Doctor Who: Mission to the Unknown Page 13

  ‘All instrumentation is green,’ Froyn added. ‘Starting transmitter.’ He hit the controls for this, and then nodded. ‘Transmitter functioning perfectly.’

  Powering up another panel, Rhymnal said: ‘Disseminators active. Cellular charge projecting is holding steady.’

  Taking a deep breath, Froyn sat at the final control panel. It was all looking excellent. ‘Countdown commencing. Ten, nine...’

  In their featureless room, the Doctor and Steven were completely at the mercy of Sara Kingdom. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘I’ll give you five seconds to band over the Taranium.’

  Neither of the men moved, and Sara took a step forward. At that second, the pyramid-shaped machine in the centre of the room sprang to life. Though they could not know it, the three of them were watching the transmitter powering up. They were actually standing in the room where Froyn and Rhymnal’s experiment was to be conducted. In some bewilderment, Sara glanced nervously around. The featureless walls suddenly began to pulse with an inner fire.

  Sara spun around, but the door through which she had entered was locked. The roof now began to pulse with the mysterious light, and then everything suddenly went white. She felt as though every fibre of her body was being stretched, strained and snapped. Awash with pain, her consciousness evaporated.

  ‘High negative absorption,’ Froyn reported, as the power discharge sent through the experimental chamber began to fall. ‘Power down now.’

  Rhymnal was having a difficult time keeping a smile from his face. Scientific detachment! he reminded himself. ‘Projection wave is in synchronization with target figures.’ He could barely keep the excitement out of his voice. ‘All instruments show perfect dissemination.’

  Nodding, Froyn shunted in the electronic brains. ‘All controls now on to computer monitoring.’ He sat back, and let out a whoop of sheer joy.

  Rhymnal’s face cracked from side to side in a huge smile. ‘Perfect,’ he crowed. ‘Absolutely perfect!’

  ‘Like a dream,’ Froyn agreed. He switched on a monitor, which showed the room in which Sara had confronted the Doctor and Steven. It was perfectly empty now. The walls and roof had returned to their normal white state. The transmitter had also vanished.

  The two men had very little to do for this stage of the experiment, but neither of them could simply sit still and wait. They occupied themselves taking totally unnecessary readings that showed the energy beam was functioning exactly in accordance with their computer projections. As they worked, the door opened.

  Annoyed at the interruption, Froyn glanced up. ‘Who the devil are you, and who let you in here?’ he demanded.

  The man was dressed in black, and carried a gun in his hand. He was dark, tall and muscular, but his face looked distinctly worried. He flashed a computer ID card at them. ‘Borkar,’ he snapped. ‘SSS.’ He gestured back over his shoulder. ‘That room down the corridor there – what’s going on? I can’t get into it.’

  ‘Your not supposed to get into it,’ Rhymnal replied, angrily. ‘That’s why there are all those “Keep out” notices plastered all over the walls. Now, kindly go away and leave us alone. Were in the middle of a very sensitive experiment – which has already been cleared by security.’

  ‘I don’t much care what you’re in the middle of,’ Borkar said, coldly. ‘This is a security matter now.’

  Rhymnal sighed in exasperation. Just like the security people to start getting fussy right in the middle of the crucial phase of their operations! They’d probably neglected to fill out some obscure form in triplicate a month ago, and the loss had just been noted. Typical. ‘Look, what’s this got to do with the cellular projector?’

  ‘You what? I don’t care about projectors – I want to know about that room. One of our agents went into it, chasing a couple of suspects.’

  ‘What?’ Both Froyn and Rhymnal suddenly looked horrified, the blood draining from their faces.

  ‘I’m her back-up,’ Borkar explained. ‘When I tried to open the door, it was shut fast. Then there was some kind of a power surge. I followed the passage down to here.’

  The two scientists exchanged very worried looks. Rhymnal finally asked: ‘You say that there were people inside the projector?’

  ‘Projector?’ Borkar still had no idea what they were talking about. ‘There are three people inside that room, and the door is locked. Two of them are very dangerous criminals. Now, throw your switches or whatever you do and unseal those doors so that I can get inside and help my leader.’

  Rhymnal shook his head, slowly, still trying to comprehend the magnitude of this disaster. ‘It wouldn’t do any good, I’m afraid. The projector has already been activated.’

  ‘What the devil are you talking about?’ Borkar yelled.

  Froyn answered him, softly. ‘What we is that anyone who was inside that room is no longer to there. It’s a cellular projector, and everything that was inside that room is being transmitted through space.’

  Helpfully, Rhymnal added: ‘They’re part of a wave-front of energy that is travelling through our Galaxy at many times the speed of light. They’re billions of miles from here now – if they are still alive.’

  The delays were becoming quite irritating now. The Black Dalek spun to face the communications technician again. ‘Is there any further report from Mavic Chen?’

  ‘No.’ The technician examined its panel. ‘There has been none now for over two hours.’

  Trantis felt elated by this news. ‘Perhaps,’ he suggested, carefully, ‘Mavic Chen erred when he told you that he could recover the Taranium core – as he erred when he suggested that my people were behind the theft?’

  The Black Dalek had no time for the petty feuds of these foolish humanoids. ‘Mavic Chen will recover the core,’ it stated firmly. ‘Failure to do so will lead to his immediate extermination.’

  ‘That could be a trifle difficult,’ Trantis pointed out. ‘After all, the Guardian of the Solar System is on Earth now – and out of reach of your weapons.’

  The eye-stick spun to focus on him. ‘Nowhere is out of reach of the Daleks,’ the Black Dalek grated, ominously. ‘We repay failure with death. Do not forget that. Ever.’

  Trantis huddled deeper into the shadows, knowing that he had been given his own warning – and that there would be no more.

  The laboratory was becoming quite crowded by now. Borkar had made a short report over his communicator to his superiors. Karlton and Mavic Chen had arrived as swiftly as they could, to the disgust of Froyn and Rhymnal. The two men simply wanted to continue with their readings. Three people in that room had added mass they hadn’t taken into account when they had powered up the transfer beam. Who knew what it might have done to their experiment?

  Mavic Chen’s view of the situation was far different. He eyed agent Borkar in barely contained fury. ‘I understand that you let the traitors escape!’ he accused.

  ‘Well, not exactly,’ Borkar said, carefully. Answering in person for failure to the Guardian was not a way calculated to get an agent promotion. ‘You see...’

  Cutting him off, Chen demanded: ‘Do you have them or not?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  Chen looked at him angrily, then bit back his wrath. ‘Very well. Give me your report.’

  Smartly, Borkar did so. ‘Sir, I was back-up to agent Kingdom. She killed the traitor Vyon, then pursued the two remaining suspects into what we both believed was a normal room. When I attempted to follow to assist her, the door was locked.’ He gestured at the two scientists, who were struggling to get around the other men m the room to take their readings. ‘These men can best explain what happened next, sir.’

  Chen rounded on Froyn and Rhymnal; Borkar was glad to be out of the heat for the moment. ‘Well?’

  ‘It’s an experimental space travel system,’ Froyn explained, glad to have got the ear of the Guardian of the Solar System. ‘As you know, we’ve been using T-mat beams for centuries to travel through the Solar System, but longer distances have eluded u
s. Our system should break the distance barriers.’

  ‘I don’t want a lecture,’ Chen said impatiently. ‘I just want to know where the three people are now.’

  ‘Well,’ Rhymnal offered, ‘if they survived the cellular structural change, then they should be approaching the preset destination.’

  You couldn’t get a straight answer from a scientist. Chen raised an eyebrow and prompted: ‘And that is?’

  ‘The planet Mira.’

  That was all Chen needed – some obscure planet half a Galaxy away! He slammed his fist into his palm in annoyance. There had to be some way out of this – there had to be! He turned back to the two scientists. ‘And what are the chances that they are still alive?’

  Froyn glanced at his companion, who nodded encouragingly. ‘Well, according to our instruments, everything functioned perfectly, despite the excess mass that we had not calculated on.’ He dried up under Chen’s withering glare, then added, quickly: ‘I think it’s safe to say that they’re alive.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Chen said, with heavy sarcasm. ‘Please leave us for a moment.’ The two scientists shrugged, picked up their notes and wandered out into the corridor to confer on how this would affect their experiments, and the results. Chen stared pointedly at Borkar. ‘You too.’

  When he was finally alone with Karlton, Chen whirled around to face his assistant. ‘Mira is not far from Kembel, is it?’

  Karlton shrugged. ‘It’s nearer than Earth is.’

  Chen nodded, a plan having already formed in his Machiavellian mind. ‘We’ll have to call the Daleks and tell them about this. Tell the Daleks that you tricked the fugitives into the cellular transporter deliberately.’

  Karlton stared at hint. ‘You think they’ll believe it?’

  ‘Of course they will believe it! They imagine that no one would ever dare to lie to them deliberately. Make them believe that we planned it so that they could personally recover the core faster this way around. It will suit their plans, and they will naturally believe it.’

  Karlton nodded, thoughtfully. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yes. Have a ship made ready for me.’ Chen looked pained for a moment. ‘I do wish that idiot Vyon hadn’t wrecked my Spar ... Ah well, you can’t conquer a Universe without a few losses.’

  ‘Where will you be going?’

  ‘Back to Kembel. It might be better if I were on hand when the Daleks recover the Taranium core.’

  That made sense to Karlton. ‘I’ll invent a cover story to explain your absence,’ he said. ‘When will you return to Earth?’

  ‘I shan’t,’ Chen replied. ‘It’s too close to the limit now. I shall stay on Kembel until the Daleks begin their masterplan. You and the others will be able to join me there in about three weeks.’

  Thinking about his plans always pleased Mavic Chen. The Daleks thought that they were using him, but they didn’t dream of how grandly Chen had planned! With the Dalek taskforce heading towards Earth in three weeks, Kembel would be left vulnerable to a small strike fleet... ‘The day of Armageddon is drawing close,’ Chen breathed, savouring his plans. ‘The whole history of mankind will be snuffed out like a candle in the wind. When I return to the Earth it will be with a power that no human has ever known! Power absolute!’ The inner light of madness was burning strongly now, and Karlton knew better than to interrupt. ‘Then Earth will rise again, but without the shackles of infantile philosophies like democracy and equality! It will be a new and virgin land that can be shaped... moulded... fashioned into the image that I design. I will be its life-blood – I its creator – I its very god!’

  Abruptly, Chen seemed to realize where he was, and he slowly calmed down, his vision burning dimmer. After a moment, he turned to his assistant. ‘You are a fortunate man, Karlton,’ he observed in quieter tones. ‘You will have a high place in this destiny.’

  ‘The highest,’ Karlton agreed, obsequiously. ‘Next to you.’

  ‘Yes,’ Chen said, thoughtfully. Was this fool getting ideas above his station? Could Chen continue to trust him for much longer? ‘But now there is much to be done. Contact the Daleks and tell them that the fugitives are ready for them on Mira...’

  * * *

  Tendrils of mist curled through the lianas that festooned the huge trees. Low-lying, stagnant pools were interspersed by the trees, whose thick, woody roots protruded from the stinking ground. Ferns and feather-like plants grew in uneven clumps. Insect-like creatures buzzed and zipped through the heavy, oppressive air. Dank smells came and went, carried by what little breezes there were.

  It was hot and oppressive. It was smelly and unpleasant. It was the surface of the planet Mira.

  The everglade-like trees shadowed out much of the sun, so it was difficult to see too far. Dead plants, falling into the waters, rotted where they lay. Occasionally, bubbles of marsh gas broke the surface, hardly improving the quality of the air.

  Close by one such unhealthy pool lay the Doctor. He was on a small hill rising from the waters, and close behind him was a small cave, worn from the rocks by the water action of the swamps over the centuries. Around the Doctor’s unconscious form were scattered various straggly bushes, overlaid by hairy creepers, and overshadowed by the huge trees.

  One of the creepers swung aside, and the leaves of the bush rustled. Had there been a wind, this would not have been remarkable. Since the air was still, though, there was no apparent explanation for the movements. Then the branches of the bush moved, and there was an audible crack as dead material snapped under the weight of something.

  Apart from the Doctor, though, the clearing was quite empty.

  The ground by the Doctor was wet and muddy. Had the old man been awake, he would have viewed with considerable interest – and probably a little trepidation – the footprints that formed in the mud. There was nothing apparently there to cause them. They were the markings of large, bird-like claws.

  Laboured breathing was coming from a spot about seven feet from the ground. It sounded as if a heavy creature was breathing through some form of membrane, and having a good deal of difficulty managing it. This noise moved closer to the Doctor as the invisible being producing it bent to examine this intruder.

  ‘Ugly,’ a voice whispered. The creature reached out and lifted one of the Doctor’s arms, then let it fall. Invisible fingers traced the form of the Doctor’s face. Invisible organs of sight surveyed what they could see. The creature – a Visian – didn’t care for the alien intruder. There was little enough food to be found in this swamp as it was, and fierce competition for what was there with all native life-forms. The last thing the Visians wanted was a new species moving in to take some of that precious food.

  Then again, maybe this new creature was edible?

  The Vision paused to study the Doctor again, and to pinch at the flesh. Thin, very thin. Not good feasting here. The Doctor groaned. The invisible creature jumped back, splashing in a puddle as it did so. The Doctor began to stir, finally waking. Deciding that discretion was perhaps the most admirable virtue, the Visian beat a hasty retreat to the safety of the bushes. There it lurked, watching unseen as the Doctor groaned again and finally managed to lever himself into a sitting position.

  His head was aching slightly, and a dreadful smell assaulted his nostrils, acting like smelling salts. Shaking his head to clear away the vestiges of unconsciousness, the Doctor wearily clambered to his feet. Not for the first time, he wished he still had one of his walking sticks from the TARDIS with him. This ground looked quite treacherous indeed.

  There was no sign of his companions, nor of the room in which they had been standing. ‘Not the Earth,’ the Doctor muttered, looking about. ‘Even that planet doesn’t smell this foul.’ He batted at the air in front of his face, making no discernible difference to the stench. Giving up, he called: ‘Steven! Steven!’

  There was no reply. Shrugging to himself, the Doctor chose a direction at random to start searching for his young friend. He had taken only a step when he spotted t
he footprints left by the visitor hiding in the bushes. He went down on to one knee, investigating the print with great care. It was already starting to fill with water, but it told him a few things. ‘Tall,’ he deduced. ‘About seven feet, I should say. Heavy, too, and bipedal. Good length of stride. Quite formidable, I imagine. And fresh ,’ he added, seeing the rate at which water was seeping into his own footprints. The creature that had made these prints couldn’t have gone far. The Doctor examined the landscape carefully, but saw nothing, even though the Vision was hunched less than twelve feet away from him.

  The Doctor set off into the bushes, beginning a slow sweep of the area. After a moment, the Vision stood up. It followed, quietly and invisibly, after the Doctor. Footprints appeared as it walked, and the bushes moved when it pushed them aside. Otherwise, there was nothing to show its passage.

  It took about five minutes for the Doctor to find Steven. The young man was lying on the grass, looking almost peaceful. Shaking his head, the Doctor hurried over. ‘Steven!’ he called urgently into his companion’s ear. ‘Steven!’ He helped the young pilot to sit up and, eventually, Steven began to come round.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked, rubbing the back of his head, which pained him. He took in the surroundings, and then the Doctor. ‘She.. she was going to shoot... to shoot... what happened?’

  ‘I’m not entirely sure,’ the Doctor confessed. ‘If she did shoot, though, I don’t think we’ve come to Katarina’s Place of Perfection, judging by the surroundings and the smell.’

  ‘Phew,’ Steven agreed. ‘It’s like a hothouse in here. Where are we?’

  ‘I really don’t have the faintest idea,’ the Doctor replied cheerfully. ‘One minute we were in a room on the Earth, and the next – here.’ He waved an arm about.

  Steven was trying to get his thoughts together. ‘I seem to remember falling,’ he said, slowly. ‘As if I were falling a long distance. It’s vague, though. Maybe it was just a dream.’

  The Doctor patted his arm. ‘I seem to have experienced something of the same dream, then. However, how we got here isn’t all that important. What we do need to know is where we are. Do you recall that machine that stood in the centre of the room with us? I suspect that it was some form of transmitter, and that it will be with us here somewhere. We can be certain that however we were projected to this place, they will know about it on the Earth. That means that Mavic Chen will know – and so will the Daleks!’