Doctor Who_ The Power of the Daleks Part 1

DOCTOR WHO.

THE POWER OF THE DALEKS.

by John Peel.

Prologue.

The Antarctic winds howled mournfully about the battlefield. Driven snow was already covering the bodies of the casualties. At first glance, the fallen figures might have been mistaken for human, but they had surrendered their humanity centuries earlier. Now their electronically enhanced lives had also been surrendered.

The Cyberman invasion was over.

Within the nearby Snowcap Snowcap s.p.a.ce tracking station things were beginning to return to normal. The technicians were tracking the s.p.a.ce tracking station things were beginning to return to normal. The technicians were tracking the Zeus Five Zeus Five s.p.a.cecraft that they had to guide in. Troops were cleaning out the debris and securing their base once again. Everyone was much too busy to pay attention to the three strangers who had helped the human race to defeat the Cybermen. By the time that anyone would get around to checking the immobile Cyberman saucer, there would be no trace of Able Seaman Ben Jackson, nor of his young friend Polly. And that mysterious old man known only as the Doctor had vanished as abruptly as the life from the Cybermen. s.p.a.cecraft that they had to guide in. Troops were cleaning out the debris and securing their base once again. Everyone was much too busy to pay attention to the three strangers who had helped the human race to defeat the Cybermen. By the time that anyone would get around to checking the immobile Cyberman saucer, there would be no trace of Able Seaman Ben Jackson, nor of his young friend Polly. And that mysterious old man known only as the Doctor had vanished as abruptly as the life from the Cybermen.

All around the world, the human race shook itself free of the shackles that the Cybermen had imposed in their attempt to drain the energy of Earth to feed to their own world, Mondas. Mondas was now no more than planetary dust, blowing on the cosmic winds to the far reaches of s.p.a.ce. The Earth had survived the experience, but it could hardly be said to be unchanged.

A fleet of heavy transport aircraft and dark helicopters bearing the logo of UNIT the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce settled down later that day by the Cyberman saucer. A select team of men led by Lieutenant Benton of the English division of UNIT secured the saucer, but found no signs of life. As soon as it was considered safe, the scientific team under Professor Allison Williams headed inside. It was, as UNIT's official chronicler Sarah Jane Smith later phrased it, 'The Aladdin's lamp of applied technology'. No matter where Williams and her team probed, fresh discoveries awaited them.

Nowhere was this more true than in the heart of the s.h.i.+p, where the awed scientists discovered the key that would eventually unlock the stars for the human race.

'At one and the same time,' wrote Sarah Jane Smith, 'the Cyberman invasion was both the greatest disaster and most astonis.h.i.+ng blessing ever to have happened to the human race.'

In the general euphoria, only a cursory search was made for the three missing people. When no trace was found, they were promptly forgotten. The human race concentrated on more important issues.

1.

We Must Get Back to the TARDIS.

Ben staggered against the wall of the Cybers.h.i.+p as it shook again. He barely managed to keep his grip on the Cyberweapon he clutched. He felt pretty certain that all of the invaders were dead, but there was no sense in taking chances. As the s.h.i.+p setted again, he pushed himself away from the wall and peered down the dimly lit corridors.

Only the emergency lights were in operation. Which way?

Choosing to go left, he slipped silently along the starkly efficient walkway. The Cybermen had long ago surrendered their emotions and any pa.s.sions they might once have possessed. This included any aesthetic senses, so the s.h.i.+p like their weapons and the Cybermen themselves was completely utilitarian.

One of the fallen creatures lay in a puddle of gunge in the corridor. Ben stepped over it, holding his breath. The Cybermen had replaced almost all of their living tissue with metal and plastics. The energy drain they had faced when Mondas had been destroyed had fused their circuits, melted their plastics and short-circuited their cybernetic brains. The few remaining pieces of organic tissue in each Cyberman, without the life-sustaining energies of the Cybersuits, had immediately collapsed and begun to decay.

It had left an awful mess and an even worse stench.

Somewhere in this tomb were Polly and the Doctor.

They had been taken captive by the Cybermen, and Ben hoped that they were still alive. The Cybermen killed only when they thought it necessary never for human reasons like gain or revenge. There was no reason Ben could think of that the dying Cybermen should have killed their captives.

Which didn't mean that they hadn't, of course.

Ben was a practical kind of man. He had to be, given his background. He'd spent his formative years on the streets on East London, barely keeping on the right side of the law. As soon as he was old enough to be accepted, he'd joined the Navy, to see the world. The idea of travel had appealed to him.

Then he'd met Polly and the Doctor... Since then, he'd seen plenty of travel, most of it in the fourth dimension.

Time travel... Sometimes after a lonely watch out at sea, Ben had stared up at the brilliant stars, spinning in the heavens. He'd sometimes wondered what it would be like to sail right out and join them. And he'd read a couple of books, to try and improve his mind. Talk about lost causes!

One book had been The Time Machine The Time Machine by H G Wells. The idea of bunking in a time s.h.i.+p talk about tall tales! Until he'd discovered that it was true by stepping out into seventeenth-century Cornwall. And if that wasn't bad enough, here he was right now thirty years in his own future. Maybe somewhere in this world there was a Ben Jackson looking forward to his own retirement... It was just too much for him to get used to. by H G Wells. The idea of bunking in a time s.h.i.+p talk about tall tales! Until he'd discovered that it was true by stepping out into seventeenth-century Cornwall. And if that wasn't bad enough, here he was right now thirty years in his own future. Maybe somewhere in this world there was a Ben Jackson looking forward to his own retirement... It was just too much for him to get used to.

Ben liked things simple. Pol well, she was a looker, all right. Long blonde hair, a pretty face and a charm that went right down to her soul. True, she was far from his own working-cla.s.s background, but that didn't really bother either of them. She was no sn.o.b, and he didn't hold her upbringing against her. Polly was really easy to get along with.

But the Doctor!

Ben turned a corner in the corridor, the Cyberweapon ready for use. Still nothing. One of the side doors had jammed, half-open. It led into some kind of a recharging booth. Maybe where the Cybermen plugged themselves in for breakfast. No cornflakes for them. But there was no sign of any humans, though. Ben moved on, thinking about the Doctor. Anything to keep himself believing his friends were still alive.

The Doctor had the appearance of an elderly man. Tall, thin, with a pinched face and expression to match. His eyes held a depth of almost cosmic proportions. His silvery hair hung neatly down to the nape of his neck. If he had been human, Ben would have guessed his age at around the sixty mark. One of the few things that Ben was sure about concerning the Doctor, though, was that he was not at all human.

The old man had never told either of his human travelling companions anything about his background.

'I'm a wanderer,' he had said at one point. 'An old man out for a stroll in the cosmic wastes. No more.' Ben had been utterly certain that the Doctor had, well, not exactly lied but he'd only told a part of the truth. A very small part.

Take that Heath Robinson craft he travelled about in the TARDIS. It was a lot like the Doctor himself, very deceptive. On the outside, it looked like a battered London Police Telephone Box. On the inside, it was an incredibly sophisticated and complex time machine, many times larger than its exterior dimensions would have suggested.

Just like the Doctor far more inside than there should have been, and just as unreadable, unpredictable and uncontrollable.

The Doctor could be irritating, condescending, brusque, callous and unthinking. On his good days. Yet, underneath all of his annoying habits, there was a flame of more than human decency about him. Ben felt drawn to the strange traveller. Like a good officer, the Doctor had an aura of command and self-a.s.surance about him. He needed help, though, and as long as was practical Ben knew he'd stick with the old man.

If he could find him again.

In the gloom, he could make out another half-shut door.

Probably nothing to worry about, but he slid softly into the room, his stolen gun before him.

'Ben!'

His face cracked into a wide grin as he saw movement inside the room. Polly was strapped into some kind of silvery chair. Beside her, apparently asleep, was the Doctor.

He hurried over to them.

'h.e.l.lo, d.u.c.h.ess,' he said, slinging the Cyberweapon over his shoulder.

'Did you have to give us such a fright?' Polly asked, trying to sound angry with him. Ben could hear her relief under the words. As he bent to examine the bonds that held her, she nodded her head towards one of the panels in the wall. 'The controls to free us are over there.'

'Okay,' he replied. 'Sit tight.' Crossing to the panel, he followed her instructions to the right switches. Praying that there was enough power left in the system, he reversed their settings.

With a faint whine, the straps receded into the arms of the chairs. Polly rubbed her wrists to gt the circulation going again. The Doctor merely slumped forward. Ben rushed over to catch him.

'What's wrong?' he asked over his shoulder at Polly.

'Did the Cybermen...?' His words trailed off, not wanting to give voice to his fears.

'No. They just left us here, waiting till they won the battle.' Polly knelt beside Ben, her face drawn in concern.

'He just fainted a moment ago.'

Ben was getting really worried. Despite his apparent age, the Doctor had always been lively and possessed more vitality than any six normal people. But for the past couple of weeks, he seemed to have been slowing down.

Sometimes he'd almost collapsed on little walks. Ben had even caught him napping over the TARDIS controls. And he seemed to have become older and frailer.

Gently raising the Doctor's face, Ben was shocked at what he saw. The old man's features were almost grey. The skin was cold to his touch. There was only the faint fluttering of the Doctor's nostrils to show that he was even breathing.

'Come on, Doctor,' he said gently. 'Wakey-wakey! It's all over now.'

A faint groan escaped the old man's lips. Then his eyelids fluttered. It seemed to take him forever to focus on the face of his young companion. 'Ben.'

'That's right.' Ben felt like dancing with relief. It worried him to see the Doctor like this. 'It's okay. Time to get moving.'

The Doctor closed his eyes as if drawing on the last meagre reserves of his strength. 'Over?' he repeated, his voice thin and reedy nothing like his usual sergeant-major pay-attention-to-me-you-'orrible-little-man voice.

'No, it's not over. Not by a long way.' He sighed.

'What are you going on about?' Ben asked, puzzled.

'The Cybermen are all dead. It's just a matter of mopping up now'

'No.' Taking a deep breath, the Doctor managed to find the strength from somewhere to push himself to his feet.

He stood there swaying for a moment, but shook off both of their offers of help. Drawing his long cloak protectively about his frail form, he said with a spark of his old authority: 'We must get back to the TARDIS!

Immediately!'

Polly stared at him in shock. She could see the changes in him as well as Ben could. 'You need to rest first,' she said, gently.

'No,' he snapped back. 'There's no time. We must get back to the TARDIS.' He started for the door.

'What's the rush?' Ben asked. He caught Polly's worried look and tried to give her a rea.s.suring smile. It didn't feel very convincing.

'Don't dawdle,' the Doctor said. He led the way unsteadily back down the corridor towards the airlock. Ben and Polly fell in close behind him in case he needed their help. They both knew better than to argue with him when his mind was made up. They always lost in such situations.

The cold blast of air from outside almost sent the Doctor sprawling. Once again, though, he summoned up the energy he needed from somewhere. Gripping the edges of his cloak, he plunged out into the frozen wasteland. Ben and Polly sealed the parkas they'd borrowed from the Snowcap base and stumbled out after him.

Wind sliced through them both, trying to strip the flesh from their frozen bones. Heads down, they staggered after the Doctor. How the old man was bearing up in these conditions was a mystery to Ben. He'd looked so worn and frail, but somehow he forced his feet to plod on through the snow.

As they plodded through the swirls of snow, Ben looked around. The still bodies of the Cybermen lay where they had fallen. There was no pity in his heart for them they wouldn't even begin to understand such an emotion but it just seemed like a horrible waste. To die like this, for no real reason. Polly hugged closer to him, chilled by more than the wind.

Ben looked up. The Doctor had vanished ahead of them. He and Polly had slowed to look at the bodies of the fallen warriors. The Doctor must have rushed on ahead of them. Ben could see the line of the Doctor's unsteady footprints in the snow. Half supporting Polly, he stumbled on through the numbing wind.

Finally, the TARDIS came into view. Snow had been driven around it, but the dark blue of the police box seemed to repel the flakes. There was a gap of an inch or so all around the doors. They were closed, and there was no sign of the Doctor.

'Ben,' Polly said, fear in her voice, 'where's the Doctor?'

'He must have beaten us to it, d.u.c.h.ess,' Ben said. He pointed to the line of tracks leading up to the doors. 'See?'

Polly tried the handle of the door. It was locked. She gave Ben a quick, frightened look. Ben understood her perfectly. If they were out here in the freezing wind much longer, they would be as dead as the Cybermen.

Ben started to hammer on the doors. 'Doctor!' he yelled, hoping that his voice was carrying inside the craft.

'Doctor! It's us! Ben and Polly! Let us in!'

It seemed like he was banging his fists on the doors for an eternity. Finally, the doors gave way. He and Polly stumbled through them and into the times.h.i.+p beyond.

'Warmth at last!' Polly laughed, rubbing her hands together. Ben shook himself like a dog, his eyes focusing on the frail form of the Doctor. He had been standing just inside the doors, operating the manual controls to open them for his companions.

The old man stumbled across the large room from the doors to the mushroom-shaped control panel. His cloak was still wrapped around him, only the tips of his fingers protruding. He grabbed the edge of the control console, obviously fighting to stay on his feet.

'Must close the doors...' His voice was thin, almost ghostly. He lurched like a drunkard, hitting the switch more by accident than design. With a faint whine the double doors to the outside world closed behind him.

'You okay, Doctor?' Ben asked, worried. He didn't look it, but the Doctor could get very touchy about personal questions.

Ignoring Ben completely, the Doctor started to throw switches and set controls. It seemed to be draining him of all his remaining energy. Ben could see beads of sweat trickling down the Doctor's face. He seemed to be fighting not simply to stay conscious but to stay alive.

There was a sudden gasp from Polly, and she clutched Ben's arm in panic. Ben put his hand over hers and felt the tremors in her fingers.

'Ben,' she whispered, 'he looks like he's dying!'

He didn't want to admit how close her guess was to his.

'It'll be okay, d.u.c.h.ess,' he said. 'Just a bit tired, I reckon.'

The Doctor must have caught some of their exchange.

He glanced up. His eyes appeared to be filled with pain.

'This old body of mine is wearing a bit thin,' he said weakly. 'I must get the TARDIS's help!' He returned to his tasks, frowning in concentration and pain. He had to hold on to the rim of the panels to drag himself around.