Part 24 (1/2)

As you can see it's got a large bomb outside it presumably just in case the same somebody wants to remove the evidence at a later date. Inside this station there are also computer-animated robots very much like the ones Neels Prander uses in his little films, except these are all identical and all called Baal. Baal, as you can see, is a standin Averonian. Through a vidi link he directs work on the moon of Averon where slaves a.s.semble the Union's versions of synthonic weapons. Listen to my friend who's been there.'

In his apartment Neels Prander stared at the screen in horror as Sarah's face appeared.

'My name is Sarah Jane Smith...'

Prander ran to a closet in his bedroom and from the bottom of it he s.n.a.t.c.hed up a locked case, then made for the front door. In the corridor outside he found several of his neighbours exchanging bewildered comments.

'Is it a joke?'

'That's the alien who killed the admiral.'

'But they said he was dead.'

Prander tried to push past them un.o.btrusively. 'Hey, Neels

what's going on?'

'It's all a hoax don't believe a word of it,' he said, and he forced himself to walk down to the end of the corridor.

Around the corner he broke into a run.

'For a while I was one of the slave workers,' Sarah's recorded image continued. 'But the actual parts we a.s.sembled weren't made on the moon itself or Averon. They came by freighter from Deepcity. Most of the other workers are Alliance diplomats and scientists, probably kidnapped to stop them from making peace or improving their own world's weapons systems and so make them independent of Deepcity. If you don't believe me check the real production records. We'll tell you where to find them in a minute...'

A straggling line of City guards were arrayed across the landing basin firing up at the port control room. Already all its windows had been blown out, and the rock around it scorched and pockmarked. The top of the internal stairway was barricaded, and its steps littered with the remains of a couple of synthoids, demolished by high energy grenades Orsang'tor had enhanced in the TARDIS's laboratory. Inside the control room, Callon'mal had leant a table across the exposed cables and the Doctor's transmitter to protect them from flying debris.

'More synths being deployed, sir,' a lookout reported to Ch.e.l.l, then ducked down as another fusillade ripped up the remains of the window frame and began to gouge out fresh chunks of the far wall and ceiling. It was only a matter of time before they forgot about saving the installation and started to use more powerful weapons. Ch.e.l.l spoke into his wrist communicator: 'Second unit: deploy and give support now.'

Lying almost forgotten behind the fresh line of synthoids, the TARDIS's door opened unnoticed and Tramour'des led the rest of the Jand force out into the fray.

Kambril and Andez burst through the door of central control.

Oban gratefully relinquished the command chair to her superior.

'Can't you turn that d.a.m.ned transmission off?' Andez snapped.

'La.s.siter's working on it, sir.'

Kambril scanned the monitors depicting the battle in the landing basin. 'A whole platoon of Jand. Where did they all come from?'

'That blue box thing, sir,' Oban said, with a hopeless shrug.

Kambril saw lights moving along the schematic of the Valley's travel tubes. 'What are all these capsules doing heading out from the factory?'

'I don't know, sir. The link with the supervisor's been cut.'

Kambril suddenly clutched his head. 'That program disk.

Shut the tubes down immediately use the overrides.'

'We can't, sir.'

'Why not?'

'The overrides have been, er, overridden.'

The screens now showed a bright star in s.p.a.ce, accompanied by a continuous hissing crackle.

'This is Landor's sun, and the sound is radio interference from the radiation fields that supposedly surround and permeate the entire system. Supposedly...' The scene changed to a peaceful park-like vista with tall clean buildings beyond.

'This is Central City, Landor,' said the narration. 'Some of you may recognize it, though there has been considerable rebuilding since the war ended. You see, although Landor was badly damaged it was not destroyed in the great Averon offensive. On the contrary, most of the people here think Deepcity was destroyed and the rest of the cl.u.s.ter has degenerated into civil wars and anarchy, and they have nothing to do with them. And so they are at peace, isolated behind their artificially maintained interference barriers. I know this will come as a terrible shock to you, but you don't have to accept our word for it; take that of a native Landoran, whose face will be familiar to Academ Cara Tarron.' Brin Vender appeared walking down his garden path towards a fan of light. 'This is Cara Tarron's brother. Some of her friends might also recognize him from the picture she carries. Ask her who he is. Come and meet him in person and hear the truth from his own lips. If your leaders or the City guards try to stop you, ask them why. What have they got to hide?'

Brin Vender's face appeared full screen now. 'My name is Brin Vender, I am Cara Tarron's brother and a citizen of Landor. We were told this complex was destroyed at the end of the war...'

In Cara's laboratory, her colleagues crowded incredulously about the main screen, shaking their heads in disbelief.

'Landor still there?'

'Turn it off. It's all alien lies.'

'I told you I can't turn it off.'

'Well, smash the screen.'

But one of them had been staring hard at Vender's face.

'But I have seen him before. In Cara's picture.'

'But it can't be. The whole thing's impossible.'

'We need Cara to say for sure.'

'Where is she anyway?'

Cara stopped to double over, clutch her knees and catch her breath. She was about halfway to the Valley wall, she estimated. Why wasn't there any transport around when you needed it? Even as the thought pa.s.sed through her mind a shadow flitted overhead. It was a skimmer manned by two synthoids. Then another flew over and another, all coming from the factory on the opposite side of the Valley and heading towards the main complex. And one was dropping down towards her. She looked about desperately, but there was nowhere to hide.

'Cara Tarron,' a booming amplified voice called out.

'What do you want?'

'The Doctor programmed us to protect you if we found you.'

'The Doctor? But he's dead.'