Doctor Who_ Underworld Part 7

Leela drew her knife, and began following the trail. She turned the corner, caught sight of a crouching figure and sprang, bearing her opponent to the floor. They struggled, but Leela soon realised her opponent was putting up only the feeblest resistance. Pinning him down with one hand she held her knife to his throat. 'Surrender or die!'

'No... no...' croaked a feeble voice.

The Doctor came running up. 'Get off him, Leela, you're terrifying the poor fellow!'

'I am?' Leela released her victim and got up. He didn't seem much of a foe when you got a good look at him. A skinny, undersized youth dressed in tattered rags, with an ugly wound in his right thigh.

'He's wounded, poor chap,' said the Doctor gently. 'He is the one we saw running away.'

Their captive was still, crouched quivering on the floor, evidently expecting immediate execution. The Doctor put a hand on his thin shoulders and gently eased him to a sitting position against the wall. 'It's all right, old chap, we're your friends.'

The man looked wonderingly at the Doctor, then cowered back at the sight of Leela standing over him, knife in hand.

The Doctor said, 'She won't hurt you. She's a friend, too. Her name is Leela.'

'She is strong and fierce,' muttered the man. 'Like the Guards.'

The Doctor was examining the wound on the man's leg.

'It is bad?' asked Leela.

'Bad enough. Fetch me the medikit from the command deck, will you, Leela? White box with a red circle on it, in a wall bracket behind the main control console.'

Leela hurried off muttering, 'White box with red circle.

White box with red circle.'

The Doctor sat on his heels next to the wounded man.

'What's your name?'

'Idas.'

'h.e.l.lo, Idas. I'm the Doctor. Are you frightened?'

Idas nodded silently.

'Don't be,' said the Doctor gently. 'I told you-we're friends.'

Meanwhile the Minyan party had been marching steadily along the seemingly endless tunnel. They rounded a bend and found themselves at a junction point where the tunnel divided.

The party came to a halt. 'These tunnels could stretch on for miles,' said Jackson wearily, 'The P7E must be at the end of one of them-but which?'

'We could split up, sir,' suggested Orfe. 'Form two parties, take one tunnel each.'

'Too dangerous. What if we run into trouble? We're few enough as it is.' Jackson thought for a moment. Herrick was the boldest and most resourceful of the little party, though his natural truculence might lead him into trouble.

'Herrick, go and scout down the left-hand tunnel. Look out for any signs of life. If you find anything promising, come back and let us know. If you run into trouble, come back even quicker. And don't get lost!'

Herrick grinned confidently, pleased to be chosen for the mission. 'Don't worry, sir, I've got the markers.' He took an adhesive metal disc from a belt pouch and slapped it on the rocks where the tunnel divided. s.h.i.+eld gun held before him, he moved warily down the tunnel.

Jackson turned to the others. 'Tala, Orfe, you'd better get some rest. Break out the emergency rations.'

All three produced food-concentrate tablets from their belts and found seats on the rubble. They sat resting, looking round uneasily, waiting for Herrick to return.

Herrick marched down the tunnel with his usual cheerful confidence. Before very long, he came to another junction.

He stuck on a marker, chose left at random, and went on.

He found another junction and yet another. This whole area seemed honey-combed. Herrick decided the inhabitants of this strange underworld must have been mining, following some particular mineral seam as it twisted and turned through the rock. He made yet another left turn and found he was looking at one of his own markers. He had been going round in a circle.

He turned to retrace his steps-and found himself facing a hooded figure with a blaster.

A harsh voice ordered, 'Stop, Trog, or I'll fire!'

Herrick kept moving. 'Who the blazes are you?'

'Stop, Trog!'

'Don't you Trog me,' said Herrick indignantly. He took another step forward.

The hooded figure raised its weapon and fired.

Chapter Eight.

The Smoke Herrick brought up his own weapon at the same moment, but not to fire it. He simply held the s.h.i.+eld gun in front of him. The Guard's own maser beam was reflected straight back on him, killing him instantly.

Herrick gave a grunt of satisfaction, moved forward and picked up the man's gun, examining it curiously. To his astonishment a tinny voice came from the b.u.t.t.

'Guard Klimt! Guard Klimt! Clear Tunnel Nine Complex, clear Tunnel Nine Complex. It is being closed for fumigation. Guard Klimt, come in please!'

Herrick found the communicator b.u.t.ton and pressed it.

'Guard Klimt has just retired-suddenly!'

There was a pause and the astonished voice said, 'Who is that? Identify yourself.'

'This is Trog Herrick here! Who are you?'

In the security area Tarn looked up at Rask, who had just returned from his unsuccessful hunt for Idas. 'He says he's a Trog-and he's armed. Close down Complex Nine for fumigation-now!'

Rask moved to a nearby console and began operating controls, 'Complex Nine closing down.'

Tarn watched him, worried. Armed, organised revolt by the Trogs was the one thing he and his kind had always feared. So far it had never happened. There had only been the occasional solitary rebel, like Idmon, now a prisoner awaiting sacrifice.

Fumigation was one of the Guards' main weapons in keeping the Trogs under control. Any of the tunnels could be closed off by steel shutters and flooded with gas from a series of vents in the walls. The ostensible purpose was to keep the tunnels free of disease. In reality, fumigation was a way of reminding any potential troublemakers that their lives were in the hands of the Guards.

Tarn remembered the cheerful, arrogant voice that had come over the communicator. 'That was no Trog! A Trog wouldn't dare attack a Guard and take his gun-and as for being insolent over the communicator...'

Rask stared thoughtfully at the winking lights on the electronic map. 'Well, the two I saw in the tunnels were no Trogs.'

'Aliens?'

'We still don't know what caused that Skyfall.'

Tarn came to join him at the map. Light-bars were appearing across Tunnel Nine, showing that the steel shutters were sliding into place. Tarn smiled. 'Well, we'll know soon, won't we-when we find the bodies.'

Herrick was hurrying down the side tunnels, following his markers to find his way back to the others. To his vast relief he saw them in the distance standing at the junction to the main tunnel. 'Captain!'

Jackson peered down the tunnel. 'Herrick? Are you all right? I thought I heard a blaster.'

Herrick began running towards him. 'Yes, I'm fine. I-'

A steel shutter slammed across the tunnel in front of him.

'Nine close-down completed,' reported Rask.

Tarn studied the map for a moment. 'Fumigate the whole of Complex Nine.'

'It's a big area,' warned Rask. 'The gas will take quite some time to build up to effective levels.'

'That doesn't matter. We're in no hurry-are we?'

Rask's hand reached for a main control lever. 'Very well,' he said formally. 'Fumigating-now!'

Jackson gave the shutter an angry kick, and stepped back. 'Herrick, stand clear,' he yelled. He turned to Tala and Orfe. 'All right, blast it!'

They raised their s.h.i.+eld guns and the shutter disappeared in an explosion of smoke and flame. A few moments later, Herrick appeared.

'Did you find it?' shouted Jackson. 'Did you find the P7E?'

'No, sir. It's just a sort of maze in there-all I found was some kind of Guard. He tried to kill me with this!' Herrick held out the dead Guard's weapon.

'Who was he?'

'No idea, sir. There's a communicator built into that thing. It called him Guard Klimt.'

Jackson took the gun and examined it. 'Minyan design.

Must have been looted from the P7E.'

'What do we do now, sir?' asked Tala.

'Go on with the Quest, of course.'

As they moved off down the other branch of the tunnel, Orfe paused. 'I thought I heard something, sir. A kind of hissing...'

Tala pointed. 'Look, Captain!'

Swirls of vapour were drifting down the tunnel towards them.

Leela was looking on while the Doctor cleaned the wound on Idas's leg. 'That's better. It shouldn't take long now.'

'Are you a Seer?'

'A what? No, I'm the Doctor. Soon be finished, old chap.' The Doctor rummaged in the medikit and produced a couple of aerosol sprays. He used the first to sterilise the wound, and the second to spray a fine layer of plasti-skin over the area. 'Leela, just go and unplug K9 for me, will you?'

'I've just been all the way up to the command deck for your medikit box.'

'Linked up like that, K9's supervising the working of the whole s.h.i.+p.' Suddenly the lights returned to their normal brightness. The Doctor looked up. 'You see? The s.h.i.+p's recharging its energy-banks. It can look after itself now. Tell K9 to concentrate on his own recharging, I shall need him soon.'

'All right, Doctor, I'll go and unplug K9,' said Leela.

She hurried away.

The Doctor sprayed a final layer of plasti-skin on Idas's wound. Idas winced. 'Stings, does it?' said the Doctor cheerfully. 'That's good, shows it's working!'

Idas straightened his leg. There was very little sign of the wound by now, and it had almost stopped hurting. 'Are you a Seer?' he asked again.

'No, Idas, just a traveller.'

'Where from? Where do you come from?'

'From the sky!'

'You lie!' said Idas fiercely. 'There is nothing but chaos above the sky.'

'Oh, very well then, from the stars.'

Idas stared at him in awe. 'My father talked about the stars. There is an old prophecy among the slaves, handed on for generations. It says that one day G.o.ds will come from the stars to set us free. Are you a G.o.d?'