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‘Ah Doctor,’ it said. ‘You have changed again, your appearance is as inconstant as your intelligence. You have confounded me for the last time.’

The bloated dome cracked open and slid back. Inside the Dalek shell was a creature whose head was cradled by metal braces from which wires trailed down into the hidden body of the Dalek shell. A face that had once been humanoid, but no longer. Its eyes were hollow scars, the skin of its cheeks was withered and cracked. Only its mouth moved, the lips twisting obscenely.

‘Davros,’ said the Doctor, ‘I should have known.’

The Doctor’s hated face filled the main viewing screen.

Davros had always known that in the end it would come to this – a final confrontation between the Doctor and himself. Davros remembered all the times he had faced this meddling Time Lord, each defeat squirrelled away – every humiliation – to be brought out to make his victory sweeter.

Davros could feel the preparations falling into place.

Omega device locked in and running, reported the systems co-ordinator.

‘I warn you, Davros,’ said the Doctor, ‘the Hand of Omega is not to be trifled with.’

Omega device prepared and standing by. All control systems are optimal. Time-space co-ordinates set in.

‘I think I am quite capable of handling the technology, Doctor,’ said Davros.

‘I sincerely doubt that,’ said the Doctor.

‘Does it worry you, Doctor,’ said Davros, ‘that with it I can transform Skaro’s sun into a source of unimaginable power?’

It worries me, thought Rachel, and I don’t even know what he is talking about. She looked at the Doctor, but his face showed nothing.

‘With that power at our disposal the Daleks will sweep away Gallifrey and its impotent quorum of Time Lords.’

Davros’s voice rose, a tinny shrieking from the television’s speaker. ‘The Daleks shall seize control of time itself, we shall become...’

‘All powerful,’ screamed the Doctor. Rachel flinched back, clinging on to Gilmore’s hand to keep herself upright.

‘Crush the lesser races, conquer the galaxy,’ shouted the Doctor. ‘Unimaginable power, unlimited rice-pudding and so on and so on.’

‘Do not anger me, Doctor,’ hissed Davros. ‘I can destroy you and this miserable insignificant planet.’

‘Wonderful,’ said the Doctor. ‘What power, what brilliance. You could wipe out the odd civilization, enslave the occasional culture.’

Rachel watched Davros thrashing with anger in his casing. She remembered the vast spaceship that hung above their heads – ‘That ship, Group Captain, has weapons that could crack this planet like an egg.’

‘But it won’t detract from the fundamental truth of your own impotence,’ said the Doctor. Davros’s mouth hung open, uttering nothing but a gurgling sound. Rachel was suddenly very scared.

‘Careful, Doctor,’ she said.

The Doctor covered the microphone and turned to her.

‘Trust me,’ he said, ‘I know what I’m doing.’

Davros rocked within his shell. He could feel his anger being smothered by the tranquillizers that were pumped in by his life support system. He knew he had defeated the Doctor, but it wasn’t enough. The Doctor must be shown.

‘I will teach you the folly of your words,’ said Davros. ‘I shall demonstrate the power of the Daleks.’

‘Davros,’ said the Doctor, ‘I beg of you, do not use the Hand of Omega.’

‘Now you begin to fear.’

‘You’re making a grave mistake,’ said the Doctor.

Activate the Omega device.

‘Now the Daleks will be the Lords of Time,’ said Davros.

The Omega device felt the go-signal.

With a burst of power it howled out of the mothership and soared into space. Around it the space-time continuum blazed with shifting planes of force. Within moments the Hand of Omega had accelerated to near light speed –

within minutes it had passed the orbit of Jupiter. There in transjovian space it found a nexus, a place where the fabric of space and time was malleable.

Gathering its strength the Hand of Omega lunged down and punched a hole in reality.

21

Skaro

It was dawn on the Vekis Nar-Kangli, the Plain of Swords –

a wasteland of dust and bones bisected by a range of mountains. Here, twenty