Ten Little Aliens Page 13

  ‘Well, you’re feeding us bull, Joiks.’ Creben shook his head as if amused by some private joke. ‘Since Toronto, Pent-Cent computers are guarded like spectrox. You think it’s likely Shel sneaked in and reprogrammed them just so they’d assign this place to us here and now?’

  Joiks spat on the floor. ‘Is it any likelier that DeCaster and Pallemar show up too, “here and now”?’

  ‘Maybe they did it,’ said Roba. ‘You know. Magic.’

  ‘Leave off!’ Ben protested. ‘Why would they want anyone to discover them here?’

  ‘There could be a reason,’ said Creben. ‘They’ve discovered a usefulness for us.’

  ‘They are dead,’ Tovel reminded him.

  ‘But we’re all travelling together. And where we’re going there could be anything waiting for us.’ Creben looked at each of them in turn, eyes unblinking. ‘Anything at all.’

  A long paralysing pause stretched out like the darkness of the tunnel facing them.

  ‘Are we going to stand around scaring each other stupid,’

  Ben said nervously, ‘or are we going to do what your guvnor told us to?’

  Tovel nodded. ‘But screw splitting into groups. We stay together.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Creben.

  The others nodded, none faster than Ben, and Roba led them off down the gloomy passageway.

  III

  Polly was staying well away from Haunt. Upon finding another missing corpse from the collection in the control room, the marshal’s cosy theory of natural disintegration was strained to breaking point; much like her patience with so many events all beyond her control.

  The Doctor was talking to Haunt now, quietly but forcefully outlining their recent discoveries and their position as he saw it.

  Polly could see it well enough herself. They were being toyed with by some unknown power. Bodysnatchers, taking the living and the dead. She didn’t want to think too closely about the possible reasons for that, nor why Morphiea appeared to be the asteroid’s destination.

  Nor why Shade and Shel, two soldiers who should’ve been in the peak of physical fitness, now seemed so sick.

  Shel’s pain went beyond his injured arm. He was twitching all over on his invisible bed, like a cloud of the fleas outside had followed him in and were biting like devils.

  Shade, on the other hand, was lying alarmingly still on the floor beside her. He had collapsed pretty much the moment he’d entered the room. It seemed Haunt had finally lost her shadow. Frog had burst open another force mattress to make him comfortable, but the scanner thing she’d brought out of the first aid box showed nothing untoward.

  Polly decided the Doctor was right not to trust these people’s machines. The skin on Shade’s face was like sticky red polythene stretched tight over dozens of tiny black limpets. His green eyes flickered open from time to time, looked blankly up at her. She couldn’t help staring at the tiny computer sticking out of his pocket. Lindey’s computer.

  Frog sat beside Shel, her scarred round head in her hands, looking bored. Occasionally Haunt would raise her voice at the Doctor, incredulous or angry, Polly couldn’t tell. And Shade’s eyes were closed. She reached her hand out to his pocket. No one would notice now if she took out the palm computer and had a little...

  ‘The Spooks have destroyed whole worlds to try and get their stupid secrets back!’ Haunt’s voice boomed out like gunfire as her patience reached its limit. Polly retreated from Shade and his secret for the moment as the tirade went on:

  ‘Why would they want to drag a tiny rock with ten soldiers in training to the heart of their empire?’

  The Doctor gave as good as he got. ‘I am simply postulating, madam, as to why we should be going to Morphiea if not at the Morphieans’ behest!’ he thundered.

  She didn’t answer back straight away, so the Doctor pressed home his advantage .’If the Schirr were to be captured by Morphiea it would mean certain death.’ He gestured sadly to the bodies behind their invisible barrier. ‘Perhaps they saw what was coming, and arranged for their own destruction.’

  Haunt nodded, suddenly subdued. It’s possible,’ was all she would concede. ‘How long till we arrive?’

  ‘There’s no way of telling,’ the Doctor announced, shaking his head. ‘Now, tell me. How did the Morphieans make you aware that they were responsible for the atrocities they committed?’

  ‘They made...’ Haunt’s lip curled scornfully, and Polly noticed one hand was clutched to her side. ‘They made what our poor little frightened scientists called “constructs”. Fleshy things, animated somehow. Don’t ask me to explain. The constructs were projected direct to Senate. They gloated, threatened us... The Spooks don’t care how many of us they kill. We’re just animals to them.’

  The Doctor looked at her steadily, ignoring her mounting anger. ‘They don’t have bodies as we do?’

  ‘Flesh is just a tool for their magic.’

  ‘So, the Morphieans have a mindforce of some kind.’ The Doctor chuckled suddenly, and turned to Frog. ‘I was considering the old, old links between the Schirr and the Morphieans you mentioned. One born, perhaps, from cult of the body on one side, and an elevation of the mind on the other.’

  Frog looked less than impressed with the Doctor’s theory.

  Shel, still convulsing silently with his lips bared back over his teeth, almost seemed to be laughing.

  ‘How would that ever bring them together?’ wondered Polly.

  ‘Each extreme still needs the other,’ said the Doctor. ‘Now.

  So far we only have part of the puzzle. For the bodies to have vanished from this platform, the protective force field must’ve been breached somehow.’

  ‘By the minds of the Morphieans...’ Polly shuddered.

  ‘Perhaps,’ the Doctor agreed genially, ‘but I’d rather like to try myself.’ He crouched down with some difficulty to study the newly discovered junction box beneath the corpse’s console. ‘Yes, this perhaps could be what I’m after...’

  Haunt looked on, rubbing her side more aggressively now.

  Maybe the insects had bitten her too. Remembering the pale, squashy fleas put Polly back in mind of her own discomfort.

  She gritted her teeth and resolved not to scratch.

  As the Doctor cautiously tinkered with the junction box, Shel suddenly stirred from his feverish shaking. ‘No,’ he said faintly, then again more forcefully. ‘No, stay away from that.’

  The Doctor looked up in surprise. ‘Young man, I assure you I am perfectly qualified to -’

  ‘Away.’ Shel got unsteadily to his feet. His eyes were narrow slits, his breath pushing out in sharp puffs.

  He was aiming a pistol at the Doctor.

  Polly opened her mouth, but couldn’t decide if she should beg him to put down the gun or just scream.

  Haunt was looking apoplectic. ‘Shel, what the hell are you doing?’

  ‘It’s him.’ Frog held herself still as a statue, just a few feet away from the gun in Shel’s shaking hand ‘He picked this place for us... he killed Denni and Lindey.’

  ‘That’s impossible,’ Haunt snapped. ‘Put the gun down, Shel.’

  ‘It must be him!’ gurgled Frog.

  Shel said nothing. It seemed to be taking all his concentration to keep the gun pointed at the Doctor, crouched before the junction box.

  The Doctor gazed fearlessly back at him. ‘What is the meaning of this, Shel? Answer me!’

  ‘Put the gun down, Shel,’ Haunt ordered, her voice rising.

  Shel convulsed, his face twisted in pain. There was the sound of a gun firing, and Polly gave a short, high yell. But the Doctor was unharmed.

  Haunt bellowed with rage. ‘No!’

  Frog was clutching her own pistol. She’d shot the gun from Shel’s hand. His mouth flapped open and closed now as he stared down at the bloody stumps of his fingers. Frog stared too, apparently fascinated. Polly looked away, sickened.

  Now Haunt leaped forward and held Shel in a necklock.

/>   ‘Be careful with him,’ the Doctor advised her.

  ‘Look!’ Frog moaned. ‘His arm.’

  Polly looked automatically, and her hand flew to her mouth.

  Metal points stuck through Shel’s gory finger-stumps. The skin hung away from a hole in the wrist, too, and Polly saw gleaming silver shafts and coloured wires.

  ‘He’s got an artificial arm,’ Haunt said, transfixed.

  ‘Away,’ Shel croaked. ‘Away.’ His cheek twitched faster and faster until a tiny metal coil burst through the skin, flecking his face with bright blood.

  ‘It’s not just his arm,’ Polly whispered. ‘It’s all of him. He’s a robot too.’

  Chapter Nine

  Nemesis

  I

  Shel’s face twisted with anger. Polly bit her lip as he pulled Haunt’s arm from his neck and shoved her backwards with inhuman strength. She rolled over and over across the floor.

  ‘We’ve been set up! Shel’s gonna kill all of us!’ Frog brought up her gun and fired again. A spark leapt from Shel’s chest.

  He swayed, then bashed the gun out of her grasp. Frog overbalanced and knocked against the Doctor, who gasped as he tried to stop her falling. He staggered back against the body in the chair, which skittered away on its castors.

  Shel swung round to face Polly.

  ‘Don’t hurt us,’ she pleaded. His eyes were unfocussed, glassy – or perhaps just glass.

  ‘Leave Polly alone,’ the Doctor commanded. ‘Whatever your purpose here, this girl has done you no harm.’

  Shel ignored him. He raised his rifle with his good hand.

  Polly backed away closer to Shade, who lay still and oblivious.

  Haunt was back on her feet. Her own rifle was aimed at Shel’s twitching head. ‘Put down the gun.’

  Shel lowered the rifle without bothering to turn round.

  ‘If you want to live, start talking.’ Haunt took a step closer.

  ‘Who sent you?’ Another step. ‘Who pushed you on to me?’

  Polly wasn’t sure if Shel’s mouth was opening with any intent to speak, or if whatever machinery controlled his lips was giving out like the rest of him.

  The Doctor slowly advanced on him, his arms raised. ‘Why are you really here, Shel?’

  ‘He’s here to kill all of us,’ Frog whined. ‘Whatever’s going on, he’s planned it all.’

  The Doctor looked at Shel more sternly, and swept an arm at the dais behind the console. ‘Did you arrange all this, sir?’

  Shel swung the rifle up and fired. The Doctor reeled back instinctively. Polly screamed as a bolt of light shot into the console beside him.

  At the same time Haunt opened fire on Shel, who staggered under the impact. He turned and ran for the exit, firing the rifle behind him apparently at random. A blast scorched past Polly’s shoulder before she could even react.

  Then something grabbed hold of her leg, and pulled. Mid-scream, she went down, as another blast shot overhead.

  Shade relaxed his grip on her calf. She almost wept with relief that nothing more sinister had got a hold of her, and wriggled over on her front to shelter beside his force mattress.

  ‘Frog, after him,’ Haunt bellowed.

  Polly decided it must be at least a little safer to get up now.

  She squeezed Shade’s hand to say thank you and cautiously rose to her feet. She glimpsed Frog as she sprinted through the doorway. Haunt had already vanished. The Doctor stood alone by the shattered console, inspecting the blackened hole carved out by Shel’s wild shot.

  ‘That could’ve been you,’ Polly said shakily.

  ‘Yes, I dare say it could,’ murmured the Doctor. ‘We must find out why. Shel’s badly damaged, he shouldn’t get far.’ He tutted. ‘Just look at this vandalism! My dear, would you check our new discovery beneath the console is undamaged, hmm?’ He rubbed his back meaningfully.

  Polly felt a little uneasy at the way the Doctor could seemingly forget all the violence they’d just lived through to concentrate on a bit of broken technology, but she crouched down obediently just the same. Beneath the console she saw the junction box was scorched and smoking. ‘Looks like this has had it.’

  ‘He’s managed to fuse the controls.’ The Doctor grimaced.

  ‘Dear, dear. And just as I was about to deactivate the force shield and study those bodies!’

  Polly looked at him doubtfully. ‘That was probably the point, wasn’t it?’

  Stamping feet made Polly turn. Haunt had re-entered the room. From the look on her face, Shel had got away.

  ‘Where’s Frog?’ asked Polly.

  ‘Outside, guarding the corridor,’ she said. ‘We couldn’t catch him. He moved too fast, even wounded like -’ She caught herself. ‘Even damaged like that.’

  Polly wondered how long Haunt had known Shel, how many secrets she’d trusted to him. She shook her head, walked over to the Doctor.

  ‘He was a most convincing human being,’ the Doctor murmured.

  Haunt snorted bitterly, as if suddenly recognising there had been something blindingly obvious about Shel’s deception all along. ‘You realise that only someone at the highest level in Pent Central would have access to the kind of technology needed to make a thing like that,’ she said quietly. ‘Frog’s right. They assigned him to my unit so he could lead us into this trap. We have to find him. Find out what he’s been planning, and why.’ She raised her wrist to her lips. ‘I’ll alert the others to be ready for him.’

  She began by calling Creben.

  Nothing but reedy static greeted her in response.

  Tovel? Joiks? Roba?’

  Polly felt a chill shiver down her. If anything, the shushing of the static was growing louder, angrier.

  Haunt swore. ‘Right. I’ll just have to tell them in person.’

  ‘You’re leaving us here?’ Polly asked.

  Haunt paused briefly in the doorway. ‘Watch the bodies.

  Watch Shade.’

  That said, she turned and left.

  Polly waited until she was sure the woman had gone, then ran over to the TARDIS. The door wouldn’t budge. She let out a heavy sigh of disappointment. ‘If you’d shut down their invisible barrier thing, we might’ve been able to get back into the TARDIS.’

  ‘Yes, quite so,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘I do wish I knew what sort of a stasis field is operating here. Until I do, and can find a way to counteract it, I’m afraid none of us are really safe.’

  ‘Safe,’ Polly said numbly. The word seemed to have lost its meaning. She leaned back against the police box’s stubborn doors and stared up. The endless fragments of glass set into the high ceiling sparkled reflected light at her eyes, and she closed them wearily. ‘I do hope Ben’s all right.’

  ‘He’s a resourceful young man,’ the Doctor said, as if this was a talisman against evil and all Ben needed.

  Polly’s eyes snapped back open as Shade cried out suddenly. She found it hard to believe such a high-pitched, childish sound could come from a man so big. ‘Watch Shade,’

  Haunt had told them. Polly thought back to her earlier suspicions. They seemed somehow foolish now. Shel was the bad guy, not Shade. Hadn’t Shade saved her life when the guns were firing, dragging her to the floor? As she walked back over to the Doctor, her cheeks prickled. She realised she was blushing.

  ‘Are you all right, my child?’ the Doctor asked, glancing up at her.

  Caught off guard, Polly gave her cheeks a token scratch and shrugged. ‘My, er, skin. It feels sore, itchy. Like sunburn.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Only I could get a sunburn in the middle of an underground cavern.’

  The Doctor could only be half-listening, because he seemed to take her perfectly seriously. ‘It isn’t the sunburn that causes the itching,’ he said. ‘That is caused by the skin healing itself.’

  Polly politely mulled over this nugget of information until Shade shouted out again.

  ‘Go to him,’ the Doctor said softly, still staring at the useless console. ‘See
what you can do to help.’

  Polly nodded, and crossed back over towards Shade. ‘What is it, what’s the matter?’

  ‘My face,’ Shade whimpered as she came close; but by then there was no need for the explanation. His skin had become a sticky black mess. Fresh blood dribbled steadily down into his ears, teeth and hair. His teeth were clenched, every muscle she could see was bunched up with tension, and his body shook as if racked with silent sobs. ‘What’s happening to me?’ he said, grinding out each word. ‘My face feels like it’s tearing apart.’

  It is, Polly wanted to tell him, as her own eyes welled up with tears. She scratched the back of her itching neck. I think it is.

  I

  After all the endless trudging through the dank tunnels, stooped and squashed and single-file, Ben was pleasantly surprised when Roba led him, Joiks and Tovel into some kind of vast vaulted chamber, roughly pentagonal in shape.

  The luminous weed hung down in thick strands, danced around by the usual attendant fleas. There were even piles of it on the floor. In the for wall was another tunnel, as dark and uninviting as all the others. There had been several narrow channels leading off from the main passage on their journey, but they’d decided to stick to the A-roads first. If they had to double back up a B-road and scarper at any point, Ben wanted to know what they’d be running into.

  So for now it was the five towering stone pillars dominating the room that grabbed Ben’s attention. They were arranged in the same pattern as the dots on a dice or a domino. At the top of the two columns nearest Ben, there rested duplicate pairs of oversized stone babies with angel wings. They looked like they’d scoffed a few rusks too many. Nothing crowned the pillar in the centre, nor the one behind it to the left. But the final column supported four of the ugly statues, crowded together with their backs to any onlookers, like they were up to something. The overall effect of the design left Ben feeling strangely uncomfortable. There was no logic to it. Modern art, he supposed.