Doctor Who: Galaxy Four (6 page)

But he had been waiting for exactly that. Retaining his grip with one hand, he dropped the other to below her lifted knee and yanked hard. Over she went, like a toppled doll, to crash onto the deck with an ugly thud, her head connecting as well and wiping out her mind for a matter of seconds. That was enough for Steven. By the time she was blinking her way back to clarity and intending to renew the fight, he was standing over her with the gun pointed at her head. Beside him was Vicki, clutching a drink container that she had obviously intended to use for purposes other than that for which it was designed. Maaga felt no fear, but duty had to be borne in mind: her duty was to get her ship and soldiers into space or, short of her ship, that of the Rills. To do that she had to remain alive. Yet there were several ways of achieving that end.

She narrowed her eyes calculatingly. ‘You would not dare kill me.’

Steven smiled. It was not a nice smile – it lacked warmth. ‘Try me.’

The Doctor could see that the young man was not in the best of moods. He rather fancied that, pushed too far, he might do something foolish. Something decisive was called for. ‘Let’s go,’ he said, ‘while there’s still time.’

Steven backed away, his knuckle showing too white on the gun. Maaga lay still, deciding she had pushed matters as far as they would go. The man looked nervous. From such a state of mind evil things can come. She might get damaged and that would do no good for her crew. Best to leave things as they stood. ‘You will help us,’ was as much as she could muster.

‘Place no bets,’ Steven said, his brain still in a turmoil of rage. He knew he hated the woman and he knew that it was not just because she had proved so strong, but he really disliked her and the temptation to do her a serious injury was almost irresistible. If he yielded to it, he would feel a lot better. But not later, he reminded himself, not later. Then would come the misgivings, the remorse. Never before in his life had he fought a woman. It was not an experience he would choose to repeat. Yet his finger still itched on the trigger. He viewed the supine Maaga and said, very gently, ‘The next time we run across each other, step aside. My good breeding is leaving me.’

Maaga only stared at him – and loathed him.

‘Come on, come on,’ the Doctor said from the entry. ‘We can’t afford to idle away our time like this.’

‘All right,’ Steven replied, and moved towards the door.

Vicki crossed to the Doctor who pressed the door lever. It slid open – and there were the three Drahvins, returned from patrol and still holding their guns, which happened yet again to be pointed at the Doctor. Their faces were as devoid of expression as ever they were, but there was no arguing with the outlets of their weapons. The Doctor surveyed them bleakly: such beauty, yet no being behind it. He would have felt sorry for them, but time was running short. ‘Step aside,’ he said. ‘We’re leaving.’

Drahvin One opened her pretty mouth and spoke. ‘You are not. We await instructions from Maaga.’

Maaga rose to her feet and held out a hand to Steven: ‘My gun.’

Reluctantly he handed it over. She took it and put it in her holster. ‘Now you will help us.’

‘We don’t seem to have a lot of choice,’ the Doctor said.

‘You have none at all. The Rills have fourteen dawns in which to repair their spaceship.’ She paused as she saw Steven glance at the Doctor. ‘It is fourteen, isn’t it?’

The Doctor nodded vigorously. ‘Absolutely.’ She eyed him suspiciously. ‘You’re quite sure?’ ‘Quite.’

‘Suddenly I don’t believe you.’ Her voice sharpened. ‘When is the explosion due to occur?’ ‘As I said. In fourteen dawns’ time.’

Maaga made a gesture and Drahvins One and Two crossed to Vicki and seized her. ‘Let go of me,’ she said. But their grip was firm and she stilled when she saw Drahvin Three aiming her gun at her.

‘If you don’t tell me the truth we shall kill the girl,’ Maaga said. There was no emotion in her voice. She had stated a fact and that was all there was to it.

The Doctor could do nothing but concede the point. It was obvious that the threat was a real one. ‘Very well. We have two dawns left.’

Maaga was clearly shaken. ‘Is that all?’

‘Yes. My calculations were exact.’

Maaga pulled herself together. ‘Then you don’t have a lot of time in which to capture the Rills’ ship.’ She pointed. ‘It is that way. It will not take you long to find.’

The Doctor was taken aback. ‘Just like that? You expect us to stroll over there, announce that we’re in charge and the Rills will simply surrender?’

‘I do not care what method you use. I need that ship and I shall have it.’

‘It may not be repaired yet.’

‘I’ll bet it isn’t,’ Steven said. ‘If it were they’d have gone by now, wouldn’t they?’

‘I am quite sure the Doctor can make good any damage still remaining. And you have one advantage: the Rills believe they have fourteen dawns left. We know differently. That being so, you had better be off. The girl will stay here.’

‘No, she won’t,’ Steven said. ‘I will.’

‘You will go with the Doctor.’

He shook his head. ‘Nope. Vicki can.’

The Doctor could see that Steven had something in mind, though he did not know what. ‘If you want us to help you’ll do as the young man says, or no-one goes anywhere.’

Maaga hesitated, but she was aware that time was passing. She nodded. ‘Very well. The girl can go with you.

Vicki sighed with relief. She had no idea of what the Doctor could possibly do, but anything would be better than incarceration with Maaga and her three morons. She did not know why Steven had been so insistent about remaining, but he was no fool and she presumed his reasons were good.

‘Come along, Vicki,’ the Doctor said as he headed for the door.

Drahvin Three operated the lever to open the door and the Doctor and Vicki went outside, both nodding a farewell to Steven who grinned at them. ‘Don’t get into any mischief,’ he said. The door closed behind his friends and he turned back to Maaga. ‘Surely you don’t think they’ll be able to capture the Rills’ spaceship, do you?’

Maaga surveyed him coldly. ‘If they do not we shall all die together.’

The Doctor stood outside the spaceship and looked thoughtfully into the sky. He had the curious feeling that he had missed something – something that was staring him right in the face. What could it be? He let his mind thread very gently through the experiences they had had since materialising on this planet; he was not concentrating too hard, and in fact noticed that one of the suns had now gone down and the next was edging toward the horizon. Their speed of travel he did not know, but clearly night could not be far away. How long that would last he had no idea, but guessed not too long. By the time the last sun had gone down the first would be moving round to rise again and that would bring the planet one step nearer to extinction. What was it that chap Bertrand Russell had said? Something about the fact that the Earth’s sun having risen for countless millions of years being no guarantee that it would rise tomorrow. That man knew of what he spoke. In life it was all too easy to take matters for granted and assume that things would trundle along as they always had. But where was the guarantee? Fate had a nasty habit of lulling beings into a false sense of security and then yanking the mat from under them. It had happened before and would undoubtedly go on doing so. It was about to happen here, with quite a sizeable bang. He found himself wishing that he could retain his own mind and this time occupy a body more like Steven’s, compact, muscular, capable of far more than this decrepit creation he was using at the moment. He was tired of it. Sooner or later renewal would come and he prayed that when the time came he would be better served. Something comfortable and capable was what he longed for, something able to do more of what he asked of it. He mused and pondered on the whimsical ways of Fate.

‘Where have you gone, Doctor?’ Vicki asked softly. She had seen him trekking through his own mind before and knew better than to jolt him. He usually came up with something.

‘Ah.’ The Doctor collected his straying thoughts. ‘I was wondering how long the night lasts,’ he lied. ‘Not very long, by the looks of it.’

‘Shouldn’t we be getting on?’

‘A few hours at most,’ he continued. ‘The question is, how long is the intervening day?’

‘Not long enough, considering what’s going to happen.’

‘Quite, quite.’ The Doctor was about to turn away when his eye was caught by the scratches his screwdriver had made in the hull of the ship near the door. He looked closer and sighed at his own slowness. There it was, staring him right in the face. Sometimes he wondered how he had survived as long as he had. Was it pure luck, or did he have a personal guardian angel looking after him? ‘Do you remember when we were captured by that... Chumbley?’ he asked.

‘I’m not likely to forget it in a hurry,’ Vicki said. ‘And that gun it had which fired some sort of light ray?’

‘Yes, of course.’

The Doctor still gazed at the scratches. ‘Quite powerful, wasn’t it?’

Vicki was puzzled. ‘It certainly looked it.’

‘Then why haven’t they used it on this ship?’ the

Doctor mused. ‘After all, if the Rills are such enemies of the Drahvins why don’t they just wipe them out?’ ‘Perhaps the rays won’t penetrate metal.’

‘Oh, they could. ‘I’d guess that a ray as powerful as that would cut through this ship as though it were made of butter.’

Vicki looked along the hull. All she could see were the scars of the battle in space. Yet even they proved something: that the Rills had weapons capable of a fair amount of destruction. Yet they had not used them at close quarters. She shrugged the puzzle away. There was probably a good reason, though she could not even guess at it. ‘Shouldn’t we be going?’

‘Yes, yes, by all means.’

They set off in the direction indicated by Maaga, with no idea of what they would find or how they would cope with it. Yet, as was usual with the Doctor, all that could be done was to press on. He did so, his eyes bright with curiosity. Offered no choice, Vicki went with him.

Steven sat at the table and pondered on the Drahvins. Such beautiful creatures, yet so totally lacking in warmth. It seemed to him a shameful waste. What sort of being wilfully created women like these? They were fit only to obey orders and that was probably their only reason for existing at all. Still, he supposed it was better to have mindless minions rather than intelligent ones who might start asking awkward questions. The better the mind, the more likely it was to start trouble, a fact well known to all dictators on Earth, who had long made it their practice to take the minds of the young and manipulate them to their own devious ends. Freedom of thought can have dangerous consequences. They never allowed any such thing.

He was achieving nothing by silence. He addressed Drahvin Three who chanced to be nearest. ‘D’you mind if I have some food? I’m famished.’

She glanced at him coolly, then crossed to a cabinet and took out a tin. From this she shook out two tablets and dropped them into his outstretched palm. ‘Eat.’

‘No, no,’ he said. ‘You misunderstand. I haven’t got a headache. I’m hungry.’

‘That is our food. It is good.’

He looked down at the pills and felt his hunger leaving him. There was no way in the world those things were going to do him any good. What he felt more inclined to was a good beef roast with potatoes and greens on the side and plenty of gravy, preferably followed up by something light, such as strawberries and cream. What good were these things? He looked gloomily up at Drahvin Three. ‘I’ll bet Maaga doesn’t eat these.’

‘No. She is our leader.’

‘Then I’ll try what she has, if you don’t mind.’ ‘You cannot. It is food for leaders only.’

He stared narrowly into the vacancy of her face. ‘That doesn’t seem very fair, does it?’

She was confused. ‘Fair?’

He began to feel that he was achieving something, however slight. The thing to do was to keep going while he had the edge, to try and stir up a little resentment, if possible. ‘Why should she have special food while you have to eat junk like this?’

She looked at the tablets. ‘It is food.’

‘Oh, sure,’ he needled. ‘Great stuff. I can see it going down well with a touch of salt and vinegar, or perhaps a little salad dressing. I suppose Maaga has lots of other special things as well?’

‘She is our leader and has leader’s things.’ ‘Like what?’ he asked.

‘Her gun, her food, her – ‘

‘Her gun?’ he cut in.

Drahvin Three nodded. ‘A leader’s gun can destroy anything.’

‘Even the Chumblies?’

‘I do not understand.’ It was a statement of fact. No confusion showed on her face and nor did anything else.

‘The machines,’ he said. ‘The robots. Those things that keep banging about here all the time, trying to get at you.’

‘They too can be destroyed.’

‘Then surely it would be better if you all had these guns. You wouldn’t have to fear the machines then, would you?’

‘There is only one. Maaga has it because she is the leader.’

Her logic, he felt, was impeccable. She had obviously been reared to believe in only one set of values and anything not fitting was to be dismissed.

Well, if Maaga and her companions could do it, why shouldn’t he try the same? After all, there was little to be lost and a good deal to gain if he could disrupt this cosy little arrangement. ‘You could use it when you went out on patrol though.’

She gave an almost imperceptible pause. ‘Yes.’ ‘Then doesn’t it seem right that you should?’

The curtain came down again. ‘Only if Maaga says so.’

Steven sighed inwardly. Always he came up against the brick wall that was Maaga and her rules. There had to be a way round it, but he was not having much luck in finding it. Still, he thought, onward. ‘If you took it and went out against the machines and destroyed one, then Maaga would be pleased with you.’

‘She would.’

‘Then you should take her gun and that would make her happy.’ He spoke as though to a child, which he estimated she pretty well was. He held out his hand. ‘Give me your gun while you go and get hers, then we’ll destroy the machines together.’