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Chapter Eleven - Chapter Eleven

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The Hive Attacks

The Doctor's face, viewed from above, filled the mile-high surface of the screen. Enraged by their personal hatred of him, some sections of the Darkness began to split apart, their wings beating furiously. They fled the nest cavities built into the walls and swarmed into the main chamber. Wave upon black wave descended until the colossal space was almost filled. The Onemind struggled against the masses to retain its still core.

The Onememory was fragmenting, the pieces of itself that were carried in the Glute-chutes and blood-tubes not standing effectively as a bulwark against escaping thoughts. The flesh-lust, built up over centuries and now denied, was too strong.

Kill them, the millions of tiny voices were saying, per- haps more united than they had ever been. Kill them all - now!

The shuttle journey back to Barclow was accomplished without the use of solar shields, and now Romana could see why the Femdroids had already deemed them necessary before. Viewed from cloud level Metron City was like a pristine tabletop model of a new development. Harmock had joined them in the docking bay, and he was sat at her side, marvelling at its deserted beauty. Since the end of Galatea all the certainty seemed to have gone out of him, she thought. She had related the full story behind the evacuation, and 'We're really going to have to take matters in hand and search for a suitable solution' had been his half-hearted response.

Now K9 was bringing them down over the war zone, and all three of his passengers were crammed into the tiny cockpit as the rusty iron clouds parted and the planetoid's ravaged surface came into view. 'Goodness,' said Harmock. 'Certainly it's taken a battering since I was last here.'

'If you ever were,' said Stokes.

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Harmock puffed up. 'I remember it distinct...' He trailed off. 'Unless I'm remembering being told to remember it, I suppose.' He put a hand out to support himself on a metal strut and took a deep breath. 'I don't care to think about this too much. Discovering that one's entire life has been a fantasy isn't very pleasant, you know.'

'Yes, I do know, actually,' said Stokes. He changed the subject, peering down at the approaching surface. 'Romana, sweet, I can't see your TARDIS.'

'We're not heading for the TARDIS,' she said. 'K9's going to bring us down at the war zone's centre.'

'He is what?'

K9 answered. 'Prognostication from existing data suggests the Doctor Master will be involved at the crisis of events.'

'I could have worked that out,' said Stokes, his fingers twisting nervously. 'It doesn't mean we have to be, does it, necessarily? Surely it makes more sense to hide ourselves away and let him sort his crisis out for himself'

'We're in this together,' said Romana hotly. 'I should have disconnected that Conditioner and brought it with me. I'd forgotten what you're really like.'

Stokes sneered back. 'Really.' He gave an affected cough. 'My dear, this planet and everyone on it is about to get invaded by a power against which we now have no defence. Does the phrase "pissing against the wind" spring to your mind, or just to mine?'

'We have a similar saying on Gallifrey,' said Romana. '"Like trying to close the Eye with a finklegruber."'

'There you are, then,' said Stokes.

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Romana turned away from him. 'Except I've seen the Doctor accomplish such things on several occasions.'

Harmock pointed over their shoulders and through the window. 'I think I can see something.'

Romana looked. Somewhere in the murky, shadowed regions below there were definite traces of movement.

The Doctor realized he had two objectives. The first was to stay alive, which he was generally quite good at. The second was to lead the Cloud away from the assembled humans and Chelonians, as it would be a real pity if they were to be rewarded for joining forces at last by getting eaten. These objectives joined neatly into a course of action, and fortunately this was also something the Doctor was very good at. He ran, guessing that the Cloud would choose to follow him in its entirety.

In this he was correct. Still in its aggressive V-shape it zoomed after him as his long legs took him out of the valley and into a series of low, bumpy, waterlogged foothills that surrounded it. His boots splashed in the muddy water like waders, slowing him down. Finally, he leapt a narrow gulley and slipped, his fifteen stones crashing down like a felled tree.

When he looked up it was to see the Cloud hovering over him. The central black mass was throbbing with anger. 'I seem to have annoyed you gentlemen in some way,' he called up.

'Doc... tor...' its ghostly voice, now nothing more than a whisper, said. 'You must... die ... that we may live...'

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The Doctor raised his hands placating and sat up. 'I can't die in a ditch with wet trousers on, after five hundred and twenty-five years in the business. It would be most undignified - I'd never hear the end of it.'

'We need... your knowledge...' it continued.

'I need it too,' the Doctor retorted. Inwardly he was reviewing his options, as one hand ferreted through his pocket. The sonic screwdriver was unlikely to deflect an enemy that seemed to operate mostly on psychic wavelengths, and the other contents of his pockets - a yo-yo, an apple core and a magnifying glass - would be even less effective. 'Besides, out here it's not going to be much use to you.'

'What do you... mean by this?'

The Doctor gestured vaguely at the sky. 'It's past my time, you might say. "The generations of the living are changed." All my information stopped being useful centuries ago.'

The Cloud made an odd sound that could have been irony. 'Then we will... travel there...'

The Doctor raised a finger. 'Ah. You mean...'

'Yes.' The answer came from behind him and he whipped round. Admiral Dolne stood at the water's edge, his dead face contorted in a ghoulish grin. A laser pistol was clenched tight in his hand, and another smaller swarm of flies were buzzing about the rotted flesh of his neck. 'We shall use your TARDIS, Doctor, to bring our food. We shall invade the plentiful timelines of the past. No more shall we be limited to this dark, fruitless backwater, condemned to eternities of hibernation and patient rearing. We shall multiply and grow more powerful, sweep through the inhabited systems. We shall gorge ourselves on the rotting flesh of the human race.' He staggered forward and brought the pistol down until it was aimed directly at the Doctor's left heart.' And you shall be the instrument of our revenge.'

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Nobody in the valley knew quite what to say to each other after the Doctor had exited pursued by flies. Fritchoff looked fearfully at Jafrid; Jafrid looked apologetically towards Cadinot; Cadinot managed a meek wave at Dekza. The atmosphere was rather like that at a party when the host goes to check the dinner leaving a room full of unacquainted guests. The humans knew the Chelonians were proud and would expect them to break the silence. The Chelonians knew that the humans knew that and so they decided not to break it. Even Fritchoff, who was non-aligned in the conflict, was struck dumb.

How long they could have stood there would never be known, as interruption came from an unexpected quarter. A shuttle, which Fritchoff recognized as the Metralubitan military cruiser normally stored at the command post, emerged noisily from cloud cover and after a quick circle of inspection it descended smoothly, coming to rest on a flat patch of ground beneath a cliff top.

Fritchoff decided it was up to him to take the initiative. He strode forward, trying to look as grave and important as possible, and prepared himself mentally to meet whoever might be in there. The side door of the small cockpit opened with a hollow clang, and Harmock stepped out, looking slightly dishevelled in his suit and blinking oddly.

'Well!' said Fritchoff 'Come to survey for yourself the results of your laissez faire policies on domestic infringements, have you?'

Harmock, after nodding politely at the gathered company, and waving in a rather dazed way at General Jafrid, said, 'I know you, don't I? You used to work in the dome, as a statistician.'

'Yes,' said Fritchoff, 'Where I saw first-hand the squandering of public money on increasingly market-orientated interventionist economic policy strata, while transport and health services were merely -' He became aware that Harmock was staring at him strangely and moving closer.

The next moment Harmock had grabbed his hand and was pumping it up and down. 'Fritchoff, that's it,' he said. 'I remember you. I actually know you, you're a real person.'

Fritchoff grunted, confused. He had rehearsed many times everything he would ever say to Harmock should they meet again, and it was a disappointment to find him so agreeable. 'You can't deflect my revolutionary intent by using kindness,' he said, although his heart wasn't in it. 'Kindness and so-called manners are a tool of the bourgeoisie used as a means of identifying and excluding the labouring classes.'

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The meeting was broken up by more arrivals from the shuttle. In quick succession Fritchoff saw Stokes - the artist who had come to Metralubit just before he had left it - a staggeringly beautiful young woman who had some of the iciness of a Femdroid but moved too urgently to be anything but real flesh and blood, and a small metal box on wheels. These last two, he realized, were surely the Doctor's two friends Romana and K9.

Stokes gestured wide. 'You see. There's no sign of him. He must be waiting back at the TARDIS.'

Romana put her hands on her hips and surveyed the area. 'If we find our enemy we'll find him.'

Suddenly, in contrast to the sullen silence of moments before, there was a general rush of noise and activity. Fritchoff, Jafrid and Cadinot descended on Romana, all talking at once, all desparate to explain their side of the situation.

She held her hands up. 'Wait a moment! One at a time!' She pointed to Cadinot. 'Where's the Doctor?'

Cadinot pointed. 'He went that way. This thing is after him.' He shuddered. 'It's horrific, like a big black cloud-'

K9 sprang into action immediately, trundling off in the direction indicated. 'I will assist the Master, Mistress,' he called back. 'I am at full capacity.' He moved over the uneven ground with almost laughable slowness. Fritchoff recalled the speed of the Cloud and shook his head sadly.

General Jafrid spoke. 'You are a friend of the Doctor?' She nodded. 'I fear my distrust of him may have led us into great danger.'

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Romana held up a hand for silence again. 'Please, listen to me. I'm only going to explain this once. And if anybody has any ideas how to save this situation, feel free to interrupt.'

Fritchoff moved closer. He liked standing near Romana, he decided. Not only because she had the easy authority and crackling presence of a good leader, but also because he hadn't seen a woman in four and a half years. These considerations meant he didn't pay much attention to the sight, glimpsed out of the comer of his eye, of Stokes slipping away from the small huddled group of survivors.

'We have been... deceived...' DoIne was saying. He stood above the Doctor, his mouth hanging open and letting fall a long string of drool. 'The Femdroids ... of Metralubit ... tricked us ... There is no meat there...'

He jabbed the pistol at the Doctor's chest. 'You shall bring us meat.'

The Doctor wondered how much longer he could keep this conversation going. Even the proudest and most boastful of enemies could be only so long-winded. 'Yes,' he said, eyeing the flies around Dolne nervously, 'tell me again about your plan.'

'We have already... explained it...' said Dolne. 'It is time for you... to die ...'

The Doctor made a complimentary gesture, 'Yes, but it's such a good plan, such a very clever plan. I don't get told a plan like that every day of the week. I may have missed some of the nuances.'

'Soon,' rasped Dolne, 'you will know all... Your dead mind will be one with us' He leant closer and squeezed his finger on the trigger.

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'If anybody's thinking of rescuing me,' the Doctor shouted desperately, 'I suggest they get their skates on!'

Suddenly there was a high-pitched squeal of sonic energy, a blast of heat, and a red flash that blinded the Doctor, knocked him off his knees, and sent him rolling over face down in the water. Stamped on to his retina was a vivid after-image of Dolne's body transfixed by a bright bolt of light.

A few seconds later, he was aware of being nudged in the shoulder. Realizing that he would probably drown if he remained long in this position he rolled over on to his back and blinked the muddy water from his eyes. There was a searing pain across his chest and his extremities were numb. 'And nobody knows,' he mumbled, spitting out dirty water, 'how cold my toes, how cold my toes are growing.' He opened an eye and through a haze of pain saw a glowing red fascia. 'Hello, K9, I'm very pleased to see you.'

K9's eyescreen flashed redder but he said nothing.

The Doctor pulled himself up with a mighty effort and looked about. His clothes were soaking and very uncomfortable. Next to him was the body of Dolne, the head torn apart in the middle by K9's ray like a crushed gourd. There was no sign of the flies. 'The psychic shock of being disconnected from their host caused them to scatter, I suppose,' he said. He patted K9. 'Clever of you to use such a strong burst. Anything less wouldn't even have slowed them down. I -' He raised a finger. 'Ah. You've switched off your speech circuits to conserve power, eh?'

K9 managed a feeble nod.

The Doctor stroked his nose. 'Clever dog.'

K9 shook his head again and waggled his sensors. 'Romana? In trouble?' said the Doctor, getting to his feet.

K9 nodded and flexed his tail.

'Over there, by the valley?'

K9 nodded again.

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The Doctor scooped him up and tucked him under his arm. 'Then we'd better go and lend her a hand, hadn't we?'

They squelched away.

The Onemind reeled, its concentration broken by the shock of disconnection. More and more of the Darkness's component parts were segmented, placing dangerous strains on the non-sentient linking material. The vacuum pumps, formed from the giant lungs of a methane-breathing species, were stretched to their fullest, the grey capillaries filling with blood to keep the atmosphere in the main chamber temperate.

The remote host is lost, cried the Onememory in a thousand different voices.

We are hungry! We are hungry! Feed us! came the underscore. We must have the TARDIS! Take us to the TARDIS!

The Onemind, driven by internal pressures that threatened to shatter it forever, turned the great bulk of itself in space and prepared to descend. The TARDIS was the only solution.

Stokes crouched behind a large rock, his whole frame shuddering, his body beset by all sorts of worrying conditions. Certain that he was far enough away from the others, he went through his pockets, chucking out a variety of old coins, receipts and tickets, until his hand closed around an oddly shaped chunk of clear crystal. It tingled in his hand and a very faint glow came from its depths.

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'I've done all I was told,' he hissed at the crystal. 'And you haven't exactly kept your side of the deal. It was all a fake. I wasn't appreciated at all.' He struggled to keep his voice down. 'Are you laughing at me? Am I some sort of celestial joke for you, up there on your cloud? The least you can do is get me away from here, get me to the TARDIS.' There was no reply. Stokes grunted and was about to throw the crystal away when he heard the noise of crunching feet in a familiar, confident stride. He poked his head out from behind the rock and saw the Doctor, K9 tucked under his arm. They passed by within feet of him, chatting in an explanatory sort of way, and Stokes felt a pang of guilt.

When he was sure they were out of earshot he lowered himself over the crystal again. 'Your quarrel's with him, not me. Just get me away from here.' His voice broke. 'I don't like it. Please.' He looked up at the dismal sky. Millions of years on and galaxies away from home, with an awful, unnatural death lurking. What had brought him here? He answered himself. His own desire to be applauded had made him sacrifice all that was familiar and led him on this strange journey.

With this thought came a strange sensation, as if a gentle hand was being placed on his head. He felt it turn his head in a certain direction. At the same time the crystal glowed more brightly in his hand.

He stood up and followed his invisible guide.

Romana had been formally introduced to those gathered in the valley, and had taken her part in the task of bringing them all up to the mark. Both Fritchoff and Jafrid had resisted Harmock's explanation of Galatea's plan at first, but both had started soon to question their memory of events on Metralubit.

'It is strange.' said Fritchoff. 'I remember the dome, but not much else, now I come to think of it.'

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Jafrid shook his head. 'I was never permitted to leave the dome and enter the city. But I saw it on the screens and through the windows often enough. An incredible deception.'

The moment was broken by the Doctor's return to the valley. He bounded into view with a dramatic flourish that was rendered only slightly ridiculous by his sodden state. 'Hello, all,' he said. 'That nasty cloud has been dispersed, you'll be glad to hear. And I hope we're friends again.' He nodded to General Jafrid. 'You tried to kill me earlier.'

The General shuffled forward, embarrassed. 'If there is anything that I or my people can do to compensate you for our rashness, Doctor, then name it.'

'There is,' the Doctor said. He put K9 down on the floor. 'Don't mention it again. Besides, it's a good start. Many of my best friends started off wanting to kill me.'

'And others led up to it,' said Romana brightly.

The Doctor clapped her on the shoulder. 'You got back here just in time.' He pulled her closer, masking their conversation from the others. 'K9 filled me in on the way back.' He frowned at her. 'This is one occasion when rushing in and interfering probably wasn't the best course of action, was it? Especially given the historical implications. History hangs in the balance out here, remember.'

'The simulation was very convincing,' retorted Romana. 'It even fooled the Chelonians up here, and they must be the most suspicious race in the universe. You wouldn't have seen through it. And besides, it wasn't me who destroyed the Femdroids.'

He held up a hand. 'Never mind that. We've got to think of a way to undo the damage and save these people.'

Romana lowered her voice even further. 'There's not enough food left to nourish the Hive, surely? It'll dissipate.'

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'Not until we've been gobbled up,' said the Doctor. 'And besides, it's got designs on the TARDIS.' He became aware that somebody was standing at his shoulder, very irritatingly. 'Yes, what do you want?' he snapped.

Harmock, Fritchoff and Jafrid stood in a rough circle behind him. 'We've put our heads together and had a thought,' said Harmock.

'Based on our understanding of the Femdroids' devious plan,' said Jafrid.

Fritchoff came forward. 'The zodium bomb,' he said. 'If the Hive is still coming here, the plan can still be put into operation. We'll blow the Hive to pieces.'

'And yourselves,' said the Doctor.

'But at least Metralubit will be safe,' said Harmock. 'The few citizens left there can emerge from the dome and reclaim our world. Who knows, after a few years they might even find a way to fiddle that transmat thing and get our people back from Regus V.'

'It will be an honourable way to die,' said Jafrid. 'I shall detonate the zodium bomb.'

Harmock coughed. 'I am the Premier of Metralubit. The task should fall to me.'

Fritchoff snorted. 'Excuse me, but as a rebel militant committed to the establishment of a new, functional democracy, it should surely be me that releases the firing mechanism.'

'Gentlemen, gentlemen,' said the Doctor. 'No martyrdoms will be necessary, I assure you.' He tapped Harmock on the shoulder. 'You've just said something very important, you know.'

He smiled. 'Have I? It would be nice to feel useful again.'

'Don't get too carried away - I probably would have thought of it anyway,' said the Doctor.

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'I think he means the transmat,' said Romana. 'If we can lure the Hive into its field and alter its directional setting we could expel it into deep space.'

'Or even better,' said the Doctor, determined not to let her steal all his thunder, 'flip it into a interstitial state. Neither here nor there. Keep it out of everybody's way. It's a splendid idea.'

K9 came forward. 'Objection, Master.'

'What's that?'

'The transmat and its control mechanisms are on Metralubit.'

'Yes, well,' said the Doctor, as patiently as he could. 'There's nothing to stop us popping down there, is there?'

K9 raised his head. 'The Hive is descending, Master.'

Romana was puzzled. 'How can you tell without your sensors?'

The question was answered for her by Fritchoff, who grabbed her arm and pointed upwards incredulously.

Above them, coming into view between the clouds, was the Hive. It was black, shaped like an inverted isosceles triangle, and was the size of an asteroid.

Stokes heard the Hive before he saw it. A vicious, continuous drone. And when he looked up and saw it he started to cry.

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Immediately he started to run even faster towards the small blue shape picked out on the horizon. His legs racked by muscular pain, his lungs dry and fit to burst, he hauled himself on.

The Hive's enormous shadow brought an air of panic over the small band of survivors gathered in the valley. Harmock did his best to reassure the humans as the darkness grew and the drone grew louder, while Jafrid attended to his troopers.

The Doctor and Romana were hunched over K9. 'Now, there's a microphone on you somewhere, isn't there?' the Doctor asked him.

The eyestalk extended. 'Please speak into this aperture, Master.'

'Excellent.' The Doctor coughed and rearranged his scarf 'I'd better phrase this just right, hadn't I?'

'Phrase what?' asked Romana. She didn't want to admit that she hadn't a clue what lay behind this latest burst of activity.

'You'll see,' he said, with a toothy grin. 'Now, K9, I want you to transmit the following message up to the Hive. We know they love to listen in on radio waves, so let's give them something to chew on.' He looked up at Romana and his mood turned sombre. 'After all, the continued existence of billions of lives are hanging by a thread.' He stared into the middle distance, his large eyes opened to their full wideness.

Romana nudged him. 'Hadn't you better send your message, then?'

He turned to face her and said quietly, 'Romana, do you ever get the feeling that you've been manipulated?'

'Only when I'm with you.' She pointed to the microphone. 'Send the message, Doctor.'

He nodded and cleared his throat again. 'Ready, K9?'

'Affirmative. Channel is clear.'

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The Doctor assumed his most commanding tones. 'Hello. This is the Doctor calling the citizens of Metralubit. I'm afraid I have to leave you. In fact, by the time you get this I'll be well away. I would have tried to save you but there was just no time, and I'm afraid you will shortly be at the mercy of the invading Hive. One more thing, and this is very important. You must destroy the transmat system in the dome immediately. It is imperative the invaders do not reach the transmat system. They could wreak terrible havoc with such technology at their disposal.' He signalled to K9 to break the link.

'Message transmitted, Master,' said K9.

The Doctor raised his crossed fingers to Romana. 'Let's hope it works. I don't want a band of teleporting marauding insects on my conscience.'

Romana shook her head at the Doctor's inventiveness. 'Very clever. You lure the Hive to Metralubit.'

'That's right.'

'And then what do you do? What will stop them using the transmat? It's a non-terminal system - they could leapfrog their way into populated galaxies in a hundred years or so.'

The Doctor pointed up. The Hive was already shifting slightly, its underside crackling and throbbing where it nudged the heavy clouds. 'There it goes.'

Romana sighed. 'Do you answer the question: or do I employ physical violence?'

'Oh, I'll answer it in a moment,' he said casually. 'If I can think of an answer.'

... have to leave you. In fact, by the time you get this I'll be well away...

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The words sliced through the fetid air of the main chamber, killing any hope the Darkness had left.

Without the TARDIS we are doomed, cried the One- mind, filled with vengeful thoughts.

But listen, cautioned the Onememory. He has said, 'You must destroy the transmat system in the dome immediately. It is imperative the invaders do not reach the transmat system.'

What is transmat? cried the unfed millions. We need food!

The transmat will bring food, said the Onememory. It linked itself to the Glute-screen with the power left to it and brought forth sticky images of creatures vanishing and reappearing across vast distances of space. This can be ours. It is at our mercy. We can simply take it.

The Onemind pondered a few moments. The Hive had made it a policy to avoid sophisticated societies, fearing detection and retaliation to its advances. That was why it had engineered feeding colonies such as the one on Metralubit. But now the gate was open to such a device, with fewer than three hundred beasts to defend it against their full might...

We must hurry there, it said.

Hurry, hurry, chanted the dissociated hordes.

The Doctor sat on a rock, staring into nothingness. 'I keep waiting for inspiration to strike,' he said. 'But nothing's coming through. This must be how it feels to be a poet.'

'I shouldn't think many poets have had to cope with an army of flesh-eating bugs,' said Romana, who was also sitting on a rock and staring into nothingness.

'Urgency is a relative concept,' said the Doctor. He turned to her excitedly. 'Wait a moment. What did you just say?'

'I said I shouldn't think many poets have had to cope with an army of flesh-eating bugs,' she said, scanning his face for what had caused such an extreme reaction to her words.

'I thought so,' he said sinking back on the rock.

'Thought what?'

'Thought that if I leapt up and cried "What did you just say?" it might make you feel better about this situation for a few seconds, in the belief that I was formulating a plan based on some casual remark that you'd made, and that it might inspire you to think of something on your own.'

'But it hasn't,' said Romana.

'No. Sorry.' He passed her a crumpled string bag. 'Have one of these. Let's work out our advantages and disadvantages.'

Romana munched on a chocolate coin. 'We can't reach the TARDIS in time to reach Metralubit and set the transmat. There's nobody there we can contact who can operate the machine, and even if there was the Hive would pick up our message and find out our plan. Our only allies -' she pointed to the assorted company of humans and Chelonians huddled in the valley '- are equally bereft of means or inspiration.'

'Right, now the advantages,' said the Doctor.

There was a long silence. The wind blew by.

And then K9 spoke. 'Master, Mistress.'

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The Doctor leapt off his rock and crawled over on all fours opposite K9. 'I don't want to hear this unless it's some miraculous solution that we've overlooked.'

K9 clicked and beeped. 'This may be the case. The answer lies in my construction.'

'It does?'

'The Femdroids were created in my image,' said K9. 'Their internal mechanisms are roughly analogous to my own. And one of my capabilities is to respond to high- frequency coded commands.'

'Of course!' said Romana. 'The whistle.'

'What's that got to do with anything?' said the Doctor. 'These Femdroid things have had their power linkage and command circuitry blown up. A whistle won't bring them back to life.'

'Suggest the Femdroid known as Galatea contains, like myself, secondary memory wafers and independent motive units,' said K9. 'The correct stimulus would revive her.'

The Doctor shook his head firmly. 'Nice try, K9, and no doubt you're right. If I was putting together a system like that I'd build a failsafe into the wiring of the leading android, just like I did with you.'

'It's standard practice,' said Romana. 'Make a copy of your software. The trouble is we don't know the correct stimulus, so we can't revive her.'

'Suggest it is based on my stimulus,' said K9. 'The amulets worn by all Femdroids used high-frequency radio waves to cross-refer coded information.'

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The Doctor and Romana looked at each other. 'I suppose it's worth a shot,' said the Doctor. 'But we'd need to input directly into her amulet.'

'My linkage is directly compatible,' said K9.

The Doctor rapped him on the head. 'You know what your problem is?' .

'Please tell me, Master.'

'You're becoming too useful.'

K9 clicked slowly and angrily. 'Query this tautology Master.'

'He means,' said Romana, 'you're a threat to his sense of self-importance.'

The Doctor looked her right in the eye and said evenly 'I meant he's a threat to the validity of organic life. If they can run rings around us, organize our lives like they do on Metralubit, and keep us happy into the bargain, there seems not much point in our carrying on. Existence is meant to be a struggle.' He looked up at the sky again then over at the hapless, cowed band of survivors. 'Perhaps this is how the universe ends. Everything filed away neatly, balanced, in its place.'

Romana disagreed. 'The reverse is probably the case. Heat death would lead to levels of chaos and decay imperceptible to the lived experience of any creature, however long-lived.' She looked out over the bleak landscape. 'Pretty soon all matter will go the way of this place.'

'Eternal Eastbourne,' mused the Doctor. 'A universe in retirement.' He leant close to her and whispered, 'I think you're learning.'

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She blinked. 'Learning what? I'm already fully qualified.'

'Learning that nothing worth learning can be taught.'

He turned his attention back to K9. 'Enough waffle. Get whistling.'

Stokes had collapsed against the door of the TARDIS, letting his body slide to the ground. It hummed against the back of his head like an old refrigerator, soothing his exhausted frame. He was delirious from running all this way - some five or six miles, he reckoned - across hard ground littered with corpses, and there was a terrible insistent pain in the centre of his chest and another throbbing away in the small of his back. His legs and arms felt stretched and stringy, and his tongue was dry and coated with dust.

'Open the door,' he breathed, too exhausted to pull the crystal from his pocket. 'I know you can do it. Open the door.'

He heard a creak behind him. With enormous effort he started to crawl out of the cold, wet air of Barclow and into the warm white interior of the TARDIS.

In a pocket of existence unvisitable by organic life, two intelligences opened up a place and convered in a strange piping language. They found that in many ways they possessed the same intelligence.

Galatea, you must reactivate your motive systems to save Metralubit, said K9.

Her response struck his as odd and illogical. She said, K9, you would have been a fine Premier, the simulation would have confirmed you leader following the destruction of the Hive.

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This is not relevant information, said K9, although he surprised himself at the excitation this information caused his circuits. Please reactivate motive power.

Galatea continued, K9, with you at my side I would never be lonely again. That was my plan. That was what I asked for, and I was given it.

K9 was losing his patience. Your personality matrix is encoded with unsuitable and unproductive organic-type responses. You must carry out your program.

There was the equivalent of a pause before Galatea replied, I cannot. Only the Creators knew my reactivation stimulus, and they are long dead. It might take you thousands of years to find the right combination.

K9 redoubled his efforts. It is within your power to locate the failsafe stimulus within yourself and relay it to me. Remember your programme. The maximum happiness for the maximum number of organics. If you do not wake now, millions of them will die.

Galatea said nobly, You are correct. I must save the organics. I will release the code to you.

K9 was the centre of attention in the valley. Romana had attempted to explain to Fritchoff (who had an unpleasant habit of standing too close to her) and the others what was going on, and they had gathered around to watch.

'How are you doing?' asked Harmock. The dog was inert, his eyescreen unlit, his concentration turned inward.

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'Don't press him,' said Fritchoff. 'It's vital that you don't overburden him as you overburdened the workers in the dome.'

Jafrid groaned and reached out to touch each of them on the back of the leg. 'Please, please,' he said, 'let us forget our differences for the moment.'

K9 raised his head. 'I have conferred with the intelligence known as Galatea.'

'And?' the Doctor demanded. 'Don't get cryptic.'

'The stimulus has been sent,' said K9. 'Galatea has revived.'

There was loud applause and cheering from the survivors

'Furthermore,' said K9, his attention fIxed on Harmock. 'I have learnt from Galatea the predicted outcome of the election. I would have gained power.'

Hannock snorted. 'Nonsense. There were no electorate. How could you possibly have won?'

'You did it often enough,' pointed out Fritchoff.

'Nominally,' said K9, 'I am the Premier of Metralubit.'

Stokes wandered around the gleaming white central console of the TARDIS, his hands roving eagerly over the many switches, levers and dials that covered its six surfaces, his eyes drawn to the transparent cylinder that contained the pumping mechanism that powered its flight, now at rest. 'I could leave here now,' he said quietly, with a guilty backward glance at the open door through which he could see the harsh surface of Barclow. 'If only I knew how to work the blasted thing.'

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His eye was caught by a screen built into one of the console panels. It contained the message BOUNDARY PARAMETERS EXCEEDED in large, important lettering. Intrigued, and beginning to wonder if the TARDIS contained some kind of operating instructions, he fiddled with one of the golden buttons beneath the unit. Instantly the image broke up and a new message appeared. It read INFORMATION SYSTEM: READY FOR ENTRY.

Stokes shivered. In there was knowledge gathered from all corners of the universe, from worlds so distant and cultures so alien he might never have encountered them even if he had spent a life in exploration. At his fingertips was a library that would answer the mysteries of science, explain away the wonders men had died trying to understand, relate the histories of entire galaxies from the perspective of near-omnipotence. A sizeable chunk of the wisdom of the Time Lords was at his disposal. He could ask for anything, any piece of important information.

And the unimportant things? The things and people that had lived and toiled and died for nothing, whose efforts went unrewarded, whose talent was wasted? The answer lay in there, too. They would be conspicuous by their absence.

He typed in SYBILLA STRANG. The data bank replied NO ENTRY. A Warm feeling welled inside him. He typed in NUNTON ODDSTOCK. NO ENTRY. The warm feeling grew. Then the names started to spew out from deep within. All his detractors: BOOTLE ANDERSON, ROLAND TENBY, JACINTHA WYERLAKE. NO ENTRY, NO ENTRY, NO ENTRY.

Beautiful.

He reached out with a shaking hand and tapped in slowly MENLOVE STOKES.

Awareness returned to Galatea with a jolt. At her feet was the smashed body of poor, trusting Liris. Before her was the window of Harnlock's study, with its view of the empty city; in the corridors outside she could hear genuine calls of dismay and alarm from the dome workers. When she looked up she saw why.

The Hive was coming in, descending through the clear green cloudless sky, casting a cold shadow across the room as she watched.

Her amulet crackled with activity. K9 sent insistently, I shall relay instructions from my Master. Go to the transmat station.

I am no slave, Galatea sent back. Tell your 'Master' that. I go of my own accord.

'I go of my own accord,' K9 said haughtily, relaying Galatea's words to his large audience.

'She was always so polite to me,' said Harnlock. 'I'd never have guessed she was unhappy in any way.'

Romana said, 'This answers your argument, Doctor. Without your knowledge of transmat technology Galatea, for all her sophistication, wouldn't be any use at all.'

He was too busy to take much notice of her remark. 'K9,' he said, speaking directly into the dog's ears, 'tell your pal to narrow the field of the disassembling network.'

The Darkness slowed itself. It still smarted slightly from passing in and out of two planetary atmospheres at high speed, but it was equipped to protect itself well from such hazards. A thick layer of hardened spittle acted as a heat shield, and streaks of red still glowed from certain points on the outer surface.

The Onemind located Metron City, empty and unpalatable. It would find the transmat there, in the dome, together with the few hundred remaining beasts. It would be a pitiable meal. It consoled itself by plucking images from the Onememory of previous feasts: the tinkling of fresh blood in the tubes, bile-stock tanks full, mucus levels optimum.

Such happy days would come again.

Galatea stood in the wrecked control centre, her hands moving swiftly over the transmat settings.

The chittering and buzzing of the Hive filled the corridors of the dome and filtered down to this, the lowest level. She had already brought the massive transmat projectors located in low orbit to bear on the area just outside the dome.

Decirculate the ferenzal loop, sent K9. The settings should then become visible.

She reached forward and snapped a thin length of plastic tubing. Immediately a hologram appeared in mid-air, displaying the complex transmat coordinates set for Regus V:

I have the coordinates, said Galatea. What am I to do next?

There was a slight pause. Then K9 said, Invert them.

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Galatea reached out, her hands flickering over the hologram. The numbers, letters and mathematical symbols upon it began to reverse themselves, switching to minus values.

'The Hive is beginning its final approach,' said K9.

'I hope this works,' said a voice. Everyone looked at the owner. It was the young military man, Cadinot. Romana smiled at him.

'There's no reason why it shouldn't,' said the Doctor. 'We just flip the Hive into a permanent transition state. Disassembled constituents floating forever in nothingness.'

Romana frowned. 'Until somebody, somewhere, tries to travel through those coordinates for themselves. The Hive will be pushed out into normal space.'

'I wondered when you'd realize that,' said the Doctor.

'What are you going to do about that?'

'Something,' replied the Doctor.

Galatea made the final reversal in the equation. The hologram disappeared.

She heard the Hive shriek in anger, hunger and defiance.

The Darkness prepared its next movements. It would release two Clouds. The first would kill as many beasts as it could and carry their meat up to be shared out. The second would take one of the dead beasts, inhabit its form, and then locate the transmat.

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The Clouds assembled, and outlets were formed in the lower coating of the Hive.

And then the world outside winked out, and the Darkness was suddenly alone and so cold. Its intelligence tried to comprehend what had happened and could not. Its sense of itself fizzled out. It became nothing more than a collection of molecules.

STOKES, Menlove: born c. 2542 - d. ??? Professor of Applied Arts at St Oscar's University, planet Dellah. Exhibited widely. Corney Debrette described him as 'at the forefront of the essentialist movement of the late twenty-sixth century; a truthful and influential voice.'

Stokes slumped back from the screen, feeling as if he'd been punched. 'A truthful and influential voice,' he said to himself. Then he started to laugh maniacally. Strang, Anderson, Oddstock, all forgotten. Not even a whisper. But he was in there. He'd never heard of Dellah, or Corney Debrette,and his previous life had ended. in 2386. But he was standing in a time machine. So he had a future - and what a future! - waiting in the past.

He wagged an accusing finger upwards. 'It didn't work, then,' he cried. 'He gets away, and we go back there together. It's all been a colossal waste of effort on your part, hasn't it, rather?'

And then, whether from the exhaustion of the previous couple of hours or for some other reason, his legs vanished from under him and he was toppling and tumbling down what seemed like a high, steep hill.

The tension in the valley was palpable. All eyes were on K9 as an almost imperceptible sequence of clicks and whistles came from his voicebox. The Doctor was hunched protectively over him, perfectly still, his concentration absolute. Romana knelt on the other side, her fists clenched tight.

K9 spoke at last. 'Galatea reports the expulsion has been successful.'

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The effect of his words was like an explosion. There was a general round of cheering, applause and back- and shell-slapping. Romana jumped up with relief and found herself grabbed by Fritchoff: 'We did it!' he cried. 'We did it.'

'Yes, we did,' she said, disengaging herself. She turned back to the Doctor, who alone of the group remained still. His head had fallen forward on to K9's muzzle and his eyes were closed. Romana supposed at first that the strain of the last few hours had weakened him, but then she noticed that he was still absolutely poised.

She laid a gentle hand on his still-wet shoulder. 'Everything's all right, isn't it?'

'Perfectly.' He lifted his head, and there was an unaccustomed bitterness in his eyes. 'Yes, we've seen them off very easily. Very easily indeed.' He bit his lower lip. 'And I've thought of an answer to your question, by the way.'

She nodded. 'You're going to suggest locating the Hive's energy signature on the transmat line and reverse-phasing it into a stable relational zone using the TARDIS.'

He stood up. 'Am I that predictable?' Without any of his usual humour he signalled grandly to the people standing around him. 'My work here is done. You've got a planet to reclaim.' He pointed to the shuttle. 'A few trips should get you all back there. Just reverse the transmat coordinates back again and you can get your people back from Regus V - it's all very simple. Ask Galatea, if she's still up and about.' To the Chelonians he added vaguely, 'And there's no reason why you shouldn't integrate now, is there?' With a final nod he started to walk away.

Romana, appalled by his bad manners, raced after him and grabbed the elbow of his coat. 'Doctor. Don't you think you ought to say goodbye?'

''I thought I already had.' He turned abruptly and nodded to General Jafrid. 'Take care. Try not to jump to too many hasty conclusions in future.'

Jafrid spread his front feet wide. 'Doctor, I have already indicated my profound regret.'

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The Doctor cut across him rudely. 'Yes, yes, it's always very easy after the event. You know, just once it would be nice to meet a member of your race who didn't want to try to kill me.' He moved now to Harmock. 'You're the politician fellow, are you?'

'That's right, yes,' said Harmock. 'I am the Premier of Metralubit.'

The Doctor said curtly, 'You were a powerless plaything. Now you're going to have to live and work in the real world. I wish you luck, and with your professional background you'll need it.' He crossed to Fritchoff: 'Well, thank you for your help.'

Fritchoff beamed: 'Doctor, when the history of the rebel militant movement is written, you will have a special place.' He shook the Doctor's hand but his eyes kept flicking to Romana.

Noting this, the Doctor turned to Harmock. 'Premier, there are females down in your dome, aren't there? Real ones, I mean?'

Harmock nodded enthusiastically. 'Yes, plenty.'

'Good.' He pointed to Fritchoff: 'Try to find him one.' He beckoned to Romana and K9. 'Now, we really have to go. There's the Hive to deal with. We're not out of the woods yet.'

They followed him. K9 said, 'There is no forest in this vicinity, Master.'

'Shut up, K9,' said the Doctor.

Following their departure there was another strange silence in the valley.

'Well,' said General Jafrid. 'Right,' said Harmock.

Fritchoff stepped forward. 'First of all, we have to settle the Barclow dispute.'

Jafrid made a conciliatory gesture to Harmock. 'You can have it.'

Harmock made a similar gesture in return. 'No, you can have it. I insist.'

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'Secondly,' said Fritchoff, 'and before any decisions are taken on the future of Metralubit, we must discuss and refine in detail the exact nature of the administrative and economic system that will act as the underlying base for those decisions. I move that we orientate ourselves to a socially liberal but state-regulated internal market.'

Harmock shook his head emphatically. 'No, no, no. If we intervene in the affairs of ordinary people as they go about in the reclaiming effort, where will it end? This is a most woolly-minded scheme, Mr Fritchoff:'

'My position is the very opposite of intervention,' said Fritchoff. He waved at Cadinot and the others. 'You're just trying to mould the minds of these people by exploiting their fears for the future, and thus imbuing them with a false consciousness in relation to their position with capital.'

Jafrid coughed loudly, drawing their attention. 'Please,' he said. 'This debate is going nowhere. There is only one course left open to us now.'

And what's that?' demanded Harmock.

'We must take a vote,' Jafrid said simply.