Doctor Who_ Attack of the Cybermen - Eric Saward [43]
As Lytton was dragged into his presence, the coterie surrounding the Controller silently turned to face him.
‘You have wasted both my time and energy.’ Although deeper and richer in tone, the Controller’s voice still had the cold, emotionless quality germane to all Cybermen.
Lytton stared defiantly at him, knowing that whatever he said would not prevent his ultimate fate – being turned into a Cyberman.
With far more grace and control than would have been expected from someone as large as the Controller, he glided across the floor to Lytton. ‘I know that you planned to steal my time vessel,’ he boomed. ‘You will tell me how it is to be done.’ Lytton felt the gaze of everyone in the room boring into him. ‘Well?’
He didn’t reply.
The Controller nodded, and two Cybermen flanking Lytton grabbed his hands and slowly started to squeeze. At first he was able to control the pain, but as their grip tightened Lytton began to scream. Those around him looked on, unaffected by his agony. Unable to accept any more pain, he begged for mercy, agreeing to tell them everything they wanted to know.
The Cybermen released his now-bloody hands and he collapsed to the floor. The Controller edged forward and waited for Lytton to speak. Once he had started it was difficult to make him stop. He told them about the Doctor, how he had been stranded on Earth, and the deal he had made with the Cryons. He told them how they planned to steal the time vessel and where they would take it. He told them about Stratton and Bates, and how the Cryons had encouraged them to escape. He told them everything.
Satisfied it was the truth, the Cyber Controller prodded him gently with his foot. ‘You are a fool, Lytton,’ he declared. ‘You could have saved yourself pain by telling us everything when first asked.’ Lytton’s only reply was a groan. Now you will become as we are.’
Lytton was pulled to his feet and taken to one of a row of conversion cabinets. Deftly he was strapped into place and the silver skullcap that would condition his mind was lowered into place. Everyone in the room watched.
‘Excellent,’ said the Controller. Now bring the Doctor to me. He too will become as we are.’
Obeying, a Cyberman spoke urgently into a microphone, but there wasn’t any reply. He then pressed a button and the open door to the refrigeration plant, where the Doctor had been held prisoner, flashed up onto a screen. In the foreground of the picture could be seen the destroyed Cyberman.
The Doctor has escaped!’ roared the Controller. ‘He must be found!’
There was a great bustle in the room as switches were pressed and guards called to action. Somewhere in the distance a klaxon started to sound. A bleary-eyed Lytton stared out at the busy room. The drugs had already started to affect his mind. He felt strangely calm. Even his hands had stopped hurting. He knew that soon he would be a Cyberman. As this thought began to slowly permeate his fuddled mind, his urge to resist returned. So did the pain: Lytton started to scream.
The Time Lord ran along a huge, desolate gallery that seemed to go on forever. What had once been the neat, ordered resting place for thousands of hibernating Cybermen was now derelict. Doors of many individual tombs had been smashed open. Damaged corpses of Cybermen, some with head and arms missing, littered the floor. Whatever the Cryons had used to poison their life-support system, thought the Doctor, it certainly had had a very odd effect. Instead of killing them outright, many had woken with their brains affected by the drug. This had caused them to smash out of their tombs and attack anything they met.
Although the Cyber Controller had worked hard to locate the source of poisoning, and discover an antidote, he had been unsuccessful. With only a few hundred surviving Cybermen, the future of their race was uncertain. Unable to breed, they relied on converting suitable captives. With so few Cybermen to raid it was simply a matter of time