Part 21 (1/2)

Part Four

As Long as Your Luck Holds Out

Chapter Twenty.

'I wouldn't stand too close if I were you'

The Doctor stood on the flight deck of the Anthaurk battle cruiser Argusia Argusia and tried not to feel put out by the decor. It wasn't easy: the Anthaurk were hefty, powerful, military-minded creatures and their s.h.i.+ps were built to match. Everything was made of some tubular material which glistened like innards. The backs of the pilot's and navigator's seats reared up in front of him like tombstones. In front of them was a control panel packed with big levers and glowing green displays. The ceiling was a good twenty feet above him, crammed with snaking cables, ducts and lighting arrays which looked like cl.u.s.ters of Anthaurk eyeb.a.l.l.s. The whole area was washed in a disturbing blood-red light. The Doctor looked down at the back of his own hand. It looked pink, lurid, the nails s.h.i.+ning pearly white. and tried not to feel put out by the decor. It wasn't easy: the Anthaurk were hefty, powerful, military-minded creatures and their s.h.i.+ps were built to match. Everything was made of some tubular material which glistened like innards. The backs of the pilot's and navigator's seats reared up in front of him like tombstones. In front of them was a control panel packed with big levers and glowing green displays. The ceiling was a good twenty feet above him, crammed with snaking cables, ducts and lighting arrays which looked like cl.u.s.ters of Anthaurk eyeb.a.l.l.s. The whole area was washed in a disturbing blood-red light. The Doctor looked down at the back of his own hand. It looked pink, lurid, the nails s.h.i.+ning pearly white.

Ahead, an oval-shaped viewscreen showed a virtual representation of what was outside, overlaid with tactical grids and readouts. Around the sides of the flight deck, Anthaurk sat or stood at their command posts, intent on their tasks. Their uniforms some sort of leather, no doubt made from whatever unfortunate beasts trod the plains of New Anthaur obviously hadn't been changed or cleaned for a while. The Doctor briefly considered having another crack at the paper on differing hygiene standards between species he'd started one rainy afternoon during his exile on Earth. Maybe he would, if he got out of this current situation in one piece.

The Doctor looked up at Zendaak, who was standing at his left, arms folded, red eyes inscrutable. 'You know it really is good of you to go to all this trouble.'

Zendaak didn't seem to have heard the Doctor. Instead he issued an order to modify their course and maximise speed.

They had left Aloysius Station without the consent of the President or the Senate, and were now a few hours from Yquatine. They may just be able to catch up with the specially prepared attack fleet. Unless they did, the crews of all twelve s.h.i.+ps were doomed.

Zendaak's question came out of the blue. 'Why do want to save the Omnethoth, Doctor?'

'Well,' said the Doctor, 'because I like to believe all life is sacred.'

Zendaak sneered, revealing sharp teeth. 'Ah yes, your liberal, life-respecting stance. But even accepting that all life is sacred, the Omnethoth are manufactured, not naturally evolved. They have no place in the overall scheme of things. Wanting to save them is like wanting to save a lethal virus manufactured in the bio-war labs.'

'Interesting point,' said the Doctor, glad that Zendaak had opened up. He enjoyed a good conversation. 'The Omnethoth have the potential for good. I can alter their DNA so that they'll be peaceful, benign creatures. I'll be giving the universe a new species, creating a new form of life. And that rather appeals to me.' Out of the roots of evil could come great good, et cetera. It was like thumbing your nose at the universal process, not that it could possibly care. 'But most importantly I want to prevent the ionisation attack, which would cause unnecessary deaths.'

Zendaak nodded thoughtfully. 'You're sure you can adapt the Omnethoth?'

The Doctor waved a hand. 'Oh, yes. Piece of cake. All we have to do is get hold of one. And are you sure you know what to do when the time comes?'

Zendaak nodded. 'We have been over the procedure a number of times.'

'It's important we get it right. And, while we're on the subject, why are you helping me?'

Zendaak looked down at the Doctor. 'I want no part in the madness of the ionisation of Yquatine. In helping you I hope to prove Anthaurk innocence beyond all doubt.'

The Doctor smiled. 'A n.o.ble motive.'

Zendaak appeared not to notice the sarcasm in his voice.

Maybe, the Doctor wondered as he stared at the Anthaurk's ballooning muscles on his thighs and upper arms, the three-clawed hand, the blunt, snakelike head, just maybe Zendaak's motives were altruistic. Maybe he really did want to help. After all, he had pulled all the Anthaurk s.h.i.+ps out of the attack, which had angered President Vargeld, until Zendaak had agreed on the compromise measure of the Anthaurk fleet forming part of the protective cordon around Aloysius should the Omnethoth retaliate.

There was something else. Something the Doctor suddenly remembered. A memory of being smothered in choking blackness, breath surging from his straining lungs. Of his mind taking a back seat as something ancient and crude had taken over, using his voice to communicate its obscene, bombastic threat. Of collapsing, chest aching, the gas creature gathering like a cloud above him, preparing to unleash its deadly rainfall... And then strong arms lifting him to safety. Anthaurk arms. Zendaak's arms.

The Doctor reached out and touched Zendaak's shoulder, which was at the level of the crown of his own head. 'You saved my life! And I never even thanked you.'

Zendaak's great head turned and dipped, red eyes staring down at the Doctor. 'There is no need to thank me.'

The Doctor looked into the Anthaurk's widely s.p.a.ced eyes. staring from the black scales like fire from inside a cave. 'Well. thank you anyway.' He smiled and shrugged. 'Slightly curious as to why, though.'

Zendaak pointed with one arm at the forward screens. They showed a virtual image of the surrounding s.p.a.ce, the attack fleet a flotilla of red dots approaching a fuzzy green area that represented the Omnethoth domain, which had once been Yquatine and its moon. 'You revealed the true nature of that.' he hissed. 'Proved it has nothing to do with us.'

Fair enough. If unchecked, the Omnethoth infestation would certainly destroy New Anthaurk; that was proof enough of Anthaurk innocence.

But could he trust the creatures? Could he trust Zendaak? The Doctor looked around the bridge at the other Anthaurk at their stations. There were about a dozen of them, tall, powerful reptiles armed to the teeth and willing to die for their commander. He had no other choice but to trust them, at least for now. Play along with them. He had a suspicion that they would expect him to deliver the Omnethoth to them as a potential weapon. He'd better make sure that the changes he made to their genetic code were irreversible.

The Doctor forced himself to concentrate on the screen. 'How much longer before we reach the Omnethoth?'

'Another hour.'

Couldn't they go any faster? The Doctor tried to conceal his impatience, with only partial success.

Fitz backed away from Arielle, shuffling along the gritty surface of Muath on his backside, his mouth moving but nothing coming out.

This was the last straw. He could feel his mind trying to cope with it all, his left eyelid twitching of its own accord, his heart pounding. What the h.e.l.l was she doing here? He couldn't take his eyes off her face her eyes like black orbs, her mouth stretched back across her face like elastic. How could she breathe breathe?

There was nowhere to run. His oxygen tank was b.u.mping and sc.r.a.ping against the ridged wall of the crater that curved solidly to either side of him. Arielle stood, legs either side of his feet, her mouth opening in a wide O, surely wider than it was meant to. Her beauty distorted, warped, as if reflected in a broken mirror. Why hadn't she shot him, killed him like she'd killed Sorswo? Maybe there was something left of her, some trace of personality. 'Arielle,' said Fitz, his voice cracking. 'Whatever's happened to you, I can help. You're ill...'

His voice tailed off as he saw wisps of dark, black gas issue from her mouth.

Now he realised why she hadn't killed him. Whatever had taken her over was now going to do the same to him.

Suddenly she was yanked backwards and spun round by a black-clad figure which seemed to have come from nowhere. The figure wrested the gun from Arielle's hand, and, before Fitz could intervene, fired at her.

Arielle sailed through the air and landed on her back by the side of the spider-flower thing. She lay there, not moving, wisps of gas twirling round her head, her golden hair splayed over the grey rock. Fitz went to stumble after her, but then he caught sight of her a.s.sailant.

'h.e.l.lo, Fitz.'

The voice wasn't coming from his earpiece: it was inside his mind. And it was familiar. Standing before him was a woman with pale skin and ginger hair in a black cloak. She wasn't wearing a s.p.a.cesuit. She wouldn't be able to breathe.

She didn't need to breathe. She was Compa.s.sion.

Now he could go mad. Now he could give in, start laughing and never stop, let the stars.h.i.+ne pour into his addled mind...

But that was not going to happen. No way. No way because he was far too angry.

He went over to Arielle. She was lying face up, eyes open. wisps of black gas running from her open mouth. 'You've killed her!'

Compa.s.sion came over to join him, looking down at Arielle with obvious disinterest. 'She's just stunned.'

There was something odd about her, a look in her eyes he hadn't seen before. 'You... you b.l.o.o.d.y... thing.' His voice was thick with sobs of anger. 'You tried to kill me. You abandoned me.'

She frowned in annoyance. 'I have just saved your life. Or hadn't you noticed?'

Fitz refused to respond to her sarcasm, letting his anger pour out in a torrent of words. 'You left me on a doomed planet and I've been in sodding prison for a month and why the h.e.l.l h.e.l.l couldn't you have turned up earlier?' couldn't you have turned up earlier?'