Doctor Who_ Peacemaker - James Swallow [59]
He hated himself for it, but it was true. The Daleks had taken everything from him, and still they would not die; and there were so many other dangers out there, just as lethal, just as virulent. . .
Don’t fight us, Doctor, said the voice. Join us. As one we’ll be unstoppable.
‘No.’ Martha dug in her heels and shook off Nathan’s hand. ‘Stop. I’m not going another step.’
‘Miss Martha, you heard the Doctor, we gotta get outta here –’
‘I said no!’ She turned around and started back the way they had come. ‘He risked everything to save my life and now what are we doing? Just running?’ Martha shook her head. ‘That’s not the right way. That’s not the Doctor’s way.’
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‘You go back there and you’ll wind up dead, for real this time!’
Nathan implored.
She stopped and gave him a hard look. ‘Before, when I was hurt, when I thought I wasn’t going to make it, do you know what kept me holding on? His voice. The Doctor, telling me to be strong.’ Martha pointed in the direction of the cavern. ‘He’s back there, fighting that Clade thing, and he needs to hear that too.’ She ran off into the dark.
‘Go if you want to, but I’m not leaving without the Doctor.’
Nathan took a breath. ‘Ah, heck,’ he said, going after her. ‘I gotta be out of my mind!’
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Thecryofagonyechoedalongtherough-hewntunnels,haltingKut-ter and Tangleleg in their tracks. The longriders froze, both of them absorbing every element of the sound, sifting it for meaning and density, coldly calculating the pain index of the victim, the distance from their current location. They remained silent, neither needing to communicate the data to the other. Both compared the sound to their stored memories and found a match immediately. The scream had come from only one person – the offworlder they had first encountered in Redwater, the being who called himself the Doctor.
As the echo died away, they moved forward once more, holding their weapons before them.
So much sadness and despair. It pressed the Doctor into the ground, forcing him to his knees. His thoughts were alight with all the terrible losses he had suffered throughout the centuries of his existence, each one a razor through his heart. Every time he tried to fight it, the tide of black emotion dragged him further down.
The Clade churned up long-buried memories, battering the Doctor with them. Join us, cooed the Godlove-voice. Just give in, dear Doctor!
Release yourself to us and this will all go away! We will make you strong, 145
my friend. So very strong. Nothing will ever hurt you again! You’ll never lose another companion, never be defeated!
‘I can’t,’ he gasped. ‘It’s wrong.’
Weakness is wrong! The words in his mind were a harsh snarl. Com-passion is a weakness, Doctor! You are so very good, but what does it get you? Death and death and more death? Imagine if you were the one with the power. If you had been merged with us back then, it would be the Daleks that were gone, not the Time Lords! If you had been part of us, your precious Rose would still be with you and the Cybermen would be nothing but scrap metal! How much more do you have to lose, Doctor? How much more before you understand. . . that force is the only way?
‘Might makes right? Is that what you’re saying?’ The Doctor shook his head. ‘I’ve lived my life against that kind of thinking! Violence solves nothing. Anger only creates more anger,’ he shouted. ‘There has to be a better way!’
The Clade-voice hammered at him, grim and unstoppable, grinding away his resistance. You are mistaken, Doctor. How can it be one so old can have such a childish belief. There is only one constant in the universe, my friend. Conflict. Life is war. The only true peace is the peace of the dead.
Darkness pushed in at him from all sides, filling his thoughts. He felt as if he were falling, falling toward an infinitely complex web of steel and brass strands. The mesh of the Clade-mind reached up to engulf him, filling the Time Lord; and as it opened him up, he too saw into the core of the Clades themselves.