Doctor Who_ The Dying Days - Lance Parkin [82]
***
They didn't need their umbrellas, the Martian ship hovering overhead sheltered them from the light rainfall. There were a couple of dozen of dignitaries: politicians, businessmen, soldiers. All of them were supporters of Greyhaven's cause. They were his co-conspirators, the people who had facilitated his rise to power, although none of them had been let in on the full scheme. Now they were helping to ease the transition between the old government and his regime, and to ensure their continuing support they thought they were being rewarded with a state banquet. For the moment, they were delighted just to be so close to the Martian ship, London's newest tourist attraction.
Greyhaven hadn't really thought about the Tower of London before. It had sat there in the London drizzle for almost a mil ennium, and for most of that time it had been a part of the landscape. A thousand years ago the squared-off Norman architecture of the White Tower must have been as striking a symbol of alien occupation as the Martian warship was now. A thousand years before that, Roman biremes had ploughed down the Thames, and to the eyes of the ancient Britons they must have seemed like Martians with their gleaming armour, their strange customs and advanced technology.
'The ravens have gone,' Greyhaven said. 'The Yeoman warders took them away. They and their families voted to leave rather than serve the Provisional Government.'
'What's more, your little American friend isn't here.'
Greyhaven checked the crowd, already aware that Staines was right. The Home Secretary hadn't finished his analysis. 'She must have found something that's more important than her first sight of a Martian.'
'Indeed,' Greyhaven said acidly.
***
Xznaal watched the small gathering on the hologlobe. The head of his scientific research division, Vrgnur, was standing opposite him, studying the image.
'Humans take some getting used to,' Vrgnur said.
'Indeed,' Xznaal grunted back. The human body was a stunted parody of the Martian form, but with an endoskeleton. Many centuries ago, Martian scientists had concluded that an oxygen-breathing lifeform was a theoretical absurdity. Xznaal found himself wondering what effect a sonic blast would have on such a creature.
Without even a shell to crack open, the damage would be entirely internal. Every one of those brittle bones would shatter like pottery. Every nerve would burst. It would mean instant death, even at the lowest settings, Xznaal was sure of that. The only question was if human physiology was sufficiently developed for them to feel pain as they died.
'Nothing as bizarre ever evolved on Mars. Would your authorise the capture of a couple of specimens for study?'
Vrgnur was one of the clan's foremost scientists, and his insight into human anatomy would be invaluable.
'That might be considered... undiplomatic, for the moment,' Xznaal answered. 'Soon it will be possible.'
It was time for him to meet these creatures. Xznaal stepped up onto the magnetic lift platform.
'You will really honour such creatures with a ceremonial banquet?' Vrgnur asked.
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'They do have some degree of sentience. Their chieftain, Lord Gerayhayvun, tells me that this ceremony wil secure my legal claim to this world.'
'They are cattle, my Lord. Would you ask an animal permission to enter his cave?'
'We have not yet established a firm grip on this world,' Xznaal warned. 'Until then we shall treat the humans as we would any serfs won in battle, with courtesy. Activate the magnetic beam.'
Vrgnur reached across to the large lever mounted on the wall, yanking it to release the exit hatch. It slid open beneath Xznaal, and the platform began descending gently.
Below him, the humans were staring up, murmuring. They had gathered on an area called 'Tower Green', within both sets of curtain walls.
The heat.
He had waited until nightfall before emerging, and the light level was almost exactly right. But the heat was overwhelming. As he floated down towards the ground, Xznaal found himself gasping for breath, sucking