Doctor Who_ Storm Harvest - Mike Tucker [69]
An emergency hatch was set into the concrete. Sobbing with relief, she grasped the handle and twisted it. The mechanism was stiff with disuse and her hands slipped on the grease. She tipped the handle with both hands and put all her weight on it. With agonising slowness it began to move.
There was a hiss from the darkness. Shapes began to flow from the shadows. Slimy fish-flesh shapes squeezing through the confined space.
Ace screamed with effort and the hatch clicked open.
She hauled herself on to the roof and slammed the heavy emergency hatch shut, lying on top of it, almost crying with relief. The wind tugged at her hair and her eyes streamed in the bright glare of the sunlight.
A shadow suddenly fell across her.
Ace looked up in despair.
Garrett stood silhouetted against the crackling force field that swept across the sky, the cylindrical bulk of the ancient weapon cradled in his arms. He twisted his head down and smiled at her. His face was decorated with livid patterns in red and black.
Ace rubbed at her eyes. Beneath the paint Garrett’s features seemed blurred, indistinct. She couldn’t seem to focus on them. From behind him dozens of figures began to appear. Dreekans, their faces and skin painted in similar patterns, their eyes glazed and rolling, their hands clapping in complicated rhythms.
Ace could hear the razor claws of the Krill clicking on the hatch, the ragged hiss of their breathing. With a metallic crunch the hatch burst open.
Garrett raised the weapon.
And triggered it.
Aboard the Cythosi ship an alarm screeched across the bridge.
Bisoncawl’s head snapped up from his controls as troopers snatched off headphones and struggled to shut down overloading systems.
‘What is happening!?’ roared Mottrack.
133
Bisoncawl crossed to the sensor array and punched the screen into life. Data flickered across the screen.
‘Unknown energy signature, General. Very localised. Very powerful. Nearly overloaded every system on the ship.’
‘The Weapon?’
Bisoncawl nodded. ‘It would be logical to assume that this is what we have been waiting for, but without confirmation...’
Mottrack’s fist slammed down on his console.
‘I need no further confirmation! Close down the planet’s communication grid. Complete blanket. I want continual sensor sweeps relayed to my command position. Warn off any ships that come near.
Those that persist, destroy.’
He snapped on the com system.
‘All hands, this is General Mottrack. Prepare to drop to low orbit.
All troops to drop ships.’ His voice echoed around the cavernous bulk of the battle cruiser. He swung round and pointed at Bisoncawl.
‘Take the ship down to strike range, Commander. As soon as it is done, join me in the assault shuttle.’
Hauling himself from his chair, Mottrack lumbered from the bridge.
In the shadows Bavril’s heart pounded. The Cythosi were going to be preoccupied. The last thing on their minds would be the functionaries.
For the first time in his life Bavril felt a surge of hope.
The engines on the lumbering battle cruiser flared into life and, like some huge barnacled sea creature, the Cythosi ship began to descend towards the gentle blue globe below it.
134
Chapter Fifteen
Ace sat in a corner of Brenda’s office nursing her throbbing head.
Outside she could hear signs that the colony was slowly coming back to life. Damage control teams and medics scurried everywhere like ants. Rajiid crossed to her side, handing her a glass.
‘This should help with the head.’
Ace smiled at him. Thanks. Where’s R’tk’tk?’
‘Down at the harbour, seeing if he can help with repairs.’
In front of them the Doctor and Brenda were arguing about what had happened, while MacKenzie and Q’ilp looked on. Ace took a sip of her water, grimacing at the bitter taste. Her head was beginning to clear already, but things were still fuzzy.
She remembered Garrett raising the weapon, remembered looking right down the stump of the barrel. There had been a bright glaring light and then a... sensation,