Doctor Who_ The Gallifrey Chronicles Part 31

Marnal snapped out of existence.

'We need to get to Earth.'

'Master, our work here '

'Unimportant.'

'I calculate a point seven eight probability that this is a trap.'

'It is a trap, I've no doubt about that at all.'

'Then '

'Did you see it, K9? On the edge of the image?'

182.

K9's ears waggled. 'Image a.n.a.lysis reveals alien object.'

'A leg, wouldn't you say?'

There had been something right at the edge of the shot, a spindly black limb with tiny hooks all over its hard, segmented surface.

'Affirmative. Initial identification: the fore limb of species asilidae asilidae, cross-checking database.'

The Doctor was already at the console, programming in the numbers Marnal had given him.

'Warning, master. Alien species identified. It is the Vore. By Supreme Council order, date index 309456/4756.7RE/1213GRT/100447TL, no Time Lord is to engage the Vore, all time s.h.i.+ps are to observe an exclusion zone no less than one pa.r.s.ec and one century, in all five directions from any Vore moon.

Further warning: this is a potential Last Contact. No further information.'

The Doctor sighed. It had taken a long time to get here. He couldn't dawdle on the return journey.

'Master?' K9 asked, as the Doctor started working at the console.

'I need to divert all power to the engines, K9. Slightly more than I dare.

There, now all I need to do is '

'Master. It is imperative you do not pull that lever.'

The Doctor's hand was on it. He hesitated.

'You must keep yourself safe, master.'

The Doctor grasped the lever. 'If that's your only concern. . . '

'Please consider your actions more carefully, master.'

The Doctor did just that, for a moment. This wasn't a decision at all, was it? People were in danger. What was his alternative to run away and hide?

'We have to get back,' the Doctor said, pulling the lever.

He apologised to the s.h.i.+p. The lights flickered and dimmed, but the column in the centre of the console started pumping at something like its normal rate.

If anyone was monitoring the progress of the TARDIS on Klist they would have seen it powering towards them, before arcing around in a five-dimensional U-turn, picking up speed and heading back the way it had come.

'Before it's too late.'

183.

Q: Which modern English word is derived from the Greek words Which modern English word is derived from the Greek words algos algos, 'pain', and nostos nostos, 'a return home'?

From 'Increase Your Word Power' in the Skywords Skywords in-flight puzzle book, Early Summer 2005. in-flight puzzle book, Early Summer 2005.

( Answer on page Answer on page 228 228)

Chapter Eleven.

The Vore Games

Trix parked the car. Sat back in her seat. Her hands were only shaking a little.

Why wouldn't she be a little nervous?

There was a lot of Vore activity in this area. Here, in London, it was the worst she'd seen it. There were police and army patrols out. The radio was on the air as normal, the DJ on Capital Radio occasionally dropping in monster sightings with the traffic reports. An extended news on the hour gave updates and emergency information. The Vore had attacked human beings, not infras-tructure, so the main difficulty was staff shortages. There just weren't enough people around to deal with problems. The electricity and water were on, the roads were being cleared of abandoned and crashed cars. People were being urged to go to work, but to keep non-essential journeys to a minimum. The latest theory was that the Vore never attacked individuals, only groups. They never wiped out everyone. The DJ discussed this for some time with his guest, Badly Drawn Boy. That was the point when Trix tuned in to Radio 4, where it was being reported that batteries, petrol and fly spray were being rationed.

The home secretary went on air to tell an interviewer that if everyone carried ID cards, establis.h.i.+ng who was alive or dead and informing the families would be so much easier. Knowing where this kind of mentality would lead, actually knowing because she'd been to the future and seen it, she shouted at the radio. She imagined Fitz telling her to calm down, and she calmed down a little.

Driving through London had rarely been so painless. There was more litter around than usual, but no traffic. There was, of course, still a congestion charge. From time to time Trix would hear gunfire, and this usually meant a roadblock ahead. The last one had been manned by soldiers just back from Basra. She'd joked and flirted her way past them, once she'd proved she hadn't stolen the car. They were letting the Vore walk and fly around fire on them, the soldiers told her, and the creatures swept in to retaliate.

The streets, then, were all but empty. It matched her mood. She felt numbed by it all. No. . . She had to be honest with herself. She felt numb that Fitz had gone. The countless millions of other dead. . . well, they were just statistics. Brutal, but true. It was impossible to process what had hap-187 pened, and the lack of levelled buildings and piles of rubble made it harder to accept that anything had happened, now all the bodies had been cleared away. Were they in ma.s.s graves or in cold storage? A rather morbid thought, but practical, and it had only just occurred to her. All the bodies had to have been taken somewhere. Were the Vore taking them? She was going to have to start thinking like the Doctor. He would have asked questions like this.

She was thinking about him in the past tense. Trix had noticed it first about an hour ago, on the outskirts of the city.

This, now, was where the trail for the Doctor ran out: a street full of Victorian town houses in north London. There was nothing to distinguish it from any of the other streets around here. Trix stayed in the car for a moment to a.s.sess the situation. Plenty of monsters, but they were going about their incomprehensible business showing no sign of interest in her car. For the moment. They could turn on her instantly, relentlessly. They were nestling all around one of the houses, in a way she hadn't seen before. The numbers here suggested it was interesting to them. Was that because the Doctor was around? There was a detached outbuilding a garage? that was practically submerged in a ma.s.s of Vore, all crawling over each other.

Time to put her theory into action. Trix got out of the car, and opened up the boot. She'd picked up a dead Vore, one just lying on the side of a country lane, possibly even road kill. Now she pulled it out. It seemed far lighter than before. She dragged it to the front gate and propped it up. The Vore nestling on the garage exhibited what could have been mild curiosity, but nothing more. Most of them angled their heads and craned to get a look, but none of them took as much as a single hop towards her. Nervous, even so, about outstaying her welcome Trix took a box of firelighters she'd bought out of the glove compartment, stuffed about a third of them under the dead Vore and, after a couple of tries, set light to one with matches. Once she was sure the flames had caught she retreated to the car and waited.

The burning Vore gave off thick smoke with a green tinge to it. It took a minute or two, but then Trix could smell it even inside the car. It reeked of industrial solvents, as though she'd set fire to a pile of old rags soaked in glue and creosote. The smell was unpleasant for her, and made her choke, but it had an extraordinary effect on the Vore, who scattered like birds who'd heard a shotgun. Trix waited a minute, but the monsters settled elsewhere.

She could see them on nearby roofs and trees. There was a ring of them, resolutely staying away as though there was a gla.s.s wall blocking them.

Trix got out of the car and stood right next to the fire. The lieutenant in the town near her hotel had said the smell of burning Vore kept other Vore away. So, she'd come up with this experiment. The smell of burning humans would keep her away, she was sure, but there was more to this. This was more 188 like spraying Vore repellent around. Chemistry, not simply psychology. Which was why she was standing here now, letting the stink get into the fibres of her clothes. There were no Vore within fifty feet of her, but they could fly that distance in a matter of seconds. The fastest way to get dead now would be to start thinking she had made herself invincible. But this was a start.

As Trix waited by the fire she looked over at the house. The Vore had abandoned the outbuilding, revealing that it was a garage as she'd suspected.

The house itself like most of the others in the country by now had its windows and doors boarded up or barricaded. First, she made her way up the drive to the garage. It was all but empty. Walking around it, Trix found what looked like a hi-tech piece of brewing equipment in the middle of the s.p.a.ce, a three-inch strand of what looked like intestine on the rough concrete floor, and nothing else of note. The garage did give her a strange feeling, though just a slight sense of being unsettled, like time and s.p.a.ce hadn't been put back together quite right in here.

'Miss?' a woman's voice called out.

Trix turned. A middle-aged woman, wearing jeans and a sweats.h.i.+rt, stood in the doorway. She was shaking. Trix instinctively went over to her.

'Are you all right?' she asked. The older woman's eyes were rimmed with black, a combination of smudged make-up and lack of sleep.

'I've been in my house since they came,' she said.

Although she appeared calm, there was something distracted about her, signs of trauma. Trix wondered if she herself looked any different.

'My name is Trix,' she said.

'Jackie Winfield.' The woman held out her hand, and Trix shook it, a little awkwardly.

'Have you lost someone?'

'My husband,' she said quietly. 'Killed in front of me, the monsters just stood there and breathed white dust. . . '

'They killed my boyfriend the same way,' Trix told her, not wanting either of them to relive it.

'Oh. I'm sorry.' The woman looked it. 'The smoke keeps the monsters away?'

'I really hope so. Have you seen a man around here? Mid-forties, long hair, probably wearing a long velvet jacket?'

Mrs Winfield shook her head. 'There's been no one like that.'

'A police box?' Trix wondered, aware of a note of desperation in her voice.

Mrs Winfield looked confused. 'The police were here, the night the moon appeared.'

'The siege,' Trix remembered. 'That was definitely at this house?'

189.

'From what I could tell, it was this garage. They evacuated us, so we didn't get to see.'

Too much of a coincidence, Trix decided.

'Would you like some coffee?' Mrs Winfield offered.

The Vore were getting impatient, at least that's what Rachel a.s.sumed from their increased activity. If it had been a group of humans, the shuffling and looking around would have indicated it was an agitated one.

'The Doctor's TARDIS was damaged,' Marnal said slowly. 'Until it's been repaired it will travel more slowly than normal. You can see from your display that it is heading back this way. It will be here shortly.'

The hologram, or whatever it was, was still as impenetrable to Rachel as a magic-eye picture. She had asked Marnal if he could understand their language. She couldn't even make out sounds that might be Voreish; the only noises they made came from the chomping of their mouths. Marnal told her he was confident they could understand what he was saying, as Time Lords had a gift for languages.

Running through what had happened, again and again, Rachel wasn't sure why she and Marnal were still alive. The Vore had just made them stand here, and tended to b.u.mp into them to separate her from Marnal if she tried talking. They didn't do it every time, only when she and Marnal were facing each other. With all the monsters' jostling and wriggling about, Rachel wasn't sure if the same platoon of Vore had been watching them all this time, or whether there was a continual changing of the guard. It was like being in a room with a ticking time bomb she got the sense the Vore could lash out at any moment.

They had been here, she thought, for about two hours. She was used to the low gravity now, and was dimly aware that if she got back to Earth it would feel like she was carrying sandbags around. The air was thick and bleachy. It smelled, Rachel reflected, not unlike an old people's home.

The Vore were now hopping and skittering. For moments Rachel thought this was the point where she was going to die, but quickly realised the insects weren't even acknowledging them. They were crowding around the display.

'What's happening?' she asked Marnal.

'I think the TARDIS has just entered the solar system. Yes, there it is.'

The display started to flare and spark. Whatever was happening was very dramatic.

'They're manipulating the hypers.p.a.ce corridors, trying to trap the TARDIS.'

'You said they could use those like spiders use silk. They're weaving a web.'

Marnal nodded. 'You can get carried away with a.n.a.logies, but that one seems apposite.'

190.

Rachel a.s.sumed this was a compliment from the tone of his voice.

The hologram looked more like a firework display now, bright reds and blues splas.h.i.+ng out and scattering. She still had no idea what she was looking at, but it was large, violent, garish and entirely silent. Marnal was watching as though it was a boxing match, wincing and gasping in turn. Finally, the colours died down.

'They've got him, they're reeling him in,' he said, the excitement in his voice making it clear which side he was on.

Rachel wasn't feeling so happy. 'If they can catch the TARDIS like that, how are you planning to escape in it?'

'I know a few tricks the Doctor doesn't.' He didn't seem worried.

The display vanished, and the Vore started filing out of the chamber. It reminded Rachel of the end of a movie at a multiplex.

Marnal joined the queue of Vore. 'We should follow them,' he said, shuffling along.

'They're going to the TARDIS?'

'They must be.'

Rachel got into place behind Marnal.

'How long were you and Fitz together?'

The answer was almost embarra.s.sing. Mrs Winfield had just said she'd been married for thirty years.

'A few days,' Trix said. 'We were friends before this. We've only really kissed and cuddled.'