Part 24 (1/2)

Her vision blurred and the sounds of activity from behind were m.u.f.fled. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the tide of sickness which rose in her stomach. She clenched her fists so tight that she thought her palms would bleed. She ignored the vivid impression in her mind that, on the far side of the disturbance, there were Cybermen, Yeti and alien knights waiting in ambush. She controlled that illogical fear, concentrating instead on thoughts of Ancelyn and the twins. Her temples began to ache and her legs were unsteady; her nerves were screaming at her to turn around.

Without conscious thought or action, she was back outside the barrier, in an undignified heap, the world shooting into focus again. She realized she was screaming and she closed her mouth, embarra.s.sed. She picked herself up and glared from one soldier to another as if challenging them to smirk. They remained po-faced and avoided her glare.

Not bad,' said an approving voice. 'That's about as far as I got too.'

'Who are you?' asked Bambera gruffly.

'Forrester, sir. I'm with the Doctor.' Bambera looked the woman over with approval. Her well-toned musculature, her prematurely grey hair with its smart military cut and her general alertness all told the Brigadier that this Forrester was an experienced trooper, and very likely a good one. Not like the accountants and resource managers on fast-track career paths who had infiltrated even UNIT these days.

'We're not sure what's happening in there yet,' Forrester reported. 'We'd only just had the all-clear when the barrier appeared. Chances are, it's something to do with Dr Who and Jason.'

'And who are they?'

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. 'Hey, Miss. .h.i.tler-in-Army-Boots, I think you should look up there.'

On the Palace balcony, more rightly reserved for public appearances by the Royal Family, two men had emerged to survey the crowd of soldiers below. No, Bambera checked 189 herself, make that three men. The third was a stocky, blond-haired lad, who hung back at the balcony entrance and bobbed into view only momentarily.

'It's Chris!' Summerfield exclaimed.

'So that's where he went to,' breathed Forrester.

Bambera's gaze was rooted on the foremost figure: the all too familiar, part-frightening, part-rea.s.suring form of the enigmatic Doctor. 'What's your alien friend doing up there?' she asked Forrester, grumpily.

'That's not him. It's a fictional double, created by the guy in the blazer on the right.'

Bambera grunted an acknowledgement of that information and looked at Tavistock, who seemed as confused as she was.

She stared up at the crazy tableau. The alien freak doffed his hat and waved graciously; she was aware of the explosion of a dozen flash bulbs from the media behind her.

'Shame!' Brigadier Bambera cursed.

Even trapped in her plush underground office, the Superior of Detrios managed to exude an aura of power and majesty. She remained implacable, a s.h.i.+mmering shape of blackness behind her plastic desk, and she coolly eyed Darnak and Merrioc as they flanked the barricaded door, guns ready. 'May I remind you,' she said, 'that it is your responsibility to die to protect me when the moment comes. You first, I think, Darnak.'

Politik Darnak didn't know which he feared most: the approaching sounds of battle without or the steel-willed, haughty dictator within. He felt his hand sweating around the blaster weapon's cold b.u.t.t and, for an absurd moment, he thought it was going to slip out of his grasp.

He was going to die.

That thought was only beginning to seep into his brain. With each crackle of gunfire and each whoop of victory from the cultists, it penetrated a little further.

'I wish you to know, Darnak,' growled the Superior, her composure melting just a little, 'that I hold you personally responsible for all this.'

Darnak gritted his teeth, experiencing the familiar hot flush 190 and helpless misery of humiliation at her hands. It occurred to him that, with death closing in, he didn't have to put up with her jibes this time.

'It was clearly the prison escape you allowed which emboldened these . . . these commoners commoners into thinking they can usurp me!' into thinking they can usurp me!'

'Actually, ma'am,' said Merrioc ingratiatingly, 'it occurs to me that Politik Darnak was also the last representative of the Ruling Family to communicate with the legions of the Undying One. I wonder if perhaps he upset them?'

Darnak glared at him. The Superior was pacing angrily. A few seconds later, she turned and shouted again: If you had had the courage to take on just three cultists in Street 4, I would have been in the battles.h.i.+p Morningstar Morningstar and safely off this planet by now. I swear, if I die today, I will come back to haunt you, Darnak!' and safely off this planet by now. I swear, if I die today, I will come back to haunt you, Darnak!'

Somebody screamed, immediately outside the door. All present knew that it was almost certainly the last of the Superior's personal guard. Darnak's heart quickened and he fumbled with his blaster. It slid from his trembling hands, hit the floor and discharged into the office wall.

'You fool!' the Superior shrilled, marching around the desk to where her presence could more effectively intimidate him. 'A lizard man could be better trained than you, Darnak!' She pointed a perfectly manicured fingernail towards the site of impact. 'And the repair for that is coming out of your pocket!'

Darnak broke. He slapped her across the face and yelled, in barely coherent, staccato tones: 'Shut - up - you - selfish - manipulative - tyrant!'

The Superior's nostrils flared and her lower lip quivered in speechless fury. Darnak felt light-headed. One voice in his head told him he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life. Another crowed: What the h.e.l.l? It's over anyway!

His outburst, unsurprisingly, was met by silence.

Total, absolute, silence.

It took a moment for Darnak to realize what that meant. And even then, he didn't believe it. Not until Merrioc's satisfied 191 proclamation: 'I can't hear anything. The fighting's stopped.'

He paused, enjoying the moment. Then, for no obvious reason other than to rub salt into Darnak's metaphorical wound, he expounded: 'Enros must have given up.'

Darnak's legs went weak as the Superior squared up to him with a look that said she was going to take great s.a.d.i.s.tic pleasure from what came next. Terrified, he inadvertently looked into her eyes. It was true: they were like obsidian pools.

Or rather, he thought as his stomach roiled and he dropped to his knees, like black holes, drawing him into their fatal embrace. He opened his mouth, not too proud to abjectly beg for forgiveness.

Then the door exploded, catching Merrioc unawares in a blizzard of wood splinters, and the room was suddenly swarming with cultists.

Darnak thanked the Miracle that he was only going to die after all.

Roz and Bambera crouched side by side at the edge of the barrier, whilst Benny and Captain Tavistock looked on and were disregarded. Roz had prised open her blaster and was prodding at its insides with a length of wire.

'If the energy from this thing can get through the barrier,'

asked the Brigadier attentively, 'then why did your shots bounce of it?'

'Too much too fast,' said Roz. 'The field is set to reflect energy, but without a real physical presence, it can't do that with one hundred per cent efficiency.'

'I see. So we drip it in slowly.'

'That's right, sir. It's a tried and trusted procedure. I did this a hundred times when I was in the Adjudication Service.

Eventually, the field will reach saturation point and the whole thing will blow.'

'Eventually?'

'It could take anything from ten minutes to an hour and a half.'

'Will your power pack last that long?'

If not,' said Roz, 'we can use Benny's.'

192.