Doctor Who_ Father Time - Lance Parkin [123]
Ferran turned to face Miranda. ‘The gun has been tampered with. It’s a trick.’
‘No, it hasn’t,’ the Doctor said softly. ‘The gun works... but it is useless.’
‘If you want to rule the universe,’ Miranda said, ‘start here: order your bridge crew to stop us.’
Ferran glanced over. His men were sitting at their stations, not moving, not daring to look at him.
‘Cowards!’ he shouted.
They could hear cheering, coming up through the deckplates, from the rest of the ship – they could hear singing and shouting and laughter.
‘It’s over,’ the Doctor said simply. ‘The violence, the killing. It’s not needed any more.’
Ferran stared at him.
Fire.
His mother, lying dead on the Senate steps, gunned down.
He’d never known her, not really. From before he could remember, his brother had told him about his destiny, told him of revenge. His future was in his past, locked in his genes, flowing through his blood. Miranda and her kind must be destroyed. If he had killed her from orbit, then this would be over, he would still have his ship. His mistake was thinking that he could harness this power.
‘Never,’ he shouted, reaching for his wrist.
‘No!’ Miranda leapt at him.
But Ferran was already fading out of existence.
* * *
Miranda stood where the Prefect had been just moments before.
‘That wasn’t time travel,’ she announced.
The Doctor shook his head. ‘No. Computer: where is Ferran?’
‘He has transmatted to the main time-engine chamber.’
‘The other end of the ship,’ Cate said, ‘the only area still held by his men. It’s behind heavy blast doors – ten times thicker than the ones for the flight deck, with independent force screens, too.’
The Doctor drummed his fingers against his lips. ‘He’s not just gone in there to hide. Presumably he can exert some control over the ship from there?’
The pilot, Mordak, nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’
The Doctor smiled. ‘I’m no one’s sir,’ he told him gently. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Space Pilot Sub-Captain Mordak, of the Twelfth Galactic Fleet.’ Mordak started to salute, but a bout of self-consciousness turned the gesture into a vague wave of his hand.
‘And you know everything there is to know about the ship?’
‘Everything that is known, Doctor, not everything there is to know.’
The Doctor smiled. ‘Excellent answer. Come with us. Miranda, we need to get to the engine room.’
Miranda nodded. ‘Graltor, Cate – stay here. Liaise with Captain Mather: make sure the rest of the ship is secure, make sure no one gets carried away.’
She followed her father and Mordak up towards the doorway. The Doctor had his arm confidingly over Mordak’s shoulder. ‘What’s the Prefect doing?’
Mordak gulped. ‘Well, he won’t have complete control of the ship from there – but he could try to shut down power distribution. That would have the same effect your own tactics had – make us blind and defenceless.’
The Doctor looked thoughtful.
Miranda wasn’t convinced. ‘Then what? We took over the ship with sheer force of numbers. He’s got a few technicians and anyone else who was in the engine room.’
They reached the travel-tube door, which opened automatically. The travel car was empty. A holographic screen on one wall continued to relay pictures from the flight deck, just as she’d ordered.
‘Ferran knows we’re coming,’ she realised. ‘He would have seen that.’
The Doctor gave an exasperated gasp. ‘Well... he doesn’t know what we’re planning. How could he, when even we don’t?’
Mordak grinned at that, and Miranda found herself smiling.
* * *
The door was a vast thing, like the drawbridge of a fortress, cast from solid steel.
The slaves and other men and women in front of it looked tiny. Half a dozen of them had opened up the control panel and were trying to rewire it. A larger team had a less subtle approach – they were setting up a laser cannon, moving it into position and trying to agree among themselves where to aim it. There were shallow, futile burn marks on the door where