Part 12 (1/2)

'So how should they be?'

'Oh, I dunno. Stamping about and giving orders. Blowing things up. That sort of thing. . . They're warriors, subjugating the galaxy in the name of their great all-powerful G.o.d.' He frowned, looking almost disappointed.

'Well, let's just count ourselves lucky that they're not stamping around, blowing things up, shall we?' Rose said. 'What are we gonna do about stopping them?'

'First things first.' The Doctor pulled a crumpled photograph from his pocket. 'Look familiar?'

Rose took it, squinting at it in the dim light. It was the photograph of a small boy.

'Oh, my G.o.d! It's the boy I saw in my dream.'123.

'I've been seeing a lot of him tonight. It seems that it's not just monsters being brought to life.'

'Where did you get this?'

'Bronwyn Ceredig. Now, I need you to find out who this is. . . I think his name is Jimmy and I think he was her son. Find out what happened to him, Rose. Find out what Bronwyn knows.'

'You think she's something to do with this?'

'That's what I need you to find out! What I do know is that there's a thumping great alien transmitter in the lamp room of the lighthouse that needs sorting out.' The Doctor smiled that mischievous smile of his. 'And that's where young Ali here comes in.'

Peyne stared in frustration at the inert equipment that littered the cellar. All around it, Cynrog technicians scurried to and fro, pus.h.i.+ng past her without catching her gaze. Psychic reception had fallen practically to zero.

Hadron hurried over to her.

'Well?' Peyne snapped.

'The equipment is functioning perfectly, Priest Commander. And the generators are at full power. If we are not receiving a signal, then it can only mean that. . . '

'That the children are not asleep.' Peyne gave a hiss of displeasure.

'You think they have realised?'

'The primitives in the village have no concept of what is going on. No, I think our friend the Doctor has had a hand in this. A Time Lord desperately trying to uphold the principles of his people. Protecting the lesser species.' Peyne's voice was filled with contempt.

'Do we still have his companion, the girl?'

'Yes, Commander Peyne. Locked in one of the upper rooms.'

'Then the Doctor might regret siding with these humans.' She licked her lips with a flick of her tongue. 'Can the equipment be modified to induce sleep in the target subjects?'

Hadron's brow furrowed. 'Theoretically it is just a matter of recalibration of some of the components in the emitter.'124.

'Then do it! Force the children back into their dream state. The Synod will not wait much longer and I am keen to be free of this world.'

'Peyne?' Morton's voice bellowed from upstairs.

Peyne hissed in irritation.

'Peyne, I want to talk to you!'

'I expect a report from you in fifteen minutes, Priest Technician Hadron.' Peyne's voice made it perfectly clear that she would brook no more delays. 'Take as many novices as you need from other duties to get the work done, but get those children dreaming again!'

Hadron hurried back towards the machinery, summoning technicians as he went. Peyne turned and made her way up the cellar stairs. Morton was waiting for her at the top.

'What is going on, Peyne?'

The old man's face was red and beaded with sweat. Peyne wrinkled her nose in disgust.

She shut the door to the cellar, determined to keep her tone civil. She still needed Morton's cooperation, at least for the present. It would do them no good for the man to get unduly agitated.

'It seems our friend the Doctor has some understanding of what we are doing here, of how we are generating the creatures at any rate: It seems that he has persuaded our dreamers not to sleep tonight.'

Morton's hands tightened on the arms of his wheelchair, knuckles whitening.

'Why is he interfering?'

Peyne gave an unpleasant smile. 'Because he's a Time Lord. He thinks that it is his role to put right the wrongs of the universe. They always were an arrogant race and this one is no different.'

'd.a.m.n him!'

There was anguish in Morton's voice. It was this anguish that was responsible for what they had started here, this anguish that Peyne had used to drive Morton ever further, that had brought them here to this ancient rectory and so close to completing her mission. It had made Morton ambitious and dangerous.

'Is the Doctor's friend still locked up?' he snapped. 125 Peyne nodded. 'In one of the upper rooms.'

Then get her! Bring her down here.' Morton was shaking with rage.

'If the Doctor insists on interfering, then he and the girl will regret it.'

Peyne gave a smile of amus.e.m.e.nt. It never ceased to amaze her how far this primitive was prepared to go for his own survival. She had chosen wisely when she picked him.

The technicians are busy. I'll get the girl myself.'

'Bring her to the ward.'

With that Morton spun his wheelchair on the spot and wheeled himself out of the hallway. She liked seeing him like this. Too often he moped and moaned his way through the day, constantly whining about his condition. Anger made him powerful, anger let her see what lay within him, and it thrilled her.

She crossed the hall, climbing the old staircase to the upper floor. It might be interesting to let Morton have free rein with the girl, to see just how far he was prepared to go. If nothing else, it would provide the technicians with a much needed diversion from the monotony of their duties.

She crossed to the door of the room where the girl was locked and pulled the snub-nosed disintegrator pistol from her pocket. The girl should still be groggy from the drugs that she had been given, but there was no harm in being cautious. She reached out to open the door then stopped, puzzled. The key wasn't in the lock. She reached for the bra.s.s handle and turned it. There was a soft click. The door was unlocked!

With a cry of anger, Peyne kicked the door open and stopped in amazement.

Sprawled out on the bed, arms folded behind his head, was the Doctor.

He sat up unhurriedly and gave her a quizzical look.

'Room service, I hope. I'd love a cuppa.'

Snarling, Peyne raised the gun.