Doctor Who_ The Paradise of Death - Barry Letts [103]
The missile launcher clattered to the floor; Tragan’s knees gave way and he sagged to the floor. Sarah could see his eyes, wide open, staring at her without expression, but clearly still seeing. As she watched his face, which by now was almost black in the intensity of its colour, the swellings were becoming so large they were merging one into another, and yet still they grew, until his eyes were hidden from sight.
Surely his face must burst!
And so it did; not with a bang; not with an explosion which splattered the walls; but with a juicy burp, a whoopee-cushion raspberry, a despairing fart, which slopped his purple lifeblood on to the bare stone floor, still stained with the blood of so many of his victims.
Jeremy, peering over the heads of the group behind the Brigadier, reckoned it was probably okay to go in now. As he sidled through the door, he saw Rance signalling to his men to remove the body. The Brigadier had turned to Sarah. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, yes, but – ’
‘We’ll soon have you out of those things.’
‘Never mind about me! Jeremy! See what’s happening to the Doctor!’
‘What?’
‘The ER set. There on the floor.’
He picked it up and shoved it on, and immediately found himself in the middle of a hand to hand fight with –
of all people – the Doctor!
‘Well? What’s going on?’
He tried to tell them as well as concentrate on the fight.
It was funny but, though he didn’t want to hurt the Doctor, he couldn’t not do his best to spifflicate him.
‘Jeremy!’
‘He’s twisting my wrist... and I’ve dropped my sword...
and I’ve thrown him off and... Oh no!’
The Doctor has fallen off the edge; he was hanging on by his finger tips. Jeremy walked slowly over, listening to the astonishing roar of the audience, which was so loud it had stopped being a sound; it was just an intense sensation in the ears like a pain that didn’t hurt.
‘For God’s sake, Jeremy!’
‘Sorry, I... there’s an enormous frog thingy jumping up and trying to grab his legs and...’
He lifted his foot to push the Doctor’s fingers off the edge, but the Doctor heaved himself up with one hand and grabbed his ankle with the other!
Over the crowd, he could hear a voice he seemed to recognize, shouting, ‘Finish him off, Jenhegger!’
The Doctor was climbing up his leg! And he – the fighter chappie, rather – was trying to shake him off and...
‘Switch channels!’
‘What?’
‘Give it to me!’
The helmet was snatched from his head and with a sort of a bump he was back in the cell place.
Doctor’s rolling away from him and going for the sword,’ Sarah said. urgently. ‘He’s got it! And the gladiator is right on the edge and about to go over... and the Doctor is rushing across and he’s grabbed his hand and.. he’s pulled him hack! The Doctor’s saved his life!’
Even over the thunder of the crowd. Freeth’s scream of rage could be heard. He turned to the guard standing next to him. ‘Shoot him!’ he cried. ‘Shoot them both!’
But even as the man raised his gun, a voice boomed through the stadium, quietening the clamour and halting the guard.
‘No! The killing will stop! I, your President, order it!’
Unnoticed, the double doors had opened behind Freeth and the President’s wheelchair had appeared, pushed by Onya Farjen.
The President spoke again into the microphone in his hand. ‘Doctor. Jenhegger. Your fight is at an end.’
By the grumbling groundswell it was clear the audience was not pleased. But it was their beloved President who had spoken. There would be no trouble.
By now, the two combatants were walking back along the catwalk. As Jenhegger opened the gate into the Presidential box, he turned back to the Doctor. ‘You could have killed me.’ he said, trying to understand. ‘Why didn’t you kill me?’
The Doctor smiled. ‘My dear fellow,’ he replied, ‘what possible reason could I have for doing such a thing?’
They were greeted by Onya. ‘Are you all right, Doctor?’
She said.
‘A little puffed. I must admit,’ he answered.
The President wheeled himself forward. ‘I am a blind and foolish old man. Doctor. Can you ever forgive me?’
The Doctor nodded. ‘The past is dead,