah was holding Warner's wrist. 'Harry, I make his pulse a hundred and twenty!'

  Lester wasn't surprised. 'It's always the same, Doc. They just seem to burn up. He's lasted longer than most.'

  Sarah let go of Warner's wrist. 'How long ago did all this start?'

  Lester thought for a moment. 'This must be... yeah, the seventy-ninth day, I reckon.'

  'Didn't they send you any help?'

  'Earth Center decided to isolate us. Better to lose one Beacon crew than spread some unknown plague through the galaxy.'

  Suddenly Warner choked and twisted. Lester sighed. 'That's about it. That's how all the others went.'

  The Doctor and Commander Stevenson hurried into the crewroom. Harry looked up. 'I'm afraid he's beyond help, Doctor.'

  The Doctor leaned over Warner, who was moaning and twisting as the fires of his fever consumed him. Gently steadying the man's head, the Doctor produced a magnifying glass and examined Warner's neck. 'You see, Harry—here? Two tiny punctures...'

  Harry peered through the magnifying glass. 'Like the bite of a serpent.'

  'Exactly like, Harry. This man's been injected with some kind of venom.'

  Warner convulsed in a final paroxysm, went rigid, then lay quite still. The Doctor sighed, and pulled a sheet over his face. As if lost in thought, the Doctor began walking slowly from the room. Harry called after him, 'Doctor, where are you going?'

  'Hunting, Harry. I smell a rat.' And with that the Doctor was gone.

  Stevenson gave a baffled frown. 'This is all beyond me. But I can tell you one thing. There are no rats on this Beacon. Or snakes either, come to that.'

  'Don't worry, Commander,' said Sarah solemnly. 'If the Doctor's scented a rat, he'll find one.'

  Unsure exactly where to start his rat hunt, the Doctor walked slowly along the perimeter corridor. He heard a metallic rattle and instinctively flattened himself against the wall. Further down the corridor a door opened, and Kellman emerged, locking the door behind him. He moved off down the corridor, luckily in the direction that took him away from the Doctor.

  Never one to ignore a nudge from fate, the Doctor waited till Kellman was out of sight, then slipped cautiously up to his door. A few minutes work with his sonic-screwdriver dealt with the lock, and the Doctor was soon inside Kellman's tiny office.

  There wasn't much to look at. A day bed, a locker, a desk-table, a filing cabinet and a chair. That was it. The Doctor leafed aimlessly through a selection of files, abandoned them, and started tapping the walls. A quick search revealed Kellman's hidden locker. The Doctor examined the communication device, shivered at its alien design and put it back, closing the locker.

  He turned his attention to the big clothes locker. There was little to see, just the bare minimum of serviceable clothing. An old pair of shoes was stuffed away in one corner. The Doctor lifted them out, one in each hand and hefted them, weighing and comparing. He tipped up the left shoe and a small string-necked bag fell onto the floor. The Doctor picked it up, carried it over to the table and tipped a little of the bag's contents into his palm. The bag held dust, heavy yellow, metallic dust. The Doctor took a pinch between finger and thumb, rubbing them together. Only one metal in the cosmos had that slippery, almost oily feel.

  'Gold,' he said softly. 'Solid gold...'

  There was a sudden rattle at the door and the handle started moving. Stuffing the bag in his pocket, the Doctor moved too...

  Outside in the corridor, Kellman wondered why the lock on his door felt suddenly strange and stiff. He forced it open, and entered the room. It was as quiet and empty as when he had left it. He went to the desk and took a small metal box from a drawer. He put the box onto the metal desk top and then paused. Something seemed slippery between the two metal surfaces. He lifted the box, wetted a finger, ran it along the desktop. The finger was thinly coated with gold.

  Kellman glanced carefully around the room, keeping quite still. There was only one possible hiding place—under the day bed. Kellman considered for a moment, then suddenly smiled. He had thought of a way to make things hot for his unseen visitor. He crossed to a wall panel and lifted it off to expose the controls for the underfloor heating system. He removed some fuses, wrenched out and cross-connected some wires, then left the room, locking the door behind him.

  Stretched flat on his face under the day bed, the Doctor had had little better than a worm's-eye view of Kellman, seeing no more than his boots as he'd moved about the room. Conscious that his own position was rather lacking in dignity, he was very relieved when Kellman went out. The Doctor waited a moment longer, just in case of a sudden return, gazing abstractedly at the plastic-composition floor a few inches beneath his nose. He noticed something very odd about that floor. It was smoking. Indeed, it was starting to bubble and crack. The Doctor shot out from under the bed like a scalded cat and jumped on top of it. The floor of the room was hissing and bubbling like molten larva. Blasts of heat and choking smoke were wafting up from it. The Doctor wound his scarf over his mout
h and leaned awkwardly over to try to reach the lock of the door. Little spurts of flickering flame began blossoming in the molten plastic, like yellow flowers.

  Sarah Jane Smith sat on her own in the crewroom. Harry and Lester were carrying Warner's body off to the mortuary section. She'd accepted eagerly when Lester had offered her a meal before leaving, but now she was picking unenthusiastically through a plastic box of food concentrates, most of which looked like pink bouillon cubes, and tasted unimaginable. She realized that the crew had been living on pills and concentrates so long they took it for granted, and she thought longingly of steak and French fries.

  She didn't notice when the triangular silvery form of the Cybermat slipped out of its grating, red eyes glowing as it sought its prey.

  This time it managed to glide so close that by the time she saw it there was no chance of escape, no time even to scream as the Cybermat reared up and launched itself at her throat....

  In Kellman's office, the automatic sprinkler system was struggling to put out the fire. The Doctor heaved the metal desk across the bubbling, burning floor to the door, falling forward like a bridge, feet on the bed, one hand supporting him on the desk. In this position, he could—just—reach the lock with the sonic-screwdriver in his other hand. Working one-handed, his weight bearing agonizingly on his supporting wrist, waves of stifling heat and choking black smoke coming up at him from the blazing floor, the Doctor felt like a chop on a barbecue griddle. Under these conditions it was a much tougher job to pick the lock, and the Doctor felt consciousness slipping away as he inhaled the fumes of burning plastic. The door sprang open at last, and the Doctor vaulted over the desk to land in a heap in the metal-floored corridor outside. As he picked himself up, he heard the sound of Sarah's screams. Gasping for breath, the Doctor staggered along the corridor toward the sound.

  After the shock of seeing the Cybermat jump at her, Sarah had got her breath back and was screaming at the top of her voice. The Cybermat seemed clamped to her throat, and she felt twin stabs of agonizing pain in her neck. With a final desperate effort, she wrenched it away, hurling it across the room—to land at the feet of the Doctor as he appeared in the doorway. The Cybermat spun round, orientating itself. Its eyes glowed red as they fixed upon this new victim. Rearing up, it prepared to launch itself at the Doctor....

  4

  A Visit to Voga

  The Doctor sidestepped nimbly as the Cybermat jumped. It crashed into the wall beside his head, dropped to the floor, spun around to get its bearings and reared to attack again.

  Groping in his pockets, the Doctor backed away. Just as the creature was about to spring, the Doctor fished out the bag of gold-dust from Kellman's room, and tipped the lot over the Cybermat. The result was extraordinary. The creature spun around and around in a kind of frenzy, sending off a whirling spray of gold dust. At last it juddered to a halt. The red eyes glowed even more fiercely, then went dark. The Cybermat was still.

  With the immediate danger past, the Doctor became aware that Sarah was staggering toward him. Appalled, he saw the lines of spidery black markings that were already running from her neck up to her temple. She reeled and fell, clutching her throat and making guttural, choking sounds. The Doctor caught her just before she hit the floor. He was lifting her onto a bunk as Harry, Lester and the Commander raced into the room.

  Harry hurried over to Sarah. 'What happened? We heard the screams.'

  Lester took one look at Sarah and said grimly, 'We're too late. She's got the plague.'

  'There is no plague,' said the Doctor. 'Only this.' He kicked the immobilized Cybermat. It was distorted, almost melted by the effect of the gold dust, and looked like a lump of shapeless metal scrap. 'It's programmed to inject some alien poison into the bloodstream of its victims.'

  Stevenson examined it with revulsion. 'Is it still dangerous, Doctor?'

  'Not any more. But there are bound to be others around.' The Doctor crossed over to Harry, who was trying to soothe the writhing, gasping Sarah. Harry was very much aware that on this same bunk, just a short time ago, he had watched Warner die, powerless to help him. He turned his agonized face to the Doctor.

  'There must be something we can do for her.'

  The Doctor stood looking down at Sarah. He seemed lost in contemplation. You could almost hear the whirring as his brain raced through a variety of possible solutions. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. 'There is, Harry. The transmat beam in the control room!'

  Harry gaped at him. His travels with the Doctor had familiarized him with this latest triumph of man's technology, an apparatus that could break down a living human body into a stream of molecules, send it to a predetermined destination by a locked transmitter beam, and reassemble it unharmed at the other end. With transmat you could send a person as easily as a telephone message. But how could that help Sarah?

  'Don't you see?' said the Doctor urgently. 'The transmat disperses human molecules. The alien poison will be separated and rejected, and when Sarah arrives she'll be cured. Come on, Harry!' Ignoring the others, they started to carry Sarah from the room. Automatically, Lester and the Commander followed after them.

  A few minutes later, Harry was supporting Sarah as they both stood inside the small plain cubicle which was the Beacon terminal for the transmat beam. The Doctor was at the nearby control console.

  'Now you know what to do, Harry? The minute you arrive, use the reciprocator switch, and you'll be beamed straight back again. We don't know what's on Voga, and it could be dangerous to spend much time there.'

  Harry nodded. 'Don't worry. We'll be there and back as soon as this thing can take us.' He tightened his grip on Sarah protectively. The Doctor's hands flickered over the controls. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. The Doctor ripped the back panel from the transmat control console and stared into the intricate tangle of electronic equipment. Lester peered over his shoulder.

  'Has it broken down, Doctor?'

  'No. This isn't a breakdown. It's sabotage. Somebody's removed the main power source, the pentalion drive.'

  Commander Stevenson was incredulous. 'Sabotage? Who'd do a thing like that?'

  'Who tore the tape from your radio log?' asked the Doctor savagely. 'Who used Cybermats to murder your crew? Who's desperate to cut all connection between this Beacon and Voga?'

  Commander Stevenson knew exactly who the Doctor meant. 'Kellman?'

  'Kellman!' confirmed the Doctor. 'Your friendly exographer is working with the Cybermen.'

  That was enough for Lester. He rubbed his big hands together. 'Come on, Commander, let's get after him.'

  Lester and Stevenson hurried out of the room, reaching for the blasters in their belts.

  In his fire-ruined office, Kellman took his ear from his listening device and hurriedly started to leave. He took the small metal box from his drawer, and opened it. Inside was a compact, complicated piece of electronic equipment—the missing pentalion drive. Kellman tucked it into a concealed pocket inside his tunic, took a mini-blaster from the drawer and put it in another pocket, then quickly left the room.

  The Doctor made no attempt to join Stevenson and Lester in their hunt for Kellman. He was still peering into the recesses of the transmat controls, talking almost to himself, as he carefully detached a small wire-trailing cylinder from one of the subsidiary circuits. 'This might work at a pinch,' he muttered. 'If I can adapt the monophode to a three-phase output...'

  From the transmat booth Harry Sullivan called, 'Hurry, Doctor, she's dying, just like Warner. It's happening all over again.' The Doctor looked up. Sarah had stopped struggling now, and lay limply against Harry. The spider web network of black lines covered nearly all her face, and her body felt hot to the touch.

  'Just hold on, old chap,' said the Doctor gently. 'I'll be as quick as I can.' He fished a watchmaker's eyeglass from his pocket, and screwed it in his eye. Then he took a jeweler's screwdriver from another pocket. Slowly, and with infinite patience, he began undoing the tiny screws that hel
d the cylinder together.

  By the time the Commander and Lester had blasted the lock from Kellman's door and rushed inside, there was no sign of the missing exographer. 'Skipped,' said Lester angrily.

  The Commander glanced around the still smoke-filled room. 'And in a hurry, by the look of things. All right, let's get after him.' In the corridor outside, Stevenson paused. 'You take that section down there, Lester. I'll check the perimeter corridor.' The two men split up. Blasters at the ready, they moved cautiously on their way.

  The Doctor meanwhile had finished his improvised drive mechanism, and was hoping desperately that it would be strong enough to provide the power surge. He called across to Harry. 'There isn't time to wire this in properly, I'll have to hold it in. Stand by.' One hand holding the cylinder in place, the Doctor used the other to manipulate the controls. There was a hum of power, the transmat booth lit up, and Harry and Sarah dematerialized. The Doctor grinned triumphantly. Almost immediately there was a bang and a flash from the transmat control console, and the Doctor snatched out his hand. He jumped up and down sucking his fingers. His improvised circuit had got Sarah and Harry to the meteorite Voga. But how was he going to get them back again?

  As Commander Stevenson crept carefully along the perimeter corridor, he heard stealthy movement ahead. The sound seemed to be coming toward him. Stevenson flattened himself against the corridor wall and waited. When the footsteps had almost reached him, he stepped out into the corridor, blaster raised. He found himself facing Kellman. But Kellman was holding a blaster too, and it was aimed straight at him.

  Kellman gave his familiar sneer. 'Go ahead and fire, Commander. At this range, neither of us will miss.'

  Feeling rather foolish, Stevenson snapped, 'Drop that blaster, Kellman, you won't get away.'

  Blaster aimed steadily at Stevenson's midriff, Kellman groped along the corridor wall behind him with his other hand, until he found the handle of a door. 'I'm going into this cabin, Commander. Lock me in if you like, or put a guard on the door. Just don't try to come in. You'll soon have a lot more than me to worry about.'