Doctor Who_ Winner Takes All - Jacqueline Rayner [60]
* * *
EIGHTEEN
Mickey was still flustered. The panic stations of a few minutes ago had passed: Jason and Kevin had guided their players out of the Mantodean stronghold, and everything was plain sailing from then on. The Doctor had stopped giving him directions via Rose. But everything else had stopped too. Anil had stopped trying to persuade this guy to play the game the way they wanted, because he’d stopped responding to his messages.
There had still been a couple of consoles left untested, and Mickey had been itching to try them, fully aware that any delay could mean the difference between life and death for the person at the other end, but he’d had to wait for Jason or Kevin to get their player in place. Kevin got there first, and Mickey yanked out the connecting lead and plugged in the first of the remaining games. No go. He’d tried the next. The same. No stored game.
And so it had stopped, for now, until it was time for the last stage of the Doctor’s plan. But he still had people’s fates in his hands, which was hugely unfair. If he’d wanted that sort of responsibility he’d have become a doctor or a soldier or something. But he hadn’t. Nobody had asked him if he’d wanted this. Rose had chosen to get mixed up in all this stuff, he’d just got caught in her slipstream, and they all expected him to just get on with it. Well, actually the Doctor probably expected him to fail miserably. But no one had given him a choice. Ask, ‘Mickey, do you want to get involved in this saving the world stuff, yes or no?’ and he’d say no. Who would? But when you’re already involved, when you’re in the middle of stuff, no decent human being could walk away. It really wasn’t fair at all.
‘Is that it then?’ asked Kevin. ‘Can we go home now?’
Mickey shook his head. ‘Nah. We’ve got the real work ahead of us now.’ But as he sat there, flustered and thinking desperately, he hadn’t a clue how they were going to do it.
* * *
‘Twenty‐four.’
‘What are we going to do?’ yelled Robert. ‘That thing –’ he gestured at the Quevvil called Gerdix – ‘can’t answer. It’s frozen!’
The Doctor looked at Gerdix. Then he looked at Robert. ‘Control box!’ he said suddenly.
Robert grabbed the silver control box, and passed it to the Doctor. The Doctor started poking around in it at top speed, speaking very fast at the same time. ‘This has roughly the same function as the control pad, and if I could modify that I can modify this. Wish I had my sonic screwdriver… There!’
‘Fifteen seconds.’
The Doctor waved the box at the Quevvil. It gave a faint shudder.
‘Reorganised the connections, like I did with Rose,’ said the Doctor. ‘I expect it’s quite unpleasant. Poor Rose. Come on, come on…’
‘Eight seconds.’
The Doctor kept jabbing away at the controls. Finally, after at least three lifetimes, the Quevvil responded.
‘Five seconds.’
Gerdix sprang over to the intercom with a grace that seemed totally inappropriate in a giant porcupine.
‘Four seconds.’
The Doctor kept manipulating the controls. The Quevvil reached up a paw and hit a button.
‘Three seconds.’
The Doctor did something that looked extremely complicated. Nothing happened.
‘Two seconds.’
‘Ah! I forgot…’ The Doctor twisted a knob.
‘One second.’
‘Frinel, this is Gerdix.’
There was a snort from the other end. ‘Gerdix! Why have you not responded before? Why could Herryan not gain access?’
‘There was a… a power surge. We temporarily lost control of the communicator. And the door locks. And the controller was unable to command his carrier. All power is now restored. All functions will revert to normal.’
Robert waited with bated breath. Would it work?
Frinel replied, ‘Very well. We are anxious to see the carrier continue. You will proceed as planned.’
Robert grinned, and gave the Doctor a thumbs‐up. The Doctor dropped the silver control box on the floor, and sighed deeply. ‘Making me sink to their level,’ he muttered angrily. He thumped the chair arm, and kicked out with a foot, knocking the control box away. ‘This is too much! Making people dance around like