Doctor Who_ St. Anthony's Fire - Mark Gatiss [108]
‘They’ll pay for it one day, Ace.’
‘Bollocks.’
The Doctor flicked a switch and the time rotor rose and fell once.
‘Short hop,’ he said. ‘Gentlemen?’
The Betrushians trooped out of the TARDIS onto what at first appeared to be the same bridge. Only the presence of Bernice, Liso and Libon showed differently.
The newcomers were enthusiastically welcomed.
‘Did it work?’ asked Bernice.
‘I think so,’ said the Doctor. ‘We’ll soon see.’ He pointed to the young navigator. ‘Who’s he?’
Bernice grinned. ‘That’s Libon. He’s been a great help. In more ways than one.’
Libon smiled shyly.
‘All right, Libon,’ said the Doctor. ‘Get us out of here.’
Libon punched in a course and the ship raced away from the dying planet. Stars burred as they rocketed through space.
The Doctor gazed into the screen until he decreed they had reached a safe distance. ‘Very well. That’ll do.’
Liso was by his side. ‘Where’s Grek?’
‘I’m afraid he didn’t make it.’
Liso heaved a heavy sigh, remembering the Grek he had once loved and respected, cursing his own foolish behaviour.
‘He saved us all,’ said the Doctor gently. ‘He was a brave man.’
Liso’s eyes fired with pride. ‘Yes he was. And a great soldier.’
He put his claws behind his back and turned stiffly towards the round viewing screen. Ran and Imalgahite joined him. The blue disc of Betrushia was scarcely visible in the great black expanse of space.
Bernice sidled up to Ace. ‘What’s the matter?’
Ace ran a hand over her shaved head. ‘After all those bastards did. He just let them go.’
Bernice rolled her eyes theatrically. Ah. Yes. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.’
Ace looked up. ‘What?’
Bernice pointed to young Libon. ‘Our navigator turned out to be a very nice bloke. Just a bit misguided. You know the type. Easily led. Anyway, Liso and I were worried about the Chapter regaining control of your ship so we had a little chat with Libon…’
Ace frowned, then smiled. ‘Tell me more.’
* * *
Jones threw himself down into the Magna’s chair and looked around at his depleted and disillusioned Chapter. He sighed wearily.
‘Very well. Get us out of orbit. I’ll put this one down to experience.’
The navigator nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, Magna. It is the will of Saint Anthony!’
He punched in a course. The console bleeped angrily. He tried again and frowned.
‘My Lord…’
Jones got up. ‘What is it?’
‘The controls, my Lord. They’re not responding.’
‘What?’
The navigator bit his lip and punched in the course a third time. ‘They appear to have been overriden. By an outside force.’
Jones looked wildly about. ‘But that can only be done by…’
‘By another of our vessels,’ concluded the navigator.
Jones wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘Well, override the override, you idiot! There’s not much time!’
The navigator scrambled under the console. Chaptermen scurried to his aid.
Jones glared at the screen. ‘Get us out of here!’
The navigator looked hopelessly at his leader. ‘My Lord…’ He tailed off.
Jones pushed his fist into his mouth, his eyes bulging in naked terror.
* * *
The organism felt it first. A deep, deep rumbling in the earth, greater than all the earthquakes Betrushia had suffered.
Oceanic plates rose up and slammed together, hurling billions of tons of lava and ash into the atmosphere. The oceans evaporated into a nebula of dust, enveloping the ancient evil which struggled and thrashed in its attempt to make sense of its new environment. It was still metamorphosing when the planet’s core burst asunder and consumed it completely.
White fire flared across the expanding mass and Betrushia shattered, rolling in a vast cloud of superheated gas; slamming into the atmosphere; expanding outwards, ever outwards in a blossoming cloud of fire and light; annihilating the planet, the brilliant halo of its throbbing rings and the great black mothership of Saint Anthony which vaporized one point four seconds after the planet exploded.
* * *
Epilogue
The TARDIS stood at a vaguely crooked angle on the grassy hillside. The sun was shining gloriously