Doctor Who_ St. Anthony's Fire - Mark Gatiss [98]
Grek shrugged. ‘On my way.’ He put the communicator back in his belt.
Yong pointed down a right‐hand corridor. ‘It’s this way.’
Grek pushed him in the back. ‘I know.’
* * *
The Doctor pressed his handkerchief to his face and raced across the heaving earth towards the TARDIS. Smoke stung his eyes and he was almost consumed by steam and lava as huge gashes opened up in the ground. He dashed through the burning jungle towards the clearing, hoping that Ace was all right and the pathway to his ship unobstructed.
There was a great, mournful roar, as though the planet were giving out its death‐rattle. It was only as the Doctor approached the TARDIS through a hail of fire that he saw the creature.
It was dominating the sky above the jungle, its hide constantly shifting, shifting, shifting, in restless motion. It had a face, then nothing but a blur of components, then another face, fashioned from who knew what hellish source. Electricity arced over every terrible fragment of blood and bone.
The Doctor let himself into the TARDIS and Ace ran round from the other side of the console.
‘What is it?’ she cried. ‘That thing?’
‘It’s changing,’ he said, feverishly setting the co‐ordinates. ‘Re‐inventing itself.’
He flicked a switch and the time rotor began its slow rise and fall. The Doctor glanced at Ace. ‘Remember its original function was to seek perfection in all lifeforms. Perhaps it finds its own design imperfect and can’t rest until it’s restructured itself.’
Ace grimaced. ‘Out of all that… gunk?’
The Doctor shrugged. ‘That’s its essence. A matrix of all the matter it’s ever absorbed.’
Ace looked down at the console worriedly. ‘Doctor? Is… is everything going to be all right?’
The Doctor looked at his watch. ‘Well, if Bernice and Liso have finished their rescue attempt, both ships are in orbit, the re‐engineering of the artificial suns works out and I can co‐ordinate the power, then yes, everything will be fine.’
Ace frowned. ‘There’s a lot that could go wrong.’
‘Yes,’ said the Doctor, with something like his usual humour, ‘but that’s half the fun.’
As the TARDIS finally faded away from Betrushia, the creature suddenly doubled in size as it sucked in the mass of the flaming jungle. Fire roared through its veins, became part of its being, shot across the contours of its glistening flesh.
It gazed at the dying world through a thousand pairs of eyes and roared with power; triumphantly, appallingly alive. Alive!
* * *
In the scout‐ship’s hold, Bernice pressed her hand against the door panel and the bulkhead slammed shut. She turned to the frightened group of Betrushians milling about in the corridor and tried to placate them. Most fell back against the rough metal walls, clinging to each other in fear. Children hung around their mother’s skinny reptilian ankles and sobbed.
Resisting the urge to speak to them in a very loud and slow voice, Bernice took out her communicator and called up Liso.
‘I think they need to see a friendly face,’ she said. ‘And you’re the nearest thing to it. I’ll take over on the bridge if you want to come down.’
‘On my way,’ came Liso’s voice.
Bernice looked around. They hadn’t done too badly. The two neighbouring villages and the town Liso had mentioned had yielded about a hundred and fifty Betrushians. Mostly women and children but that was probably for the best in survival terms. Most of the men had probably been drafted into the Ismetch‐Cutch war. They could never have foreseen it would all end like this.
Bernice left the Betrushians in the hold and headed through the blank metal corridors towards the bridge. Their two hours were almost up.
As she reached the bridge, giving Liso a warm smile as they passed each other, she saw the viewing screen showing a receding image of the dying planet. Libon calmly took them into orbit and their prearranged position in the Doctor’s bold plan.
For the sake of them all, she prayed it would work.
* * *
Grek marched Yong through the metal iris onto the bridge of the mothership and then froze as he felt the