Winner Takes All (19 page)

Anil kept calling across bits and pieces from his Internet search, distracting Mickey even further. ‘I've found one person who's playing the game right now!' he suddenly yelled, making Mickey lose his train of thought completely. And he couldn't even ask the Doctor to repeat himself. Still, the Doctor was obviously following what they were doing; he'd work out where Mickey'd gone wrong.

‘Right!' Mickey called back. ‘Tell him you've got some sure-fire cheat codes or something. Tell him to jump his bloke around a bit. Then tell him you're going to send him a series of instructions and he's got to follow them to the letter. Persuade him somehow, I don't care what you say.'

There was a ping from the computer. ‘Instant message,' said Anil. There was a pause while he read it. ‘This bloke says he bought his console from alienkiller 1984,' he said. ‘Well, sort of.'

‘But there wasn't time!' said Mickey.

‘Bought it down the pub,' said Anil. ‘From Darren Pye.'

Kevin and Jason looked up. ‘You didn't say Darren Pye was involved in all this!' said Jason, sounding like someone trying not to sound scared.

‘I can deal with Darren Pye,' said Mickey, with the confidence of someone who's recently heard that the person in question is on another planet. ‘Yeah, all right, he's really alienkiller 1984.'

‘He says he bought the console off Darren down the pub for a tenner,' said Anil, continuing to read, ‘and then later Darren comes back, offering to buy it back for twenty. This guy refuses, and Darren tells him it's for really killing aliens, and he's going to make a fortune off the Internet. But he thought Darren was a nutter and wouldn't give it him.'

‘Whatever, keep telling him he's got to do what you say,' said Mickey. ‘You've got to persuade him to follow your instructions, right?'

‘All right,' said Anil, sounding doubtful. ‘But if he's the sort of man who tells Darren Pye where to get off . . .'

‘Just give it a go,' said Mickey.

‘Hey!' shouted Jason. ‘I can see someone!'

Mickey turned to look at the screen. There was a shape in the distance. As he watched, it became clearer, became an image of a short, slim, pretty girl with long blonde hair. She was holding a mobile phone to her ear. Rose.

‘Here,' said Jason, ‘that's that Rose Tyler! The one who –' He stopped, shooting a glance at Mickey.

‘She's been kidnapped by aliens and forced to do their bidding,' said Mickey.

‘Oh, right,' said Jason. ‘What do I do now?'

Mickey turned his attention back to Rose's voice coming from his phone, and began to pass on the Doctor's instructions again.

‘He says he won't. He's been playing all day and this time he's determined to win,' said Anil. ‘He's going to be the first person to complete the game, he's going to get the prize, and if he really is killing aliens then that's brilliant.'

Mickey sighed. It was all getting far too complicated.

Rose was padding down a tunnel. The Doctor's words were still pouring out of her mouth, and she was trying to listen to what she was saying. Mickey was jabbering on about stuff in her ear – she'd just heard him tell someone that she'd been kidnapped by aliens and forced to do their bidding.

Tell someone the straight truth, and they never believe you, she thought. They just think you're being sarcastic. Easier than making up a lie.

It sounded as if she was getting close to someone, anyway. She thought back to that afternoon – good grief, was it really only that afternoon? – and her and Mickey sitting in front of the screens in the Quevvils' base. The figures coming closer and closer. The sudden realisation. That would be her, now. On some screen, somewhere, she'd be a distant figure on a screen, getting closer and closer.

Rose's head turned. The Doctor was obviously searching for the other player. And she could see him now.

No – her.

The other player was a woman, a pretty black woman in her thirties, wearing a scarlet trouser suit. Her eyes were wide with terror. Rose wished she could call out something reassuring, let her know it was going to be OK, that she'd soon be out of here, but her mouth was still pouring out lefts and rights and straight-ons into the phone, and Rose could say nothing of her own volition.

The woman was getting closer and closer. ‘That's Mrs Nkomo,' Rose heard herself say. Mrs Nkomo was getting closer still.

‘Whoops,' said Mickey's voice in her ear, as Mrs Nkomo, eyes darting from side to side in alarm, ran straight into Rose.

The two players stared ahead as they were carefully positioned facing each other. Rose's hand found the sonic screwdriver and held it out in front of her. ‘Don't worry, Mrs Nkomo,' she found herself saying, the very words she'd wanted to force out. ‘We'll soon get you out of there. Rose here is going to disconnect a few things, then we're going to lead you out. Half an hour, tops, it'll all be over. Oooh, here comes someone else.'

Rose swivelled round. Approaching down a steep slope behind her was a middle-aged white man. ‘Apparently that's a Mr Johnson. He's been gone hours. Lucky man, the Mantodeans must've missed him. Come on, Rose,' said Rose, ‘let's get on with it.'

She was turned back to Mrs Nkomo, and the sonic screwdriver began its work.

Robert watched the map as two little white lights headed towards the outside. That left four white lights, apart from Rose, and six blue lights. No – five. Another blue light had gone out, another player had been found by the Mantodeans. He was trying not to think . . . Trying not to hope . . .

Not that he didn't have enough else to think about. Robert was calling out routes to the Doctor, as the Doctor, keeping his eyes on Rose, relayed them to someone called Mickey on the other end of the phone. Mickey, the Doctor said, used to go out with Rose, so Robert hated him.

‘That's it!' Robert said. ‘Both of them are out!' Mrs Nkomo and Mr Johnson were safe – well, safe-ish – at last. Thank goodness. Five white lights now (including Rose), five blue lights.

Suddenly there was a buzzing on the sort of intercom thing. Robert jumped. His mind was so full, so busy, so concentrated on the ten remaining tiny specks of light-life, that he'd almost forgotten where they were, that they were in a scary room in monster HQ.

‘This is Frinel,' said a voice. ‘Gerdix, the carrier appears to no longer be approaching the centre of the Mantodean stronghold. Why is this? You will report immediately.'

Robert looked at the Doctor, hoping against hope that he had a plan. What had they said before? Something about Robert being there to keep the Doctor in line. He had a feeling the Quevvils didn't bluff, either. If they came in and found what had happened, it would be goodbye, Robert.

But the Doctor seemed just as taken aback as Robert was. He jumped up, giving the control pad to Robert and telling him to keep an eye on things – and hurried over to the door. There was some sort of alien lock on it, but the Doctor didn't bother with that. Instead he began pushing cupboards and benches and anything he could find in front of it.

‘Gerdix!' said Frinel's voice again testily. ‘Gerdix, answer immediately!'

The Doctor's actions had only just been in time. The door rattled as someone tried to open it from the other side.

Frinel spoke again through the intercom. ‘Herryan reports she is unable to gain access to you. If I do not hear from Gerdix in the next thirty seconds, we will assume he has been overpowered. Extreme force will be deployed. All humans will be killed. Thirty.'

The Doctor and Robert exchanged glances. ‘I'm not human!' grumbled the Doctor. ‘I have already told them that.'

‘Twenty-eight,' said Frinel.

EIGHTEEN

M
ickey was still flustered. The panic stations of a few minutes ago had passed: Jason and Kevin had guided their players out of the Mantodean stronghold, and everything was plain sailing from then on. The Doctor had stopped giving him directions via Rose. But everything else had stopped too. Anil had stopped trying to persuade this guy to play the game the way they wanted, because he'd stopped responding to his messages.

There had still been a couple of consoles left untested, and Mickey had been itching to try them, fully aware that any delay could mean the difference between life and death for the person at the other end, but he'd had to wait for Jason or Kevin to get their player in place. Kevin got there first, and Mickey yanked out the connecting lead and plugged in the first of the remaining games. No go. He'd tried the next. The same. No stored game.

And so it had stopped, for now, until it was time for the last stage of the Doctor's plan. But he still had people's fates in his hands, which was hugely unfair. If he'd wanted that sort of responsibility he'd have become a doctor or a soldier or something. But he hadn't. Nobody had asked him if he'd wanted this. Rose had chosen to get mixed up in all this stuff, he'd just got caught in her slip-stream, and they all expected him to just get on with it. Well, actually the Doctor probably expected him to fail miserably. But no one had given him a choice. Ask, ‘Mickey, do you want to get involved in this saving the world stuff, yes or no?' and he'd say no. Who would? But when you're already involved, when you're in the middle of stuff, no decent human being could walk away. It really wasn't fair at all.

‘Is that it then?' asked Kevin. ‘Can we go home now?'

Mickey shook his head. ‘Nah. We've got the real work ahead of us now.' But as he sat there, flustered and thinking desperately, he hadn't a clue how they were going to do it.

‘Twenty-four.'

‘What are we going to do?' yelled Robert. ‘That thing –' he gestured at the Quevvil called Gerdix – ‘can't answer, it's frozen!'

The Doctor looked at Gerdix. Then he looked at Robert. ‘Control box!' he said suddenly.

Robert grabbed the silver control box, and passed it to the Doctor. The Doctor started poking around in it at top speed, speaking very fast at the same time. ‘This has roughly the same function as the control pad, and if I could modify that I can modify this. Wish I had my sonic screwdriver . . . There!'

‘Fifteen seconds.'

The Doctor waved the box at the Quevvil. It gave a faint shudder.

‘Reorganised the connections, like I did with Rose,' said the Doctor. ‘I expect it's quite unpleasant. Poor Rose. Come on, come on . . .'

‘Eight seconds.'

The Doctor kept jabbing away at the controls. Finally, after at least three lifetimes, the Quevvil responded.

‘Five seconds.'

Gerdix sprang over to the intercom with a grace that seemed totally inappropriate in a giant porcupine.

‘Four seconds.'

The Doctor kept manipulating the controls. The Quevvil reached up a paw and hit a button.

‘Three seconds.'

The Doctor did something that looked extremely complicated. Nothing happened.

‘Two seconds.'

‘Ah! I forgot . . .' The Doctor twisted a knob.

‘One second.'

‘Frinel, this is Gerdix.'

There was a snort from the other end. ‘Gerdix! Why have you not responded before? Why could Herryan not gain access?'

‘There was a . . . a power surge. We temporarily lost control of the communicator. And the door locks. And the controller was unable to command his carrier. All power is now restored. All functions will revert to normal.'

Robert waited with bated breath. Would it work?

Frinel replied, ‘Very well. We are anxious to see the carrier continue. You will proceed as planned.'

Robert grinned, and gave the Doctor a thumbs-up. The Doctor dropped the silver control box on the floor, and sighed deeply. ‘Making me sink to their level,' he muttered angrily. He thumped the chair arm, and kicked out with a foot, knocking the control box away. ‘This is too much! Making people dance around like puppets, making me take away every scrap of dignity of my best friend . . . I can tell you now, she won't be loving it. But I don't have a choice. Only way to get everyone out of there.'

Robert thought he was going to start smashing things again, even though the Quevvils were watching them. But instead the Doctor suddenly snorted, and Robert was surprised to see he was almost laughing. ‘Hark at me,' he said. ‘If I wanted to feel good about myself, go to bed with a little moral glow every night, then I'm in the wrong business. Come on, we've got work to do. Where's everyone at?'

And Robert looked back at the plan, and saw to his horror that there were only four blue lights left. The Mantodeans had claimed another victim.

Anil had, amazingly, been able to track down two more of the people who were actually playing the game now. He'd been coming up with some pretty convincing cover stories, and in one case someone's girlfriend had seen his messages while she was browsing the Internet, waiting for her boyfriend to ring her, and had texted him, only to find out he'd been playing
Death to Mantodeans
for the last hour. Someone else had popped online to check their emails, and found one of Anil's fake news stories that had been forwarded on by a friend. Mickey had his own mobile to one ear, and Jason's to the other, and was relaying the Doctor's instructions from one to Anil, back at the youth club, via the other.

Then Mickey had collected the lads' own console and the ‘live' one they'd found earlier, persuaded (black-mailed) Jason and Kevin to go with him, and they were about to do something that wasn't sensible at all.

He hadn't been able to resist glancing up at Rose's windows again as they left the youth club; his eyes were irresistibly drawn there. But there were still no signs of life. He didn't know why he'd half been expecting to see something. Jackie was still in hospital, as far as he knew, and Rose was . . . elsewhere. But when someone had a time machine, you couldn't help thinking they might turn up even when you knew they were somewhere else . . .