Doctor Who_ Companion Piece - Mike Tucker [40]
She couldn't believe her luck — the TARDIS! She ran across to it, fumbling for the key the Doctor had given her. 'If you get into trouble and I'm not there, try to get back to the TARDIS' — that's what he always said. Somehow things never seemed to work out that way... until now.
It was covered in some sort of shiny, translucent sheet. She tried to grasp it, to find an opening — and her hands bounced off. She hugged her tingling fingers to her chest. It felt like she'd just had a mild electric shock. She picked up a metal spar from the floor and poked at the covering. The pole bounced off and shuddered from her hand to the deck.
It wasn't material covering the TARDIS, it was some sort of energy field. There had to be a way in . . .
Suddenly Agatho's hands closed around her throat. His fingers bit into her neck, then he twisted and forced her to the ground.
`I'm sorry, my dear. You heard my confession. It does count, you know. Anyone can be a priest. It means nothing.'
`You're barmy!' Cat choked.
`You are bound by the seal of the confessional,' the Bishop continued. `You must carry my words to the grave with you. I must make sure that you do.
Cat felt a pressure building up behind her eyes. She felt hotter than ever before. Her vision began to blur and flicker, and then shut off.
The last thing she was aware of before she lost consciousness was Agatho's grip relaxing, and his sudden, surprised, delighted laughter.
`Here they come . . . '
The first of the Magellanic horde had appeared at the far end of the main access corridor to the lift. The Doctor, the prelates and the four crewmen were peering from a private chapel set off the corridor.
The war-band had split into three main groups, and each was advancing down one of the forward command deck's main corridors. A fourth group — just three of them — was guarding the lift. It seemed as if, having largely scourged the other decks with fire, the main groups had abandoned them.
The priests' role was twofold. Three of them would mount a swift attack on the invaders, then disappear down a side-corridor, whereupon they would split up, hopefully getting the invaders lost and unable to return quickly to the main corridor. The other three would then attack the group guarding the lift. It was risky — all the Doctor's hopes were pinned on the Magellanic horde not being insane enough to use their heavy weaponry this close to the bridge.
`Now, Fathers . . . '
On cue, three priests stepped out in front of the approaching horde, raised their heavy blasters and fired straight into the advance. The front-runners were cut to pieces, then the next ragged rank, and then the next. The others fell back in disorder, howling beneath their gasmasks.
The priests took flight. It took the invaders seconds to recover themselves, and when they did, they charged, roaring, skidding and jostling around the corner in pursuit of the robotic clerics.
W hen the last of the mob had disappeared from sight, a door slid open and the other three priests emerged. They sprinted down the corridor, and the Doctor ushered his companions forward, out into the
corridor.
`W e must try to keep up with them: he said, setting off at a trot around the gentle curve of the corridor. The others followed.
They came up behind the priests to find them advancing slowly, weapons raised, ready to take the guards by surprise. The Doctor raised his hand and stopped about fifty yards back.
`Be very quiet, he whispered.
The next sound was the swish of an opening door. Two of the invaders were dragging a huge, jewel-covered cross into the corridor. They were behind the priests and saw them at once, dropped the cross and, with rapier speed, unhooked their blade weapons. One brought a heavy axe down on a priest's head, cleaving it in two. The cleric staggered backward and fell to the deck, sparking and twitching.
Another pierced a priest through the back with a viciously curved scimitar, raising the flapping cleric into the air. Slowly the priest