Doctor Who: The Mark of the Rani (5 page)

‘Lord Ravensworth!’

The Doctor was calling from the pit shaft.

‘Can you arrange for that poor fellow to be brought to the surface?’

‘You should co-operate with me, you know,’ the Master told the Rani. ‘The Doctor’s had two run-ins with the results of your handiwork.’

She was disconnecting Tim Bass from the computer.

The Master persisted. ‘He won’t tolerate someone deliberately playing havoc with his favourite planet.’

‘Can’t you get it into your warped skull that there is nothing deliberate about it! The aggression’s an unfortunate side effect.’

‘Unfortunate? Fortuitous would be a more apposite epithet!’

‘Put it how you like. I need the chemical. The only source is the human brain.’ Careful to spill none of the small amount of liquid, she began to tip it from the crystal flagon into the phial. ‘It can have no relevance to you or your machinations.’

‘Ah, but then, as yet you are not apprised of my purpose in being here.’ He was registering the extreme caution with which she performed the task.

‘To destroy the Doctor. You’ve never had any other. It obsesses you to the exclusion of all else.’

He was amused; did this arid, calculating chemist think his plans were that naive? ‘You underestimate me.

Certainly I want to destroy the Doctor. To see him suffer.

But that will be an exquisite preliminary step. I have a greater concept. A concept that will encompass the whole human race!’

The Rani studied him like a specimen on a slide.

‘You’re unbalanced.’ She resealed the phial. ‘No wonder the Doctor always outwits you!’

The Master’s euphoria vanished. In an angry sweep, he whipped the phial from her grasp.

It had the desired effect. ‘Give that to me!’ she cried.

Relishing the anxiety in her voice, he examined the contents. ‘Don’t get much, do you?’

‘There’s only a minute amount in each brain.’

Prudence tempered her response; the fluid represented all she had achieved to date; goad him, and the volatile wretch would have no compunction about spilling the lot.

‘Why does extracting this make humans so aggressive?’

She remained mute. She did not want to share anything with the megalomaniac. Most of all the secrets of her research.

But the Master had the initiative. He began to tip the phial. ‘I’ll not ask again...’

Her reply was prompt. ‘Because without that chemical the brain cannot rest.’

A beatific smile. ‘Ah, now I understand. You need it for your aliens.’

The sharp reaction betrayed her surprise.

‘On Miasimia Goria.’ He was savouring her confusion.

More than just pique caused the flush on her cheeks at the mention of Miasimia Goria. She had striven to keep her conquest of the planet concealed.

He could not resist needling her. ‘Oh, I dropped in on your domain before following you here. Chaos! Complete mayhem! What went wrong?’

‘Wrong? Who said anything went wrong?’

‘You rule there. Absolutely. I assume one of your schemes didn’t turn out quite as you expected.’

The Rani was defensive. ‘An insignificant affair. In the process of heightening the awareness of my aliens, I lowered their ability to sleep. They became –’

‘– difficult to control. On the other hand, with this...’ –

he jiggled the precious brain fluid – ’and those impregnated parasites, their talents are yours to command.

Such power...’ Intoxicating possibilities presented themselves. ‘Is that a scanner?’ He rapped an opaque screen on an intricate display deck.

The Rani was still smarting, ‘Find out!’

Deliberately, he unsealed the phial, allowing a droplet of the fluid to teeter on the brink. It was enough. The Rani switched on the scanner. ‘Who do you want?’

‘The Doctor.’

‘Where did you see him last?’

‘At the pit.’

She pressed three tabs, setting the co-ordinates. A magenta corona outlined the circumference, bathing the screen in a rosy hue. But the image that hardened into detail was that of a sad cortege.

Stretcher borne, draped in a blanket, Rudge’s corpse was being carried from the pit shaft when the Doctor halted its progress.

Deferentially, he raised the blanket to inspect the left side of Rudge’s neck. Then, while the bewildered Lord Ravensworth and Peri watched nonplussed, he inspected the necks of the stretcher bearers.

‘What the blazes are you doing?’

His lordship’s exasperation simmered over. Peri could have told him to save his breath!

‘Do you hear me? What was that all about, man?’

‘Later. You said the son of one of my attackers worked here?’

The request, without a trace of rudeness, disconcerted Ravensworth. ‘Yes. Yes. Luke Ward. George Stephenson’s apprentice. Very capable young man. Spotted him when he was just a lad. My protege, as it happ –’

The Doctor cut in. ‘Find him for me, there’s a good chap.’

The novel role of errand boy flabbergasted the peer of the realm. He glared after the receding figure in the multicoloured jacket making for his office.

‘The dratted man’s a positive law unto himself!’

The Master and the Rani had observed all this on the scanner.

‘You see, we
do
have an allied cause,’ he said to her.

‘Unless you eliminate the Doctor, he’ll bring this cosy operation to an end.’

She accepted the analysis. The Doctor would dig and delve until he’d solved the puzzle. She would have to get rid of him. ‘Then let’s get on with it!’

‘My way!’ The Master’s tone was firm. ‘We do it my way!’ He intended to impose the strategy. The precious phial that she had treasured was going to ensure his domination. ‘Any idea where those morons you created might be?’

She jabbed the tabs to reset the co-ordinates.

The scene changed from the pit to a dark, disused mine.

Crawling along the low tunnels were Jack Ward, Edwin Green and several miners. Every now and then, with grubby knuckles, they rubbed the crimson marks that scarred their necks.

Having noted the co-ordinates and seen all he wanted, the Master abruptly strode from the laboratory into the bath chamber.

‘Where are you going?’ No reply. ‘The brain fluid!’

‘Perfectly safe.’ Ostentatiously, the Master tucked the phial into his breast pocket. ‘Next to my hearts. Both of them.’ He disappeared into the hallway.

Extracting something from her skirt pouch, the Rani stalked furiously across the chamber. As she flounced into the hallway – a hand clapped onto her wrist. Anticipating her pursuit, the Master had diverted into an alcove.

When she made no attempt to get free, his suspicions increased. She was being uncharacteristically supine. What was she clutching? He prised her fingers apart, revealing a pill box.

‘They’re capsules for my lungs. The earth’s damp atmosphere affects them.’

A plausible explanation.

Even so, the wily Master was sceptical. He flipped the lid. The box contained an assortment of pills.

‘Do you trust anyone?’

‘Yes. Myself. Capsules they may be. But don’t touch them until that door closes between us!’ He exited into the street.

Glowering after him, the Rani snapped shut the pill box.

With his departure, her alleged need of a capsule had also gone.

A ruse? He obviously thought so. The incident demonstrated the mutual lack of faith binding the Time Lords. Hardly an auspicious beginning to the proposed alliance.

7

Despite his objections to the Doctor’s autocratic manner, Lord Ravensworth had brought Luke Ward. Or, to be more precise, he had despatched a messenger for him.

Luke could truly be called a golden boy. Tall, fair-haired, the eighteen year old exuded honesty and intelligence. It was not difficult to comprehend Ravensworth’s pride in his protégé.

He had submitted to the barrage of questions with worried concern. But, as yet, none of his replies had given the Doctor a lead. His father’s reported violent behaviour was completely inexplicable.

However, the Doctor persisted. ‘And you’re certain your father was perfectly normal this morning?’

‘The lad’s told you he was!’ Lord Ravensworth was losing patience with the inquisition.

‘I know, I know. Bear with me. The answer’s probably staring me in the face and I just can’t see it.’

Realising that escape from Killingworth depended on the Doctor unravelling the mystery, Peri joined in. ‘When did you last talk to your father, Luke?’

‘When he came off shift. He were on’t way to bath house.’

‘Bath house?’

‘To get cleaned up.’ Luke failed to understand the Doctor’s evident excitement.

‘Doctor, you recall when we passed the bath house–’

‘Luke, can you find me an old coat and cap?’ This was not really a request.

‘Aye, in’t lobby, but...’ Luke’s orders usually came from Ravensworth. His lordship gave a fatalistic shrug. ‘Do as he says.’

‘Doctor, when we passed the bath house, that gadget of yours –’ Again Peri was interrupted.

‘Reacted. Yes. Yes. I said it had been staring me in the face, didn’t I? It was! Literally!’ Discarding his own jacket, he accepted the soiled coat Luke had collected from the lobby.

‘I guess I should, but I don’t get it.’

‘Glad it’s not just me!’ Ravensworth said fretfully.

‘Those men who attacked me. They didn’t look as if they’d come straight from the pit, did they?’ He struggled into the coat. ‘They were clean!’

As if this explained everything, he dashed from the office.

Of the baffled trio, Ravensworth was the first to give voice. ‘Is he often like this?’

‘Too often. Excuse me.’ Peri scooted out of the door.

She did not have far to go. The Doctor was rubbing his hands on the ground and transferring the dirt to his temples.

‘Would you mind telling me what’s going on?’

‘I’m about to follow– as you would term it – a hunch.’

A reply that told her nothing. A sigh of resignation.

‘Okay, where do I fit in?’

‘You stay here where you’ll be safe.’

That did it!
‘Safe!
From the moment I stepped into the TARDIS I haven’t been safe!’

‘How do I look?’ Nose, forehead, cheeks and ears were smudged with coal dust. His teeth gleamed white as he grinned at Peri.

‘Like a man who could do with a bath.’

Pleased with her reply, he donned the cap with a flourish and set off.

Little did the Rani know she was about to receive yet another unwelcome visitor. She was too preoccupied.

Circled by the rosy hue on the scanner, the Master could be seen exploring the eerie disused mine. Shale scrunched beneath his polished shoes. The rotting pit props supporting the uneven roof were meshed with cobwebs that adhered to his gloves.

‘A rat hole,’ he muttered in disgust.

‘Then you should be at home!’ thought his unseen observer as she realigned the contrast.

He moved cautiously... alert... listening. He had no desire to come upon the aggressive miners unawares.

The scuff of a foot on rubble from deeper within. The Master paused... felt for the TCE.

‘I told you to wait, you cretins!’ murmured the Rani.

‘Wait until he’s nearer. He’s armed!’

The steely command revealed that the Master had underestimated the Rani. When she had plundered the miners’ brains, she had also made them her vassals.

Through an implant in their necks, she could communicate instructions. Her erstwhile partner was walking into an ambush.

All was quiet. He ventured on.

‘
Now!
’ hissed the Rani.

In sudden, simultaneous action, Jack Ward leapt from his hiding place, cutting off the rear, and Edwin Green dropped from a ledge. He landed on top of the Master, howling him over. Before he could recover, the agile Green pounced again, locking his opponent in a grip that prevented him from using the TCE. Frantically, the Master wrestled to get free. The writhing bodies scrunched into the rough shale.

But the Rani, too, had miscalculated. Instead of succumbing swiftly, the Master was giving an able account of himself. Her all-important phial was in danger of being crushed between the combined weights. The brain fluid would be spilt!

Yanking a mini-transmitter from her skirt pouch, she hurriedly tapped out a code. A micro-second later, breaking from the clinch, Green clutched at his neck.

Choked. Tore at the crimson mark.

To no avail.

The crimson spread... slowly... remorselessly... painfully strangling Green to death...

‘"The Mark of the Rani.’ The Master had correctly surmised that the fatal crimson mark was the Rani’s deadly signature. Her obscene ingenuity made him more determined than ever to conscript her talents.

‘Is he dead?’ Jack Ward broke in on his thoughts.

The Master nodded. Already he was devising a scheme to turn the situation to his own advantage. If he could persuade these homicidal idiots that the Doctor had caused their companion to die... ‘I warned you that inventor was treacherous. I told you to get rid of him.’

Jack Ward was perplexed. ‘But he’s not nowhere near.’

‘He doesn’t have to be. He’s got a machine that does his foul work for him.’ Prepared for Ward’s answer, he pulled out paper and pen.

‘A machine?’

‘I’ll show you.’ He began to draw on the paper.

The Rani adjusted the controls, but was unable to bring the sketch into focus. ‘What’s he up to now?’

A loud hammering on the street door.

‘It’ll be something devious and overcomplicated.’

Switching off the scanner, she quit the laboratory. ‘He’d get dizzy if he tried to walk a straight line!’

But in the gloom of the old mine, the Master knew exactly what he was doing. He had drawn a sketch of the Doctor’s TARDIS.

‘What’s that?’ Ward snatched the paper. ‘A coffin?’

‘A coffin?’ The appropriate description amused the Master. ‘It’s the machine that killed your friend.’

‘That thing?’

‘Can you offer a better explanation?’

‘Nay.’ Ward’s inner turmoil welled into anger again.

‘Nay, I can’t.’