7.

Dungeons and Dinosaurs

The Doctor ran; not because he expected it to help, but rather in the absence of a better plan. Had it wished to, the tyrannosaurus could have outstripped him easily. But luck was with him and the great creature didn't seem interested in making him its dinner.

Which was odd, he thought, although he wasn't prepared to argue about it.

He burst out of the trees and froze at the sight of another beast. A brontosaurus, grazing placidly for now on gra.s.s. Now you,' he muttered, 'don't even exist. You're no more than a mistake made by Earth palaeontologists.'

The dinosaur didn't hear him, or didn't care. It craned its long neck upwards and plucked a red flower from one of the tall trees. The Doctor eyed it warily as he edged stealthily around the clearing.

The brontosaurus was reputed to be a herbivore. But, under the circ.u.mstances, he felt justified in wondering if it knew that.

The bedroom was obviously unused, furnished only with a large, gilt-framed bed and an empty white cabinet beside it. The walls gave its location away, their familiar roundelled design identifying the Doctor's TARDIS as surely as a fingerprint.

The prisoner was stirring and beginning to pull against the thick ropes which encircled her wrists and bound her to the bedstead. Jason ran a hand through his untidy, bleached blond hair, then looked down at her and smiled.

'Enjoy your sleep?' he asked, because he thought that was clever.

She spoke venomously. 'Who are you? What have you done 59 to the Doctor?'

'Why, captured him of course. He's in Galactic Prison, where you'll soon be joining him.'

'What are you babbling about?'

Jason put on a pitying expression. 'You didn't think you could get away with it, did you? We'll get your other four partners-in-crime too, soon. That'll serve you right!' He stuck out his tongue, thinking that was clever too. The door slid open behind him and Dr Who sidled into the room.

Melanie almost exploded with relief. 'Doctor! At last! Will you tell this overgrown schoolboy who I am?'

The newcomer spoke tersely. 'I'm afraid, Miss Bush, you've mistaken me for my own evil doppelganger.'

'Your what?'

'You know him. The result of a tragic experiment gone wrong, my own dark side magnified and given form. He calls himself simply "The Doctor". And my companion, Jason, and I have dedicated ourselves to ridding the universe of his malign influence.'

'Which means you,' Jason put in. She gaped at him.

'You will be taken to Galactic Prison and questioned.'

'What are you talking about? What am I supposed to have done?'

Dr Who's face blackened and his voice was a threatening growl. 'You dare ask that? You wiped out the Seven Planets in the Althosian System, left Silurian Earth to a lingering death and, even now, have friends plotting to destroy a civilized world!'

'Wait a minute, I've never even been to this Althosian System or whatever. And I certainly don't know what Silurian Earth is.'

Jason looked expectantly from one to the other; both faces were resolute and angry. But Dr Who gave in first, his manner changing rapidly. When he spoke again, he seemed quite cheerful. 'Oh yes, I remember. You're the first, aren't you?

Those big crimes were after your time.'

Jason joined in. 'But I'm sure you've been just as naughty as the others, all the same.'

60.'Maybe you'll receive a shorter sentence,' Dr Who said kindly.

The abandoned portions of the city had always held an attraction for Kat. Designed in the good old days, when the sun still shone and no one really thought about the practicalities of maintaining an underground civilization, these areas had been evacuated in the Ruling Family's first attempts to save power by keeping the population close. They remained dark but for their own faint luminescence and for the candles and electrical appliances which people brought to them. And, to a barely post-adolescent girl, they carried an aura of excitement and of delicious subversion.

Today, it was different. Today, the disused a.s.sembly hall which was Mortannis's home base this month was playing host to agony and death; to the weeping and shattered remnants of what had once been a proud race.

The surviving lizards were lying on rotten wooden benches sh.o.r.ed up by stones, or on the cold floor, shivering beneath thin banners proclaiming rebellious messages which seemed pointless now. There were few more than a dozen left, many bleeding from their ears and noses, finding scant relief in the meagre medical rations which had been collected thus far.

Mort's people, recalled from their demonstration, stood subdued, still trying to take in the reality of this casual slaughter. There was little they, or anyone, could do. Even Kat was reduced to gripping Thruskarr's hand and praying for his recovery. His eyes were bandaged, but he seemed aware of her presence and she believed he was comforted by it.

'I thought you were dead,' she kept mumbling gratefully. He squeezed her hand tighter and it seemed he was trying to talk.

But his voice was a painful, rasping wheeze and she touched his shoulder gently, a sign that it was okay to just rest.

Kat wiped her eyes and became aware that Mort had approached. He was by her shoulder, looking at Thruskarr sadly. 'He's one of the lucky ones, if that's any consolation.'

She smiled, knowing now that he had been aware of their friendship; knowing also that it didn't change a thing.

61.'What's happening?'

'Bobstan and Haw'ten are trying to get into a lizard hospital and bring medical equipment back. The patrol groups have been calling in and they've found casualties, but . . . well, not many.

It looks like, whatever happened, it happened everywhere.' He looked about the room. 'What you see here is probably the majority of the reptilian race.'

Kat felt as if she couldn't react to that. Not yet. She might cry later, when grief rushed in to fill the gap in her stomach.

Whenever she closed her eyes now, she saw fire and blood.

'We could have more trouble too,' said Mort, the catalogue of horrors continuing to unfold relentlessly. 'Enros's followers are moving. They've got wind of all this and are claiming that Divine Retribution has been visited on the lizards by the Miracle.'

'That's stupid!'

'Whatever. They're canva.s.sing and they seem to be gaining converts. I think they've even got some of our lot. We've had a few missing in the last hour.'

'What happened, Mort? Why has it all gone wrong?'

Mortannis shook his head miserably. Kat turned her attention back to Thruskarr, his survival the only light of this bleak day.

He had settled into a fitful doze.

'I found him out there, you know. He was on his knees like the others, howling and shrieking. I . . . I prayed to the Miracle to save him. I know I shouldn't, but I keep feeling the need recently.'

Mort slipped an arm around her. He knew.

'Funny thing is, I felt like my prayers had been answered.

Most of the others died, but he didn't. It's as though Thruskarr survived because I personally wished for it.'

She faced her brother and stared intently into his liquid brown eyes. 'But that's impossible, isn't it?'

Roslyn Forrester snapped into alert mode and crouched beside a rack of Edwardian dinner jackets. Backed up against a clunky s.p.a.cesuit, she strained to see past a collection of fur-hooded anoraks. Characteristically, the contents of this, one of the 62 TARDIS's many wardrobes (wardrobe? More like a department store!), were arranged in no logical order. She had hoped the chaotic layout of its many shelves might help her remain un.o.bserved here. But her ears were telling her that someone was in the room now, stalking her. She held her gun ready and tried to hold her breath too. If she was to be detected, she would make somebody regret their discovery.

The intruder stepped into view and Roz tried not to laugh.

'What have they done to you?' she said, affectionately. She leaned over and took Wolsey gently by the neck. She unb.u.t.toned his cape and removed the mask. The cat shook his head, glad to be free of the impositions. He darted off to her right, enthralled by the dangling belt of a blue, woolly dressing gown which hung against one wall.

She slumped onto the floor and allowed her heart to resume its natural pace, the cat's antics a pleasant enough diversion.

She had spent several hours now as a fugitive in her own home and she was tired of that situation. The problem was, she couldn't think of much to do about it.

This hadn't promised to be such an eventful day. Not for her, at least. She remembered arguing for the dangerous job and losing it to Chris on the toss of a coin. One good sulk later, she'd returned to the console room to see the Doctor off and execute her depressingly simple duties. He had been at the controls, his back to her. She had been about to walk in when she had realized he was also unconscious, sprawled on the floor.

It didn't take long to work out which Doctor was which: the fallen one wore the crumpled, cream linen suit which Roz had rarely seen him out of. The Doctor who was still standing wore checked trousers and a pullover too stupid and ostentatious for even him. But as she had made to tackle him, he had vanished, to reappear on the far side of the room and continue his work as if he hadn't seen her. The TARDIS had landed shortly thereafter and he had stepped outside without so much as a word of acknowledgement of Roz's presence. She had heard his voice, recognizably the Doctor's own, floating in through the open doors. 'And where might the TARDIS have brought me 63 this time?'

That was when she had remembered that discretion was the better part of valour. She had secretly watched from the far side of the inner doors as the doppelganger had re-entered, a young man alongside him: twenty-five, she estimated, dressed in ripped jeans and a plain black T-shirt.

'I'm looking forward to this,' the ersatz Doctor had said.

haven't had a travelling companion since John and Gillian left for the Zebadee University.'

'I should make the effort to look the part then.'

Roz had watched, agog, as the air molecules around the young man had seemed to ripple and whirl into a miniature hurricane effect. The next instant, he was dressed in a grey shirt, black flannel blazer and short grey pants.

Whatever was going on, she had thought, a full frontal attack was not likely to accomplish much. Not when the hijackers possessed such powers. She had bided her time as the real Doctor was dragged out of the ship (although she had rushed to the console and checked the coordinates they had left him at) and during that episode on Arcalis, which she had watched on the scanner screen but still didn't understand.

She had locked the doors, but that didn't keep them out. She had tried stealing the TARDIS whilst they were on Detrios, but its controls were far more complicated than she'd known. So when she had heard they were going after the Doctor's 'accomplices', Roz had crossed her fingers and prayed that Benny or Cwej might join her. Fat chance.

She didn't know the girl they had collected from Avalone, but judging by the way she had walked straight into the pair's ambush, it didn't seem worth making the effort. Besides, she had not been left unattended for more than a minute yet.

So, Forrester asked herself, as Wolsey grew bored of his sport and scampered away, what do I do now?

It's a good job I hadn't yet moved into the Citadel,' the Superior said, the opinion sounding like immutable fact when expressed by her smooth, icy voice. 'The finest monument to the Detrian people and you let it be destroyed!'

64.Darnak hurried to keep three paces behind as she strode with long, a.s.sured steps through the underground city. By her side, Merrioc kept pace as if her equal. In fact, he was only of Darnak's rank, but the Superior had always favoured the taller, slimmer, blacker and more self-a.s.sured Politik.

'Th-that's not quite what happened, Superior,' he babbled, desperate to curry favour, 'it was an unexpected attack -'

She stopped and turned to face him. Darnak skidded to a halt, swallowed and dropped his eyes away from her smooth bald head and hard, angular but strangely attractive features. 'Ahh.

Your giant lizard monster, of course. Of which there is no sign.'

Darnak's throat felt dry, but the fear that she might send him to the noose loosened his tongue. 'But I - I got rid of the lizards.'

The Superior seemed amused, although it was hard to tell. 'A natural phenomenon, more likely. I have investigators looking into it.'

Darnak fell silent and trembled in her shadow. Like all the Ruling Family, she was pure-bred and so black that she practically glistened in the dim light. Reputedly, even her eyes were like obsidian pools - though few had dared look into them to check. She dressed deliberately to accentuate the effect: her flowing black gown was made of a material which sometimes absorbed light, other times reflected it in criss-cross patterns of silver. She was black like mystery and like lethal temptation, and Darnak was terrified of her.

'All right,' she said finally. 'I know you believe what you say - you wouldn't dare lie to me. But the fact remains that you mishandled last night's problem totally. At the least, you should have alerted me to the situation.'

Darnak opened his mouth to protest, but it didn't seem worth it. The Superior swept away, Merrioc by her side, and he hurried after them.

'Fortunately,' the Superior continued, 'I have Merrioc here to rely on. Whilst you were b.u.mbling about and setting our rebuilding schedule back by months, he handled our other little difficulty admirably.' Merrioc shouldn't even have been on 65 duty last night, Darnak thought resentfully. He wanted to punch the creep's face in!

Merrioc turned and addressed him in the smug, haughty tones which Darnak loathed. 'We had intruders in the Miracle itself.

However, I was able to get a fix on one and transmat him here.'

They rounded a corner and approached the detention area.

Two guards moved aside to allow them access, and they pa.s.sed through the security door and by the political malcontents who had been left to fester in two rows of iron-barred dungeons.

In the final cell was an alien: a man with the same unhealthy complexion that Dr Who and Jason had possessed. He was tall, handsome and of an athletic build, but he had obviously been in a fight and his grey coveralls were wet and blood-stained. He lay on the single bunk, breathing shallowly, evidently sleeping.

'Disgusting, clear-skinned animal!' the Superior commented with distaste. She turned to Merrioc. 'Does this thing have a name?'

'I believe it calls itself "Quedge", ma'am.'

The Superior nodded. 'I require efficiency in this matter Merrioc, so I will leave it with you. Take him to the Security Chief and find out what his friend is up to in our Miracle.

Whilst you're at it, arrange an immediate round-up of all rebels.

They obviously partic.i.p.ated in whatever happened last night.'

Merrioc nodded courteously and headed off to obtain the cell keys.

Darnak coughed nervously. 'What should I do, Superior?'

'Just get out of my sight!' she said.

At last, when he could hear no more noises, the Doctor came to a breathless halt and mopped his brow. He started as the ground shook and a cascade of leaves fell. But then nothing further happened and he sank down against the trunk of an old tree, exhausted.

He had to think about this, to work out what was happening.

He knew now that the forest, the whole world he was on, was real. But the dinosaurs, somehow, weren't. What had happened to him after dropping Benny and Chris off?

The distant roar of one of the creatures was carried to him on 66 the wind and he knew that he didn't have long. All too suddenly, it was on him and he ran again. Another tyrannosaurus - and this one had spotted him and was hungry.

Luckily, the huge trees impeded its progress. But in the clash between animal and vegetable matter, animal won, and those trees came crashing down violently around the Doctor's ears. It occurred to him as he fled that the dinosaurs couldn't have been here long, else it would have been impossible for the dense forest to grow. There was no time, he told himself sternly, for such conjecture.

He circled and headed back to the clearing in which he had first arrived, although he had no plan beyond a desperate hope of outlasting his pursuer. Then, like a glittering lifeline, he felt a familiar part of his brain buzzing. Salvation was at hand.

His hearts pumping, his legs aching and the monster breathing hot drizzle down his neck, the Doctor hurled himself into a precisely chosen spot. He reached out through his telepathic link and implored the approaching TARDIS to hurry.