‘That’s not how they work. The Cineraria don’t go for the crash-bam-boom stuff you lot like. Evolved on a gas planet, see – combustible weapons not such a clever idea. Oh no, they go for something more imaginative.’ The Doctor pointed at the window. ‘Like those things out there. They’re going to destroy the Earth.’
Professor Morris, seemingly oblivious to the tension between Grant and the Doctor, nodded enthusiastically. ‘We call them whales.’
‘Because of the singing,’ Martha said. She’d realised, of course, that it wasn’t really whale song when they’d heard it in the TARDIS, but there had been a slow, mournful quality to it that had reminded her of huge yet graceful mammals gliding majestically through the deep.
Except whales were benign, Martha reminded herself. If the Doctor was to be believed, and she would never doubt him, the gas-guzzling creatures floating above the world – her world – were anything but.
‘Don’t you think it’s just a little too good to be true?’ the Doctor demanded, loud enough to drown out the balloon creature’s liquid voice. ‘Some alien mob just turns up, out of the blue, offering to put everything right after you lot have wrecked it? I mean, talk about not looking a gift horse – sorry, gift blob – in the mouth. How naive can you get?’
‘That’s enough,’ Grant snapped.
‘They’ll destroy your planet!’
‘So you keep saying. Prove it.’
The Doctor grimaced. ‘Ah, well here’s the thing. I can’t actually prove it. Not as such. But give me enough time and I will.’
‘Time is something we don’t have.’ Grant looked pointedly at his watch. ‘Now, if you continue to cause a disturbance I’ll have you removed.’
‘You just try.’ Martha clapped a hand to her mouth. The words had come out without her meaning them to.
‘Very well,’ Grant said, and pressed a button on his watch. Immediately a metal door set into the wall behind him hissed open and half a dozen guards poured into the room. Martha remembered how Grant had been fiddling with the watch when he’d first approached them. They must have been waiting outside all along, alerted by their boss the moment he’d seen her and the Doctor.
The security chief’s smile was as cold as space. ‘My colleagues will escort you to your quarters. Some rest might calm your nerves.’
The Doctor took a couple of steps back. ‘Now, let’s not be too hasty. All right, so we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot. How about we have a nice cup of tea and a natter, start all over again?’
‘Best do as he says, Doctor,’ Morris said.
Martha’s eyes flicked from Grant and his heavies to the Doctor – who, she noticed, was backing further away from them. She edged towards him, knowing the best place to be in a crisis was at his side.
‘You know what? You’re absolutely right,’ the Doctor answered. ‘The only problem is – I’m not very good at doing what I’m told.’
With that he raised one arm, sonic screwdriver in his hand. Its tip glowed blue and all hell broke loose. In a heartbeat the muted lighting turned flashing red and the deafening scream of a siren made Martha cover her ears. She could see Grant barking orders but couldn’t hear a word.
Then the Doctor was grabbing her hand, pulling her away. ‘Run!’
She didn’t need to be told a second time. They raced back along the aisle between the workstations towards the main double doors the Doctor had led her through just minutes before. To Martha’s horror, they were slowly sliding shut.
‘Come on, faster!’
She didn’t think she could go any faster, but the thought of being trapped in there with Grant’s thugs spurred her on. They sprinted the last few yards and only just squeezed through before the doors closed with a heavy thud.
Had there been any guards on the other side she and the Doctor would have run straight into them, but the corridor was deserted. Martha leaned against the wall, gulping down air, heart thumping. How she envied the Doctor who, despite his 900 years, didn’t seem at all out of breath.
He flashed the sonic screwdriver over a keypad at the side of the doorway, fanning the air when sparks cascaded out and a scorching smell filled the corridor. ‘Sorry! Smoking – terrible habit. You all right, Martha? Only you look a bit peaky.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said. Her legs trembled so badly she could barely stand but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it, not with his warped sense of humour. ‘What did you do back there?’
‘Fire alarm – brilliant, eh? I noticed the sensors on the ceiling and knew the doors would close automatically because that’s what always happens in the films. But we can’t stand here gassing. Remember the way back to the TARDIS?’
Martha recalled the blur of endless corridors, lit by cold white overhead strip lights, remembered the lifts and all those left and right turns that had finally led them here. ‘No,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘Sorry.’
The Doctor flashed his teeth. ‘Don’t be! I need to get back there quickly, and I want you to lead Grant’s goons away.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Just keep moving for as long as you can. And stay on this floor – that way you can’t inadvertently lead them to the TARDIS. They’ll have the doors open before long, so the more time you can buy me, the quicker I can put things right.’
‘How bad is it?’
The Doctor stared at her sombrely. ‘End of the world bad.’
‘Right, well, perhaps you’d better get going, Doctor Smith.’
‘I will, Doctor Jones. Try to stay out of trouble.’ With that he dashed down the corridor towards the nearest lift.
Martha knew she had to wait for Grant and his men to actually see her if she was going to lead them away from the TARDIS. At least she didn’t have to wait long. The Doctor had only just stepped into the lift when the double doors behind her hissed and began to slide open.
‘Here we go,’ she groaned, and started to run.
‘Stop!’ she heard Grant cry out, followed seconds later by the sound of footsteps pounding along the corridor after her.
When she came to an intersection she took the corridor to her left, going right at the next one she reached. Martha forced herself to concentrate on running, rather than thinking about what Grant would do when he finally caught her.
Soon her breath was rasping in her throat, her chest was burning and she had to fight to ignore the stitch that flared in her side. If only she could be sure the Doctor had reached the TARDIS by now, she needn’t be so worried about leading them away.
‘Stop where you are!’
The bellowed command from behind only spurred her on. Walls blurred as Martha, teeth clenched against the pain, raced along the corridor. Now she could hear pounding footsteps closing in on her. Another junction loomed. Martha veered left, crying out when she banged her elbow as she took the turn too quickly.
Ahead she spied a lift, doors open. The Doctor had told her to stay on this floor, but he wasn’t the one with a pack of goons on his tail. Martha was certain they’d taken the elevator up to get here, so as long as she didn’t go back down she couldn’t lead them to the TARDIS.
She staggered into the lift and saw from the display that she was on the thirteenth floor. Bad omen, she thought as she hit the button for the twenty-fifth at random. Shouts made her look round. Grant was leading a handful of guards down the corridor towards her. They were only a few yards away.
‘Come on!’ Martha screamed at the doors.
‘Going somewhere?’ Grant taunted.
‘Yeah,’ said Martha as the doors slid shut. ‘Up.’
The last thing she saw before they closed was Grant, face contorted with anger, sprinting towards her. A second later she heard the boom of fists upon metal.
The lift ascended and Martha’s spirits rose with it. She’d outfoxed Grant. No doubt he’d be after her as soon as she got to the twenty-fifth floor, but by the time he found her the Doctor would surely have had all
the time he needed.
Score one for the good guys, Martha thought, smiling.
The smile disappeared as quickly as her hopes when the lift juddered to a halt, almost knocking her off her feet. Then it slowly descended.
‘No!’ She jabbed button after button but it made no difference.
Grant must have been able to override the lift. OK, she might as well be philosophical about it. She’d given him a good run and now it was over.
As there was no point trying to escape, Martha decided to play it cool. When the doors swished open, she was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted to one side. ‘Care to join me?’
Grant looked like thunder. ‘You and I are going to have a little talk. I’m going to find out what you two are really up to.’
Before he could reach in and grab her, she pushed herself away from the wall and strolled casually out of the lift. ‘Come on, then. I haven’t got all day.’
The guards looked uncertainly at Grant.
‘I’ll take her back to control,’ he snapped, no doubt furious at having his authority undermined. ‘You find that friend of hers.’
Martha could only hope she had bought the Doctor enough time.
‘We can do this the easy way or the hard way,’ Grant snarled once the guards had stomped off out of sight.
‘Very original. For your sake we’ll make it the easy way.’ Martha turned and, without a backwards glance, began walking along the corridor. Grant swore and went after her. At least he made no effort to grab her, to try to regain some authority by taking control of the situation. Better yet, he kept pace in silence. Only when it became clear Martha was lost did he lead the way. Not that he was taking a risk; Martha knew he’d easily catch her if she tried to run.
The atmosphere in the control centre had changed. When she walked in, all heads turned her way and the looks she was given ranged from suspicious to downright hostile. Even Professor Morris was scowling as he marched up to them, waving a finger at Martha.
‘What on earth is going on? And where’s Doctor Smith?’
Martha shrugged, realising she could still help the Doctor by keeping silent.
‘I have men searching for him,’ Grant said. ‘He can’t hide for ever.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Morris said. ‘We’re trying to save the world. What could you possibly hope to achieve with all this… nonsense?’
Martha looked away from him, towards the overhead screens.
The Doctor looked straight back at her.
‘Hello,’ he said cheerfully, giving a little wave.
‘What the hell?’ Grant’s cheeks flushed with anger when he realised the Doctor had hijacked every screen in the room. Martha saw the TARDIS console in the background and sighed with relief. She’d been worried Grant’s men might have found him but behind those old doors he was safe.
‘Martha, look – I’m on the telly!’
Grant rounded on Martha. ‘How’s he doing this?’
‘You tell me.’
‘Now then,’ the Doctor continued. ‘I suppose you’ve got a million questions but they’re just going to have to wait. See, while you lot were running around like headless chickens, some of us were working.’
‘Tell me,’ Grant said. ‘Or you’ll only make it worse for yourself.’
‘I don’t know how he’s doing it, all right?’ And that was the truth. The Doctor moved in mysterious ways, when he wasn’t jumping about, getting all excited.
‘And guess what? I worked it all out! Although to be fair, it wasn’t that much of a challenge, not for me at any rate. Where was I? Oh yeah, I know.’
The Doctor’s face suddenly vanished from the screen, to be replaced by a close-up shot of one of the floating bio-forms. Martha grimaced at the sight of it. The thing was a shapeless grey bubble studded with gill-like protrusions. Various parts of it bulged and then flattened out as it drew in and discharged gases. While there was nothing to provide a sense of scale, she already knew it was huge.
‘Now listen,’ the Doctor’s voice piped up.
A high-pitched keening echoed around the control room, followed by a sonorous rumbling. Seconds later the unearthly duet replayed itself.
‘Yeah, I know, it sounds like whale song. But it’s not. What you’re hearing are encoded signals.’
Morris frowned. ‘What’s he talking about?’
‘One signal goes out from each beastie, transmitting how much gas they’ve stored up. The other responds with instructions to maintain position.’
‘He’s insane,’ Grant hissed. ‘He can’t prove anything.’
‘Until, that is,’ the Doctor said, ‘I do this.’
The signal changed. The whale song became a harsh trilling. Immediately the creature ceased undulating. Gasps of horror filled the room as it began to sink, slowly spiralling down with its lethal cargo towards Earth.
‘My God,’ Morris gasped, staring through the window.
Martha looked out and immediately saw something was wrong. The creatures’ movements were no longer random. Instead they were drifting in formation across the globe. ‘What are they doing?’ she asked, not expecting an answer.
‘Taking up position,’ the Doctor said, striding into the room, sonic screwdriver in his hand. ‘They know we’re on to them.’
Grant made a move towards him.
The Doctor shook his head sharply. ‘Remember what happened the last time you tried?’
Grant eyed the screwdriver and backed off.
‘I don’t understand,’ Martha said, eyes flicking from the Doctor to the screen. It had frozen, and his unmoving face stared back at her.
‘That? I recorded it before I left the TARDIS – just added a simple time delay.’
‘Yeah, but why?’
‘I had to get everyone’s attention or Mr Grouch here wouldn’t have given me the chance to prove my point.’
‘You’ve doomed everyone,’ Grant scowled.
The Doctor rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t be so dramatic. I just hacked the signal and made one of them think it had been ordered to drop.’
‘You killed it?’ Martha asked.
‘They’re not sentient beings, Martha, just big windbags with tiny nervous systems that can only respond to basic commands.’ He brushed past them to the nearest workstation. ‘That one will come down smack in the middle of the Atlantic. No one gets hurt. Oh, and the creature itself will probably survive, if that makes you feel any better.’
‘What about the rest?’ Morris was staring anxiously at the creatures. ‘It wouldn’t take many to wipe out a city.’
‘So you do believe me! Brilliant!’
‘He might, but I don’t,’ Grant said through gritted teeth. ‘That thing only went down because you interfered. Now you’ve set the rest of them off.’
‘You still don’t get it, do you?’
‘Doctor!’ Martha cried. The creatures had suddenly picked up speed and were now racing across the globe.
‘All right, keep your shirt on. Those things don’t exactly rush.’
‘They’re rushing now.’
The Doctor glanced out and frowned. ‘Clever… they’re using the gas to propel themselves,’ he muttered, and then started flashing the sonic across the workstation.
Martha said nothing, not wanting to break his concentration.
Morris joined her. The professor flinched as the swarming creatures broke up into clusters of swirling patterns, high above the continents.
Martha looked anxiously at the Doctor. Whatever he was doing, she wished he would hurry up and get on with it. Time was running out.
‘They’ll hit the cities first,’ the Doctor called, eyes fixed on the workstation. ‘Kill billions at a stroke and then wait for the gas cloud to finish the rest.’
‘Can’t the military take them out with missiles?’ Martha asked.
‘Yeah, except you’d have a massive explosion instead of a burst of lethal gas – not much of an improvement.’ He waved his free han
d dismissively, obviously trying to focus on what he was doing. From the grim expression on his face it wasn’t going well. ‘Frequency’s constantly changing… can’t lock it down…’
Martha chewed on a nail. The creatures were slowing, which had to mean they were getting ready to drop. Far below she could see a shadow over London; her own family would be gone, but she’d have descendants living in the city and she couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to them, or to anyone else, come to that.
She stared at the Doctor but his face was unreadable. He was sonicking like crazy but nothing was happening. Martha felt like screaming.
‘Isn’t there anything we can do?’ Morris pleaded.
The Doctor suddenly smiled. ‘You could just ask them to stop.’
‘We can communicate with those creatures?’
‘Not them! Blimey, for a clever man you aren’t half dense at times. I meant those Benefactors of yours.’
‘We told you,’ Grant barked. ‘They’re light years away.’
‘Are they really?’ Now the Doctor was playing the sonic flamboyantly across the work station. ‘Thing is,’ he said. ‘I’d already cracked the code so I only had to lock the signal. Then I could hack into their system. Like so.’
Martha hurried away from the window as the space outside distorted.
‘Cloaking device,’ the Doctor grinned. ‘And – oops, guess who broke it.’
The stars disappeared as a gigantic shape shimmered into existence alongside the station. It was a spaceship, but unlike any Martha had seen before – a conical mound of bone-like structures, held together by what looked like a dull greyish resin and dotted with pinpricks of light. There were no engines that she could see. Perhaps they were there but she just didn’t recognise them. The ship was big enough to dwarf the station and so utterly alien her mind struggled to comprehend it.
‘There you go,’ the Doctor said, rubbing his hands together gleefully.
Grant stared slack-jawed at the Benefactor ship.
Even Morris, eminent scientist as he was, was having trouble accepting the proof his own eyes presented. ‘B-b-but…’ he stammered.