The Well-Mannered War Part 29

'Deactivation key. It fits in the apparatus below here, in master control.'

Stokes snapped his fingers. 'That computer room place?' He turned to Romana, suddenly eager. 'On the level below here there's a central exchange. I've been there when I was first shown round.'

Harmock held the card up triumphantly. 'All I have to do is slot this in and key in the deactivation code and the Femdroids would grind to a halt. But I can't imagine why I would ever want to.' He gestured to the city. 'Now, we have enough troubles at the moment without this scaremongering and mudslinging.'

Stokes put out his hand. His face was purple and sweaty. 'Give me that key.' Before Harmock could react he had reached out and s.n.a.t.c.hed it away.

'Don't be a fool,' said Harmock as Stokes made for the door. 'It will work only if you key in the correct code, which only I know.'

'They're crazy, Harmock,' Stokes shrieked. 'And we're their playthings.

Dolls playing with their owners, leading us all in a danse macabre danse macabre.'

Harmock reared up. 'Put that key down or I'll...'

'Yes?' Romana prompted.

'I'll call Galatea,' Harmock finished, his shoulders sagging. His mind was refusing to function normally, and his mouth felt dry. It was as if somebody had literally pulled a rug from underneath his feet, and, toppling and unsteady, he collapsed into his chair.

K9, who had been taking regular peeks out of the door, called suddenly, 'Mistress. Femdroids are approaching. Advise this door be sealed.'

Romana followed his suggestion. She leapt for the door control and the two halves of the white portal began to slide together.

Relief bathed Harmock as the two Femdroids advanced down the facing corridor. He didn't recognise them, and they were dressed in black rather than blue, but he was sure they were going to set everything to rights. He watched as they brought up their hands, and revealed slender, clear, gla.s.s devices shaped like long needles. There was a strange ripple in the air and an electronic burbling noise; and then blue sparkles shot from the devices and went streaking through the door to disperse harmlessly over his head.

The door closed.

He threw himself behind his desk, panting, his chest heaving in and out.

'My G.o.d!' he heard Stokes say. Underneath the desk he could see the artist's purple face.

'Now do you believe us?'

'I'm sure they have good reasons,' replied Harmock. He raised his head above the desk. 'h.e.l.lo, ladies, I-'

The voice of Galatea came from above, making them all jump. 'Harmock, Stokes, you must surrender yourselves. You shall be reconditioned. The others are to die.'

'Straight to the point as ever,' said Stokes. 'What are we going to do?' The door was taking the force of the Femdroids' weapons, but already a blue sheen was starting to cut through the flimsy material.

'K9, how long will that door hold them?' asked Romana 'Estimate four minutes,' he replied after a moment's thought. Romana was already reaching in her pockets. 'How long would it take me to reconnect your laser with this?'

She produced an extendable metallic tool.

'Estimate six minutes,' said K9 sadly. 'I did advise this repair be carried out earlier.'

'It's still worth a try.' She set to work, bringing the end of the tool to bear on the dog's nose. Harmock shook his head. 'I can't see why you've upset them so much. They're normally such normal, level-headed young girls.'

Stokes, with an anxious glance at the door, vaulted around the desk and grabbed him by the collar. 'Listen, you oaf, isn't there a back way out? This is a politician's residence - there's got to be.'

Harmock thought and pointed to the panel located under his desk. He had never really thought about it before. 'There's that service hatch. But it doesn't go anywhere.'

'And where does it go?' Stokes demanded.

'I don't know,' Harmock burbled. 'I've never looked.'

'But down, eh?' Stokes rubbed his hands together. 'Right.' He crawled over to the hatch and fiddled with the catches. It opened with a creak, and Stokes swung his leg over into the s.p.a.ce revealed, which was just large enough for him to escape through. 'Romana,' he called, 'I'm -' The door sparkled and cracked. 'Oh, there's no time to waste. Goodbye.' Intent on her work she didn't even look up. 'Goodbye, Harmock.' He threw his other leg through and started to descend.

'I can't imagine what you hope to achieve, Stokes,' Harmock called after him. 'If you'd only stay up here we could sit down and talk things out.

Galatea is a very reasonable woman, you know, and this is a very beautiful place...'

'Quickly, Mistress,' chirped K9. 'The door will not hold.'

'I'm going as fast as I can.' Romana had opened the small nostril that contained K9's laser and was welding together some of the components inside.

'Suggest you crosshatch the light refractor to the rationic synference,' said K9 urgently.

'I am,' she snapped.

The door buckled and flying blue sparks showered them. 'Hurry,' said K9.

'I am,' Romana snapped again.

Liris stood in the corridor outside, watching as the Killers sliced through the door of the Premier's study. She turned to Galatea. 'This was never part of the Creators' program, Galatea.' She could feel nausea welling inside her, a sure sign her purpose was being perverted. 'Is the scenario so important?'

'Nothing is more important,' said Galatea.

'Then what,' asked Liris, 'is this higher power to which you refer?'

'Keep to your place, Liris,' said Galatea. She smiled. 'Ah, the door is weakening.'

The door gave way with a final splintering crack that made Harmock cover his ears. Its two halves came cras.h.i.+ng down, revealing a lot of blue smoke and the two poised Killer Femdroids. 'They're coming though,' he yelled, still uncertain where his allegiance should lie.

Romana stood and put away her repair tool. 'K9?'

'Defensive capability restored, Mistress,' he said. 'I am ready to retaliate.

Suggest you take cover.'

Romana sprinted behind the desk and pulled Harmock down with her. She looked around, confused. 'Where's Stokes?'

Harmock pointed to the open inspection hatch. 'The coward went down there.'

The smoke was now clear. The Killers advanced, stepping over the jagged outline of the hole they had made.

K9 trundled forward. 'Surrender. My marksmans.h.i.+p and firepower are superior.'

They ignored him and raised their weapons to fire.

The Web of Death was made of a sticky grey substance that tingled strangely around the Doctor's neck, wrists and ankles when they were forced through it. It was suspended like a wall hanging on one wall of a ceremonially ornamented chamber, was rectangular in shape, and was fastened by metal spikes at its four comers.

The Doctor watched as, to a slow, martial drumbeat, General Jafrid, Dekza and a couple of other officers shuffled in and took their positions below him.

'This is actually quite comfy,' he told them.

'In eleven hours you will not think so, Doctor,' said Jafrid. 'In eleven hours your screams will resound about this chamber.'

'Haven't you got a war to go to?'

'Every one of my men is an expert. Already we have destroyed half of your puny parasite troopers.'

The Doctor concealed his anger and irritation by rubbing his nose with his elbow. 'Excuse me. There, that's better. Sorry, you were saying?'

'We are winning this war, Doctor. You were foolish to rouse us.

The Doctor looked him straight in the eye. 'Your heart's not really in it, though, is it, Jafrid?'

Jafrid reared up. 'What?'

'You like the humans. They are your friends. You wish this would all stop.

And it can, believe me. Continue along this path and you'll be giving your lives for nothing.'

'Silence!'

The Doctor went on, talking for his life. 'This planet is no more than an hors d'oeuvre. A cosmic breadstick. The creatures that are coming here want you dead, Jafrid. All those bodies out there in the mud are going to get eaten. You're playing right into the hands of the flies.'

'The what?'

'The flies,' the Doctor said urgently. 'Don't you remember how they used to buzz about poor Seskwa?'

Jafrid snarled. 'You insult my intelligence, Doctor. Dekza, take the strain.'

Dekza crossed to an illuminated panel and tweaked a small control.

Immediately the Doctor felt a slight tension as the Web's strands tightened.

Stokes was guided as if by divine providence to the dome's control room.

The inspection tunnel ended in a similar panel to the one in Harmock's office, which sprang open easily to reveal a small room packed with equipment he didn't like the look of.

He was certain he'd been here before - there was a vaguely familiar look to some of the consoles and gadgets littered about.

He crossed the room and shuddered as he pa.s.sed a row of deactivated Femdroids, their beautiful faces wide-eyed but sightless, their shapely figures coc.o.o.ned in individual berths. The facing wall was taken up by a huge screen on which Harmock's office was displayed. He saw Harmock and Romana crouched behind the desk, with K9 out front blasting at the Femdroids.

In front of the screen was a large control board that winked with myriad switches and dials. At its centre was a small slot. 'There we are. This'll slow things down a bit.'

He inserted the deactivator key. It was accepted, and a small keyboard flipped up from an adjacent panel. It was covered in mathematical notation.

'Oh G.o.d, this could take hours.' Stokes was preparing to punch blindly at the keys until he found the correct combination, when an idea struck him.

He, delved in his pocket and pulled out a hammer.

'Well', he reflected, remembering a promise made centuries ago, 'the man did say it would come in useful.'