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What are you staring at?
He remembered being a man. The blue-white sun that
burned over the mountains on the long summer evenings.
A childhood, adolescence among the debris of Kaled
encampments, games of Hunt the Thal played with sticks
and mutant beetles. His indoctrination and training, a
glittering career, the elite cadre, lovers, adrenalin, blood,
bone, sinew, feelings.
Ended by the war.
Ended by a Thal shell and a rush of radioactivity.
He remembered the smell of his own blood, pulsing
slowly from severed arteries, the taste of concrete dust in
his mouth, and the crackling of his own skin. He hurtled
blindly into darkness.
And then resurrection.
An age of pain and humiliation. He was reconstructed
with chrome and plastic, held together by tungsten wire.
They drilled sockets through his skull and threaded fibre-
optics into his forebrain.
He screamed when he saw himself for the first time. The
med-techs smashed him back into darkness with
anaesthetic. Questions were raised among the Kaled elite:
for all his brilliance, should such an abomination be
allowed to live? The psych-techs said there was an eighty-
six per cent probability, plus or minus ten percent, that he
would commit suicide within an hour of waking. A
decision was made let the creature prove his function, or
die.
They allowed him awareness once more and he looked
at himself again. The elite gave him a trigger linked to a
lethal dose of poison and then they left him.
He spent a long time examining the monstrosity he had
become, searching for some reason to live. His remaining
hand trembled on the switch that would kill him. With a
convulsive effort he twisted himself into his new shape. I
am but the idea, he thought, the seed, the dream. He saw a
purity, not in what he was, but in what he might become.
A being unbound by flesh and the stupidities that flesh
brings. A creature fit to hold dominion.
Carefully he put the trigger down. At a thought his chair
turned, a door opened and he slid out to face the Elite.
Give me what I want, he told them, and I will give you
victory. They provided for him, of course. It was their
destiny to serve his purpose.
Emperor on the bridge.
Now the low vibration of the Dalek ship sang a song of
power as he entered.
Report, he ordered.
Scan-op shunted data. We have located the Omega device.
Tack-op went on line, estimated troop deployments,
native and renegade, updated battle senarios,
bombardment patterns. Renegade agents are in the area, it
reported.
Prepare the assault shuttle, ordered the Emperor. They will
surrender the Omega device or be exterminated.
The girl was beginning to irritate Ratcliffe. Her cool gaze
was making him uncomfortable. Haven t you got a home
to go to? he demanded.
She just stared back unblinking, Ratcliffe realized
with a prickling of the flesh on his neck. He turned back to
his men. Put your backs into it, he shouted. We don t
have all day.
He could feel the girl s eyes on his back. He turned,
ready to lash out, threaten anything to make her leave.
The girl was gone.
With a sudden thrill Ace saw the Doctor come to life. With
a small movement of his hand he summoned Gilmore over.
The cafe became suddenly quiet and expectant.
Now that s style, thought Ace.
We need to establish a forward base at the school, said
the Doctor. Can it be done?
Gilmore nodded quickly and turned to Mike. Sergeant,
get Embery. Move in command units. Ace could hear the
confidence creeping back into Gilmore s voice. Establish
forward command, third floor, defensive positions on the
ground floor and the roof.
Mike hesitated over his second plate of chips.
Get a move on, snapped Gilmore, and Mike moved.
The Doctor s eyes were intense as the soldiers began
boiling out of the cafe. He s doing it again, thought Ace.
Rachel felt suddenly cold when she saw Ace grin.
Professor Jensen, Miss Williams, said Gilmore.
Ja wohl, said Allison quietly and stood up. Coming,
Professor Jensen?
Rachel put down her coffee and grabbed her coat. Of
course Miss Williams. I wouldn t miss this for the world,
she thought.
I wish Bernard was here.
The British Rocket Group has its own problems.
Ace sidled over to the counter and pinched a piece of toast.
What s so important about the school?
Now that I ve disabled the imperial Daleks transmat,
said the Doctor, absolutely nothing. The renegade Daleks
have the Hand of Omega and all Dalek attention will be
focused on that.
Oh.
The Doctor gave her a suspicious look. Well?
Nothing.
The Doctor stood up.
There is one thing.
What?
What are we doing?
Ah, said the Doctor and turned to leave.
I should have expected that, thought Ace. She decided it
was time to look for more explosives.
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