Part 34 (2/2)

Suddenly Xznaal was in front of him, emerging from a column of choking black smoke and filling his field of vision.

'If I die, you wil die,' he bellowed.

'If you die, the Earth will live,' the Doctor said, standing his ground. 'I've died many times before, Xznaal, and death doesn't scare me.'

It was getting hotter. There was fire behind the gla.s.s door that led into the rest of the s.h.i.+p. Hot gases would be swirling around the s.h.i.+p, melting plastics and the softer metals like cast iron. The light from the flames was pouring into the Dispersion Chamber, and soon the flames themselves would be in here.

Above him, the Red Death continued to rage.

Xznaal brought a claw up, sweeping the Doctor from his path and charging towards the release controls. The Martian tugged at the lever, but it didn't move. He tried again, and it came away in his claw.

The Doctor took a step back. 'You are beaten.'

Xznaal turned, still defiant. 'I can still make my mark on history, Doctor,' he roared. 'As the man who killed you.'

The Martian was holding a burning torch, a piece of wreckage from a damaged section of floor. The firelight danced over the landscape of the Martian's face, throwing its rifts and valleys into sharp contrast. A sweep from the torch and the Doctor stumbled, struggling to retain his balance. He was pinned against the wal now.

Xznaal tossed the torch aside, reached over him and yanked off one of the stainless steel gas cylinders bolted to the bulkhead. Xznaal swung it down without effort, angling it at the Doctor.

'You saw what the liquid nitrogen did to Vrgnur,' Xznaal rasped. 'Imagine the effect it would have on soft Gallifreyan flesh.'

The Doctor had no time to do anything but wince as Xznaal tugged at the valve. A jet of colourless gas spurted out, streaming over his cheek. The Doctor opened his eye and turned back to Xznaal.

'Nothing's going right for you today, is it?'

Xznaal hurled the canister at him with an exasperated grunt. The Doctor had already dived out of the way. He bent down to examine the cylinder as it rolled over to him, shutting off the valve to prevent any more gas from escaping.

Xznaal loomed over him, hissing.

The Doctor held up the cylinder so that Xznaal could see it. 'Helium,' he cal ed up at the monolith. 'An inert gas.

Harmless, especially to a Time Lord with a respiratory bypa.s.s system. And now I have the satisfaction of knowing that when you utter your last words, they'll be squeaky ones.'

'Your last words wil be lost to the winds, Time Lord,' Xznaal cheeped. He pointed one claw at the floor, resting the other on a vast red lever.

The Doctor looked down and realised that his feet were planted on the edge of the iris hatch.

Xznaal grabbed the lever and pulled.

The hatch dilated open and the wind whipped up from the gaping hole behind the Doctor lifting the tails of his frock coat. The Doctor steadied his feet, balancing right on the lip of the opening. He glanced back over his shoulder.

Debris was pouring through the hole and out over London.

'That's a terrific view,' the Doctor observed, turning back.

Xznaal grabbed the Doctor's throat, yanking him off his feet and swinging him over the hole. The Doctor's legs pedalled in thin air, and he tried to keep control of his breathing.

The Doctor was still gripping the gas cylinder. He brought it down on the Ice Warrior's shoulder, and again. He only succeeded in denting the cylinder, which slipped from his grip.

There was an explosion far behind them, a great reverberation that ran the full length of the s.h.i.+p. The wars.h.i.+p lurched. Another explosion. Another. These weren't missile strikes: the magnetic engines were in chain reaction now.

'Goodbye,' the Doctor said softly.

Xznaal said nothing, he simply released his grip.

The Doctor's hands tried to shoot forwards, to grab onto the edge of the hatchway, but the gas cylinder was in the way. With al his weight tugging at it, the canister began rolling inexorably towards the edge. Wide-eyed, the Doctor tried to scrabble over it, a movement which ended abruptly as he found himself outside.

The underside of the Martian s.h.i.+p stretched above him, dark, spiky metal as far as even his eyes could see. The only break was the circular hatch he had just fallen through, which was diminis.h.i.+ng with every second. The wind was whipping around him, drowning out the sound of the s.h.i.+p tearing itself apart.

Xznaal was leaning over, his claws clenched in triumph. He was rumbling with laughter. The fire came only moments later, lapping around the Martian, surging over his vast frame and obliterating him. He died satisfied that he had killed a Time Lord, that his people had been avenged.

119.

Extract from the memoirs of Professor Bernice Summerfield The Provisional Government forces had been rounded up. Eve Waugh and Alan were filing a report in front of the White Tower. The Brigadier and I were up in the Lanthorn Tower, peering through binoculars at the Martian wars.h.i.+p. Even at an alt.i.tude of ten kilometres it filled my viewfinder.

It shook again.

'What's going on up there?' I asked. The vapour trails of the RAF planes were visible, but not the planes themselves, they were too small.

'The air strikes are really hitting home,' the Brigadier said enthusiastical y. 'That wars.h.i.+p real y is a marvel, though.

It must be solid metal in places. How do you think the Doctor will escape?'

I considered my answer for a couple of seconds. 'The magnetic platform won't be reliable - it depends on power from the wars.h.i.+p. By now, he's probably destroyed the gas and he'll be making his way to the shuttle bay.'

'And that's in that compartment towards the front, isn't it? So, we watch out for movement along - '

The wars.h.i.+p exploded.

'My G.o.d,' the Brigadier said softly. 'Not again.'

All around us, people were cheering. The shouts and whoops almost drowned out the rumbling, rolling sound of the explosion as it reached ground level.

'He ... he might have survived,' I said.

'He might have,' the Brigadier said gently. 'Professor Summerfield ... Benny. The important thing is that he beat the Martians. Thanks to him the entire human race has been saved.'

The Brigadier was trying to convince himself as much as persuade me. He was the one who had ordered the air strike, and he'd been the Doctor's friend a great deal longer than I had.

'Yes,' I said, just wanting to cling to something that was certain. 'At least it was quick.'

The Brigadier s.h.i.+fted on his feet. I only found out a few years ago why - he must have known that when a pilot or astronaut dies in a fire or an explosion it's not a quick clean death. A fighter pilot can expect to live a full five to ten seconds as his aircraft explodes around him. It's as bad, apparently, for those who have to listen to the black box voice recorders afterwards.

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