Doctor Who_ Lungbarrow - Marc Platt [55]
77
She sat up, aware that something was happening. From somewhere beyond the seamless wal s came the high whooping sound of an alarm.
She circled the room again, trying to catch the direction of the alert. Boots were pounding past amid the sharp fizzing exchange of guns. She recognized one source of fire at once, but it seemed to be duplicated.
A bright pinpoint of light appeared in the white wall. There was smoke round it and a flame appeared as it began to cut up across the surface. As it went in an arch, she heard more gunfire. The acrid smoke was beginning to choke her. She tried not to breathe, but the cutting of the door was taking too long.
'Hurry up, K9!' she shouted.
To her surprise, a second pinpoint appeared and started to cut up and over to meet the first. It only made the smoke worse.
Gasping for breath, Leela sank to the cold floor.
***
The Time Lord in black stood in the Agency's panelled court-chamber, listening to the alarms.
The impregnable fortress was powerless. Open as it had never been in a hundred aeons. The secure systems had faltered and collapsed. All dimension locks and force barriers were disabled. Intruders were making their way down to the cells in the Keep. The confinement squads were already reduced to a minimum, requisitioned by order of the President. How convenient! She must maintain her personal safety in the face of a terrorist outrage that she herself provoked.
The Time Lord left the chamber and made his way through the empty corridors towards the concealed Barbican entrance.
He had no doubt that the President was behind this. It was a misguided attempt to assert her dwindling authority over the Agency of which she was the nominal head. Well, let her win back her alien guests if it so pleased her.
Romana's sudden appearance at the Presidential suite had almost been convincing. Even so, the nature of her mission away from Gallifrey, the latest of several such ventures, eluded him. Of al the threats to Gallifrey's allegiance, Romanadvoratrelundar posed the second greatest of all.
The President and her Chancellor knew a handful of Agency names, but even they were bound to secrecy. The Agency would outlast any President, let alone this flibbertigibbet. Its command cells were safe; faceless. This breach of security had been rehearsed a thousand times. Nothing incriminating remained.
He reached the deserted Barbican gate-tower. Its doors were open wide. While he waited, he watched the intruders in the Keep on a plasma feed.
Suddenly, there was a squad of guards before him, splendid in the ceremonial scarlet of the President's chapter-colours.
The Time Lord smiled to himself. The gates were open, yet they transducted in.
'This building is now under Chancellery control,' announced the guard leader. He seemed disappointed to find so small an opposing force. 'Where is the Director of Allegiance?'
The faceless Time Lord in black spread his hands. 'Why ask me?' he said. 'I'm only the gatekeeper.'
The burnt arch in the wall fell in with a crash.
K9 rolled in through the smoke. 'Apologies, Mistress,' he said. 'The Agency security system is disabled. Please follow.'
Leela had covered her mouth with her robe. Her streaming eyes widened as a second K9 rol ed in from the outside.
78
'I am K9 Mark II,' it announced.
'I can see that,' said Leela. She tried to laugh, her nausea forgotten, and almost choked instead.
K9 Mark I trained his gun on the opening and shot a fine bolt of ruby light into the dark outside. There was a yel from a col apsing guard. The yel turned into a scream that diminished like that of a man falling from a cliff.
'This way, Mistress.'
'But K9...'
'Follow, Mistress,' they chanted.
They trundled out on to the walkway and she obeyed.
The alarm that had been whooping like a tree-ghost in the pairing season cut off.
Outside, a dimly lit walkway sloped away from them, running straight with a dark drop on either side. Leela leant on the rusty rail, staring into the chasm as she gasped to clear her lungs. The bottom was lost to