Doctor Who_ Logopolis Part 12

The Doctor eyed him suspiciously. 'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure. The mean free path would be reduced to a matter of millimetres. It can't be done, Doctor.' Mockingly he added, 'Not even with faith and hope.'

The Doctor glanced at the door. 'Al right, we'll risk the guards. But we'll have to be careful.'

The TARDIS carrying Adric and Nyssa had arrived at its destination, and materialised discreetly in the shadows around the base of the Pharos antenna. Inside, the two companions had been watching the huge basket-like structure on the viewer screen.

'So that's what the Earth people are using to beam messages to the stars,' said Nyssa.

'Trying to call up alien intelligences.'

'Then they should be very pleased to see us,' Adric said, pulling the door-release lever.

'Except that they won't be.' The sound of dawn birdsong filtered in as the big double door swung inwards.

'Why not?' Nyssa asked.

'People never are when they get what they've always wanted,' Adric replied.

'You'll see.'

Together they stepped cautiously out into the cold morning air and ran for cover.

At the end of the corridor the Doctor paused to lift a slat of the venetian blinds. Tucked into the shadows on the far side of the car park, he saw the unmistakable blue shape of the TARDIS.

The double doors were ajar, and in the opening loomed the vague outline of the figure that had fol owed him to Logopolis and back. Something distinctly proprietorial about the patient way he waited in the TARDIS entrance sent a chill through the Doctor's body.

'Hey, Doc, are you OK?' Tegan was by his side, recalling him to the business in hand.

The Doctor turned from the window, instantly himself again. He knew the danger of showing any sign of weakness in front of the Master. 'This is going to need split-second timing,' he said crisply. 'We've got to get across to the antenna control room and re-align it on whatever's left of Logopolis. That way we should be near enough to that CVE the Monitor was trying to re-open.

The Master confirmed the plan with a nod.

'Good,' said the Doctor. 'Then follow me. And watch out for those security guards.'

Downstairs the sonic screwdriver made quick work of the chain on the safety door that lead out into the enclosure, and from there it was a short sprint across open ground to the cover of the row of huts. They pressed themselves up against the wall while a group of early morning workmen wheeled their bicycles in through the main gate and ambled past within a few feet from where they stood. The Doctor contemplated the open ground between them and the antenna, mounted on its cl.u.s.ter of girders and gantries. The sky was getting lighter, and every delay made the venture more dangerous. Just as he judged it right to move, two security men pulled open the main gate, allowing a car to roll slowly in towards the Doctor and his party, cutting off their direct route to the antenna.

The Doctor pul ed Tegan back into the shadow of the huts, but behind them the Master, tiring of the delay, reached into his coat for the weapon he had intended to use on the technician.

The Doctor noticed the movement, and turned in time to grab the weapon just as it was about to go off. But the noise of the scuffle alerted the two security men, and a voice shouted, 'Intruders! Come on, after them!'

The Doctor broke cover, and Tegan had no choice but to follow his flapping scarf and coat. This wasn't her idea of fun, playing some maniac game of tag, in and out of the low buildings. At least the Doctor seemed to have some sense of the geography of the place, avoiding the culs-de-sacs between the huts. Then they rounded a corner and ran straight into the workmen. There was a sudden tangle of limbs and a clatter of bicycles.

Tegan managed to evade the grabbing hands, but with his great loose coat and his flying scarf the Doctor was an easier quarry. Looking behind her Tegan saw the security men closing in.

Then came a brief flash of light and a short sizzling sound. The Doctor looked up from his struggle to see the Master had missed his aim at the workmen, but was still pointing the deadly weapon. With a howl of rage he shook off his a.s.sailants and dived for the Master, grabbing the device and hurling it across the asphalt path.

'Sentimental fool,' hissed the Master, throwing him back against one of the huts.

'Thanks to you we're weaponless.' The Doctor hit the slatted walls with a thud that knocked the air from his lungs.

If it hadn't been for the intervention of Adric and Nyssa at that moment he would certainly have been captured. At the approach of the workmen with their bicycles the two companions had shrunk back behind a water barrel outside one of the huts. Adric knew that the Watcher had brought them there to help the Doctor, but until the moment came he hadn't been sure exactly how.

Unfortunately Tegan had a very similar idea. As the two security men came pounding up to the scene she rushed forward waving her arms and shouting at the top of her voice, 'You've got all this totally topsy-turvy. The Doctor's here to help, and if you stop him it could be the last thing you'll ever do.'

At the same time Adric had moved out into the open. He hadn't intended to topple the water barrel on the way, but the result certainly heightened the atmosphere of total confusion that was suddenly unleashed on the Pharos Project.

While Nyssa signalled to Tegan to stay quiet, Adric declared loudly: 'Nyssa and I have heard your message across the universe and have come to answer your cal .'

The Master tugged at the Doctor's coat. 'You and I have work to do,' he whispered.

Though reluctant to leave his companions, the Doctor was bound to agree. He followed the Master discreetly out of sight, around the corner of the hut.

'Message?' one of the security men was saying. 'What? Who are you people?' It was Nyssa's turn for theatricalities. 'We are the alien beings you seek.'

'We are intelligences from deep s.p.a.ce,' Adric chimed in. The chief security man gestured ineffectually for silence. 'Now just a minute . . . Please!'

'Every word of this is true,' Tegan shouted, her outback Aussie voice easily the loudest present. 'Wel , come on, you lot! Don't just stand about. Let's go and see someone in authority!'

The Doctor found himself running towards the antenna on his own. At the absurd risk of being seen by the security men the Master had hung back, losing precious moments to scan the ground. He wasn't going to let the Doctor's delicate sensibilities deprive him of the companions.h.i.+p of his favourite weapon.

Luckily for the Master, the two security men and the workmen were engrossed in their interrogation of Tegan, Adric and Nyssa. He scooped up the weapon and, with a sardonic glance in the direction of the antenna, where the Doctor could be seen beginning the long climb up the steel ladder, he doubled back towards the computer room.

The technician was stirring. His first, and last, conscious awareness was of powerful arms grabbing his white coat and hauling him to his feet. He felt cold metal against the side of his head, and then there was a sizzle and a smell of ozone and the world exploded into a giant dome of light. The Master pocketed the ca.s.sette recorder. A moment later he and the plump fluted column had vanished from the computer room.

From the door of the TARDIS the Watcher had seen the Master retracing his steps to the computer room, as he saw now the Doctor's perilous ascent of the Pharos antenna.

These were the conditions of the moment he knew had to come. In his mind was a clock, its hands closing on the inevitable vertical of midnight.

The higher the Doctor climbed the more the wind lashed at him, bellowing out his coat like some wild red sail. His hands ached on the cold metal rungs, and at one point he paused to fumble in his pockets for gloves. He took the opportunity to look down to the dizzyingly diminished enclosure, just in time to see the tiny figures of Adric, Nyssa and Tegan being marched into the building by the security guards.

There were no gloves, and by the time he arrived at the parapet his knuckles were blue.

He leant for a moment against the rail and took stock of the geography. The articulating structure he was standing on was designed to revolve about the base as the antenna tracked across the sky. The swaying metal walkway ahead formed a long thin bridge across to the bowl of the parabolic aerial. The cable strapped to the railing like the sinew of a giant arm lead back from the bowl to a large box-like construction near where the Doctor stood. He pushed open the door and looked inside. As he had deduced from the cable, it was the antenna control room. What he had not expected to find was the Master, calmly making connections to an electrical conduit in the wall.

'I decided to use my TARDIS after all,' the Master said without interrupting his work.

The Doctor noticed the ugly column in one corner of the room. He took out the light speed overdrive from his top pocket. 'You didn't miss this?' 'I gave you that to demonstrate my trust, Doctor. But I do not take foolish risks. There is the real light speed overdrive.'

The Master waved towards the work-bench, where a similar device glowed among the dials and switches. 'We have only to connect this feed from the computer room, and the job is done.' He handed the end of the jumper wire to the Doctor. 'As you devised the plan, I think the honour should be yours, Doctor.' And with that he strolled out onto the parapet.

The Doctor ran his eye over the work-bench. The light speed overdrive was hooked into the oscilloscope that metered the radio frequency output to the antenna. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, but as a quick improvisation it was perfectly workable. Once again the Doctor had to admit admiration for the Master's ingenious practicality. With the sonic screwdriver in one hand and the jumper wire in the other he began to complete the task.

Outside, the Master looked down over the rail to the enclosure far below, where with a flurry of activity the establishment was beginning its working day. His thin lips curled into a smile. 'Alien intelligences! I'll show them the quality of alien intelligence.'

From his pocket he took the looted ca.s.sette recorder and, softly in order to avoid alerting the Doctor in the room behind him, began to speak into it.

'Peoples of the universe. Please attend carefully. The message that fol ows is vital to the future of all of you . . . '

With a sense of satisfaction the Doctor rapidly checked the connections he had made.

The moment had come to throw the switch.

A deep grinding sound shook the room as the whole steel structure began to move, rotating the basket-like bowl of the antenna to point at a pin-p.r.i.c.k in the heavens he had plotted on the co-ordinator. He studied the small circular screen of the oscilloscope excitedly and reached out to make a minute adjustment to one of the dials. The cable was now feeding the a.n.a.logue converter with a regular flow of digital input from the computer room, and as far as the Doctor could judge from the feedback patterns the transmission link was established. The data was reaching the CVE, and it was stabilising!

He heard a chuckle behind him. 'So it works! Congratulations, Doctor. I always knew you would do it.'

'You did most of this,' the Doctor conceded generously.

'Oh no . . . I was little more than a humble a.s.sistant. I have learnt a great deal. And now it is time for you to go and explain the presence of your friends. There's quite a hubbub outside.'

The Doctor got up from the work-bench. 'Quite right. We'd better leave this until the new equilibrium is established. A mistake now could destroy everything.'

'I know that, Doctor. And it could happen so easily.'

Something in that level, mocking voice made the Doctor hesitate at the door. 'What do you mean?'

The cold dark eyes gazed back unblinkingly. 'The universe is hanging on a thread. A single inversion pulse down that cable and the CVE would close forever. Even a humble a.s.sistant could do it.' While he spoke the Master placed the ca.s.sette machine on the work-bench and bent the goose neck of the talk-back microphone down towards it. His finger prodded the play-back b.u.t.ton.

The Doctor listened in horror to the whisper that came thinly from the miniature loudspeaker. 'The message that follows is vital to the future of all of you . . . At the time of speaking the fate of the universe hangs in the balance, and the fulcrum of that balance is the Pharos Project on Earth. It is from there that I am speaking. The choice for you all is simple: a continued existence under my guidance, or total annihilation . . .'

The Doctor had heard enough. 'Blackmail!' he exclaimed.

'No, Doctor. I am simply reporting the state of affairs. I have the power now to save them or destroy them.'

'You're utterly mad!' The Doctor made a move forward.

But the Master already had the weapon levelled at the Doctor's head. 'Please stay where you are. We cannot have the proceedings interrupted.' From his pocket he took the silver device the Doctor had seen him use to devastating effect on Logopolis and clipped it neatly on to the end of the light speed overdrive. 'Now the CVE is mine, Doctor.'

The Doctor edged away, as if intimidated by the weapon. He had no illusions about its unpleasant consequences, but his main object was to get nearer the door. There was a good chance the CVE had stabilised by now, and it would only be under the Master's power as long as the link between it and the improvised apparatus held. The Doctor remembered the long cable that snaked between the control room and the parabolic aerial.

Perhaps there was a way to stop this final catastrophe. The Doctor dived out through the door, slamming it behind him.

The metal plates of the swaying walkway clattered under his feet. Dwarfed by the gigantic proportions of the great bowl, the Doctor raced across the tenuous bridge that hung in the air between the control room and the aerial. His eye scanned the handrail, tracing the path of the cable along its length. Somewhere there had to be a junction he could disconnect. Over the sound of the wind he heard the Master's voice behind him.

'Don't make any plans, Doctor. Your future ends here.'

The Doctor threw himself flat on the walkway as the beam struck sparks from the rail.

a.s.suming a five-second recharge cycle for the weapon the Doctor scrambled to his feet again, ran on - and dived again. To his horror the shot did not come. The Master had outguessed him, and now he was a sitting target.

The Doctor jerked his head round to look back, and was astonished to find the Master's face grinning at him from behind the gla.s.s of the control room window. Of course! With his target so close to the antenna the Master dared not risk firing a high-energy beam. A ricochet could disrupt transmission. But what was he up to now?

The Doctor dismissed the question and, obeying the First Law of Crisis, concentrated on the cable. At the point where he now lay, it branched away from the railing and ran directly under the walkway. He put his head over the edge and saw the smooth line of the insulation interrupted by a bulky contusion. The connector he was looking for lay directly beneath him. So did a postage-stamp-sized stretch of asphalt car park. But he tried not to think of that as he climbed through the railing.

At that instant he discovered what the Master was up to in the control room. The whole walkway began to tilt with alarming speed, pitching him forward into s.p.a.ce. The Doctor grabbed for the only handhold he could see, the cable itself.

It sagged under his weight, and then with a sickening snapping sound the ties on either side broke away from the struts, jerking him down until he hung fifteen feet below the girders. His hands gripped the bottom of the U formed by the cable, and he swung there with nothing beneath the soles of his shoes but thin air.

The positive aspect of the situation was that he now had control over the connector. The negative side of life had also to be faced: if he were to separate the connector, as it flew apart there would be very little chance of holding on to both ends. And whichever end he chose would almost certainly not bear his weight.

But the Master was poised to destroy the CVE. The cable powered a gigantic weapon that put the whole universe in the palm of his hand.

The angry thought silenced all debate. Inching his fingers backwards and forwards the Doctor began to unscrew the casing.

A picture floated into his mind of a distant, vaguely formed figure, folded back from the time that was to come by the turmoil of the present. Even as he methodically continued the rocking movement of his hands, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g out the thread millimetre by millimetre, he had a sense of those eyes watching him: his own eyes from the future.

Tegan, Nyssa and Adric were being marched out of the building towards the waiting van when one of the security guards shouted, 'Up there! Come on!' The exclamation triggered a sudden flurry of officialdom towards the base of the antenna, and the three companions found themselves abandoned by most of their interrogators.

Adric cricked his neck upwards, and gasped to see the tiny figure swinging from the loop of cable below the walkway. The Doctor's plan must have gone hideously wrong.

Officials were clambering up the ladder, and for a moment there seemed to be a chance they would reach him if he could hang on long enough.

But as the helpless companions watched, the loop of cable sprayed out a cascade of sparks and came apart. For a fraction of a second the tiny figure swung on a single thread. And then it snapped.

Adric, Nyssa and Tegan ran across the asphalt towards the hideously crumpled shape on the ground. It seemed impossible that he should still be alive. But they saw the contorted figure move, and a feebly lifted arm motioned them to stay back.

Adric, who was closest, heard the familiar voice. 'This is the end . . . but the moment has been prepared for.'

The Doctor struggled to lift his head, and reached out a hand towards the shadows behind him, as if he expected someone to be there. Adric blinked: there was someone there. A vague featureless figure stepped forward without a sound and took the Doctor's hand. It was as if the Watcher had been waiting there at the base of the antenna for the Doctor's fall.

Tegan's voice was a hoa.r.s.e whisper. 'What's happening to him?'

The Doctor's arm contracted, drawing the Watcher towards him, closer and closer until the two shapes seemed to blend. The faces melted together and became formless.

'He's changing . . . ' said Adric. 'The Doctor's regenerating.'

Nyssa stared as the Doctor and the Watcher melted into a blur. 'So the Watcher was the Doctor all the time . . .!'

The figure on the ground straightened its limbs and sat up slowly. A smoother, younger face was beaming somewhat vacuously up at them. 'Well, that's the end of that,' said a voice they had not heard before. 'But it's probably the beginning of something completely different.'