Doctor Who: Prisoner of the Daleks (15 page)

The Doctor was marched into a security room to be scanned again. Though he was naturally optimistic, even he had to admit that things weren't looking too good right now. He was uncomfortably reminded of an electric chair as he was forced to sit down in the machine.

The equipment hummed and circular screens around the scanning area filled with information as the Doctor was examined on a molecular level. Daleks roved around the room, checking instruments and displays. The atmosphere was electric, in more ways than one: the Doctor could tell that his arrival had really set the cat among the pigeons.

The Command Dalek glided forward. 'Y
OU WILL BE TAKEN TO A MAXIMUM-SECURITY HOLDING CHAMBER TO AWAIT FULL INTERROGATION
.'

'Really, I don't want to put you to any trouble...' said the Doctor.

'N
OTIFICATION OF YOUR CAPTURE HAS REACHED
S
KARO
.'

'Ah. Well, they say bad news travels fast.'

'T
HE
S
UPREME
D
ALEK HAS AUTHORISED THE
P
RIMARY
I
NTELLIGENCE
U
NIT TO EXTRACT ALL NECESSARY INTELLIGENCE VIA MIND PROBE EXTRACTION
. T
HE PROCEDURE WILL ULTIMATELY PROVE FATAL
. T
HE INTERROGATION WILL BE LED BY THE
D
ALEK
I
NQUISITOR
G
ENERAL
.'

The Doctor raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'You mean the Supreme Dalek has
sent
someone to question me? That's an insult. It's outrageous. The least he could do was come himself. Better fish to fry, has he?'

The Command Dalek's eye loomed large as it drew closer, the lights on its head flashing with calculated menace. 'T
HE
S
UPREME
D
ALEK IS FULLY ENGAGED DIRECTING THE WAR AGAINST
E
ARTH
! B
UT BY THE TIME THE
I
NQUISITOR
G
ENERAL HAS COMPLETED YOUR INTERROGATION, YOU WILL WISH THE
S
UPREME
D
ALEK HAD COME HERE
!'

Koral tried to blank Bowman from her mind. She had been consumed by rage and fear in the reception area, and it could have cost her everything. She had to stay alive and get back to him, somehow. The Doctor had diverted the Daleks' attention, but Koral knew it was only a temporary reprieve.

The base crackled with static electricity and the metallic air smelled of machine oil and hate. Cuttin' Edge could barely walk and he was forced to lean on Koral for support. They staggered slightly as the lift that carried them down into the prison vaults slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. The Daleks pushed them out onto a narrow walkway overlooking a vast cavern. Its rough-hewn walls rose up to a jagged, cathedral arch of stalactites.

It was incredibly hot. Emerging from the lift had been like stepping into an oven. As they moved down the ramp, descending through a layer of thick, searing mist, the ground suddenly came into view: irregular blocks of black granite separated by streams of bubbling, red-hot lava and volcanic slag.

And all around, everywhere, there were people: human beings manacled together and set to work with pickaxes and shovels, breaking rocks and carrying them to heavy, primitive barrows.

Floating through the clouds of steam and hovering over the glowing lava were Dalek guards, their bronze armour plate pockmarked and stained, their domes constantly revolving, looking for signs of trouble or weakness from the slaves. The blue eyes shone out of the burning haze with deadly, implacable purpose.

'W
ORK
U
NIT
D
ELTA
,' grated one of the Daleks. 'Y
OUR PRODUCTION RATE HAS DROPPED BELOW MINIMUM TOLERANCE
. Y
OUR OUTPUT IS UNSATISFACTORY
!'

Four men looked up fearfully as the Dalek approached. They were thin, emaciated, clearly exhausted – and all chained together. One of the men, a few wisps of grey hair left on his skull, simply sat down heavily on a nearby rock and put his face in his hands. 'I can't go on...'

'It's not our fault!' cried one of the other men. He was younger, healthier. He pointed at the weakened old man on the rock, his chains rattling as he moved. 'He's holding us all back. He can't work any longer. He's sick!'

'I
NEFFICIENT WORK UNITS WILL BE REPLACED
,' said the Dalek remorselessly.

Two more Daleks descended slowly to join the first. 'E
XTERMINATE
!'

They opened fire without another word, shooting all four members of the slave group. The men screamed and twisted in the blaze of energy and then sank into the lava. Within minutes, they had disappeared, leaving nothing but a layer of bubbling slime on the surface of the molten rock and the stench of roasting meat in the air.

'S
TEP FORWARD
,' ordered the Dalek who had brought Koral and Cuttin' Edge to the mine.

They shuffled forward, Koral trying to keep Cuttin' Edge on his feet. His legs were shaking as he tried to walk.

The mine Dalek swung around, glaring at them both for a long moment before saying, 'Y
OU WILL NOW BE
W
ORK
U
NIT
D
ELTA
.'

'This man is injured,' Koral pointed out. 'His legs have been damaged. He cannot work.'

'T
HEN HE WILL BE EXTERMINATED
!'

'No, wait!' cried Cuttin' Edge, raising a hand. 'Wait. I'll be OK. I can work.'

'C
AN YOU STAND UNAIDED
?' grated the Dalek.

'Yeah.'

Cuttin' Edge let go of Koral's arm. His teeth were bared – he was clearly in great pain – but he managed to stand on his own two feet. Koral could see that Cuttin' Edge simply wasn't going to give the Daleks the satisfaction of killing of him.

'S
ATISFACTORY
,' droned the Dalek.

Cuttin' Edge smiled through the pain.

'Damn right.'

Bowman paced back and forth like a wild animal in a cage. The cell was no more than a few metres square, solid walls and floor. No windows. A harsh white light beat down on his head.

Two narrow benches ran along opposite walls. Bowman tried sitting down but he couldn't keep skill. The anger inside him raged like a beast. He wanted to punch the walls, kick the door, tear apart the first thing that came through it with his bare hands.

The cell door hummed open and the Doctor was thrown inside. He hit the floor heavily and groaned. The door closed behind him with a solid clang.

Bowman stalked backwards and forwards but made no attempt to help him up.

The Doctor crawled up onto a bench and stared at Bowman for a full minute before saying, 'All that pacing up and down is going to wear you out. It's making me tired just watching you.'

'Shut up.'

'Sorry. What are you doing, thinking up a way to escape?'

'You don't escape from a place like this,' Bowman snarled back. 'You just wait until they come and kill you.'

The Doctor blew out his cheeks in a long sigh. 'You're a big comfort, aren't you? Some cellmate.'

'I'm just telling it like it is.'

'Sounds more like you're giving in.'

'Don't you see?' Bowman suddenly roared. 'Don't you care? They're gonna rip our brains out! It's the end of the line!'

'Well, technically, they're going to take my brain apart neuron by neuron. But yes, they'll probably just rip yours out.' Under his breath, the Doctor added, 'If they can find it...'

'You think this is all one big joke, don't you?'

The Doctor stretched out his legs and folded his arms. 'No. I think it's a disaster. And, worst of all, I should have seen it coming.'

'What?'

'We've been set up. This was a trap all along. A great big gold-plated trap. With the words "this is a trap" written on it in mile-high luminous letters. And we just walked right into it.'

Bowman frowned dangerously. 'What the hell do you mean?'

'The Dalek on the
Wayfarer
,' explained the Doctor. 'It tricked us. When it finally talked, it left us just enough clues to lead us here, to Arkheon.'

'You mean it tricked
you
,' Bowman said. '
You
brought us here, remember.'

'Yeah, well, if you want to point the finger, then maybe –
maybe
– I should have seen it coming. I did exactly what I told you not to – which is underestimate the Daleks. They're always thinking, always conniving, always planning. You can't trust them an inch. Even in its last, dying moments that Dalek – having been torn out of its life-support machine and tortured – managed to trick us. Sold us half a line about the Arkheon Threshold and left my imagination to do the rest. It knew who I was, it knew who you were. And it tricked us into taking ourselves straight to the biggest Dalek prison this side of Skaro.' The Doctor's eyes narrowed as he stared into space. 'Clever, that. Really, really clever.'

Bowman leant down so that he was right in the Doctor's face. 'For your information, I don't admire the Daleks. Never have done. I respect them, but I don't admire them.'

The Doctor smiled. 'Nah. It's not respect, Bowman. It's fear.'

'What did you say?'

'I said it's fear. That's what you're feeling now.'

'No chance.'

'It's fear of what the Daleks can do to you, of what they can do to your friends and family and loved ones. What they can do to all of us – everyone and everything that isn't a Dalek. Cos you know they won't stop until they're the only creatures left in the universe.'

'The supreme beings?' Bowman sneered. 'In their dreams.'

'That's more like it,' grinned the Doctor. 'There's life in the old dog yet.'

In the caverns, two more prisoners – a woman and a girl – were marched over to where Cuttin' Edge and Koral stood. Manacles and chains were quickly fixed to their wrists and ankles so that all four were bound together. The woman and the girl clung to each other, not even looking up.

'Y
OUR TASK IS TO REMOVE ROCK DEBRIS FROM THE DRILL AREA
,' a Dalek informed them. 'I
F YOU DO NOT WORK HARD ENOUGH YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED
!'

Cuttin' Edge looked at the woman and the girl. They were probably mother and daughter, the girl perhaps only eleven or twelve years old. Both kept their heads down. Cuttin' Edge felt his stomach churn with anger.

'You gotta be kiddin',' he told the Dalek. 'They can't work. She's only a kid.'

The Dalek glided forward, gun-stick revolving in its socket. 'The Daleks do not make exceptions. You are to work as a unit. If you fail you will be exterminated.'

'I'm tellin' you, she can't work—'

'D
O NOT ARGUE WITH THE
D
ALEKS
! Y
OU WILL OBEY
!'

Cuttin' Edge felt a cool hand on his arm. It was the woman – looking up at him through a thin curtain of dirty hair with imploring eyes. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. The meaning was clear.
Be quiet, please. Don't argue. Don't provoke them.

The woman had kept one arm tight around the girl's shoulders, holding her close. She was doing her best to protect her daughter. The anger in Cuttin' Edge's guts turned into a sense of helplessness. He looked back at the Dalek, but its single blue eye only blazed, challenging him, daring him to argue.
Wanting
him to argue.