‘I’ll tell him,’ the Doctor warned.
The two massive reptiles in front of him folded their arms. There was muttering from the audience. Several people slipped out the back of the room, but most were torn between fear and the chance of reporting on a huge news story.
‘You’re no more a GA representative than I am,’ Orlo said, his voice picked up and amplified by the microphone he wore. ‘I have friends at Galactic Central, and they tell me no observers were dispatched to these talks. It was felt that the pressure of observation might endanger the chances of agreement.’
‘Doctor?’ Blench said.
‘Tell him he’s wrong,’ Defron insisted. ‘The point about covert observers is that no one knows about them. I only know because the GA Council themselves told me they have an agent here. Two agents, in fact. The Doctor and Miss Martha.’
‘Ah,’ the Doctor said. ‘Well, that’s not strictly true, is it? I mean, they didn’t actually give you our names, did they?’
‘Well no,’ Defron admitted. ‘But who else could it be?’
‘No one,’ Orlo said. He sounded bored. ‘I told you, no agents or observers were despatched. So I suggest you tell your men to drop their weapons, Colonel Blench. I suggest you surrender.’
The Doctor held up his hand. ‘You really don’t get it, do you?’ No agents were despatched because the GA agents were already here.’
Orlo stepped to the front of the dais and leaned towards the Doctor, towering over him. ‘You are bluffing.’
‘Want to bet on it? And I’ll tell you another thing: your army there isn’t as mighty and all-powerful as you think. Because the Mortal Mirror doesn’t work in the way you believe it does. Thorodin – or whoever it was you had imitating him – he tried to tell you. But I don’t think he ever got round to it.’
‘Where is Sastrak?’
‘Was that his name?’
‘He is dead?’ Orlo demanded.
‘Shattered. And I mean that. Your army, even your reflection standing beside you there – they’re all made of glass.’
‘You lie!’ General Orlo swung round to look at his troops. Then back to the Doctor. ‘I don’t believe you.’
The Doctor shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. But when Blench gets his release codes, you’ll soon find out. Last chance – surrender.’
‘Never!’ Orlo snarled. ‘There are no codes. You think I haven’t monitored and checked every transmission in and out of Extremis? No codes have been sent.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Positive.’
‘Maybe he’s right, Doctor,’ Blench said quietly.
‘No, no, no,’ the Doctor said. ‘No, I won’t have that. I mean, there are other ways the codes could have been sent here. Ways that weren’t monitored. Aren’t there?’
‘You clutch at straws, Doctor,’ Orlo said. ‘It is time to end this.’ He raised his hand again.
‘Surely the codes could have been sent by post, or courier, or carrier pigeon, or – well, somehow.’
The Doctor turned to the audience, most of whom were now ducking down behind the chairs and any other cover they could find.
‘Could have been narrow-beamed directly to the agents,’ Bill called from the back of the room.
‘There you are then,’ the Doctor said happily.
‘Encrypted for the receiver only,’ Bott agreed. ‘That wouldn’t go through main comms and no one else would detect it.’
‘It would work a treat,’ Bill told everyone. ‘Wouldn’t it, Bott?’
‘Oh, it certainly would, Bill.’
General Orlo was shaking his massive scaly head. His reflected self mirrored the action. ‘A narrow-beam direct communication has to go to a receiver. It can’t be used to communicate with an agent. It’s a network protocol for sending instructions and data to equipment and technology.’
‘You mean, like a robot?’ the Doctor asked.
Orlo blinked. A trail of viscous saliva dripped from his open jaw.
‘I really don’t think there’s any option left,’ the Doctor said sadly. ‘Colonel Blench, the Galactic Alliance authorises you for use of weapons.’
‘No!’ Orlo roared.
‘Then surrender!’ the Doctor shouted at him.
In reply, Orlo ripped the microphone from his breastplate and dashed it to the floor.
And from the back of the hall, Bill said: ‘The GA Release Code is nine seven four oblique-stroke two.’
‘Colonel Blench, you have use of weapons,’ Bott added. ‘Doesn’t he, Bill?’
‘He certainly does, Bott,’ Bill said. ‘Take cover.’
From all round the hall there came the sound of the GA soldiers entering the release code into their weapons. The double-click of power-rounds loading into the guns as they were made ready to fire.
‘You are outnumbered and outgunned,’ Colonel Blench told General Orlo.
Orlo’s lips curled back from his stained, yellowing teeth. ‘You think so.’ He stepped aside, his alter ego moving across the dais in the opposite direction. In the mirror behind, another group of Zerugian soldiers marched into the reflection of the Great Hall. Then another. And another. Marching towards the mirror, and stepping out of it into the real world.
There was chaos. Martha dived behind the sound desk where Bill and Bott were standing. Soldiers raced for cover. The press and dignitaries in the audience were under their chairs, hiding behind the huge speakers, or crawling, staggering, running for the doors. The Zerugians already in the hall advanced, while more and more emerged from the rippling surface of the Mortal Mirror.
Colonel Blench was shouting to his troops to wait, and to Orlo and the Zerugians to surrender.
But after a moment, his voice was lost in the deafening roar of the guns.
The Doctor dived under the side table with the treaty book on it.
‘You all right?’ he asked as he pulled his feet out of sight after him. It was a bit cramped, but it would have to do. And if he was going to end this madness he needed to talk to the person already hiding under the table and now sitting with her legs pulled up under her chin beside him.
‘I hoped he’d surrender, once he saw that Colonel Blench had overwhelmingly more soldiers. But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t. Which is annoying.’ The Doctor lifted the edge of the velvet table cloth to peer out.
The GA soldiers were retreating towards the main doors, forced back by the sheer numbers of Zerugians from the mirror.
‘Where have they all come from?’ the Doctor wondered out loud. ‘He can’t have hidden that many in there, unless…’ He shook his head as he realised. ‘Multiplied in the mirror. Reflections of reflections of reflections.’
A bullet hammered into a Zerugian close to the table. It caught the creature in the leg, shattering it. The Zerugian collapsed, one arm breaking as it hit the stone floor. The side of its head sheared off. But still it tried to drag itself on, firing its own weapon as it went.
‘Brittle, but resilient,’ the Doctor murmured. ‘Determined. Obsessed, even. We need more than bullets. Bullets never solved anything. We need…’ He turned towards the girl. ‘… You.’
Her eyes were wide. ‘What can I do?’
The Doctor held up his sonic screwdriver. ‘Get this to Martha. Tell her it’s all set and ready to rock and roll. Bill and Bott will know how to use it.’
‘And what’s it do?’
Before the Doctor could answer, the cloth was pulled aside and a snarling green face appeared. A gun swung up to cover the Doctor and Janna. The snarl became a reptilian smile as a claw tightened on the trigger.
Janna shrieked as the grotesque, green face pulled back, a fine maze of cracks webbing across its scaled cheek.
The Doctor thrust the sonic screwdriver right at the Zerugian and switched it on. The Zerugian’s face was illuminated by the bright blue light for a moment. A high-pitched squeal erupted from the sonic screwdriver. The mass of cracks became
splits, widening and growing. Then the whole creature exploded in a shattering blast of glass fragments.
With his hands over his face, the Doctor dived across Janna to protect her from the flying shards.
‘That’s what it does,’ he said. ‘But it’s too focused to be much use except right up close like that.’ He held out the sonic for her to take. ‘Get it to Martha. I’ll distract them all, make sure you’re safe.’
Janna looked at the Doctor. Her eyes were still wide with fear, and he smiled and nodded to reassure her. After a moment, she nodded back and crawled out from under the table.
The Doctor jumped to his feet on the other side of the table. His hands were thrust deep in his pockets and his face set in a stern, uncompromising expression. Immediately a Zerugian turned towards him. The Doctor shoved the creature aside. Its feet skidded on broken glass and it crashed to the floor. The Doctor stepped over the shattered body.
‘Orlo!’ he shouted. ‘You have to end this. You stop it, or I will. Your choice.’
There were two General Orlos, but he didn’t care which one he spoke to. They would be of the same mind.
‘And how can you stop me now?’ a voice said from behind the Doctor.
He switched on a grin and spun round. The room was falling quiet. GA soldiers and Zerugian warriors holding their positions as they watched the Doctor and Orlo standing in the middle of the carnage – broken glass, shattered warriors, dead and dying soldiers…
The Doctor took a moment to look around before he answered. The other Orlo – the reflection, the Doctor saw from the side he wore his eyepatch – was halfway down the hall, leading his warriors against Colonel Blench’s forces. Blench and his men had taken what cover they could. There was a barricade hastily built from piled-up chairs and behind that was the sound desk. The Doctor could see Martha with Bill and Bott, and he could see Janna crawling between the legs of the jungle-pile of chairs as she worked her way to the back of the hall.
‘Oh, I’ll stop you,’ the Doctor said. ‘You and your army of glass. Delicate stuff, glass.’
‘I’m not made of glass,’ Orlo said. ‘And if I were, is that really any more fragile than human life? Than flesh and blood and bone and sinew?’
‘That depends, doesn’t it? Glass people may not bleed, but they can certainly break.’ He drew circles in the glittering debris with the toe of his shoe. ‘Ashes to ashes or sand to sand. Same difference in the end. And make no mistake, this is the end. Stop now. Surrender while you can.’
Orlo leaned forward, so close the Doctor could feel the cold breath on his face. ‘Never.’
The Doctor wiped flecks of saliva from his face. ‘I was afraid you’d say that. I’m sorry.’ He raised his voice and called to the back of the Great Hall: ‘Now, Martha!’
Janna ran past the soldiers at the makeshift barricade, holding out the sonic screwdriver.
‘What’s he want me to do with this?’ Martha asked, taking it from the girl.
‘It breaks glass. But it’s too focused,’ Janna said.
‘Er – so?!’
Janna shook her head. ‘He said you’d know what to do. You and Bill and Bott.’
Hearing his name, Bill turned from adjusting controls on the sound desk. ‘That the sonic?’ he asked.
‘Looks like it could be a sonic to me,’ Bott said.
‘Good. Been waiting for that,’ Bill said.
Martha handed the sonic screwdriver to Bill. His spindly metal fingers snapped closed on it and he passed it across to Bott.
‘Reckon this’ll do the trick, Bott?’
‘I reckon it will, Bill.’
‘In your own time,’ the Doctor’s voice called from the other side of the barricade.
‘You are wasting my time and your life,’ Orlo’s snarling tones replied.
Bott took the sonic screwdriver and set about attaching it to a mass of wires and components erupting from the centre of the sound desk.
‘Just link up the audio feed,’ Bott said.
‘And then we can start,’ Bill added.
‘Start what?’ Martha asked.
Bill looked at Bott.
Bott looked at Bill.
‘This!’ they both said together.
‘Don’t lecture me about time,’ the Doctor was saying. His words faded under the building hum of noise that emerged from the speakers along the side of the hall.
‘Your time is over!’ Even Orlo’s vicious snarls were lost as the sound continued to build. It rose in volume and in pitch. Martha and Janna had their hands clamped over their ears.
There was a violent crash as part of the barricade collapsed. Martha thought at first it had been shaken apart by the sound waves, but a Zerugian staggered through the gap, hurling chairs aside as he came.
But he was shaking, his features a shimmering blur. He raised his hands to his head, staggering back and forth. He lurched in front of one of the massive speakers. Martha could see the grille across the front of the speaker rippling. And still the sound grew and rose.
Until the Zerugian exploded in a shower of glittering fragments of glass.
More Zerugians were following the first. But they too were staggering and vibrating. One fell forward as its leg shattered. Another crashed into the speaker and was blown back in a blizzard of fragments.
But still more were coming. The GA soldiers were painfully deafened. They weren’t exploding like the glass Zerugians, but they were unable to fight back. Another Zerugian shattered to pieces in front of the barricade. Then another.
Only one Zerugian staggered on. The glass reflection of General Orlo, face cracked – a deep line running along his scar, but splitting the eyepatch as well. One of his arms ended in a jagged stump at the elbow. His armour – his body – was chipped and scratched and cracked.
But he lumbered towards the sound desk.
Martha staggered out to stop him, shoulder barging into the Zerugian, unable to take her hands from her ears. She could barely see now, her eyes were watering so much. But Orlo’s reflection thrust her aside. He lunged over the sound desk.
‘Stop him!’ Martha yelled. ‘He’s going for the sonic!’ But her cry was lost in the cacophony.
A glass claw clamped down on the mass of cables and the sonic screwdriver. Cracks rippled up the fingers and forearm. The whole of Orlo’s body crazed with a spider’s web of fractures.
Bott grabbed for Orlo’s hand, trying to pull it away.
He was too late. Orlo wrenched the sonic clear, and hurled it away. The sound cut out. There was a snapping sound as the sonic hammered into the wall by the door. It fell to the floor in pieces.
For a moment there was complete and utter silence. More than half of Orlo’s army lay in shattered ruins across the floor of the Great Hall. Many, though, were still standing, their bodies glazed and cracked. But intact.
Then the glass Orlo turned and reached for Janna, his broken claws raking down towards her face. Janna screamed from point-blank range.
The claws shattered. The hand exploded. Orlo’s legs folded under him, collapsing under his own weight.
‘That’s it!’ Martha gasped. ‘Keep screaming – Janna keep screaming. And you two,’ she yelled at Bill and Bott, ‘put it through the speakers.’
With a final snarl of anger and pain, the glass Orlo lashed out. The remains of his shattered arm swept Janna off her feet. She fell sideways, head cracking into the side of the sound desk, as Orlo himself fell back in fragments to the floor.
Martha was at Janna’s side in a moment. There was a cut on the girl’s head, and her eyelids flickered.
‘No, no, no,’ Martha told her, cradling the girl in her arms. But Janna’s head sagged and she was unconscious. Martha laid her down carefully on the floor. She would be all right, and there would be time to take care of her later – she hoped. But first it was up to her to stop the rest of the Zerugians.
‘Microphone?’ Bill offered.
Martha took it. And screamed.
She
shouted and yelled and shrieked till she was hoarse.
But the Zerugians were forcing their way through the barricade, unaffected. The GA soldiers were falling back, helpless as they ran out of ammunition.
‘It’s the wrong pitch,’ Bott said. He was working frantically at the controls. ‘I can only amplify and boost the wave form.’
‘Can’t change the pitch,’ Bill agreed. ‘We need Janna. We need her screams.’
But the girl lay unconscious on the floor beside them as General Orlo’s Zerugian army advanced through the Great Hall of Castle Extremis.
When Janna’s scream cut out, the Doctor knew he had problems. He’d made good use of the distraction as the sonic sound wave cut down so many of Orlo’s soldiers. He had run to the Mortal Mirror and adjusted the controls so that it was just a mirror again. Luckily whoever had set it up – Thorodin probably – had not had time or been bothered to reset the deadlock seals. No more reflected Zerugians would be coming through.
But, even deprived of reinforcements, Orlo still had enough troops who had survived the carnage wrought by the sonic screwdriver to take Castle Extremis. Then he could let in reinforcements from Zerugma – real warriors who wouldn’t shatter and break under a sonic assault.
General Orlo knew that. His lips were curling from his jagged teeth in a satisfied smile as he advanced on the Doctor.
‘We could talk about this,’ the Doctor said. ‘I mean, if you want. That is, I’m up for it. What about you?’
Orlo’s arm struck out and claws closed on the Doctor’s neck.
‘Or not,’ the Doctor managed to gasp. ‘I’m easy about it, actually. Tell you what – you decide.’
Then he was tumbling through the air and rolling across the dais and landing heavily on the stone floor. Strong hands – human hands – helped the Doctor to his feet and he dusted himself down.
‘Thank you, Mr Stellman. But don’t feel you have to hang on here for me.’
‘I’m not,’ Stellman said.
The Doctor could see Lady Casaubon sitting pale and weak on a chair at the side of the dais, out of the way of the ongoing battle. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Yes, duty and loyalty and friendship often decide our choices.’
Martha in the Mirror Page 15