Doctor Who_ Night Of The Humans Part 14

From inside the box he heard the turning of cogs, a low whirring sound, and then the casket opened. Its panels slid away and fanned out, like the wings of a b.u.t.terfly emerging from its chrysalis.

166.

There, resting in an intricately moulded block of quartz, was the Mymon Key.

'Let me see it!' snapped Slipstream.

Roistering his gun, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the casket from the Doctor's grasp and lifted out the Key, holding it up to the light. It was unfeasibly small: a block of gold the shape of a pebble, in the centre of which was a single aperture. Tuco and Manco were beside him now, staring at the Key in awe.

'Hard to believe, isn't it?' said Slipstream. That something so small could hold so much power.'

'Too much power,' said the Doctor coldly.

'Oh, really, old chap? This, coming from the man who travels in time and s.p.a.ce, interfering with historical events? Bit rich, don't you think?'

'Even its creators realised their mistake,' said the Doctor.

'Why do you think they locked it away?'

'Yes, curious that, Doctor. They locked it away. They didn't destroy it. They locked it in a box that could only be opened by one of their own. Or, indeed, by someone such as yourself.

Somewhat ironic, don't you think? If you hadn't foiled my plans on Belaform, we'd have never met. If we'd never met, I wouldn't have known of your vast knowledge and your legendary command of alien languages. I'd never have thought to reel you in, and none of this would have been possible.

Funny how things turn out, isn't it?'

'And what will you do with it?'

167.

'Oh, what won't I do with it, Doctor? A limitless energy source? Where does one begin? I could start by holding every planet and colony in Sol 1 to ransom. Think of it as a kind of taxation. Ten per cent of net profits on all industries or I turn the sun into a black hole. How does that sound?'

'You're insane...'

'Dear me, Doctor. Insane? Is that the best you have to offer?

I would have thought it takes absolute clarity of mind to think as I do. Now come along... We literally haven't got all day.'

Slipstream pocketed the Mymon Key and drew his gun from its holster, gesturing with it towards the lower end of the cargo hold. With careful, tentative steps the four of them made their way back down the uneven slope of upturned containers, their path barely illuminated by the torch. As their footsteps stirred up clouds of ancient dust, the flying fish swarmed around them, nibbling at the air.

'So, Slipstream...' said the Doctor, 'Did you ever stop to think about why the Gyre is flat?'

'I'm sorry, old chap... What do you mean?'

'Well... This place isn't the only pile of junk in the universe.

But it's the only one that's flat.'

'Hadn't given it much thought, to tell you the truth.

Astrophysics is more your area of expertise.'

'Well, then, maybe you've wondered why the Herald of Nanking crashed here in the first place.'

'Again, Doctor... Such considerations are for 168 academics, not me.'

'Of course. But, you see, places like this - galactic junk piles - they form in perfect locations. Points in the universe where the gravitational forces of all neighbouring stars and planets converge.'

'Yes, Doctor.' Slipstream sighed. 'All very interesting, I'm sure...'

'And the Mymon Key draws its energy from gravitational force.'

'Yes? And?'

'Which would make this the perfect home for the Mymon Key.'

Slipstream clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

'Ever the sentimentalist,' he muttered. 'So you're saying this place is the Mymon Key's home? That this inanimate lump of metal is happy here?'

The Doctor shrugged. 'Yes! he said. 'I suppose lam.'

'Oh, please. Really? Dear oh dear... Of all your arguments so far, Doctor, that must be the weakest. You want me to leave the Mymon Key here so it won't get homesick? You'll have to do better than that.'

The brushed steel casing of the Nan.o.bomb was lit up red with the light from its counter: 00:45:00...

00:44:59...

169.

00:44:58...

With every pa.s.sing second, the room remained silent, but for the single, high-pitched beep. Then, from beyond its door, there came the sound of many footsteps.

The door suddenly shuddered with a tremendous bang, a rounded dent appearing in its surface. Another bang, and another dent, this one more p.r.o.nounced than the last. With the third heavy bang the door flew in on its hinges, slamming back against the wall with a thunderous clang.

The humans stood in the corridor, three of them still holding on to the girder they had used as a battering ram.

Django stepped past them and entered the bomb chamber, his flowing white robes dragging along the floor behind him.

He approached the bomb, his eyes growing wide with wonder, and he sighed with satisfaction, placing his hands on its s.h.i.+ning steel sh.e.l.l. He closed his eyes, and began to laugh.

'We have it!' he said. 'We have the weapon of the Bad.'

He turned to face his men once more, pointing back towards the fixtures that held the bomb in place.

'Break it out! he growled. 'We are taking this back to the city.'

They left the cargo hold and pa.s.sed along a narrow 170 corridor that was tilted downwards, clinging to rusting pipes and decaying vines for balance. Tuco was muttering under his breath.

Tm sorry, Tuco, old chap! said Slipstream. 'You'll have to speak up. I can't hear you.'

'This is sacrilege,' hissed Tuco. 'We have desecrated the Tower of Gobo. You are stealing his treasure.'

'Oh, so it's Gobo's treasure, now, is it? First we have the Doctor telling me it belongs here, and now you're telling me it belongs to a cartoon clown. Well that's just spiffing, isn't it?'

Tuco wheeled around, holding the flaming torch to Slipstream's face.

'You will pay for this when Django finds out. Oh yes...

Tuco will tell Django all about this, and Django will make you pay.'

Slipstream glowered at the human, his eyes growing wider with impatience. They moved on down the tunnel, coming eventually to the vast chamber of the control room, and the cage-like walkway above it.

'Ah!' said Slipstream. 'We're here again. Yes... I think I can remember the way from here.' He turned now to Tuco. 'Sorry, old chap... What was it you were saying, back there? In the tunnel? Something about telling Django about this and Django making me pay?'

'Yes,' said Tuco. 'Django will make you pay.'

171.

'Hmm. Not sure about that.'

With that, Slipstream aimed his gun and fired. The blast slammed into Tuco, flinging him over the edge of the walkway. Seconds later, his body landed in the depths of the control room with a heavy thud.

The Doctor and Manco looked at one another and then Slipstream, both wide-eyed with shock.

'Yes! said Slipstream, smiling malevolently. 'Seems we've come to the end of the road, chaps. You've rather outlived your purpose, I'm afraid. Very handy when we were navigating all those tunnels, but now... ?'

'No, Slipstream,' said the Doctor. 'Don't do this. You've got the Mymon Key. You can just leave. I won't try and stop you.'

Slipstream laughed. 'You're a terrible liar, Doctor,' he said.

'We both know I could fly out of here and wherever I went you'd be waiting for me. No... Consider this my insurance policy.'

Slipstream aimed the gun at the Doctor's face, still grinning. He thumbed a green switch on the side of the blaster and it emitted a shrill squeal that rose in pitch.

'Now I'd like to say this will hurt me more than it'll hurt you, but it won't. It really won't. Goodbye, Doctor.'

His finger curled around the trigger, and he laughed with a brief derisive snort, but then he 172.

froze. His evaporating smile was replaced by a look of utter horror.

'Don't even think about it, Slipstream. Put the gun down.'

Standing behind him, with the barrel of his own gun touching the back of Slipstream's head, was Charlie, with Amy by his side.

'd.a.m.n and blast!' said Slipstream.

He spun around on his heels, ready to fire, but Charlie was quicker, and punched him full force in the face, breaking his nose. Slipstream staggered backwards, dropping his gun.

Acting quickly, the Doctor picked it up from the ground and hurled it out across the control room. The blaster tumbled through the air, spinning end over end. When it hit the ground it fired once, sending a bright green bolt of light ricocheting around the control room. Screens shattered and wall panels exploded, lighting up the vast room with cascading sparks.

Then there was silence.

'Whoops,' said the Doctor. 'Should have thought that one through. Everyone OK? Manco? Amy?'

Manco nodded sheepishly, clearly dazed by everything that had happened in the last thirty seconds.

Amy simply beamed at him, and the Doctor smiled back.

Desperately, Slipstream scrambled to his feet, and was about to make a run for it when Charlie 173.

pinned him up against the railing, aiming the gun at him once more.

'I don't think so, somehow! he said. 'Not this time. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just shoot you. Right now.'

'Er... h.e.l.lo?' said the Doctor, standing at Charlie's side.

'Remember me? We met earlier. Got off on the wrong foot, but I reckon we can put that behind us. Anyway... I think there's been enough death for one day. This man belongs behind bars.

We're taking him with us.'

Still seething with anger, Charlie glowered at the Doctor.

Then he looked at Amy, and the look she gave in return was clearly all it took to persuade him.

'OK,' he said. 'Come on, then. Let's go.'

They left the control room, and made their descent further down into the s.h.i.+p, along the last stretch of corridors that would take them out into the human city.

As they walked side by side, the Doctor turned to Amy.

'So...' he said. 'How are you? Miss me?'

Amy nodded enthusiastically, her eyes dewy with the promise of tears, and then she threw her arms around him with such force that it knocked the air out of his lungs.

The Doctor laughed and parted her back. 'I'll take that as a yes,' he said, then whispered in her 174.

ear: 'I'm so glad you're OK.'

They carried on walking.

'Well, yeah,' said Amy. 'I'm fine. And actually... Seems to me that you were the one who needed rescuing this time.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Back there? You were in quite a lot of trouble. Until me and Charlie turned up, that is.'

'Oh really? Until you and Charlie turned up? So... You and Charlie, eh? Been making friends, have we?'