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DOCTOR WHO AND THE REVENGE OF THE CYBERMEN Page 4


  Kellman opened the door, and was about to slip inside when Lester came running down the corridor. The momentary distraction was enough. Instinctively Kellman swung his blaster toward the new arrival, and Stevenson promptly jumped him, grabbing his wrist and wrenching the blaster downward. Lester joined in the struggle, and within minutes Kellman was disarmed and overpowered. None too gently, Stevenson and Lester dragged him off down the corridor.

  In the transmat cubicle in a tunnel deep inside Voga, Harry flicked frantically at the reciprocator switch that was supposed to return them to Nerva Beacon. Sarah, cured but confused, stood beside him watching his efforts. Since she had no memory of what had happened between her being 'bitten' by the Cybermat and recovering consciousness on Voga, she had been understandably taken aback to find herself in a transmat cubicle in a dimly lit mining gallery. The Doctor's unorthodox cure had certainly worked. The spider web lines had disappeared from her face, her temperature was back to normal and she was completely her old self again. She was well enough to get very impatient with standing in a cubicle watching Harry Sullivan struggle with a useless switch.

  'For goodness' sake, Harry, how long are we going to stand here?'

  'Until this thing starts working again. Strict instructions from the Doctor. We're staying here.'

  'I wouldn't be too sure of that, Harry' There was something different in the tone of Sarah's voice, and Harry looked up. Two bulging-eyed, dome-headed humanoid creatures in military uniforms were standing over them, blasters aimed. Harry sighed, and slowly raised his hands.

  Meanwhile, in the control room back on Nerva, Beacon, Kellman, battered but still defiant, was glaring at his three captors in obstinate silence. The Doctor waved toward the picture of Voga, still punched up on the vision screen. 'There's Voga, you see, Commander, what remains of it, and not far away, I fancy, are what remain of the Cybermen.'

  Lester scratched his head. 'You mean the Cybermen followed that rock into our star system—why?'

  'To destroy it. That meteorite is all that's left of Voga, once known as the Planet of Gold. The planet was broken up by the Cybermen, just before their defeat in the Cyberwar. They can't rest till this last fragment is shattered too.'

  'Why is it so important to them?' asked Stevenson.

  The Doctor's voice was solemn. 'Because the Cybermen hate gold. It's lethal to them. It's the perfect noncorrodable metal. It plates their breathing apparatus, and, in effect, suffocates them. Doesn't it, Professor?'

  Kellman made no reply. He gazed straight ahead, a faint sneer on his face. The Doctor's tall figure loomed over him menacingly. 'My two friends, Harry and Sarah, are stranded on Voga, thanks to you. I can't bring them back without the pentalion drive. Where is it?'

  Kellman still didn't speak. The Doctor turned to Lester. 'You said you searched his cabin after you caught him?'

  Lester nodded. He pointed to a jumble of equipment on top of one of the control panels. 'That's all we found.'

  The Doctor looked at the pile. 'Yes, I saw that earlier. Equipment to contact his masters, more equipment to spy on his colleagues. But what have you done with the pentalion drive, Kellman?'

  For the first time, Kellman deigned to reply. 'I'm sorry, I've no idea what you're talking about.'

  The Doctor looked at him thoughtfully. 'You're lying, Professor, I'm sure of that. But why?' He wandered to the pile of Kellman's equipment, and began idly sorting through it. He fished a little box from beneath the pile and turned it over in his hands. Complex controls were set into one side.

  Irritably Kellman snapped, 'What are you doing? That's part of my surveying equipment. Leave it alone.'

  The Doctor ignored him, and went on idly fiddling with the little box. He glanced at Lester and Stevenson. 'I think our mercenary friend here is lying to gain time. But time for what, I wonder?'

  Kellman shot him a look of pure hatred, but made no reply. He seemed unable to take his eyes from the box in the Doctor's hands.

  On the control deck of the Cybermen's space-ship, the leader was listening to a report from his engineer. In his sibilant, whispering voice the engineer said, 'Computer reports energy-discharge between Nerva Beacon and Voga.' There was no emotion in the mechanical voice. Cybermen do not have feelings.

  The Cyberleader's reply was equally toneless. 'Then the humans have used their transmat beam?'

  'The inference is logical, leader.'

  'That was not in the plan. Time to docking?'

  'Sixteen minutes, leader.'

  The silver giant rose to his feet, towering in the spaceship cabin. 'Order the boarding party to the forward hatch. I shall lead the attack myself.'

  In the ornately decorated Guild Room on Voga, Vorus sat brooding behind his massive desk. After a moment, the big golden doors swung open and Magrik scurried in. He stood nervously before the desk, and bowed his head. 'You sent for me?'

  Vorus said flatly, 'The Cybermen are on the move.'

  Immediately Magrik panicked. 'But it is too soon. We are not ready...'

  'Our agent reported some time ago. Since then, he has been silent. We can wait for news no longer. You have, perhaps, four hours to complete the Skystriker.'

  'That is impossible, Vorus!'

  'Four hours, no more, Magrik, or else all our dreams are ended.'

  Desperately Magrik tried to explain. 'The Skystriker is almost ready, but the bomb has yet to be tested. It will take four hours or more to fit, and with the time for the tests as well....'

  Vorus rose behind his desk, towering over the little engineer. 'Fit the bomb immediately. It will be tested when it strikes the Beacon. Do you understand?'

  Magrik gave a sigh of assent. 'It shall be as you say, Vorus. I will call every available engineer to the bunkers. We shall begin at once.'

  As Magrik left, Vorus called after him, 'Tell the guards to bring in the humans who were captured in the tunnels.'

  When Harry and Sarah were brought in through the golden doors, Vorus ignored them for a moment or two, carrying on with his work. Flanked by two huge armed security guards, the human captives looked curiously around the richly decorated Guild Room. There were hangings, drapes, shields and ornaments everywhere. Most of them, like the big doors they had just come through, appeared to be made from solid gold. They looked at the humanoid creature behind the desk. It had the same high, dome-shaped forehead and bulging luminous eyes as the guards who had captured them. But the rich robes and the multiplicity of gold ornaments indicated that he was a high-ranking member of this strange underground race.

  The waiting began to get on Sarah's nerves. She leaned closer to Harry and whispered, 'Wish he'd get on with it. The Doctor will be worried about us.'

  'I'm worried about us,' whispered Harry. 'What is this place anyway?'

  Sarah looked over her shoulder, and then glanced again at the alien behind the desk. 'I can tell you what it isn't—it isn't uninhabited.'

  Their whispering irritated Vorus, and he looked up angrily. 'Bring the prisoners to me.' The guards shoved Harry and Sarah forward until they were standing just in front of him. Vorus looked at them coldly. 'So—you are from the Beacon.' It was a statement, not a question. 'Why have you come to Voga? Was it to escape the plague?'

  Hesitantly Sarah said, 'Well, yes, it was because of the plague...'

  Vorus leaped to his feet. 'You lie. The truth is that you came to steal our gold.'

  'I'm not lying,' said Sarah spiritedly. 'You see I got the plague and...'

  'You lie!' shouted Vorus again. 'If you had caught the plague you would be dead by now. That was the plan.'

  Vorus was almost incoherent with rage, and they could make little sense of his outburst. Harry seized on the last word of Vorus's speech. 'Plan? You planned these deaths?' He sounded almost as angry as the alien.

  Sarah tried to calm things down. 'We arrived on the Beacon after the plague had started. Then I was bitten, and the Doctor put me in the transmat beam to cure me, didn't he, Harry?'

  'That'
s right. I only came along to help. If the transmat had worked we'd have gone straight back. We've no intention of stealing your ruddy gold.'

  Vorus came round his desk and stalked menacingly up to them—like some great cat bearing down on two mice, thought Sarah. His voice was harsh and threatening. 'Why did you come here? How many humans are on the Beacon now? What is their plan? What do the know of us here on Voga?'

  Harry and Sarah exchanged glances. Neither of them spoke. Neither had any intention of giving information about Nerva Beacon to these alien creatures, particularly as they seemed to be somehow implicated in the spreading of the faked plague.

  Their silence drove Vorus into a frenzy. His eyes seemed to blaze with rage. 'When Vorus, Leader of the Guardians, asks questions, it is not wise to refuse to answer.' Still Harry and

  Sarah said nothing. Vorus made a sign to the guards who grabbed their arms and twisted them cruelly. 'If you do not answer my questions you will suffer,' he hissed. 'When the guards have done with you I shall ask again, and you will be eager to answer me.' At a nod from Vorus the guards twisted harder, and Sarah and Harry both gasped in pain. Vorus smiled cruelly. 'Well, humans—are you ready to speak?'

  5

  Rebellion!

  Sarah felt as if her arm were being torn from its socket. She clenched her teeth in an effort not to scream. Dimly, she was aware of Harry, struggling to break free from his guard. Suddenly a melodious chime rang through the council chamber. Immediately the scene froze. Everyone stopped moving. It was obvious that the chime had great importance for the Vogans. It rang out again, louder and more imperious. Vorus waved angrily at the guards. 'Remove them. Take them to the place of confinement. I will question them later.' Sarah and Harry were dragged out.

  Vorus waited until the golden doors had closed behind them, then touched a control button on his desk. One wall slid completely away to reveal a giant screen. The picture on the wall showed a room, smaller and far simpler than the one in which Vorus stood. It was bare and functional, completely without ostentation. In it another Vogan sat working at a simple table. He was small and slender, dressed in plain dark robes. He looked out of the screen at Vorus and said mildly, 'Ah, there you are, Vorus. There are matters of importance I must discuss with you.'

  Vorus frowned. 'Indeed, Councillor Tyrum?' He waited expectantly.

  'Not over the vision projector,' said Tyrum. 'You must come to me here, in the city.'

  'I am not aware of any matters of such urgency...'

  'But I am,' interrupted Tyrum calmly. 'As always, Vorus, I look forward to our meeting with the keenest pleasure. I am sending our fastest skimmer to collect you.' He touched a control and the screen went dark, leaving Vorus glaring angrily at its blankness. For the hundredth time, Vorus wondered how Tyrum always made him feel so ineffectual. The summons was worrying, coming at such a crucial time. Nevertheless, Vorus dared not disobey. One of Tyrum's gentle requests had the force of a royal command. For all his mildness, Tyrum was someone to be reckoned with. As President of the High Council, he was the most powerful being on all Voga. Resentfully, Vorus began making preparations for his journey. The interrogation of the two captive humans would have to wait.

  Harry and Sarah were taken to a cave just off one of the main tunnels. It was damp and dark, the walls and roof festooned with long, spear-like stalactites. Roughly the guards fastened them to chains set into the rock walls, then left without a word. Sarah slumped despondently against the wall, struggling in vain to find a comfortable position. Harry looked around him with keen interest. 'I say, old girl, look at those glittering bits in these rocks. All top-grade ore, that. We're prisoners in a gold mine.'

  Sarah wriggled into a new position, and found it even less comfortable. 'That's great. If they leave us here, we'll die rich.'

  Harry clanked his chains experimentally. 'These chains are gold too—seems to be the only metal they use.'

  'Harry, will you shut up about the rotten gold?' muttered Sarah crossly.

  'Twenty-four carat, I should think,' Harry added.

  'Harry, please. It's because of the gold that we're in this mess. The stuff's no use to us, is it?'

  'It might be,' said Harry mysteriously. 'How?'

  'What I mean is, gold's a pretty soft metal, you see. If we can find a decent bit of rock we might be able to break these chains.'

  Sarah cheered up at the prospect of action. 'Well, I suppose it's worth a try. Can't just sit here counting our money, can we?'

  By slumping into a painful half-sitting position, they found they could just about reach the rock floor beneath them. After some painful contortions, Harry managed to get his hands on a piece of rock about the size of a grapefruit. Using it as a crude hammer, he started bashing away at Sarah's leg chains with rather more enthusiasm than care.

  'Hey, watch it,' yelled Sarah, as a particularly vigorous thump caught her a painful crack on the shin.

  'Sorry, old girl,' panted Harry. 'Difficult to get a good aim all twisted around like this.' He peered at the gold loop round Sarah's ankle. 'I think I'm flattening it though.'

  'You're flattening me, more like it. Be a bit more careful.'

  'All in a good cause,' said Harry cheerfully. He hammered away determinedly, ignoring Sarah's occasional yells of protest. At last he stopped and took another look. 'You know, I think you could almost get your foot free now. Give it a try.'

  He pulled off Sarah's shoe and took a grip on her leg chain. Sarah tugged her leg back with all the force she could manage. The ankle loop still felt agonizingly tight.

  'Go on, heave,' said Harry encouragingly.

  'It hurts!'

  'Don't worry about that, just keep on pulling. If you didn't have ankles like a horse...'

  'My ankles are not thick,' gasped Sarah indignantly. She gave a final angry heave, and her foot came free.

  'Well done,' said Harry. 'Now let's have a go at the other one.'

  The second loop came free far more easily, the wristloops followed. and soon Sarah was out of her chains altogether. She stood and stretched luxuriously, rubbing her wrists and ankles in turn.

  'Don't just stand there,' reminded Harry. 'Have a go at getting mine off.'

  Sarah looked around. 'Hang on, I've a better idea.' She crossed to a jutting spear of rock, and after a struggle managed to snap it free from its base. 'Now if we use this as a chisel and the rock as a hammer...'

  With the improved tools the work went much more quickly, and soon Harry was standing free beside Sarah, though not without sustaining a few bruises in the process. He hopped about protestingly. 'Oh my goodness. I think I'm maimed for life.'

  'I don't know what you're complaining about, the way you whacked at me... sshh!'

  They both heard a low humming noise, coming nearer. Harry grabbed Sarah's hand. 'Come on—we'd better run for it!'

  They dashed out of the cave and ran full speed down the mine galleries.

  A few minutes later, a hover car full of security guards pulled up outside the caves, and an armed guard came in to check on the prisoners. He saw the broken chains and called his squad. They jumped out of the car and began a methodical search for the missing captives.

  Commander Stevenson had been hammering away at Kellman for what seemed ages now, but the prisoner showed no signs of breaking down. He sat slumped on a stool, gazing straight ahead, either ignoring the Commander's questions, or at best making some brief, sneering reply. The Doctor was lounging in a corner of the control room, following the interrogation keenly, but taking no part in it. Lester looked on impatiently. The brawny crewman was wishing that the Commander would turn Kellman over to him for a few minutes, let him thump some answers out of the man.

  Commander Stevenson, at the end of his patience, decided on tougher measures. He drew his blaster and cocked it, leveling it at Kellman's head. 'Nerva Beacon is on full Red One alert—the equivalent to a time of war. As Station Commander under these conditions, there are certain crimes where I can order immediate execut
ion.'

  Kellman gazed ahead, saying nothing.

  In a voice shaking with anger Stevenson said, 'You have murdered forty-seven of my men. You have jeopardised the success of this Beacon's mission.'

  Kellman glanced up at him. 'You're talking absolute rubbish.'

  Stevenson jammed the blaster to Kellman's head. 'What's it going to be, Kelknan? Will you tell us where you've hidden the pentalion drive, or do you prefer to die here and now?'

  Kellman yawned. 'You're not frightening me, Commander. You won't shoot.'

  'I have every right to shoot you here and now—'

  'Maybe you have. But you won't do it.' Kellman's voice was quietly complacent. He'd come to know the Commander well during his tour of duty on Nerva Beacon. He knew that Stevenson was simply incapable of shooting him down in cold blood, however great the provocation.

  Stevenson knew it too. He sighed and lowered the blaster. With a weary persistence he returned to the attack. He nodded to the little box, still in the Doctor's hands. 'The Doctor says that thing controls the Cybermats.'

  For the first time Kellman showed signs of tension. He snapped, 'Well, I say it's an instrument for analysing mineral elements. Every exographer carries one.'

  The Doctor spoke for the first time. 'You're still lying, Professor Kellman,' he said mildly.

  'Can you prove it?' sneered Kellman.

  'Why, yes, I believe I can. I think I've finally got the hang of your little toy.' The Doctor made a few adjustments to the box's controls, and it hummed faintly. Kellman's eyes widened, but he still didn't speak. For a moment nothing happened. Then Lester gave a yell and leaped back as a Cybermat appeared at a duct near his feet, and slid silently into the room. Lester grabbed for the blaster in his belt. But the Cybermat ignored him. It swiveled round on its own axis as if scanning the room, its eyes glowing red. Stevenson aimed his blaster at it, but the Doctor, the box still in his hands, caught his eye and gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Stevenson stood quite still. The Cybermat ignored him. It ignored the Doctor too, halting only when it turned to face Kellman, who crouched terrified on his stool in the corner. Remorselessly the Cybermat glided toward him.