Doctor Who_ The Krillitane Storm Part 15

'A Time Lord? How intriguing. It is rare indeed to encounter one of your kind, since they pa.s.sed into myth.'

'Big old universe, busy diary. You should think yourself lucky I found a window in my schedule.'

The momentary distraction caused by the Doctor's entrance was all Toch'Lu needed, and she exchanged a surrept.i.tious signal with Broken Wing before the Esteemed Father's eyes turned back towards her.

'I have no enmity with you, Time Lord. I advise you to return to whichever dusty library you hail from, before I have reason to do so.'

The Esteemed Father turned away from the newcomer, dismissing him from his mind.

All levity had gone from the Doctor's voice when he spoke again.

The internal politics of the Krillitanes have no place on Earth. I warn you now, gather your troops and take your argument back to your homeworld.'

'Or what? You think I should fear you, Time Lord?'

Try me.'

Suddenly, Broken Wing launched himself at the guard nearest to him, snapping its long neck and hurling its lifeless body into the others before they had a chance to react. At the same moment, Toch'Lu flew at the Esteemed Father, digging her claws deep into his flesh and lifting him off his feet, up towards the high ceiling and through one of the smashed windows.

'So much for a diplomatic solution,' the Doctor murmured. He was about to leave when he remembered Henk was still on the stage.

But when he looked over, 209.

Henk had already gone, having made good use of the chaos to escape unnoticed.

The Doctor stepped backwards, just in time, as Broken Wing slammed into the ground where he'd been standing, locked in a vicious struggle with another of the guards.

Then a deafening round of blaster fire shot through the air. The Doctor ducked on impulse, searching desperately for the source of the gunfire. He caught sight of Henk firing another parting shot as he ran out of the door, but the shot went wide of the mark. Too wide, and the Doctor realised that neither he nor the Krillitanes had been Henk's intended target at all. So who or what had been?

A resounding clunk, followed by a skittering, cracking sound emanated from the opposite end of the room, something rupturing.

The Doctor looked towards the reflective slab which he'd taken to be some kind of oversized display screen.

Creeping across its surface, cracks joined and spread rapidly, black liquid crystal seeping through them, dripping downwards.

The whole thing had taken on the appearance of melting candle wax.

Then something smashed through, what looked like a tail, creating an explosion of black shards.

'Right,' was all the Doctor could manage, gawping in disbelief at what he was seeing, before gathering his wits and running for his remaining lives.

Henk's creature, the Krillitane Storm, stalked out 210 210 of the wreckage of its enclosure, towering above his genetic cousins. It let out a bloodcurdling scream, lifting its head high on its long, muscular neck, surveying its new surroundings. Then it struck, plucking one of the cowering Krillitane guards from the floor and crus.h.i.+ng the unfortunate individual in its powerful jaws.

Safely outside, the Doctor slammed the doors shut and locked them.

They wouldn't stop that thing for long. Ruffling his fingers through his hair, he looked around for Emily, but there was no sign of her. 'Why do they never stay where I tell them?' the Doctor sighed. She must have seen Henk leave and gone after him on her own, and if Henk was looking for a quick escape, he'd be heading for the boathouse. Hoping Emily wasn't going to try anything stupid, he sprinted off along the cloisters.

Broken Wing and the guard he'd been fighting fell away from each other and stared up at the abomination before them, not sure whether to feel kins.h.i.+p or revulsion.

At the same moment they both realised that, if they wanted to live, then this fight was over. The guard crawled to his feet and fled, scrambling up the Chapter House wall and out through a broken window. Broken Wing was not far behind, and he pulled himself onto the building's conical roof, searching the sky for any sign of where Toch'Lu had dragged their foe.

A shriek, followed by the clatter of falling masonry, caused him to look towards the tower. There, at the top, he could see them, dangerously close to the edge, as the 211.

Esteemed Father landed a crippling blow which almost sent Toch'Lu tumbling over the side.

Broken Wing leapt from the roof to the exterior wall of the Cathedral, and began to climb upwards, lamenting his inability to fly.

The Brood Mother was strong, without doubt, but she had been weakened by her captivity. He had to get up there, as fast as possible, otherwise she would not survive.

Henk half-dragged, half-pushed Emily through the refectory doors and out into the grounds, the blunt muzzle of his blaster pressed hard against her ribs. He'd grabbed the girl outside the Chapter House, recognising the need for a back-up plan, some protection in case releasing his pet monster hadn't finished the Doctor and the Krillitanes off as hoped. The amount of development money he'd poured into that beast, he was determined to get some value out of it.

'What is it with men and guns?' Emily struggled against his grip, determined to make this as difficult for him as possible. 'You're pathetic. Half the man my dad was.'

'Well he's dead, isn't he?'

'So are you,' she spat back.

'Emily!'

They stopped short, hearing the Doctor's voice shout out from somewhere inside the building. Emily was about to call back in response, but felt Henk's blaster digging into her.

212.

'Don't even think about it,' he growled, pulling her through the snow towards the boathouse.

'You don't seriously think you're going to get out of here in one piece, do you?' Emily smirked, no longer afraid of the man. He was nothing more than a coward and a bully. 'If the Doctor doesn't get you, the Krillitanes will.'

'Just shut your mouth and walk.' Henk kicked open the boathouse door and all but threw Emily onto the skiff, her head clanging against one of the barrels. She remained where she fell, out cold, and Henk stepped indifferently past her, jumping into the pilot's seat to power up its antigrav engines.

Henk gunned the engines to full power. The vehicle juddered into life, lifted off its skids and shunted backwards at speed, knocking the boathouse doors violently out of the way.

Wrestling with the controls, Henk swung the skiff in a wide arc, bringing its nose around so it was pointing towards the slipway. So intent on escape was he that he didn't see the Doctor burst through the refectory door nearby.

'Oh no you don't,' bellowed the Doctor, storming after the vehicle, ignoring the stinging pinp.r.i.c.ks of snow being kicked up by the antigrav's backdraft. Gritting his teeth, he took a flying leap as the skiff hit the slipway and dipped down towards the river, just managing to grab hold of its loading arm as it rode out over the surface of the Severn, in a wash of spray.

213.

Immediately the Doctor felt his grip slipping. His feet were dragging through the skiffs choppy wake, its foaming, icy fingers pulling at him, threatening to yank him into the murky depths.

Grimacing with strain, he wrenched his legs away from the water, barely wrapping them around the loading arm in time as his fingers slipped, and he found himself dangling upside down, waves whipping at his hair.

'On the plus side,' he thought, 'at least that leaves my hands free.'

In a flash, the Doctor had the sonic screwdriver pointed at a control box, and the loading arm began to swing around with a whine of servos, sweeping towards Henk, who remained oblivious to the presence of his additional pa.s.senger.

'h.e.l.lo, stranger!' cried the Doctor, arms open wide as if ready to embrace an old friend.

Henk's eyes widened in shock, noticing too late as the loading arm swept towards him, carrying its insanely grinning payload. The two bodies slammed into one another, and the next thing Henk knew he was on the deck, tangled beneath a ma.s.s of bony limbs and an enormously long overcoat. He kicked hard, his boot connecting with the Doctor's chest, sending the interfering fool flying. Henk scrambled to his feet, blaster in hand, and waved it menacingly in the Doctor's direction.

'I've just about had enough of you,' Henk shouted wildly, his face crimson, the personification of rage. Flecks of saliva flew from his mouth, as he poured all his anger and frustration towards the Doctor. 'Do you have 214.

any idea how much money I could have made out of this little number? Do you? Between you and that rancid Krillitane witch, you've ruined everything. Everything.'

Sprawled on the deck, the Doctor looked angrily back at Henk.

'What you were doing was wrong. Beyond unethical. What's worse, Febron knew it and still carried on. The Krillitanes are sentient beings.

Whatever they've done, however ruthless they are, they still have rights.'

'I couldn't give a Pescaton's scaly fin for Krillitane rights. No amount of ethics will buy you your own solar system, Doctor. For all I care, they can kill each other and any stinking Earthling that gets in their way. But you know what? You, I'm going to take great pleasure in killing myself.'

With a cold, unpleasant sneer, Henk raised his blaster and took aim.

Unaware of events transpiring within the Cathedral, the Krillitane horde had overcome Captain Darke's defensive forces, thundering onwards over the bodies of the dead.

'Captain, they've breached the wall,' shouted one of the men, as Darke wearily pulled his sword from the belly of a felled beast, one of so many they had slain. The Krillitanes surely hadn't expected to encounter such a spirited opposition, he reflected, proud of his men.

A hiss, terrifyingly close, alerted the Captain to another attack, and he swung round to find a Krillitane bearing down upon him, fangs glistening. He stumbled backwards, struggling to lift his sword, but there was no 215.

time. Then, with a thump and a whimper, the creature tumbled to one side, a pike embedded in its back. Darke breathed a sigh of relief, as young Miller retrieved the weapon that had just saved his life. They took refuge behind its lifeless body.

Exhausted, Miller panted, 'What shall we do? There are too many off them.'

'Keep your head up, lad. We're not finished yet,' Darke rea.s.sured him. But the young man was right: they were vastly outnumbered, and clearly this line of defence had failed. Yet even with the casualties they had suffered, they had brought down a great many Krillitanes, and the Captain drew strength from that fact. 'However bad this gets, these beasts are not invincible.'

Already the last of the Krillitanes were at the wall, scaling it with ease and moving onto the buildings beyond. The battle would have to move on, into the city.

'Miller, find any of the men who can still fight. We need to regroup, chase the devils down and attack them from behind, while our secondary line engages them at the High Street.'

'Sir.' Miller got to his feet and made off towards the gate, where a few of the troops were already gathering.

Darke dragged himself up and began to follow Miller, but he'd barely gone five paces when a new sound echoed from within the Cathedral, a howl, deeper and more threatening than the bat-like hiss of the Krillitanes. Miller and the other men heard it too, and looked to their commander, unsure what to do.

216.

The Captain tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, listening, waiting for any sign of the source of that tremendous noise. For a moment there was nothing, save for the deafening silence that followed all battles, and then the howl rang out again, closer this time. Much closer.

Toch'Lu pitched and took another dive at the Esteemed Father, but her strike was parried by the larger Krillitane, and he slashed at her right wing, claws ripping through the thin web of skin as she flew past. The wing was ruined, little more than shredded rags, and it was all Toch'Lu could do to remain in the air long enough to find her footing on the sloping roof without smas.h.i.+ng into it.

'If your forebears could only witness the lack of respect you show the Beast of Bessan, they would be ashamed,' the Esteemed Father snarled, stalking Toch'Lu as she fought to regain her balance. 'Your generation, so thrilled with the power of flight, you think those wings are a mark of your superiority.'

They are a symbol of progress, of the future, to those of us who recognise the true destiny of the Krillitanes,' Toch'Lu snapped back, edging towards the apex of the tower, desperate to retain some tactical advantage over her rival by holding the upper ground.

The Esteemed Father feigned a lunge at his opponent, gaining a little ground on her in the process. 'Destiny? We live to hunt and kill and conquer. What greater destiny is there?'

217.

'But we could be so much more. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that?' They had had this argument before, many times, but Toch'Lu was desperate to make him understand. 'We, alone in the universe, have the power to shape our physical form, yet we are capricious, fickle, adopting attributes such as these wings on a whim, because they delight us. It is time we used our ability to discover our ultimate form, the physical embodiment of everything the G.o.ds created us to be.'

'Do not presume to lecture me on the will of the G.o.ds. I am the Esteemed Father, Guardian of the Faith, the twelfth-born of the twelfth-born, as it ever shall be, as it ever was. I am the servant of the G.o.ds. I am the destiny of the Krillitanes.'

'You are blinded by dogma and enthralled by your own self-importance,' the Brood Mother retorted. 'Your time has pa.s.sed, cousin. The Krillitanes must follow a new path.'

'And you would lead them?' The Esteemed Father made no attempt to hide his disdain, but there was a wildness in Toch'Lu's gaze that unsettled him, a look of ideological fervour.

'Still you do not understand. My followers and I have no interest in personal gain, or the attainment of power. We merely wish to shepherd the Krillitane race in its endeavour to reach our fullest potential. The destiny of the Krillitanes is not to serve the G.o.ds, but to replace them.'

'As the embodiment of the will of the ancient G.o.ds, I 218 218 cannot allow that.' For the first time there was no malice in the Esteemed Father's tone, just a dry, unequivocal statement of fact.

Then it is your time to die,' hissed Toch'Lu, and with a screech of fury she launched herself at her adversary, bringing both of them cras.h.i.+ng onto the tiles.

Clawing and biting, the combatants bounced across the roof, rolling down towards the edge. Toch'Lu continued her frenzied attack as they tumbled, oblivious to the vicious blows the Esteemed Father dealt her. She was determined to pull him over the edge, even though the fall would certainly kill them both. Her life was unimportant. She would face her final judgement secure in the knowledge that she had sent the Krillitanes upon the path of progress.

Realising her plan, the Esteemed Father abandoned any effort to defend himself and instead scrabbled to grab hold of something, anything that would halt their descent. Tiles splintered as his claws tore through them, but he was powerless to halt their inexorable descent. As the world spun around him he saw it was too late, and they shot over the edge, falling, plummeting downwards.

With a wrench, sudden pain shot through the Esteemed Father's shoulder, ripping through muscles and tendons like jagged gla.s.s. By some miracle, their fall had been interrupted.

Toch'Lu hung from his waist, the claws of one hand digging into the flesh above his hip. He looked upwards, ignoring the agony, curious as to who had saved him.

219.

Broken Wing returned his gaze, then looked towards Toch'Lu. Her face was calm, at peace, ready. It was time. The Krillitane released his grip on the Cathedral's stone facade, and the three of them fell, together.

220.

SIXTEEN.

*he Krillitanes spread across the city like a virulent _ plague, a Ttorrent of grey-brown bodies crawling through every gap, every possible hiding place in their hunt for the traitor. They moved northwards at speed, through empty houses where breakfasts had been left on tables, fires still burning in hearths, until they caught up with the stragglers, the old and the weak, those unable to flee in time.

Then the Krillitanes feasted.

There was little Butcher and his men could do to help, except carry out their orders to evacuate, but the panic spread too quickly for the soldiers to contain it, and the streets flooded with screaming people, running wildly, praying, or simply falling to their knees, waiting for the hounds of h.e.l.l to drag them into the underworld.

Butcher came to an inn, recognising it as one where 221 221 he had spent more than a few bawdy evenings. He tried the door, but it was locked. The publican was a good man, but his wife was a stubborn sort. He'd wager she wouldn't want to leave. 'John, are you in there? Open up. You must leave at once. Your lives are in danger.'

John Garrud's m.u.f.fled voice came from the other side. 'We aren't going anywhere. Leave us alone.'

The soldier looked back along the street. The Captain's plan had stalled the progress of these dastardly invaders as long as it could, but now all was lost. If he could just save this one last household...

'You'll die if you don't come with me right now.' But his pleas were met with stoic silence.

He heard a disturbance, the clatter of pots and pans being thrown aside, back along the street in a house he had already checked was clear. They were close. Too close for him to escape. Butcher unsheathed his sword, resolving to make a stand. He didn't have to wait long.