Doctor Who_ The Bodysnatchers - Mark Morris [74]
As the Doctor got closer, he saw that the Zygon ship had long, jointed legs which were tucked partly underneath its body, and that it was pulsing slightly, puffing up then deflating, as though breathing. Hoping that there were no exterior sensors to alert the crew to his presence, the Doctor kicked down towards the ship.
***
The thirty-strong group arrived swiftly and silently despite their drunkenness. They flooded like phantoms through the gates of Seers's factory, each of them carrying a stave bound with cloth and soaked in paraffin. Jack Howe was at their head, strutting on gin and adrenaline. As the last of the mob entered the cobbled courtyard, he turned to face them, raising his stave high in the air.
His face was dark and taut with a righteous anger, his eyes pooled with shadows cast by the brim of his billycock hat. From the pocket of his thick but ragged overcoat he produced a grimy box of matches which he held out towards Henry Peterson.
'Strike one of these for me, will you, Henry?' he growled.
Nervous but evidently considering it a privilege, Peterson hurried forward and took the box from Jack. Tucking his own stave under his arm, he fumbled the box open, extracted a match and lit it.
Fire flared, haloed by fog. Jack stepped forward and thrust the end of his stave into the flame.
A moment later he stepped back, brandishing his blazing torch.
'Come forward, one by one,' he ordered, vapour wreathing from his mouth.
'Once your torch is alight, find a window and throw it through. Break every pane of glass in the place.'
There was another rumble of assent. Henry Peterson stepped forward and Jack lit his stave with his own.
Soon the night was awash with flickering, bobbing teardrops of flame. It transformed the grey drizzle into a shower of glittering jewels.
The men ringed the factory, each selecting a window as Jack had ordered.Then, as though at some unspoken command, staves arced through the air. Glass shattered. Inside the dark building, flames leapt and danced as though in gleeful celebration of the chance to devour.
Jack stumped forward, selected his own window, and hurled his stave as hard as he could. It spun end over end before smashing through into the factory. Glass fell in shining splinters.
'Burn, you bastards,' he muttered. 'Burn all the way back to hell.'
***
'Commander,' Zorva hissed, sibilant voice echoing around the control room,
'a group of human creatures are attacking the factory.'
Balaak swivelled to glare at the Zygon warrior.This day was not turning out at all well.Though the warbling siren had ceased, the escaped human had still not been recaptured despite an extensive search of the ship. Also, Tuval and the Doctor were taking an inordinately long time to return, though Balaak knew that the Time Lords were a notoriously devious species; perhaps the complexities of his time craft were more involved than they had initially anticipated.
'Do they have weapons?' the Zygon warlord asked.
'No, Commander. Merely burning sticks. Their objective appears to be destruction rather than entry.'
Balaak was silent for a few moments, considering the options. If the humans were behaving in such a manner, then it seemed reasonable to assume that the Zygon presence on their miserable planet was no longer the secret it had once been. Balaak knew that the Zygons could deal with the humans easily, but that would only encourage more to come, and yet more after that. It could prove an irritating hindrance to their plans.
'Shall I send a Skarasen to destroy them, Commander?' Zorva asked.