Doctor Who_ The Dying Days - Lance Parkin [119]
Greyhaven laughed.
'Iss he deliriouss?'
'No, I'm not,' Greyhaven snapped. He tried to stand up, but couldn't. He settled for straightening his tie. 'King Genius, you have overlooked one small detail.'
'Indeed?' Xznaal hissed scornfully.
'Yes,' Greyhaven said, only needing to block out the pain just long enough to finish one more sentence. 'The fact it takes five minutes to send a radio message from Earth to Mars.'
Staines and Xznaal spun to face the monitors.
Greyhaven winced as he tried to grin. 'My signal should be arriving... now.' The room was becoming dark, it was closing in on him.
The Orbiter's telemetry began to alter, the altitude was dropping. The retros were firing. The nuclear reactors began redlining.
The computer interpreted the data, plotting the course of the Orbiter as it skipped down through the thin Martian atmosphere. It was past the equator, streaking over the Vallis Marineris and the Noctis Labyrinth, crossing the Mare Erythraeum several times faster than the speed of sound.
If the Martians lived underground, Greyhaven reflected, they probably couldn't hear the Orbiter slicing its way down. The atmosphere there was so thin that sound wouldn't carry too well. But the perpetual Martian twilight would be gone. The Martians were scared of fire, and now their sky was ablaze.
The Orbiter detonated, right above the Argyre. The signal ended abruptly.
106
Greyhaven was still laughing when Xznaal broke his neck.
***
From the memoirs of Professor Bernice Summerfield
A little over ten minutes after I had sent my message, a Martian Lord appeared in the hologlobe. Unlike Xznaal, he wore his armour streamlined, complete with cloak. Moving in his own gravity, and breathing Martian air, he was graceful as a dancer.
'Bernicesummerfield,' it said, 'I am Balgrar of the clan Thaumasia. Your news is grave. We Martians value honour above all. Xznaal has shamed our race, and let me assure you that he does not represent our people. He is the leader of but one clan, the Argyre, and their attack on your world was not sanctioned by the Grand Marshall. Know then that all on Mars stand with you against the Argyre and that a punitive expedition of war-barges is even now on its way to - '
The picture disappeared, vanishing in an explosion of static that almost made me jump from my seat.
'What the f- '
Martian hieroglyphs were flashing up across the screen. It told me that there wasn't a problem with the hardware at this end and that it was trying to re-establish a link with the Martian communications network. I bit my lip.
The screen flashed up an answer: there had been a massive electromagnetic pulse and all communications would be impossible until the equipment was reset or replaced. I stared at the hologlobe, and al I could think was that the static swirling around the three dimensions of the hologlobe looked like maggots in a bucket.
There had been a nuclear explosion on the surface of Mars. Either the Argyre were firing them, or the rival clans had launched them in retaliation. Either way, millions of Martians were dying as I sat there. When Xznaal discovered that his home world was at war, that there would be nothing to go back to...
I had one option left. I was back across the room in seconds, my finger stabbing towards the detonator. I didn't even think. It didn't occur to me that this might be the action that released the Red Death, that the bomb might only crack the cylinder casing rather than obliterate the gas completely.
The merest moment's consideration and I might have realised that pressing the button would destroy mankind.
I truly thought I had nothing to lose. But as one claw caught my wrist, another encircled my neck and I was yanked into the air and away from the bomb, I realised that I was wrong. It could get worse. And at that moment, as I felt Vrgnur's cold breath on the back of my neck, I knew that it was over. Whatever we tried to do, however bravely