Doctor Who - Downtime Part 33

Turning her head slightly, the woman whispered, 'Distract them, Brigadier. This is my fault. If I can shut down the mainframe...'

'I'm sure we've met before,' he murmured.

She paused for a moment and then said quickly, 'I doubt it.'

The new bolt of light shot up from the curve of the Earth.

Reaching an alt.i.tude of 67.08 miles, it struck the UNIT NAVSAT 61 in geo-stationary orbit over north-west Europe.

The beam refracted in a dozen new directions across the globe. A dozen new canopies of web began to branch out like giant snowflakes in the upper atmosphere.

The line of Yeti seemed unbreathable, but Crichton's determination had been renewed when Captain Bambera arrived with another platoon. She always kept him on his toes anyway. Given the choice, he thought, he would rather face a herd of stampeding education secretaries than the African officer with battle light in her eyes.

His hopes sank again as he saw fresh Yeti reinforcements striding out of the university buildings.

'Stand by!' he barked at the positioned men.

'I'm not sure about that ATR launcher, sir,' said Bambera.

'You know it has a smart-map facility.'

Crichton glanced across at the open-backed jeep where a corporal had set up the anti-tank rocket-launcher. The squat barrel was embossed with the Bonze steel chrysanthemum logo. A private was standing by, ready to load.

'It also has a manual override,' scowled Crichton. 'Ready when you are, Captain.'

'I'm ready, sir.' Bambera, not long returned from plenty of action on a peacekeeping term in Bosnia, had not lost her appet.i.te for a fight.

'Carry on, Bambera. But not too many heroics, or you're liable to get yourself promoted.'

He thought he heard her say 'Shame' as she ran back to the helicopter. It rose above the field whipping up a storm of dead web strands and circled away from the campus. Across the road, the jacket he had discarded had become a ma.s.s of pulsing web.

From behind him, he heard shouting. The Yeti were advancing again.

'All right. Chaps with fur. Fire at will!'

The soldiers waited.

The ATR operative lined up the barrel. The weapon fired with a ma.s.sive KCRRWMPP KCRRWMPP. The rocket zipped the air apart.

The two front Yeti went down with the first huge explosion.

Gla.s.s cascaded from the university windows beyond. A cannonade of shots erupted from the platoon.

The two floored Yeti did not get up.

31.

World Wide Web hat are we waiting for?' complained the Brigadier 'Wloudly.

No one on the square had moved, but the atmosphere of expectancy was tangible.

'Are we going to stand here all evening?'

The Yeti had not relaxed its grip on his neck. In front of him, the woman slowly shook her head and sighed deeply.

Something was shuffling behind them: Travers walking with a directness and certainty that belied the years of his old body.

'Bring my gaoler here,' commanded the icy voice as he pa.s.sed.

The Brigadier felt a rough push as the Yeti released him.

Two more Chillys stepped in beside him and began to march him forward. He deliberately took his time, pausing like a contemptuous inspecting officer in front of Cavendish, who stared coldly ahead. The Chillys tried to pull him forward, but he resisted for a moment. The students guarding the woman moved forward to a.s.sist their confederates.

Instantly she grabbed her chance and darted away across the square, back into the building.

'Victoria!' commanded Travers.

The Brigadier stared sharply after her.

'Stop her!' bellowed Travers. 'This time, destroy her!' The man in the pullover smiled to himself and moved after her.

Behind him lumbered the Yeti.

The Brigadier, bored with other people's agendas, wrenched himself free of the Chillys and approached Travers.

The old man, eyes staring and white hair tangled, gazed up at the crackling canopy a mile over their heads. 'My strength is growing, gaoler. All your defences are powerless to stop me.'

Lethbridge-Stewart smiled urbanely. It was usually the Doctor who got to play these confrontation scenes. 'I'm amazed at your ingenuity... Travers.'

The cold eyes swivelled towards him. 'The late Professor Travers,' corrected the voice in Travers's body. 'This is my world now.'

'Of course,' the Brigadier a.s.sured him. 'Doubtless you'll make a better job of it than we humans have.'

The power inside Travers's body began to chuckle.

A strand of web drifted against the Brigadier's face. He s.n.a.t.c.hed it away. 'We humans are basically a gregarious race... Great One,' he continued. 'Despite exceptions, like Daniel Hinton.'

'Deleted from my system,' snapped the voice.

The Brigadier nodded grimly. 'I see.' He gave a smile of supplication. 'Resistance is obviously... what's the word?'

'Useless!' exclaimed the Intelligence in Travers eagerly.

Typical unimaginative response, thought the Brigadier.

What about 'resistance is to be expected', or 'resistance will be crushed'?

Travers's head had turned to watch the progress of a helicopter that was swooping in over the campus.

Captain Bambera watched from the c.o.c.kpit of the Hind. A smell of tension. Behind her, in the belly of the helicopter, sat a dozen hand-picked soldiers, ready to storm the centre of the university.

The Swedish pilot, a veteran flier from Gothenburg, circled the helicopter round and approached the campus from the south. 'Don't think the blades will take much more of this web,' he said.

Winifred Bambera chewed at her lip, the way she'd done since she was a kid in Zambia playing tag with a lost leopard cub in Musi-O-Tunya National Park. When the cub's mother turned up, Winifred's older brother tried to rescue her with their father's rifle. He was so slow, he got badly mauled.

Winifred, aged eight, had to use the gun to rescue them both.

Her father thrashed her. Her brother called her Professor Chicken, because she had no business still being alive.

Ahead, Bambera saw the first explosion designed to draw all the Yeti defences to one point. Stoney-faced as ever, she snapped out her order to the pilot: 'No time to waste, Londqvist. Take us in.'

Londqvist's own glare was suddenly fixed and icy. The helicopter began to swoop down towards the campus.

Sarah pulled Kate back into hiding as someone came running along the walkway. Victoria Waterfield, New World's Vice Chancellor, was heading towards the university's maintenance service area. She looked desperately unhappy. The sound of guns echoed across the campus.

'Where's she off to?' hissed Sarah. She was about to go after Victoria, when Kate pulled a gun out of her jacket. She held it out between her fingers as if she couldn't bear to touch the thing.

'Sarah, take this. It's for my father.'

'You could have used that on the Yeti. You should have said.'

Kate cringed and stuttered. 'Sorry, but please just take it.'

Sarah folded Kate's fingers round the weapon and half grinned. 'No, you hang onto it. I'm a rotten shot.'

'I don't want a fight,' snapped Kate. 'I want my dad back!'

She gasped as Sarah pulled her back out of sight.

Christopher Rice, the Marketing Facilitator, was hurrying up the walkway. He had a gun in his hand too. Not far behind him lumbered a Yeti.

'Where's the back-up got to?' Sarah complained.

They heard the drone of engines. A helicopter was coming in low over the ca.n.a.l. As it flew, it angled wildly in the air.

'Londqvist, I said put us down over there!' yelled Bambera.

The pilot gave a growl of determination. He was squeezing the controls so hard that one of the hand grips cracked across.

The helicopter held its speed. Its course did not alter.

'Londqvist!' Bambera grabbed at his arm, but he thrust her away with his fist. Suddenly he was no longer the sober, bookish Swede whose twin pa.s.sions for rollmop herrings and yak b.u.t.ter tea were legendary. His mouth had pulled into a rictus grin.

The Hind swerved in towards one of the university blocks.

'My Great Plan at last,' snarled the mouth.

The helicopter buzzed the pyramid tower and headed on over the complex. Bambera pulled her gun.

'Back on course now.'

Londqvist ignored her. Strands of web glistened on his jacket.

'I said, now!'

As they cleared the complex, Bambera saw smoke and explosions. The line of Yeti was sweeping Crichton's troops before it. They were pulling back to the convoy.

The Hind bore straight down on the jeeps.

Collision course.

Bambera grabbed at the steering-column with a yell.

Londqvist's hand went in her face, but she pulled at the controls as three hulking squaddies locked onto the pilot. The helicopter tilted sideways and up. The convoy vanished under them.

She fell into Londqvist's seat as he was hoisted out. His boot hit the side of her head.

She swerved the Hind wildly, angling between two trees, clipping the top of a third.

Londqvist gave a cry of fury behind her.

The sky opened up in front. Bambera, her head ringing, steadied the helicopter into a broad turn, which would bring them back round again.

Londqvist was suddenly silent. Bambera angled a glance behind her and saw five squaddies sitting on him.

Ridiculously, she started to laugh.

The helicopter had come so close that Crichton could see the struggle in the c.o.c.kpit.