Doctor Who_ The Eleventh Tiger Part 37

'Conquering the world, I think. It's an invasion.'

For hundreds of yards around the hill the ground was rippling and flexing. The surface of the fields pulsed upwards like boiling water in a pot. Suddenly, one of the pulses burst, a bronze blade thrusting up into the air. Next to it, a fist punched its way out of the ground. Then another, and a spear, and another fist.

Impa.s.sive, the frozen faces of the long dead kissed the air for the first time in centuries. Warriors whose torsos were sculpted into ancient armour flexed their moulded fists, and pulled themselves free of the earth.

The Eight Thousand were going to war.

Barbara might be terrified, but she still had the heart and soul of a historian who loved the products of ancient civilisations with a pa.s.sion that few couples could ever hope to match in their love for each other.

It wasn't just her job, or what she did, it was who she was.

Qin's burial chamber simply took her breath away. She no longer felt like a prisoner, or a sacrifice, or even an audience for the man's insane ramblings. She was a female Howard Carter, experiencing the splendours of a forgotten age.

The floor was a sculpted map of China, skilfully and exquisitely formed by the master craftsmen of the third century BC. Every mountain range was exactly modelled in miniature, every city represented by a model palace or paG.o.da. Rivers flowed through the valleys and channels of the miniature Middle Kingdom, but they weren't water.

Mercury gleamed in the river beds, circulating through the burial chamber like blood through the chambers of the heart.

In the exact centre of the landscape, representing Chang'an itself, stood a large sarcophagus. It was carved with the full life-story of the First Emperor - his official version, of course - and inside it a figure encrusted in jade lay staring up at the ceiling.

Barbara knew who was wrapped in that precious shroud, and so did her captor. He was staring at it like a man possessed. The thought insinuated itself into her head before she could stop it.

Apart from the ubiquitous and ever-burning oil lamps, tended by a robot-like terracotta warrior, the chamber was illuminated by a faint column of light that beamed down from the ceiling to the sarcophagus. It had been barely noticeable at first, but was brightening as the minutes went past. Tiny flickers of electric arcs had broken off from it, slithering into the mercury rivers and away to parts unknown.

Barbara didn't know what it was, but was sure it must be something evil. She also didn't know what Qin wanted to do with her and it, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know, either.

Qin suddenly spread his hands wide. 'Be pleased, woman, and welcome your reunion with your friend.'

Barbara was taken by surprise, but turned to the half-hidden doorway hoping against hope that it was Ian.

It was the next best thing, and she felt a twinge of guilt at the slight sinking of her heart when she saw the Doctor. He was escorted by another terracotta warrior, and Gao, as well as half a dozen human guards. The humans looked warily at the warriors, which had never spoken in all the time Barbara had been guarded by them.

In a way Qin was glad of the Doctor's arrival. He had heard so much about this man, and knew he was a threat, but it was always courteous to see your enemy in person before his execution.

'Welcome, Doctor.'

'I wish I could say it was a pleasure, Abbot, or whatever you're calling yourself today.'

'You may call me Emperor Qin.'

'I shall most certainly do no such thing!'

'You will, Doctor, or your friend will die.'

The Doctor fell silent. This mollified Qin slightly - it was only natural that such a worthy opponent would frustrate him in this way. It was something Qin could test himself against, to see whether he could resist the urge to rise to the Doctor's bait. He knew he could, because he was emperor of a country he loved with all his heart. His country and his people were his muse and motivation, and he would not let them down by allowing himself to be distracted by the Doctor.

'That's better,' he said. 'It is fitting that someone of your stature should witness my apotheosis.'

The Doctor snorted. 'I can a.s.sure you that is not what is about to happen.'

'No? Do you think you can stop me?'

'It is not you I wish to stop.'

This gave Qin pause. He was in control here. Everything had gone according to his design so that he might rule China and give its people his love for eternity. The loyal people.

Others, undeserving of his love, would die. 'There's no-one elsewhere to stop.'

'But there is,' the Doctor said. 'A being beyond your imagination, which sits in your mind like the captain of a s.h.i.+p.'

'I am my own ruler, Doctor.'

'You are not, sir!' the Doctor replied, his voice becoming more impa.s.sioned.

'I am the First Emperor! I am Qin s.h.i.+ Huang -'

'The First Emperor died two thousand years ago!' the Doctor insisted.

'I cheated death, Doctor. I fled the body until I could take possession of a new one. And I shall do so again and again, as many times as it takes.'

'Fled the body?' the Doctor echoed. 'Fled the body? And how, pray, did you do that?'

Qin hesitated. He knew this was what he had done - he remembered planning it, seeking out the sorcerers who could instruct him - but he could remember none of the details.

'Exactly,' the Doctor snapped. 'Qin s.h.i.+ Huangdi died of obesity and heavy-metal poisoning from eating jade and mercury, and was carried around in a wagon of fish for weeks before being buried. You are nothing more than a copy of some of his memories, in a personality matrix. You are an executable application engram, not the spirit of a deceased ruler.'

Qin desperately wanted to think of a worthy retort, but couldn't. Suddenly, he realised he could no longer hear the Doctor's words. He felt a plummeting sensation in his gut, but that, too, faded quickly, along with his sight. Then there was nothing.

The abbot's body stiffened and his eyes began to glow. Light seeped from his ears and nostrils, and escaped from between his lips when he spoke. 'The being that was Qin is of no more use to us, Traveller. This planet is part of our domain now.'

5.

Logan and Fei-Hung had somehow lost the soldiers in the maze of tunnels and corridors. If Fei-Hung hadn't known better he would have sworn the corridors were calmly rearranging themselves, ensnaring the intruders in a spider's web. The friezes would be confusing enough, concealing doors and corners, but the way they were taking on a new life of their own, brightening and sharpening to a degree of realism that was utterly disturbing, made it ten times worse.

Fei-Hung felt, rather than heard, the click from under the slab. He immediately dropped, swinging out a foot to sweep Logan's legs out from under him. Logan fell down with a yell and a crossbow bolt flashed over the top of his head, missing it by a couple of inches and burying itself in the wall at what would have been about liver height if he'd been standing.

Fei-Hung stayed down, listening out for any more sounds that might indicate danger. Logan's eyes darted around everywhere, bulging.

'I say, do you think it safe to get up?'

'I don't think anything in this place is safe,' Fei-Hung told him honestly. 'But I don't want to live the rest of my life on this floor.' He rose cautiously. 'We should move more carefully. There may be other traps.'

Logan broke open his revolver and tipped out the empty cartridges. 'I think you're right, there.'

'The traps are a good sign. They suggest we are near something worth keeping people away from.'

He led Logan round the next corner, and noticed a flagstone that was raised perhaps a tenth of an inch above its neighbours. 'Don't step on that one.'

Logan merely swallowed.

Beyond the suspect flagstone was a series of doorways. The first led to a room full of the skeletons. The second was a floorless trap with spikes in a pit. The third contained old coins. Finally, the fourth was a more general store room.

Fei-Hung spied a collection of scrolls heaped in a corner.

He picked one up, looking for something useful. Writing would never have been invented if it didn't have benefits, and even the First Emperor had thought a few books worthy of keeping.

The scroll was large, perhaps two feet long, and he only unrolled a few inches. It was a set of engineering plans depicting the counterweight system used to open and close the mausoleum's main doorways. In and of itself it was useless, but it was enough to tell him that his instincts weren't playing him false. There were many scrolls here, and they were presumably all records of different information.

He stepped back out of the room, carefully avoiding the trip for the crossbow trap that had almost deprived Miss Law of her wedded bliss, and called quietly to Captain Logan.

'What is it, lad?' the Englishman whispered.

Fei-Hung brandished the scroll. 'Drawings. Engineering plans. There might be another one that shows the geological area and the water table.'

Logan wasted no time; he s.n.a.t.c.hed a handful of scrolls, and started to spread one out on the floor, his eyes bright with excitement.

'Wait,' Fei-Hung said. He quickly sketched the ideograms for 'water' and 'level' on a piece of sc.r.a.p paper. 'Look for these words. That will be the scroll we want.'

'Right you are, sir.'

Logan and Fei-Hung started unrolling scrolls and tossing them aside after glances cut tragically short by the absence of the required symbols.

After a moment, Fei-Hung felt a stab of guilty pride that he had been the one to find the scroll with the symbols. 'Look,'

he said. 'This is it.'

Logan took the scroll and spread it out on the flagstones. 'It certainly looks like a survey showing a water table, though I'm no expert.' He pointed to some writing in heavier, more emphatic strokes. 'What's that?'

'It says, "Avoid disturbance here. Do not dig."' Fei-Hung looked at Logan, sure the Englishman was thinking exactly the same thing as he was. 'That's what we want.'

'We have to get this to Major Chesterton.'

'Then come on!'

Major Chesterton and his group had the misfortune to be followed by the waking terracotta warriors. Whether this was because they recognised his party as the greater threat, or simply because the major and his companions were close to them, Chesterton couldn't say. The group had managed to find its way back to the cavern of tree-like pillars, but the warriors were on its heels.

Rifle and pistol fire cracked and boomed in the cave, every explosion magnified and echoing several times over. Dust and pottery chips sparked from the advancing warriors, leaving scars and pits, but they kept coming. Chesterton had made it clear that Vicki was to be protected at all costs, and his soldiers agreed. G.o.d alone knew what had driven the young lady to come along anyway.

Luckily, few of the warriors had weapons, but as they were bulletproof and had limbs as solid as stone - literally - this didn't make them any less dangerous. Nor did it take long for the soldiers to start running out of ammunition.

Chesterton was out of ammo terrifyingly quickly, and found himself in hand-to-hand combat with one of the warriors.

Worse still, his opponent had a sword. The major barely drew his own sabre in time when it attacked. The warrior was surprisingly fast, and didn't seem to feel the hits he landed on it. It drove him back, further and further until he heard a noise behind him and ducked. A stony fist swept over his head from a second warrior who was coming up behind him.

The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds were hunting in pairs.

The major parried and riposted as best he could, trying not to let the two warriors box him into a corner. Sparks flew when their blades clashed, and small chips of pottery splintered off when Chesterton managed to land a cut on either of them. It was a losing battle, and he knew it. He redoubled his efforts, knowing that he was doing little more than giving them a run for their money. His sabre darted around wildly, blocking their increasingly furious advances, but his muscles were beginning to ache.

Then a ma.s.sive, two-handed swipe from one of the warriors knocked the sabre clear out of his hand, and Chesterton stared death in its impa.s.sive grey face.

In an explosion of dust and potsherds the lead warrior's arm shattered and fell. It turned, and something blurred past Chesterton's eyes to strike it in the face. Its head came off exposing the wooden plugs in its neck that had kept it in place.

Ian pulled the major aside. 'Looks like I was just in time.'

'What the h.e.l.l did you do?'

Ian held up a workman's hammer, perhaps half the size of a sledgehammer. 'I found this in a pile of old tools. They've been doing a lot of work down here. Sharp edges didn't seem to do any good, but I thought that if these things are made of hollow pottery they should be pretty fragile.'

'Use your rifle b.u.t.ts,' Chesterton shouted immediately. The men grasped the idea straight away, and in moments the cave was filled with the sound of smas.h.i.+ng pottery.

Logan had reached the cavern just in time to see Chesterton lose his sword. It was the worst moment of the bearded captain's life. He knew that Vicki could see the look on his face, but his emotion was too true to hide, even from himself.