Doctor Who_ St. Anthony's Fire - Mark Gatiss [95]
With a final echoing roar, the Ismetch dug‐out collapsed in on itself. Mud swept through the network of tunnels filling Grek’s quarters, the conference room, even the tiny cell in which the Doctor had first been imprisoned. Black, liquefied soil gushed through the soaked planking, running deep, deep down into the lowest levels. The ancient Temple walls crumbled, slamming into the shrine which toppled forwards, its jewels cascading from the shattered stone. Mud gushed through the secret hatchway, drowning the polygon forever.
Above all this, spinning through the shimmering air, the organism grew stronger. Everything in sight was absorbed into its fearful matrix, creating a vortex of raw, yellow ooze. Gradually it edged its way towards the great black bulk of the Chapter’s ships.
* * *
The Doctor slipped a pair of goggles over his face and flung open the door to the power room. Similarly equipped, Grek and Yong advanced inside, the Magna at the point of Grek’s blaster. The glare from the artificial sun was almost unbearable.
The Doctor’s gaze ranged around the humming machinery as he began to step down the power of the sun by degrees.
‘This is it? The source of your power?’ yelled Grek above the throb of machinery.
Yong nodded. ‘We bring Saint Anthony’s Fire to the heathen hordes.’
‘Yes, yes,’ muttered the Doctor. ‘Well, now you’re going to help me bring it somewhere else.’
He turned to Grek. ‘Do we have a link to the other ship yet?’
‘Yes. We did as you instructed.’ Grek’s tongue slithered over his recessed blue eyes. ‘Here.’
He passed the Doctor a bulky cylinder. The Doctor tapped it and a rush of static came through.
‘Bernice? Liso? Are you there?’
Bernice’s voice came through faintly: ‘Just about to set off, Doctor. The helmsman has full instructions.’
The Doctor nodded to himself. ‘Good. Good. Now, when I’m finished here I’ll relay the refinements needed for your ship’s sun, all right? You have to be on‐line at precisely the right moment.’
‘I understand,’ said Bernice. ‘Good luck.’
The Doctor switched off the communicator and turned to Yong. ‘Now then, Magna, I’ll be watching you very carefully. Roll up your sleeves. It’s high time you got those pretty hands dirty.’
Silently, reluctantly, Yong knelt down and began to unscrew the panelling of the device.
The sunlight flared off his goggles and neither Grek nor the Doctor saw the surreptitious glance he shot at Ran’s mysterious box, nestled between two banks of machinery.
* * *
Thoss had grown used to extraordinary things, but the interior of the mothership was something else entirely.
The stone corridors reminded him of his Temple, even though the deity to which they had been erected was completely alien to him. A short time after entering the ship, he found himself in the great musty hall of the cathedral.
It was truly overwhelming. The throne at the top of the stone steps. The twin circular panels through which Saint Anthony’s Fire was channelled. The three huge cages with –
‘You there!’ came a tinny voice.
Thoss peered into the cage. A very small mammal was glaring at him from inside, its beady little eyes blazing in fury.
‘Free us from this cage,’ bellowed De Hooch. ‘We are your masters.’
Thoss frowned confusedly. ‘You are the ones whose coming was foretold?’ he stammered unthinkingly.
‘Er… yes. Yes!’ boomed De Hooch. ‘We have come to judge you! Now, set us free!’
Thoss shambled towards the cage and began to wrestle with the lock.
‘Hurry! Hurry, old man,’ insisted De Hooch.
All at once the lock sprang open and the Chaptermen piled out in a flurry of purple robes. Gleefully, De Hooch scuttled to the floor like a spider freed from a bottle.
‘Come on!’ he cried to the Chaptermen. In a bellowing rush, the vengeful prisoners ran out of the cathedral, knocking the unthinking Thoss to the floor. He curled up into a ball and began to weep.
* * *