Doctor Who_ The Dying Days - Lance Parkin [134]
'Nothing's going right for you today, is it?'
Xznaal hurled the canister at him with an exasperated grunt. The Doctor had already dived out of the way. He bent down to examine the cylinder as it rolled over to him, shutting off the valve to prevent any more gas from escaping.
Xznaal loomed over him, hissing.
The Doctor held up the cylinder so that Xznaal could see it. 'Helium,' he cal ed up at the monolith. 'An inert gas.
Harmless, especially to a Time Lord with a respiratory bypass system. And now I have the satisfaction of knowing that when you utter your last words, they'll be squeaky ones.'
'Your last words wil be lost to the winds, Time Lord,' Xznaal cheeped. He pointed one claw at the floor, resting the other on a vast red lever.
The Doctor looked down and realised that his feet were planted on the edge of the iris hatch.
Xznaal grabbed the lever and pulled.
The hatch dilated open and the wind whipped up from the gaping hole behind the Doctor lifting the tails of his frock coat. The Doctor steadied his feet, balancing right on the lip of the opening. He glanced back over his shoulder.
Debris was pouring through the hole and out over London.
'That's a terrific view,' the Doctor observed, turning back.
Xznaal grabbed the Doctor's throat, yanking him off his feet and swinging him over the hole. The Doctor's legs pedalled in thin air, and he tried to keep control of his breathing.
The Doctor was still gripping the gas cylinder. He brought it down on the Ice Warrior's shoulder, and again. He only succeeded in denting the cylinder, which slipped from his grip.
There was an explosion far behind them, a great reverberation that ran the full length of the ship. The warship lurched. Another explosion. Another. These weren't missile strikes: the magnetic engines were in chain reaction now.
'Goodbye,' the Doctor said softly.
Xznaal said nothing, he simply released his grip.
The Doctor's hands tried to shoot forwards, to grab onto the edge of the hatchway, but the gas cylinder was in the way. With al his weight tugging at it, the canister began rolling inexorably towards the edge. Wide-eyed, the Doctor tried to scrabble over it, a movement which ended abruptly as he found himself outside.
The underside of the Martian ship stretched above him, dark, spiky metal as far as even his eyes could see. The only break was the circular hatch he had just fallen through, which was diminishing with every second. The wind was whipping around him, drowning out the sound of the ship tearing itself apart.
Xznaal was leaning over, his claws clenched in triumph. He was rumbling with laughter. The fire came only moments later, lapping around the Martian, surging over his vast frame and obliterating him. He died satisfied that he had killed a Time Lord, that his people had been avenged.
***
119
Extract from the memoirs of Professor Bernice Summerfield
The Provisional Government forces had been rounded up. Eve Waugh and Alan were filing a report in front of the White Tower. The Brigadier and I were up in the Lanthorn Tower, peering through binoculars at the Martian warship. Even at an altitude of ten kilometres it filled my viewfinder.
It shook again.
'What's going on up there?' I asked. The vapour trails of the RAF planes were visible, but not the planes themselves, they were too small.
'The air strikes are really hitting home,' the Brigadier said enthusiastical y. 'That warship real y is a marvel, though.
It must be solid metal in places. How do you think the Doctor will escape?'
I considered my answer for a couple of seconds. 'The magnetic platform won't be reliable - it depends on power from the warship. By now, he's probably destroyed the gas and he'll be making his way to the shuttle bay.'
'And that's in that compartment towards the front, isn't it? So, we watch out for movement along - '
The warship exploded.
'My God,' the Brigadier said softly. 'Not again.'