Doctor Who and the Robots of Death

by Terrance Dicks

  13 The Face of Taren Capel

  D.84 laid Poul carefully on a bench. Poul's body was completely rigid, his eyes wide open, staring into nothingness. 'Poul is damaged,' said the robot sadly. 'I do not understand what has happened to him, but this may he because I am not human.'

  'Yes, that's very likely,' agreed the Doctor. He bent to examine Poul.

  'How did you know Poul wasn't what he pretended to be?' asked Toos.

  'His body language was all wrong.'

  'Body language?'

  'A person's feelings, his whole personality, is expressed in the way he moves.'

  Leela nodded. 'You remember, Doctor? I said he was a hunter.'

  'So you did. You know what's wrong with him, Uvanov?'

  'Robophobia?'

  'That's right. Also known as Grimwold's Syndrome.'

  'I've seen it once before,' said Uvanov slowly. 'Couple of trips ago. A young kid panicked, ran right outside the miner. I tried to save him, but I couldn't. Nearly got killed myself. I'll never, ever, forget the look on his face—just like his.' Uvanov glanced down at Poul's face, set into a rigid mask of fear, the eyes wide and staring.

  'That must have been Zilda's brother,' said Toos quietly.

  'The boy's father was an important man, you see. One of the Founding Families. Didn't want people to think his son had been a coward, so he tried to hush the whole thing up.' Uvanov laughed bitterly. 'He managed to cover up all right... by making people think the whole thing was my fault.'

  'Including Zilda?' suggested Toos.

  'I suppose so. The boy's father even managed to get his version on my official file. That's why Zilda accused me of murder ...' Uvanov rubbed a hand across his eyes. 'The stupid thing is, robophobia's got nothing to do with cowardice, it's a mental condition. Right, Doctor?'

  'Yes, of course it is. Though mind you, it can be produced by physical causes—like a robot getting its hands round your throat. I'm beginning to feel a touch of it myself! Are there any weapons on this miner?'

  Toos shook her head. 'They've never been necessary.'

  'Well, they are now!'

  Suddenly a robot voice came from the speaker. 'This is

  SV.7. We know that you are all barricaded on the Command Deck. You have five minutes to surrender. If you do not come out, you will all be destroyed.'

  'And if we give ourselves up, we'll be destroyed anyway,' shouted Uvanov. 'Not much of a choice, is it, SV.7?'

  'Humans feel pain,' replied the calm voice. 'Our Controller has ordered that if you do not surrender you are to die slowly. You have, I repeat, five minutes!'

  'Five minutes.' muttered the Doctor. 'And those are anti-blast doors, so they'll hold for about another ten .. He swung round on Toos. 'Anti-blast! Don't you carry blasting charges aboard this miner?'

  Toos nodded. Occasionally blast-charges were planted in the desert, causing a controlled explosion which revealed the minerals deep beneath the sands.

  'We've got some Z.9 electron packs, I think there are a couple left.'

  'In here?'

  'They're in that locker.'

  The Doctor hurried over to the locker, rooted inside and took out a squat metal oval, rather like a metal discus. 'They might just do ... Uvanov, if you magnetise this with the power from the console and trigger the timer, you'll have an anti-robot bomb!'

  'Providing we can get close enough to use it!'

  'Well, that's your problem. I can't be everywhere at once! Toos, open the door for me, will you?' 'Why? Where are you going?'

  'To the robot mortuary. Lock the door after me, Toos, and don't open it for anyone else, is that clear?'

  'Clear, Doctor.' Toos went to the control console, and the door slid open.

  'Doctor, wait for me,' called Leela.

  The Doctor hesitated. The way things were, staying on the Control Deck could be just as dangerous as coming with him. 'All right, Leela, come on. You too, D.84.'

  Leela and the robot hurried out, and the Doctor paused in the doorway. 'If we don't come back, then it'll be up to you. Try to find some way to warn the outside world.' Toos closed and locked the door behind them.

  Uvanov went over to the blast-packs. 'Come on, Toos, let's get to work.' He took the other pack from the locker.

  The Doctor and his party hadn't gone very far before they heard movement coming towards them. 'Mechanical men,' whispered Leela. 'Lots of them!'

  They ducked down behind a storage hopper and waited. Silver-booted feet marched by, a whole line of them, and passed on into the darkness, heading for the Control Deck.

  The Doctor stood up. 'All robots?'

  Leela nodded. 'That's what I saw.'

  'Strange. I would have expected Taren Capel to be in at the kill. Come on you two, we've got to hurry.'

  Using power from the control console, Uvanov was magnetising the base-plate of the second blast-pack, held by Toos.

  There was a thumping sound, and a muffled shout.

  'Help! Help, let me in!'

  Uvanov went to the doors. 'Who is it?'

  'Dask'.' came the desperate voice. 'Quick, let me in. They're after me.'

  Uvanov hesitated, looking at Toos.

  'Help me,' screamed the voice. 'Please, help me. They're coming! Let me in, please!'

  Uvanov hurried to the door controls. Toos pulled him away. 'The Doctor said open to no one. No one else at all.'

  'I can't leave him out there. Those robots are killers. You know what they'll do to him.'

  Help me!' screamed the muffled voice. 'They're coming!'

  Again Uvanov reached for the controls, but Toos moved in front of him. 'The robots could be using him to get us to open the door. They may be waiting outside ..

  'Let me in!' screamed the voice. Uvanov hesitated—and there came a terrible, gurgling scream ... Toos shuddered, and turned away.

  Dask let the scream die in his throat, and studied the still-closed doors. He was wearing robot dress now, silver boots, trousers, quilted tunic, face painted silver in a ghastly parody of a robot mask. His face was blank, mask-like, scarcely a human face at all, very much like the robots crowding round him. Taren Capel had joined his brothers at last.

  He pointed. 'All right, my brothers, force the doors!'

  The Doctor led the others to the mortuary section with its revolving racks of deactivated robots. 'Right, D.84, I've got a job for you. You know the storeroom where Chub kept his equipment?'

  'Yes.'

  'You'll find some gas-cylinders in there. Fetch me one please, as quick as you can.'

  'That will be a pleasure,' said D.84 politely, and moved away.

  The Doctor opened a door and spun the rack to reveal the deactivated body of robot V.2. He fished out his sonic screwdriver and began detaching the robot's head.

  Leela meanwhile was studying the robot's hands. 'Look, Doctor.' The metal hand was thickly smeared with dried and crusted blood.

  The Doctor detached V.2's head and lifted it clear of the body. 'Borg's blood, at a guess. He was the only one strong enough to put up a real fight. Poul saw that blood and it triggered off his collapse.'

  Leela nodded, remembering Poul's rigid body and wide, staring eyes. 'Doctor, what is this robophobia?'

  By now the Doctor was sitting cross-legged on the floor. He had taken off the back of V.2's head and detached part of the robot brain. 'Robophobia? An unreasoning fear of robots. You see, nearly all living creatures use non-verbal signals—body movement, eye-contact, facial expression...'

  Leela came to sit beside him. 'The body language you were talking about?'

  'Exactly. These robots are humanoid, presumably so as to make humans feel more comfortable with them. But at the same time, they give off no signals. It's rather like being surrounded by walking, talking dead men.'

  'That's what Poul said...'

  By now the Doctor had taken both brain and communicator to bits, and seemed to be combining them into one entirely new piece of equipment. 'The lack of signals seems to undermine a
certain type of personality. It produces identity crisis, paranoia, personality disintegration—and finally robophobia. At least, that's Grimwold's theory.' He began fitting the modified communicator back into its case, and checking it over.

  'What are you doing, Doctor?'

  'Patching this communicator into Dask's private command circuit to make a Deactivator.'

  'Dask?'

  'Otherwise known as Taren Capel. You see, I've discovered the way he's modified the brains of his killer robots. If this thing works it'll produce a kind of robot brainstorm.' The Doctor looked up crossly. 'Leela, do you have to talk so much?'

  Something heavy was being slammed against the Command Deck doors, producing a series of tremendous crashes. Presumably the robots were using themselves as battering-rams.

  Toos looked apprehensively at the shuddering doors. 'I hope the Doctor succeeds in whatever he's doing. I don't see what we can do if he doesn't ..

  'He doesn't really expect us to do anything,' said Uvanov calmly. 'We're decoys, to gain him a little time.' The crashing stopped. Somehow the silence was even more sinister. 'I wonder what they're up to?'

  The Doctor fitted the Deactivator hack into its case and gave it a final check. 'There, that should do it.'

  'Do what?'

  'Reverse the polarity in the robot brain-cells and cause a massive negative feedback, which will explode the brain of any robot close by.'

  Since the Doctor's explanation, as usual, left her none the wiser, Leela changed the subject. 'The mechanical men that Dask turned off—they were only the friendly ones?'

  'That's right. No doubt he plans to modify and re-activate them later. Today the Sandminer, tomorrow the world. Right now he must be quite a happy little maniac.'

  D.84 returned, carrying a heavy gas-cylinder. 'Is this what you wanted, Doctor?'

  The Doctor took the cylinder. 'I want you to stay here, D.84.'

  'I cannot do that. I must come and help you.'

  The Doctor held up the Deactivator. 'I've rigged up a kind of Final Deactivator here, D.84. If I have to use it while you're around it will destroy your brain too.'

  'I am personally unimportant.'

  'I think you're very important,' said the Doctor gently.

  'My duty is to serve the Company.'

  'Come with me if you must, then, but be very careful!'

  'I will,' promised D.84. 'Where are we going, Doctor?'

  'To the workshop of Taren Capel.'

  14 Brainstorm

  The robots seemed to have abandoned their attempt to smash down the doors, but Toos and Uvanov knew they hadn't given up. Robots never give up.

  The silence was beginning to get on their nerves. Every now and again they seemed to hear a mysterious creaking and scraping, but it was difficult to tell where it was coming from. 'Any idea what they're up to?' whispered Uvanov.

  Toos shook her head.

  Poul rose stiffly to his feet and stalked zombie-like across the control, room. He walked until he was standing flat against the wall, his face pressed to a ventilator grille. 'No, please,' he babbled. 'They brought me here, I didn't want to come, I'm sorry...'

  The face of a robot studied him impassively from the other side of the grille. Robot fingers curled round the edge of the metal frame and began to pull...

  Outside the Command Deck doors, SV.7 turned to Dask. 'Controller Capel, V.5 has obtained entry to the service tunnel behind the ventilator grille. He reports only three humans on the Command Deck. They are Commander Uvanov, Poul and Toos.'

  'What of the Doctor and the girl Leela?' demanded Dask harshly. 'Where are they?'

  'Their position is unknown.'

  'They must be found and killed. The Doctor is a threat to the plan, my brothers. SV.7, order V.5 to enter the Command Deck and destroy the three humans. The rest of you come with me. We shall divide and search for the Doctor.'

  Uvanov went to drag the babbling Poul away from the ventilator grille—and found himself staring into the face of the robot on the other side.

  With a seemingly effortless heave, V.5 wrenched away the side of the grille and began peeling it back.

  'Look out!' screamed Toos. 'It's getting in!'

  V.5 forced the upper part of its body through the grille. 'You have to die,' it said. The calm robot tones made the threat all the more terrifying. 'All of you must die. That is the order.'

  Uvanov ran back across the control room, grabbed one of the magnetised blaster-packs, and ran back to the grille. Triggering the pack he slammed it against the robot's chest, dragging Poul and Toos clear. 'Get down, both of you!'

  'You have to die—all of you. That is the order.' There was the sharp crack of an explosion. V.5 crashed into the room through the broken grille, smoke pouring from his shattered chest unit. 'You have to die... All of you must die. That is the order-r-r...' The voice slurred and deepened, like a record played too slow, finally dragging into silence.

  Uvanov's eyes were shining with excitement. 'You know what I think, Toos? It's time we went over to the attack.'

  'We may not be so lucky next time.'

  Uvanov snatched up the other blast-pack. 'We'll have to risk that. It's time the Doctor had some help.'

  The squad of robots marched along the corridor, Dask and SV.7 in the lead. Suddenly SV.7 stopped. 'V.5 is no longer registering, Controller. There is no operational signal. V.5.has been deactivated.'

  'How could mere humans destroy a robot?' hissed Dask. 'They are unarmed, weak creatures of flesh and blood...'

  'What are your orders, Controller?'

  'Destroy them,' screamed Dask. 'SV.7, your orders are to kill all humans. Confirm!'

  'I must kill all humans, Controller.'

  'You, V.6, you will come with me. I will release more of our brothers from bondage. We will be irresistible!'

  V.6 followed Dask down the corridor.

  SV.7 turned back towards the Control Deck.

  The Doctor paused in the doorway of Taren Capel's workshop. 'All right, D.84, come in.' He handed the robot the Final Deactivator. 'Hold this will you? Don't press the button, though, unless you want to commit suicide.'

  The Doctor produced his sonic screwdriver, and began removing one of the metal panels from the wall.

  'What is your intention, Doctor?' asked D.84.

  'I'm just trying to make life difficult for our crazy friend. Any minute now he'll be coming here to convert more robots for the cause. And when he does ..

  The Doctor removed the panel to reveal a narrow space between double walls. 'Do you think you can get in there, Leela?'

  'Why?' asked Leela suspiciously.

  'Just try it for size,' said the Doctor persuasively. Leela ducked down and wriggled into the gap. It was a tight squeeze, but she could just about fit in.

  Comfy?' asked the Doctor.

  'No!'

  'Never mind,' said the Doctor cheerfully. He picked up the gas cylinder and passed it in to her. 'This is helium, Leela. Chub used it to fill his weather balloons.' He began replacing the wall panel.

  'Why are you shutting me in?'

  'Because that's where I want you—hidden. When Dask conies in here, open the valve on that gas cylinder.' 'What will that do?'

  'Change his voice. When a helium-air mixture is breathed, it changes the resonance of the larynx. Didn't they teach you anything in that jungle?' The Doctor began screwing the panel back into place.

  'You mean the robots won't recognise Dask's voice? He'll lose control over them?'

  'That's the idea. Come on, D.84.'

  A muffled voice came from behind the panel. 'Where are you going, Doctor?'

  'Robot hunting!'

  D.84 opened the door. Dask was standing in the doorway, the Laserson probe in his hand. V.6 behind him. 'Look out!' shouted the Doctor.

  Dask's strange appearance, half-robot, half-human, con-fused D.84 for a moment—and that moment was enough. Dask lunged at the robot's head with his probe, and a massive charge seared through the robot's br
ain. D.84 keeled over and crashed to the ground. The Doctor's Final Deactivator fell unnoticed from its hand. The Doctor leaped forward in a vain attempt to help, but V.6's hands closed round his throat, rapidly choking him into unconsciousness. The Doctor's body slumped.

  'No,' shouted' Dask. 'Do not kill him, not yet. Bring him to the bench.'

  V.6 picked up the Doctor and carried him over to the operating table, standing over him to hold him down. Dask watched, fondling the probe in his hands.

  Behind the wall-panel, Leela crouched hidden. It would be suicide to emerge—the robot could kill her with ease while she was still struggling through the gap. She remembered the Doctor's last orders, and twisted the nozzle on the gas cylinder. There was a faint hiss. Gas began seeping into the room...

  SV.7 marched steadily down the corridor, impassive metal face turning from side to side, alert for any sign of human life. As he passed out of sight a wall-hanging stirred. Toos and Uvanov emerged from behind it. 'Luckily they've got no eye for art,' whispered Toos.

  Uvanov nodded. 'And not much imagination either. Come on!'

  'Where are we going?'

  'We're going to follow it, of course.' Uvanov hefted the magnetised blast-pack in his hand. 'We may get a chance to use this!'

  Painfully sucking in air through a bruised windpipe, the Doctor recovered to see a grotesque, distorted face hovering above him. Was it man or robot? Muzzily, he recognised Dask, in his robot face-paint. 'Hullo, Dask,' he whispered. 'Or should I say Taren Capel?'

  'I am glad you have recovered, Doctor.'

  'Oh really? Why?'

  'You came very close to ruining my plan. It is fitting that 1 should make you suffer for that.'

  Behind the wall-panel, Leela crouched, waiting. If Dask tried to kill the Doctor she would burst out of the panel somehow and make a final attack. Better to go down fighting... Beside her the gas cylinder hissed steadily away.