Doctor Who_ The Art Of Destruction Part 15

'You think I am stupid?' roared the Wurm.

'Yes! Because which bit don't you understand? Lower that gun! Lower that gun! ' '

'You were warned, biped.'141.

With an electric whine, Korr powered up his weapon. The Doctor took a deep breath and drew back his arm, ready to hurl the phial.

And then the doors of the lab blew open with the force of a ma.s.sive explosion an explosion that had gone off inside inside. Korr gave a retching, gurgling screech as gla.s.s and brick and metal spat out from the heart of the explosion, tearing great chunks from his body. Black smoke belched out a moment later, hiding the gore from view.

'Fynn!' the Doctor shouted. He shoved the phial in his pocket, picking his way through the debris and the thick, oily smog into the ruined laboratory.

Most of the ceiling had fallen in and the only light was from a single flickering fluorescent. He looked about frantically then discerned Director Fynn's head and upper body protruding from beneath a broken bench half-buried under rubble.

'Doctor?' Fynn said very calmly. 'Would you come here?'

A moment later the Doctor was crouched beside him. 'You threw the phial.' He saw the blood trickling from the man's mouth, saw his eyes slowly glazing. 'That was brave of you.'

'If that thing had fired, the serum. . . ' Fynn murmured. 'For death to have meaning, life must have it too.' He pointed feebly to something. The lead box was open and on its side. A twisted, misshapen figure lay within, frosted with concrete dust, wings tightly furled.

'h.e.l.lo, Tolstoy,' whispered the Doctor.

'The serum works. Changed the bat back to normal. But, like you said, the damage to the system caused by the mutation was too severe. . . ' Fynn coughed, and fresh blood poured down his chin. The Doctor tried to take his hand, but Fynn was already clutching something.

'Find her before she changes too.' He pressed it into the Doctor's hand. The datagive. 'Serum's scanned and ready to administer. Three or four doses, I think.' He gripped the Doctor's fingers. 'It had better work. It had better be worth this.'

The Doctor nodded. 'It'll work.'142.

'Only, I've got to save the world,' Fynn whispered, closing his eyes.

'You know what?' the Doctor murmured. 'You might have done just that.'

Fynn smiled and nodded, s.h.i.+fted in the rubble like a child in bed settling down to peaceful sleep. Then he was gone. The Doctor gently patted Fynn's hand, and heard a quiet scuffling noise beside him. A glowing point of light was s.h.i.+fting through the cement dust. Adiel's necklace had been crushed by the rubble and the magma traces, freed from the shattered crystals, were moving towards him.

The Doctor stared down at the datagive. It was time to test the solution on himself. 'Turning my blood into mushroom soup. Should make me a fun guy to be with. . . '

He pressed the device to his arm and hit the transmit switch. A sharp coldness tangled through his veins, spreading up his arm. Then he reached out and touched the glowing speck.

At once he gasped as a burning heat bit into his fingertips. More specks of gold appeared, streaking across the dusty floor, p.r.i.c.king the skin of his other hand.

The Doctor closed his eyes, as a wave of dizziness and nausea pa.s.sed through him, as sweat started streaming from his pores. The chemical reaction was kicking in, sweeping through his bloodstream, encasing every cell. It was as if his whole body was suffocating from the inside. And at the same time, the magma stuff was singeing its way through his skin, confused after so long in isolation, a few pathetic specks still trying to take control. He placed his fingers to his temples, focused on the mad rhythm being beaten out by his racing hearts, willed himself to cling on to consciousness.

Then suddenly his eyes were burning. He cried out in pain, scuttled away from Fynn's body, blind, crawling over rock and gla.s.s. When his eyes opened, he saw his dusty reflection, and the gleaming gold around his dark, watering eyes, snaking away through the veins in his face. He closed his eyes and saw crimson shadows, s.h.i.+fting like smoke, felt other thoughts behind his own. 143 The cloned cell walls had built themselves up around his own, strengthening them in time he should be able to shrug off the magma effect, just as the fungus had. There was no way of knowing how long before his body chemistry rea.s.serted itself and the cell walls came toppling down. Could he even keep the controlling intelligence at bay for that long?

'Let's find out,' he gasped.

The Doctor shoved the datagive in his pocket, staggered over the debris and ran off down the corridor.

He didn't see the huge, maggoty shape drag itself from its blanket of concrete and dust and come trailing into the ruined lab, sniffing the air, searching. . .

Outside in the muddy morning light, the Doctor made for the vulture hole. That cave had been under heavy guard and Solomon had been absorbed there something marked it out for special attention, and he wanted a bit of that himself.

The fighting round there had been and gone by the look of the charred, smoking bones littered all around. Now it raged close to the main entrance to the western caves. He saw golems moving sluggishly, being driven back. The stench was getting worse as the pitiless sun grew stronger.

The gold around his eyes burned with the determination of the animating force, pulsed with its frustration at the inadequacies of the bodies it had taken. The Doctor knew it sensed his difference. It was desperate to control him, not to relinquish this indigestible blood pulsing in his veins. It would send more of itself, he knew that and he might find himself lost to it.

The Doctor started to climb up the steep crags and foothills. He peered in through the hole in the lava tube's roof. A golden glow was stirring in the thick shadows, pulsing like a heart. Waiting.

'Coming, Rose,' he said softly.

The Doctor dropped through the hole. He didn't fear the impact of bone on stone, or attack from spiders and scorpions. He knew the true Valnaxi guardian would be waiting to break his fall. 144 Sure enough it surged out, enveloped him, pushed inside his nose and scorched down his throat. He didn't even have time to shout out. The burning power was engulfing him. Plating his flesh. Claiming him.145.

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AdielhelpedBaselplaceanotheroftheweird,webbedcanvasesinto the back of the Wurm's transporter. They had loaded up one already when there was no more room, Faltato had pressed a pincer against a discoloured patch on the sh.e.l.l to send it floating away back down the lava tubes.

'Work slower,' said Basel quietly. 'We need to save some strength for escaping.'

'Escaping where?' she mouthed back. Apparently this cavern was the first he and Rose had found, so he knew a little of the lie of the land.

'That thing took the Doctor's magic screwdriver,' Basel hissed. 'It does loads of things like it opens up holes in the walls. We might find another way out, another tunnel. If I could get hold of it. . . '

'Stop plotting,' said Faltato. 'There is nowhere you can go. Nowhere any any of us can go.' of us can go.'

There was a note of self-pity in Faltato's voice that put Adiel more in mind of men than monsters. His pincers had drooped and he looked quite dejected. She took an uncertain step towards him. ' You You can go wherever you want. Can't you?' can go wherever you want. Can't you?'147.

'My s.h.i.+p is moored to an asteroid eighty-seven light years from here,' said Faltato gloomily. 'The Wurms dislike independence in those they sponsor.'

Basel was unmoved. 'Think you're mistaking us for people who give a '

Adiel held up a hand to shush him. 'What's bothering you?' It was weird how quickly you got used to dealing with alien monsters. But then, when they were real-life and real close in your face, it wasn't like you had much choice other than to deal with them. 'You think something's wrong, don't you?'

'These artworks. . . I didn't pay them enough heed before.' Faltato shook his head. 'They should be some of the oldest and most famous of all Valnaxi treasures. But they're not. They are quite ordinary. They all hail from one era. From the middle period of the war.' He shook his pointed head. 'I don't trust this. Any of it.'

And as the next transporter bobbed into view, and as Basel wearily picked up the next painting, Adiel saw Faltato retreat a little way away, a furtive look in his many eyes.

King Ottak watched the loaded transporter hover silently into the cargo hold.

'Treasure,' he sneered. To him it was filthy, worthless stuff, abstract and angular, proof of the absolute weakness and vanity of the Valnaxi. The fools had devoted their lives to their art. Well, he had devoted his to destroying that art, in all its forms.

As usual, he would scatter the pieces to the Five Ends of Empire for the ritual burning and breaking. Only this time the crowds would gather from light years around on the host planet to watch him personally destroy the greatest of all Valnaxi treasures, one after another. The Lana Venus Lana Venus. . . that oh-so-celebrated holy statue in the shape of the Mother Valnaxi. . . The Flight of the Valwing The Flight of the Valwing, said to be one of the finest paintings in the cosmos. He would spend days slowly desecrating them, the endless cheers of his people sweet in his sensors.

'Treasure,' he sneered again, louder this time.

More and more these days, in his more reflective moments, Ottak 148 had the niggling feeling that there was something he was missing, something that was going over his head. He peered through his electronically heightened senses at the stuff spilling out from the nearest transporter. He coiled his tail around the figure of a bird and raised it up.

'What secrets do you hold?' Ottak hissed. Then he flexed his muscles and crushed it to dust. 'None. None at all.'

A vibration in the earth beneath him alerted him to someone coming. He turned expectantly and suddenly a ghostly white head pushed upwards.

It was Korr, burrowing free of the sucking soil. Half of his body had been torn away, trailing ligaments and implants.

'I tried to contact you, sire,' Korr wheezed, 'but the Valnaxi interference prevented me. Had to burrow here. . . '

With a low, angry hiss, Ottak swiped at another statue, decapitated a winged figure. 'What happened, Korr?'

'I have located the memory wafers,' he said, spitting them out of his mouth-skin. 'The bipeds betrayed us '

'but their machinery is sound,' p.r.o.nounced Ottak. 'You have done well, Korr. We shall map out the warren and raze all defences, destroy its central systems, empty its treasures and crush them underbelly in the streets of every planet.'

'Their greatest legacy will be lost for all time. . . ' Korr wagged his body-stump from side to side in antic.i.p.ation. 'My injuries do not trouble me, sire. I wish to fight on.'

'That wish is granted, Korr,' said Ottak without hesitation. 'The soil of this world has been enriched with biped blood and Valnaxi ashes, and we shall taste both in our bodies. We shall battle on and tear the heart from this Valnaxi h.e.l.lhole. Then we shall ingest it! Then we shall regurgitate it and ingest it again!'

Korr nodded eagerly. Ottak left him there in his own pooling filth and headed for the command mound to fix the biped's machine before fixing the Valnaxi defences for good.

149.

The Doctor wasn't sure how much time pa.s.sed in the shadows and b.l.o.o.d.y backwaters of his mind. But he was dimly aware of his body rising up, moving like a sleepwalker, through the split at the back of the cave, into an empty cavern, trudging through ash. The darkness should have been absolute, but a golden gleam seemed to be lighting his way.

It was coming from his skin. The realisation shocked him into full wakefulness and he put his fingers to his face. It felt cold and hard. His body had begun to turn golem, and his mind was heading the same way.

He had to hold on.

The Doctor pinched his cheek it was pliable, but dead. He licked his icy golden finger but couldn't taste anything.

'Such a cold finger,' he sang mournfully, the sound soon swallowed up by smoke and shadow. Where was the controlling force? He had to reach Rose before. . . before. . .

'This skin is so not my colour, by the way,' he complained noisily, trying to wake himself up as much as anyone else. 'I mean, s.p.a.ce City in carnival time it'd go down a storm, but twenty-second-century Africa, come on! Underneath a volcano?' He gave a sharp intake of golden breath, slapped his forehead, felt nothing. ' Underneath Underneath a volcano! How can I have been such a div!' a volcano! How can I have been such a div!'

The dataget scans were taken from Solomon's jeep; they only showed a cross-section through the volcano. They didn't show what was hiding underneath it. And even if he could point the DG down at the ground right now, it only had a range of a kilometre or so. There was as much as forty forty kilometres of crust down there before you reached the mantle. . . kilometres of crust down there before you reached the mantle. . .

'And that's where you're hiding, isn't it?' he yelled. 'Deep, deep in the ground, close to the magma that feeds you, and out of the range of any scanning equipment minding your store of treasures. But how do I reach you, then, eh? Since this cave was so well guarded, I'm thinking maybe there's a secret pa.s.sage, a short cut, a teleport. Am I right? Oooh, I bet I'm right.' He wandered around in the dark briefly 150 before losing patience. 'Well? Am I coming to you?' he yelled, 'or are you coming to me?'

The next second, smoky pillars of light, dull as a November dawn, swam faintly into his vision, appeared in front of him. He took a step towards them and they s.h.i.+fted backwards. As he followed after them he felt a tingle like a current through his plated skin.

'Teleport,' he said, grinning to himself. 'I've still got it. . . '

His surroundings were s.h.i.+fting, growing lighter, brighter. Now suddenly he was in a huge circular s.p.a.ce, a giant chimney of flame-red rock stretching upwards into blackness. Four jagged holes were cut at equal intervals into the sides of the natural arena, doorways of some kind but too dark for him to see what lay beyond. He was standing on a cus.h.i.+on of air, and beneath him molten lava glubbed and bubbled with powder-flash brightness. He wondered if it was his golem sh.e.l.l protecting him from the heat, or if that was down to the invisible barrier.

Then the glowing shape of the magmaform guardian emerged from the black doorway facing him.

'It's you, is it?' said the Doctor. 'I want to speak to the organ grinder, not his morikey.' The guardian rolled a little closer, and he looked around warily. 'Come on. Where are your mates, then?'

The guardian came to a stop and the Doctor felt a twitch in his mind. 'Oh. . .

No mates. It's just you, isn't it? Must be a whole network of teleportals around so you can check up on the place you just keep popping up here and there, subdividing to make it seem like there's loads of you. . . Ow!'

The Doctor tailed off as a sibilant whisper swirled through his head like smoke. Don't resist us. By blocking our control you're upsetting the balance of the defence network. We cannot manipulate our servants. We cannot resist our enemies. Don't resist us. By blocking our control you're upsetting the balance of the defence network. We cannot manipulate our servants. We cannot resist our enemies.

'Then you'd better give me what I want right now,' snapped the Doctor out loud. 'Rose Tyler.' He took a threatening step towards the magma form. 'You can't harm me any more but the Wurms can harm you, and I'll let them. I don't know why you took her, but I want her back. Now.'151.

The guardian didn't move.

'Who's in charge here!' the Doctor hollered.

A curtain of smoke seemed to gust away from that same dark doorway as two s.h.i.+ny golden figures shambled into the arena. Misshapen statues of a man and a girl.

'Oh, G.o.d,' the Doctor whispered.

The male figure was clearly all that was left of Solomon Nabarr. But it was the sight of the girl that had made the Doctor's hearts stop dead. Her face was a distorted mask, as if the features had formed on a custard skin and been poked about by a child's finger. One cheek, one eye bulged, while the other side seemed to melt down into the fat Schwarzenegger neck. The body was hunched and simian. One arm flapped feebly, clearly broken in two places, while the other was swollen like the misshapen legs. She stood facing him, her distorted features fixed in reproach.

'Rose,' he croaked. 'Oh, Rose, I'm so sorry. I was too late. . . '152.

[image]

KingOttakstartedatthesuddensoundofclearcommunication. The s.h.i.+p's scanners burst into full function, scattering the static. In its place came pin-sharp images of the battlefield, courtesy of the camflies, their transmissions magically interference-free. The pictures showed the Valnaxi guardians dropping from the sky, struggling feebly in the ashy murk of the ground. The cams zoomed in eagerly on Ottak's troops blasting the twisted creatures to bits with lasers or cannon-fire, or surging eagerly through the mire towards the doorway to the Valnaxi vaults.

The tech-bugs brought the biped's device to him. They had integrated Korr's memory wafers and powered up the machine. Once the camflies had circled the volcano, the layout of the vaults would become clear and a strategy bold and precise would be arrived at. Now Ottak could broadcast his commands over the s.h.i.+p's loudspeakers and be heard. 'Squad One, secure the bipeds' entrance to the easterly tunnels. Squad Two, secure the gateway to the western network. All other units, destroy your enemies where they lie.' He crept over to the internal comms. 'Korr, ready yourself.' He puffed up his soily, segmented chest. 'Soon I will fire the final shots in this long war. The last Valnaxi outpost will stand crushed and its host planet 153 vaporised. It will be soon, Korr.' Ottak smiled inside as he watched his indomitable troops do his work. 'Very soon.'

The Doctor stumbled towards the figures. 'Oh no. Come on. . . no way,' he said, words almost failing him for once. 'I. . . Solomon, I'm so sorry. . . But Rose Rose. . . '

The baleful figures stood watching him.

'Why did you do this?' he shouted up into the rocky arena. 'If they're not fighting Wurms for you up above, why did you need to do this to them down here?'

' Stop fighting us, Stop fighting us, ' came the voice. ' ' came the voice. ' There's nothing worth fighting for now. You have lost her. You have lost Rose Tyler. There's nothing worth fighting for now. You have lost her. You have lost Rose Tyler. ' '

'At least set her body free,' he pleaded. 'Let her be as she was.'

' Stop fighting us and we will. We promise. Stop fighting us and we will. We promise. ' '

The Doctor lowered his head. Then he c.o.c.ked it to one side. 'We? Hang about. Who's we?' He spun all around. 'Who am I talking to?'

' There is little time. The Wurms will destroy us and this world you care for. We must defeat them. Surrender yourself to us or we cannot fight. There is little time. The Wurms will destroy us and this world you care for. We must defeat them. Surrender yourself to us or we cannot fight. ' '

'Stuff that! I'll never surrender!' He looked at the Rose golem, suddenly wary. 'I don't trust this!' He pivoted on one golden foot, shouting into the shadows. 'You're trying to pull a fast one. Who are you?'

Suddenly Rose's gleaming skin turned brittle, tore away in flakes of gold. Veins and arteries rose up in her arm, darkened into cracks, split open.

The Doctor stared in alarm then Solomon hurled one ma.s.sive golden fist into his chest. Literally. It came away at his wrist as he threw the punch. The Doctor went down in a hail of golden shards as the fist shattered.

He stared up as Rose's lumpy face broke open like a sh.e.l.l. Or a chrysalis.

Because there was another face behind the crumbling mask. Like an artist's impression of Rose, not quite enough detail, a sketch somehow brought to life. The dead husk of the body peeled away to reveal 154 the slim, muscular figure underneath. It was not hard and golden, nor glowing like magma; the dark-honey flesh looked baby-smooth and flawless, no human complexion could compare. A similar stylised figure was stepping out of the remains of Solomon's golem, but the Doctor's eyes were riveted to the girl and the way she looked at him at once both so familiar and so strange.

'Rose?' the Doctor whispered.

'No,' said a low, soft voice. 'Not Rose. Rose Tyler is only the template.'