The Road to Freedom, Part Two

PART TWO



Eve closed the door as quietly as she could and hefted the heavy rucksack onto her back. She was torn between travelling light and scavenging along the way, or taking what supplies she had now and being lumbered with the extra weight. Suffice to say she was stuck out in the country and there weren’t many supplies going.

This was her only realistic option.

She checked that there was nothing coming as she opened the front gate to the cottages garden and then made her way right down the silent street. As she passed rows of little houses she wondered how many people were still sheltered in them, hiding from the patrols and just waiting for their lives to come to end. Trying to seek out some form of life.

They didn’t know what she knew. They didn’t know that there was hope out there.

For five years before the initial invasion she had worked with her boyfriend, Paul, at the London Chronicle. Life was good. The parties were even better. The world had been heading towards some kind of all-out peace and the stories she was covering were joyful and filled with hope.

And then the plague had come.

Paul had battled it for two months before he’d eventually passed away. It had been happening all over the world. People dropping down from the mysterious illness brought in with the meteorites. Whilst that was horror enough, nothing could have prepared them for that nightmare that followed.

The world was on the brink, but not everyone was dying out. Some say there was a medicine that the government had put into the water systems to try and cure as many as possible. Some say the virus only affected a certain amount of people, but one thing was certain – there was no cure against the creatures that came to the planet – the Daleks.

London was on its knees when Eve had decided to leave. The saucers had started to descend. People were rounded up and executed. The Daleks wiped out most of the government and others were converted into mindless Robomen. Anyone else who survived were captured by the Daleks and taken somewhere.

But Eve had known there was hope out there. Somewhere out there in this battered world was a man who could save them all.

“Stop,” came the monotone voice.

Eve froze. She hadn’t been concentrating. She silently cursed herself as she turned to face the direction of the voice. Standing there in a ragged white shirt and jeans was a tall man with an unkempt beard and blank, emotionless eyes. On his head was a horrible, cumbersome head attachment. It almost looked like it was clamping his skull together.

“You don’t need me,” said Eve, her voice barely a whisper.

“You are my prisoner,” said the Roboman, as it raised its arm, a nasty looking whip in his hand.

Eve didn’t really have time to react or make sense of what happened next. There was a flash to her right, which temporarily blinded her. There was a loud crack and then the smell of smoke. She fell to the ground as she heard the sound of struggling coming from where the Roboman had been stood.

And then nothing.

Eventually her vision – and her hearing – cleared. Standing above the unconscious Roboman was a tall man in black jeans, jacket and hat with a scarf covering his face.

The man stepped forward and slowly unraveled the scarf. Eve let out a gasp.

“Goss!”

The man was unshaven with piercing blue eyes. He was handsome but rugged and when he spoke he had a northern accent. “You alright, love?”

“Goss where’ve you been!” she said, as he extended his hand to help her to her feet.

“Looking for you,” said the man.

Eve brushed herself down and looked him up and down. She could hardly believe he was standing here in front of her. They’d been separated back in Stevenage when a Dalek platoon had attacked the train station.

“I kept moving,” said Eve. As if she had forgotten she hadn’t seen her friend for around a year she suddenly threw her arms around him and held tight.

“Easy, lass,” said Goss, rubbing her back, “it’s alright now.”

“But…but what happened? You were in that ticket booth…it exploded.”

“I dived out before that Dalek hit it.” He smiled wryly at her. “I tried looking for you but there was smoke all over. I fell off the platform and cracked me head on the rails.”

Eve shook her head. “Typical.”

“At least this time it wasn’t the alcohol doing it.” He laughed.

Eve wasn’t amused. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” he said, grabbing her bag and hefting it onto his back.

“For leaving you behind.”

He shook his head and put his arm around her as the two started moving down the road together. “I always told you to keep focused. You needed to leave me.”

“I thought you were dead,” she said, her eyes flashing up to his briefly.

“Very nearly was,” he said. “I’m lucky I fell really otherwise I’d be taken prisoner or probably be converted to one of their Roboblokes right now.”

“We’ve gotta get out of this village. Why are the Daleks here?”

“No Daleks, Eve,” said Goss, glancing around him, “just Robo’s.” He turned on the spot and scratched at his bearded cheek. “You’ve gotta cover your tracks better than this though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been following you since Leeds.”

“You didn’t do a very good job of catching up with me.”

“Until now.” Goss smiled. “As far as I can tell the Robomen are just doing another sweep. I’ve noticed they do that a lot. Travel to random small towns and villages and gather up any survivors trying to hide. Bastards.”

“Like me.”

“Like you.”

Eve sighed. “Well we can’t be far off from Thornsby now, can we?”

Goss pulled out an electric pad and switched it on. The screen showed a digital map with a blue dot flashing in the middle of the location of the village.

“Where’d you get that from?” said Eve.

“Surely the question you should be asking, darling, is where I got the power from.”

“Okay, well both questions are valid.”

“From this.” Goss turned the pad over. Connected to it was a thin metal strip with clips and wires attached to the inside of the device. “Dalek power slat. It can store power for up to three months. I nabbed a load from a Dalek supply shuttle that crashed near Wakefield.” He winked and tapped his rucksack.

“Nice,” said Eve. “And the pad?”

“Well…bit of looting, you know.”

“Goss!”

He grinned at her. “Needs must. As to answer your question…” He tapped on the pad and it zoomed out. “We’re only a few days away if we keep moving.”

“Then let’s get out of here. I don’t want to run into anymore Robomen.”

“Or…I have another proposition.”

“You’re not gonna ask me to marry you again, are you?”

Goss laughed. “You’re too young for me, sweetheart.”

“Then what?”

“How about we skip Thornsby completely.”

Eve frowned. They’d been heading towards Thornsby and this potential resistance leader since they’d left London. “Why? Where would we go? You heard about what happened there. There was a bloke that helped them destroy a saucer.”

“Because I’ve found something even more interesting.” He tapped the pad and the blue dot moved up the map towards somewhere just past the Water Hills. “Have you heard of a town called Freedom?”

Eve laughed. “Oh, not you too, Goss.”

“What?” he frowned.

“Freedom is a made up name for a town that apparently is free from the invasion. There are no Daleks there. Apparently.”

“It’s true,” said Goss. “Honestly. It’s all true.”

“And how do you know that?”

He put the pad back into his pocket and sat down on a small, rock wall. “Because I met two blokes from there. They were on their way down to London.”

“And why would they be leaving this mythical place if it was such a safe haven?” Eve raised her eyebrows.

“Because they were going to get their families out of London. They were going to take them back to Freedom so they could be safe.”

“I don’t know about this,” said Eve, shaking her head. “We’ve been on course for Thornsby for months. It’s a massive deviation.”

“But one that’s worth checking out?” said Goss, a twinkle in his eyes.

“But why would an entire town be free and totally untouched from the Daleks?”

“Why don’t we find out?” smiled Goss.

Eve sighed, hefted up her rucksack and then started making their way up the road. “You’ll be the death of me Gossy, my friend.”

As Eve and Goss made their way towards the outskirts of the village a lone Roboman stood watching them from the shadows.





Thor and Millie had gathered up as many supplies and belongings as they could and had exited the factory building. It was in a built up, industrial area of Thornsby so the large brick warehouses and factory buildings meant it was easy to sneak around. They crossed one of the roads and headed down an alleyway between a former biscuit making factory and a cotton mill.

It was starting to rain now and Millie wiped the raindrops off her glasses as the quartet flattened themselves against the wall, keeping in the shadows as a group of six Robomen came marching past the entrance to the alleyway.

A cat hissed at Millie and then scuttled away, making her jump.

“Stay calm, Mills,” said Thor, his voice a whisper.

“Are we sure we’re gonna be able to get these prisoners out?”

“We have to try,” said Thor. “Roy, where’s Sammie?”

“A few blocks away, but I don’t reckon he’s gonna make it.”

“You let me worry about Sammie,” said Thor. He looked at the blood-smeared man, the large rocket launcher hefted onto his back. “You concentrate on getting that thing ready.”

“Thor, is this really wise?” said Peter. “We should make our escape now.”

“You can’t really mean to leave our friends?” said Millie.

“Of course not, but what if they catch us as well?” Peter shook his head. “I’m no coward, but this is a nearly impossible situation.”

“Pete’s right,” said Roy, nodding, “it’s a suicide mission.”

Thor turned to face them, his face looked furious. “Look, I’m fed up of losing my friends. First there was Sam and Molly, then the Jones brothers and now the rest of the gang. I’m not gonna lose anymore people.”

A bright light suddenly illuminated their position in the alleyway. They were temporarily blinded. Thor shielded his eyes against the light and positioned himself in front of the other three. Standing at the end of the alleyway was a Roboman; in his hand an ultra-bright torch.

“Stop,” drawled the Roboman.

“We’re not moving, mate,” said Millie.

“Sod this,” said Roy, grabbing the rocket launcher from his back.

“Roy, no!” said Peter.

But it was too late. There was a blast of energy. Roy screamed out, his arms in the air as a secondary light caused his body to appear as negative for a moment or two. He then dropped to the floor limply.

Standing at the opposite end of the alleyway was a silver and blue Dalek, it’s gun-arm still twitching from the kill.

“YOU ARE MY PRISONERS,” grated the monotone Dalek voice. “YOU WILL MOVE AHEAD AND STANDBY FOR PROCESSING.”

Thor looked from Millie to Peter and then back to the Dalek. “And if we refuse.”

“We already know the answer to that,” said Peter.

“IF YOU REFUSE YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED.”

“Now might be a time to use those hidden powers of yours, Millie,” said Thor under his breath.

“I can’t,” said Millie, her brow furrowed. “It’s too much of a risk.”

“She’s right,” said Peter. “We’re just going to have to find another way out of this.”

“MOVE!” shouted the Dalek as the three of them made their way past Roy’s body and towards the Roboman.



Sam had carried Molly up to her bed and had made her comfortable. He sat beside her dabbing her forehead with a cold flannel whilst Chloe stood in the doorway, her arms folded and with a look of concern on her face.

Molly’s eyes slowly flickered open and she looked up at her father. “Dad.”

“Hey, baby,” he said, running his finger along her cheek. “How you feeling?”

“On fire,” said Molly, blinking slowly. “What’s happening?”

“You’ve got a fever,” said Sam. “You said you were feeling off at lunch time.”

“I just thought it was your bad cooking,” said Molly, managing half a smile.

“Cheeky,” he said. He pursed his lips together. He couldn’t lose her. This was how the other plague victims had started – with a fever followed by skin rashes and in most cases mania. “I’m going to find you help, sweetheart.”

“Where from?” said Molly, struggling to keep her eyes open.

“There are a few places I can go,” said Sam.

“You mean those secret underground bases with miracle cures?” said Molly sarcastically.

Sam shook his head. “I’m serious Molls.” He stroked her hair back again. “We heard about that place not too far from here.”

Chloe shifted uncomfortably by the doorway. “Sam, we don’t know if this Freedom Town thing is real or not. And how are we gonna get there?”

“There are cars in the village,” said Sam, trying not to vent his frustration at her.

“You’ll get caught,” said Molly.

“I have to try something, sweetheart,” said Sam. He closed his eyes and squeezed her hand tighter. “They said that Freedom is safe from the Daleks, and not only that, but there’s a cure.” He smiled at her, tears in his eyes. “But you’re gonna have to stay here. You’re gonna have to hold on.”

“I…I want to come with you,” said Molly, looking suddenly upset.

“Chloe will look after you.”

Molly was about to protest when Sam held his finger up to her lips. “She will look after you. You’re too ill to move.”

Molly looked from her father and then to the end of the room where Chloe was standing looking upset. She nodded slowly. “Okay, but you better come back soon.”

“I will. I promise,” said Sam. He knew the fever would ease off a little and she’d be feeling a little better soon, but it wouldn’t last. Molly was a fighter and she’d hold on as long as she could, but as far as he knew, without the mysterious cure, nobody had survived the plague.

“I love you, dad,” said Molly.

“I love you too, darling.”

He gave her one more kiss on the forehead, pulled the covers over her a little more and then made his way to the doorway.

Chloe put her hand on his shoulder. “You know how nearly impossible this is going to be, don’t you?”

“Look, I have to try. There might be something. I’ve got no other choice. If this place exists then we need to at least take a risk.”

Chloe looked pain. “This is going to sound horrible, I know, Sam, but have you thought about, you know, staying with her?”

“Then how am I going to get her help?”

“What if something happens whilst you’re gone,” said Chloe.

Sam looked down at her and held a finger up to her. “You don’t talk like that, Chloe. She’s going to be okay. She’s going to survive this. You stay with her and keep her with us.” He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘die’.

“Yes, yes, I will,” said Chloe. She wasn’t going to push the matter any further. “But you’re gonna have to hurry. It’s a few miles out and you’ll have to get back here too.”

Sam took one more look back at his daughter who had now fallen asleep. He nodded. “Take care of her, Chloe, please.”

“I promise I will,” said Chloe. “You just take care of yourself.” She leaned in for a kiss but Sam turned his head and she kissed him on the cheek instead.

Sam smiled at her sadly and then made his way towards his room. He had a long journey ahead of him and he had to get a move on.



Thor, Millie and Peter were barely out of the alleyway when there was a flash of bright light followed by yelling voices. Millie shielded her eyes against the light and then felt people bustling past her. She fell against the wall and then fell over. She scrabbled around trying to get back to her feet, but she felt something hit the back of her head.

As she lay on the ground, her vision started to blur and she could hear voices. A female voice and a male voice.

“Do you think they’ll fit in?” asked the male.

“With us?” asked the female. “Who knows. But the Mayor seems to think so.”

“Okay then,” said the male. “Let’s get them loaded onto the van.”

“Where…where are we…going?” mumbled Millie as she felt herself hauled to her feet. She was now being carried by the male.

“We’re taking you to some place safe. A place that needs your help. A town called Freedom.”



To be continued…

Next time...the Doctor and Mary returned in "3.16am", where the TARDIS team find themselves stuck in a moment that they can't get out of.

The cast of "The Road to Freedom" will return later this year in "A Town Called Freedom."

The Road to Freedom, Part One

PART ONE



“My name is Millie Fieldgate-Parker. I’m 18 years old and I like cats, squirrels and millipedes. At least I used to. That was a long time ago. Back before the Daleks invaded.

Actually it was probably further back than that. Back when I was at school in fact. When I owned a cat. I never owned a squirrel or millipede though. I just liked them.

Anyway I’m going off on a tangent here.

As I was saying, my name’s Millie Fieldgate-Parker. It’s a double-barrelled name. There’s a reason behind that. My ancestors were two people very much in love and when they married they kept both names. When their baby was born (Alison her name was), a new family was born out of the Parkers and Fieldgates.

It’s a bit of a mouthful but there you go. You don’t choose your name and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

There’s a bit of a story attached to myself, actually. No, really. It’s actually quite interesting. Turns out two of my ancestors had special powers – they could manipulate time and space. It sounds crazy, I know, but then I’m descended from a pretty crazy bunch of people.

As a result every one born from that original great great whatever had these powers passed down to them. To be honest I never really bothered to use my powers. They kind of just stayed dormant inside me. Sleeping.

So let’s skip ahead a bit to when this nightmare started. I was 16 and just starting a medical course at college. It was early one morning. I was at work placement at the local hospital and my parents had gone to buy tickets for some band or show or something at the auditorium. That’s when the meteorites came.

One hit the auditorium and killed my parents and everyone else instantly. One hit the front of our house and demolished the entire living room and my parents’ room. I used to curse the auditorium for trying to sell the tickets so early, but then I realised that if they hadn’t left early they still would have died in the house anyway.

This nice bloke with huge muscles rescued me from the hospital – Thor he called himself. He still calls himself Thor actually. He was an LSO (stands for Local Security Officer), and his team took me in whilst I tried my best to help the injured.

Then I found out about my parents.

I was sad. I was distraught. I’d lost my mum and dad. I tried to contact my twin sister to tell her, but she’d left home when we were 14 and hadn’t been in touch since. Carly, by the way, is a little cow. She hated that she had these powers. She resented the entire family for it and cleared off with her dickhead of a boyfriend who, let me tell you, was and still is way too old for her. We never saw her again.

And then the plague came. Just as we were beginning to pick ourselves up people started dying. It was a nightmare. Three quarters of the town caught it. I was lucky. I didn’t catch it, but the world was hit hard.

And then they came. Their flying saucers came out of the sky. They targeted the major cities, absolutely obliterating some places, like Manchester, and leaving other cities standing for them to conduct their experiments in. People were terrified of them. They fled the cities and towns and ran to the countryside. I had no choice. Thor, his team and myself holed ourselves up in a disused factory.

The invaders called themselves the Daleks. They were – and still are – strange, rounded metallic things covered in blue spots. They have weird sink plungers and egg whisks instead of arms, but the egg whisks can kill! I’m not sure what the plungers do, but Thor reckons he saw one suck a man’s face straight off. They scream and shout their orders out all the time and it makes me wonder if there is something trapped inside them wanting to get out.

When they first arrived they took some people as slaves. They executed others and the rest they converted to mindless Robomen.

And that’s how it’s been ever since. Thor and the rest of his team have tried to fight against them. About a year ago I met this bloke who knew a lot about me – his name was the Doctor. He helped me to channel my powers and we blew up one of their flying saucers. But he also told me that I needed to keep my powers hidden. If the Daleks were to find out what I was capable of they’d use me, and I’m definitely not becoming a battery for their invasion force!

And then the Doctor left and we were on our own again. There’s just myself, Peter, Thor, and a handful of LSO’s now, and to be honest I don’t know how much longer we can go on for. I know what the Doctor said, I know, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s time I started using my powers to defeat the Daleks. The Doctor reckons it’ll all be over in eight years, but some of us might not last that long.

Why should I hold back a way to defeat the Daleks just to preserve some predestined end to all of this? Why should I let all those people die between now and then just to preserve some mythical web of time?

It’s a good job I’m not in charge of things, isn’t it? I’d burn out every single one of the horrible little pepper pots from our world forever.

This is our world and we need to take it back.



Eve Walker opened what remained of the raggedy curtains and cleared the condensation from the one windowpane that wasn’t cracked to look outside. She wrinkled her nose – it was raining. Again. It always seemed to be raining these days. The street outside the house was mostly deserted, apart from a couple of Alsatian dogs trotting up the cobbled street looking for any scraps of leftover food.

She felt sad for a moment. She used to own a dog back in London.

She shook away thoughts of Groundhog and headed out of the small cottage living room to the kitchen. She had heated up some water on a portable stove and made herself a very watered down black coffee and one fried egg. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep her going for most of the day. What she lacked in food she made up for in determination.

She then headed upstairs with a pan of boiled water, which she tipped into the sink in the tiny bathroom and gave herself a wash. She turned to look at the mirror and smiled at her reflection before quickly wiping the smile off her face.

She would turn 36 this year. Her birthday was one of the things she still tried to cling on to, not because she wanted to celebrate, but because it reminded her that time was ticking. This invasion had started two years ago. She wanted it to be over before she turned 40. She used that as her motivation, as silly as it sounded.

She tied her long blonde hair back into a ponytail and gave her face a quick clean with a flannel. She wiped any remnants of sleep out of her grey-blue eyes and then breathed out. She stared for a long time at her pale features. She so much wanted to cry. To cry about everything she’d lost. To cry about everything the world had lost. But she couldn’t break down now. She’d had had her months after the meteorites had come to get scared, to panic and to worry, and then she had run through the emotions of fear and bewilderment when the monsters had come. She had done all of that. She couldn’t succumb to them again.

She remembered back to what her friend, Goss, her said to her before they’d been separated the other year. “You keep on fighting. You stay focused. You lose focus and you lose everything.”

She straightened herself up, changed into her combat trousers and grey jumper and then headed downstairs. When she reached the foot of the stairs she heard some gunfire and quickly ran to the window, making sure she kept low.

She couldn’t see anything, but could hear frantic running on the cobbles, followed by a number of heavier boots. They were obviously chasing someone again. She’d have to be careful out there. It would be nightfall soon (she always travelled during the night and slept during the day) and she had a long way to go.

And so she sat and waited with her stuff packed away. She had to get out of here. She was so close now that she could feel the anticipation. Just a little while longer.



“Back from your jaunt?” said Thor, as Millie sat herself down on a beaten up mattress in the corner of the factory hideout.

“Yep. All sorted,” she smiled.

“Planning on disappearing again?” asked the blonde-haired man. She could tell that he was concerned for her well-being.

“Nah. That’s all finished with now. I’ve done what I needed to do.” She looked around the factory floor. “Where is everyone?”

Thor finished eating his cold tin of bins and then threw it in the corner. “Well, Peter’s up on the roof trying to fix the antenna and Roy and the rest are out scavenging for supplies.”

There came the sound of footsteps from an outer corridor and Peter White emerged in the doorway. He was an older gentleman, in his early seventies. He was thin with short white-grey hair and wire-rimmed spectacles. His eyes looked tired, but other than that he looked quite fit for his age.

“Well, it’s finished,” he said, shaking his head.

“Finished?” said Thor, getting to his feet.

“The antenna. It’s completely shot to pieces. That pulse wave from the saucer must have knocked it out permanently.”

Thor half-sighed, half-growled. “I knew they’d get us eventually. Those saucers have been doing sweeps over nearby towns for the last few weeks.”

“What sweeps?” said Millie, feeling a little out of the loop.

Thor headed towards the corner of the room and started rummaging through a backpack. “We’ve heard rumblings of the saucers flying over towns and sending out pulses which wipe out all communication.”

“We don’t know how they’re doing it,” continued Peter, “but it’s making it near enough impossible to communicate with any of the other resistance groups.”

“And now we can’t communicate with our own people out there?” said Millie.

“Exactly,” said Thor. “The saucer came over a few hours ago.” He pulled out an old-fashioned walkie-talkie from his bag and shook his head, throwing it to the ground in anger. “Yep, fried.”

Millie hadn’t seen Thor this downbeat for around a year. A year ago they had made their first move against the invaders and had blown up a saucer. That had sparked on a few local groups to start fighting back and they had hoped word would have gotten up and down the country – maybe even across the world – but they had done absolutely nothing in the past year, save for a few skirmishes with the Robomen.

“Thor, maybe it’s time we moved on,” said Peter, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Moved on to where?” said Thor, shaking his head. “Everywhere we go there’s always going to be the same problems.”

“I know that, but we may find a place where they haven’t been.”

“They’ve been everywhere, Peter,” said Millie.

‘What about that town up north? The one they’re calling Freedom?’

‘Freedom?’ said Millie, with half a laugh. ‘What sort of a name is that?’

‘Apparently there are no Daleks there. None at all. And nobody but the people living there no why.’ Peter shrugged.

‘It’s all just a myth though,’ said Thor. ‘And we don’t have the resources to chase after myths.’ He sat himself down on the mattress and ran his fingers through his long, blonde hair.

Millie put an arm around him and rubbed his back. She hated seeing him like this. He was their rock in this mad world. He was her rock. She couldn’t see him fall apart like this. “Let’s wait for the others to come back, yeah, and then we can see what’s for the best.”

“The others should have been back thirty minutes ago,” said Thor, looking even more concerned. “They were only going a few streets away to raid that frozen food factory.”

“And of course we have no way of communicating with them,” said Millie, feeling Thor’s pain.

There came a crash and a bang from the outer corridor, followed by staggered, hurried steps. The double doors leading to the factory floor burst open and a young man, in his 20’s, with a shaved head and deep-set brown eyes stumbled through the doors. He had blood smeared on the right side of his face and it had stained his dark, combat suit.

“Roy! What happened? Where are the others?”

Peter was at his side with a crumpled plastic cup of water. Roy took a few sips before sitting down on the ground, cross-legged trying to catch his breath.

“Roy!?” said Thor, at his side instantly.

“Give him a minute, James,” said Peter, using Thor’s first name.

Millie smiled. If Thor felt like her big brother then Peter was like a father to the group. He only used Thor’s real name when he made use of that fatherly nature.

Roy caught his breath and then looked up at his leader. “We were ambushed somewhere round Suggitt’s Street. It was a group of Robomen. They were just waiting for us.”

“They must have been monitoring our communications,” said Peter, looking up at the ceiling as if expecting to see the antenna.

“We need to go out there and help,” said Thor, getting to his feet.

Roy grabbed his arm. “It’s a waste of time, Thor. They killed Katy and Ben and took the others prisoner. Me and Sammie got away but Sammie collapsed down Intax Lane. He’d been shot in the back.”

“But we can still rescue the others,” said Thor.

“Then we best be quick,” said Millie. “They’ll already be heading to the saucer pick up point.”

Thor had an idea. “Peter, do we still have that rocket launcher?”

“Yes, but…”

“Good,” said Thor, getting to his feet. “You and Roy get that thing set up on the roof. Millie and I will get to the prisoners, break them out and then when that saucer flies in you shoot it down.”

“We don’t know if the rocket launcher will have any effect, Thor,” said Millie.

“We don’t have much of an option.”

“And if it doesn’t work?” said Peter. “It’ll light up our location straight away. We’ll have to abandon the place regardless. They’ll swarm on us.”

“Then pack up your stuff and get ready to move out. I’m sick of sitting around doing nothing. They’ve gone too far this time. Let’s start resisting again!”



Sam Hasthorpe was lying on the grass. He could feel the sun beating down on his face. There was a gentle lick of breeze on his bare feet and he could smell flowers. He turned his head to look at his wife, a dazzling blonde with piercing blue eyes and a huge, beaming smile. He reached out for her and ran his hand through her soft, blonde hair.

“I love you, Hannah,” he said.

She reached out and touched his face. “I love you too, Samuel.”

There was a rush of wind, the screeching of tires followed by the sensation of heat. Sam sat up quickly, but instead of sitting in a field he was on a flat mattress in a darkened room. He was panting heavily and turned to his side. Underneath a woolen blanket was a woman in her late twenties with dark hair.

“Hannah,” he said under his breath, remembering back to the day his wife had died. It had been two years ago. He and their daughter, Molly, had been in the car heading for a weekend away in the country.

Then the meteorite storm had happened. One of them had hit the back of the car, killing Hannah instantly. An old man –Peter White – had rescued Sam and Molly but that seemed an age ago now.

The horrors that had happened after that day had never gone away.

“Sam?” said the woman, groaning and turning over to look at him. “You okay?”

Sam looked down at the woman, almost with revolt in his eyes, and nodded. “Yeah, Chloe, I’m fine. Just a dream.”

Before he knew it Chloe had drifted off to sleep again. When he was sure she was asleep he slipped out of bed and headed downstairs.

He wasn’t surprised to see his daughter, Molly, sat at the kitchen table with a candle illuminating an old book. She brushed her brown hair out of her eyes and smiled at her dad. It was too much for a fifteen-year-old girl to go through, but he was pleased she was still able to take some pleasure in reading.

“Still up?” said Sam, sitting down opposite her.

“Couldn’t sleep,” said Molly. “I heard you shout out.”

“Just a dream,” said Sam, smiling at her sadly.

“About mum again?”

“The same one,” nodded Sam. “And it’s always the same. The grass and the flowers and the sunshine.”

“And Mum.”

“And Mum.”

“Did you wake her?” asked Molly, glancing towards the wooden staircase.

“There’s no need to be like that, Mols,” said Sam, looking a little embarrassed.

“You know how I feel about her,” said Molly. “You remember what she did to us. To the rest of them.”

“I remember. I haven’t forgotten.”

“She sold all of our friends out to the Daleks,” said Molly, staring her father right in the eyes. “And now she’s living under the same roof as us.”

Sam couldn’t excuse his daughter’s anger. In the year since Chloe had betrayed them, Molly had gone from being an angry teenager sulking that her father was seeing another woman to a teenager who had morals and knew right from wrong. “It was a year ago, Molly. We all make mistakes.”

“Yes, but as far as I can see she isn’t being punished for her mistakes. You and she are back together.”

“We’re not together, sweetheart.”

“Oh, come off it, Dad,” said Molly. “I’m not a little girl anymore. You both share a room together. You’re with her.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven her, and you’ve gotta realize that we’re at war here.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “It’s not a war. Those things are just enslaving us. The human race is on its way out.”

“Don’t talk like that. And besides people do stupid, stupid things, including Chloe, and we have to move on for the greater good.”

“Thanks, Sam,” said Chloe from the top of the stairs, “but Molly’s right. I’ve made mistakes. I need to make up for them.”

“I didn’t hear you up there,” said Sam as she headed down the stairs.

“I can’t sleep. I can never get back to sleep after you’ve had a dream.”

“He was dreaming about my Mum,” said Molly, spitefully.

Chloe smiled at the girl. “I’m gonna make a cuppa. Anyone want one?”

“I want a smoke,” said Sam, getting up from the table, grabbing his last two remaining cigarettes and heading for the kitchen door.

Sam and Molly had left Thornsby straight after Chloe’s betrayal, but Sam had taken pity on her and picked her up before heading into the country to the Water Hills. Chloe’s grandma had owned a house up here and it was as far away from the Daleks as they were likely to get. There was only one house up here and nothing else for miles around. Occasionally Sam would head to Tinford to raid for supplies, but they didn’t eat much.

They were content to just survive. The small house would have looked quite picturesque back in the day, but now it was cold and uninviting. But it was somewhere to stay safe.

Sam leant against the doorframe and lit up his cigarette. He had smoked before he had met Hannah, but she had asked him to stop for the sake of their daughter. The invasion had done funny things to people. He was glad that all he had done was take up smoking again. He looked out at the dark fields and hills in front of him. Somewhere, miles away, the Daleks were busy making plans, taking prisoners and turning people into mindless Robomen. Although they were safe now, he wondered if that would always be the case.

Chloe appeared at his side and touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”

“You say that every single day,” said Sam.

“It’s because I mean it, Sam,” said Chloe. ‘And I will go on saying it every single day.’ She stood in front of him and he looked down at her. Even without standing on the doorstep he was a good foot taller than her. “I was an idiot. I know that.”

Sam nodded. “I know. I also know how screwed up this world is. It can do things to you.”

“I still shouldn’t have sold everyone else out to them.” She looked down at the doorstep. “They’re most likely stuck at that mine now.”

Sam took another drag on his cigarette and then threw it to the ground. “They’re not.”

She looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I heard they escaped. I don’t know how, but not long after we left that saucer went up in flames.”

“That was a year ago, Sam,” said Chloe, her face a mix of confusion and hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you had to let your guilt stay with you. If I had told you everyone was safe you wouldn’t have learnt anything. You’d have gotten a get out of jail free card, wouldn’t you?”

Chloe was angry. She wanted to slap Sam and call him all the names under the sun, but he was right. She deserved it. She felt relieved now, but this year of hell had been her punishment.

He could see she was visibly upset and he put an arm on her shoulder. She closed her eyes. He hadn’t even touched her for over a year now. Not since the night before she had been found out.

“I care about you, Chloe,” said Sam, “but we’re stuck in the middle of the frigging apocalypse. I don’t know where to turn or what to do. I can’t act normal because there is no normal.”

“I understand,” she said.

“And that’s why I can partly understand what you did.” He took his hand off her shoulder. “But when it boils down to it Molly is the most important thing in my life. The only important thing.”

She nodded. She knew she’d never take the place of his long-dead wife, and she didn’t want that. But she knew that people were going to have to try and find comfort from wherever they could now.

She was about to respond when there came a crash from back inside the kitchen. Sam spun round on his heels and then bounded through the hallway to the kitchen. He dropped to his feet. Molly was laid out on the floor. She’d toppled off the kitchen chair and was unconscious.

“She’s got a fever,” said Sam, feeling her sweating brow.

Chloe closed her eyes. She didn’t want to say it, but she’d seen the symptoms before. They all had. “She’s-”

“No,” said Sam, holding a finger up.

“Sam, she’s got the plague,” said Chloe.

To be concluded...

Preview: The Road to Freedom

In 2157 the Daleks attacked the Earth with meteorites. Shortly after the population started to die of a space plague brought by the same meteorites.

A year later, in 2158 the Daleks invaded Earth.

It is now 2159...

Millie Fieldgate-Parker is an 18 year old girl with special, hidden powers. Powers that could bring the Dalek occupation to an end if she wanted to use them. If she was allowed to use them...but the mysterious stranger known as the Doctor told her she couldn't...So now she hides with the resistance fighters, waiting and hoping that their fortunes may change.

Sam Hasthorpe, his partner Chloe Carpenter and Sam's teenage daughter, Molly, are in hiding in the Water Hills in the North of England. Molly doesn't trust Chloe after she sold their friends out to the Daleks, but they have more grimmer things to worry about...

Ellie Walker is a former journalist at the London Chronicle. When the Daleks invaded, her and her co-worker, Alan "Goss" Gossport decided to head North to the coastal town of Thornsby to look for help. Help from a man who allegedly knows how the invasion will end.

But all of them are about to have their lives diverted elsewhere.

And all roads lead to Freedom...

This is a special, two part prelude bridging the gap between the Darkpaths story "Before the Dawn" and a future Elysium story called "A Town Called Freedom" coming later this year.

Featuring Maisie Williams as Millie, Charlie Hunnam as Thor, Larry Lamb as Peter, Sam Clafin as Sam, Nicki Clyne as Chloe, Grace Hogg-Robinson as Molly, Clémence Poésy as Ellie and Jerome Flynn as Goss.

The Fallen Kingdom

The cemetery was shrouded in white, swirling mist. Each stone rose out of the ground like misshapen dominoes. They were surrounded at various points by bramble bushes and old, ancient trees, their leaves already taken their cue to leave for the winter.

It was dark and cold and the ground was damp. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, but the bird was scared away with the sound of something...unearthly.

Slowly, on the pathway that ran between two plots of graves, a blue box materialised with a wheezing, groaning and grating sound - the very fabric of space and time being ripped open to allow the box to appear.



This was the time and space machine known as the TARDIS. The wonderful, magical box that belonged to the traveller known only as the Doctor.

The door clicked open and a small, round face peered curiously from the doors. It was a young woman. She was wearing a white dress that had obviously been modified for travelling to other worlds, judging by the length of it and the trouser-like clothing underneath. She had long, dark hair and her eyes were trying to soak in as much information as possible.

Her look of wonderment then turned to a frown.

“Hmmm,” she said with disapproval.

“What is it, Mary? Anything good?” came a male voice from inside the box.

“Come and see for yourself,” said the young woman - Mary.

Mary stepped out of the box and made a “errghh” sound as she stepped onto the muddy grass beside the graves.

Another face appeared in the doorway of the TARDIS. He was much taller than her, had short, grey hair and a little stubble around his chin. He was wearing a grey tweed suit, green waistcoat, white shirt and a black tie. He looked just as out of place as the girl. But then again, were you ever really out of place in a cemetery?

His eyes darted around before they settled on Mary.

“Ah,” he said quietly.

“Doctor,” whined Mary.

“I’m sorry, Mary,” said the Doctor, stepping from the TARDIS and locking the door behind him.

“And why are you locking up?” said Mary, hands on her hips.

“Mary, I can’t leave the TARDIS open to everybody to clamber into.”

“What I mean is, why are you locking up if we’re not staying?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, stepping onto the grass and wandering to look at a few of the graves.

“Let me put it more simply for you, Doctor. You promised to take me to see some music concert by that Beatles band you keep going on about. You know, you said you were trying to get better control over the TARDIS again.”
“Ah,” said the Doctor, skipping back to her and putting his hands on her shoulders. He was grinning widely at her. “The Beatles, Mary. If your delicate 1940’s ears can manage such a modern sound, you’ll fall in love with them. You may even go for a Beatles haircut. 1964 - Beatlemania at its hype!”

“Less of the delicate,” she said with a smile.

“It’s been a while since I took a companion to see the Beatles. Ah, ‘Love Me Do’, ‘Here, There and Everywhere’, ‘Paperback Writer’, ‘You Know My Name, Look Up The Number’…”

“I beg your pardon?”
“Classics, Mary, all of them. Although I don’t think they ever did that last one live. Well, John performed it in the console room that time, but -”

“And anyway, what’s a Beatles haircut?” she said, interrupting him.

“A sort of…” He tried to motion a bowl-like shape above her head. He realised he was failing miserable given the confused look on Mary’s face. “Well, anyway, I used to have one a long time ago. And if you were around in 1940’s Whitechapel you may have spotted my friend, Gary, playing a few of there songs.”

Mary laughed. “I can’t ever imagine you looking any different than you do now.”

The Doctor smiled. “Believe it or not, I used to have long, white hair.”

“Hang on,” said Mary, frowning, “how did your friend sing songs in 1940’s Whitechapel if the songs were written in the 1960’s?”

The Doctor tapped the end of her nose and winked.

“But, Doctor,” said Mary, leaning against the blue box as if hinting for them to go back inside, “you seem to fail to grasp the reason why I’m a little cross with you right now.”

The Doctor’s face dropped. “Cross? Why’s that?”

“Because you are supposed to be taking me home. It’s quite clear that you’ve got a little better at control this machine now, yet you still don’t seem to be able to get me back home, let alone a Beatings concert.”

“Beatles,” corrected the Doctor. “And I can’t help it. The TARDIS obviously took us here for a reason.”

“So why don’t we just get back inside and get going?”

The Doctor looked shocked at Mary for even suggesting something so absurd. “Mary, there’s a mystery here! There’s obviously something that needs to be done. A person who needs to be saved.”

“Just for once, Doctor, I’d prefer not to face imminent danger. Have you forgotten that we’ve only recently escaped from that Rathtokian experiment area?”

“Where’s that stiff-upper lip spirit?” said the Doctor, as he slowly wandered off amongst the gravestones.

“Considering you got me up in the middle of the night to tell me you were taking me to see these Beatles, you surely can understand why I’m a little frustrated to be standing in a cold, old, misty cemetery right now.”

“It’s not old,” said the Doctor.

“What? Of course it is,” said Mary, glancing at the worn-down gravestones, some of them overgrown with weeds and bushes.

“It’s not. Take a closer look.”

Mary knelt down beside one the Doctor had been looking at. She peered carefully at the date. It was worn down, but she could just make it out. It said that the person had died on July 18th 2009. She frowned. Although it was in the future - relatively speaking - for her, the gravestone was old and worn.

“We must be in the far future,” said the Doctor, “for gravestones from the 21st century to have aged so much.”

“Doctor, as sad as it is, there are always going to be cemetery’s. So we’ve found one in the future. What does that matter?”

“Come on,” said the Doctor as he strode off towards the main path that ran through the cemetery.

“But why?” said Mary, exasperated.

“Pure curiosity,” said the Doctor. “I want to know the newest grave in this place. Then I can work out the rough date.”

The path seemed to climb a gently rising hill, passing between more and more rows of trees, which in turn surrounded bigger and grander gravestones.

Mary suddenly felt very scared. She knew it was an irrational fear, of course. It was dark and cold, but the sight of a stone angel looming over her seemed to unnerve her.

The Doctor must have noticed her unease because he quickly took her hand and squeezed it tight.

“It’s silly, isn’t it?” said Mary.

“What is?”

“To be scared of angels. I should feel protected by them.”

The Doctor gave her a sympathetic look. “Not all angels are friendly. Some are. Some aren’t. And I’ve always wanted to meet the Ash Angels from the Grey City. Lovely ladies apparently.”

Eventually the trees became less and less, until they were on top of the gentle hill. Newer gravestones dotted the land around, but Mary felt somehow more comfortable here. Well, as comfortable as you can be in a cemetery. It felt more open and she didn’t feel as claustrophobic.

The Doctor was already jogging along to the grave nearest to the entrance. Mary cursed the muddy ground and it was then that she noticed the cityscape.

“Doctor, look!”

The Doctor stopped his jog and turned to where Mary was pointing. In the not-too-faraway distance, the twinkling lights of a futuristic city glittered against the black backdrop of the night sky.

“That’s beautiful,” said Mary, looking on in awe.

“Definitely in the future,” said the Doctor. “In fact…” He pulled out a small telescope from within his jacket and looked into the distance. “That’s the Chen Tower,” he put his telescope away.”
“The what?”

“The Chen Tower. Named after Mavic Chen, the ex-Guardian of the Solar System. He colluded with the Daleks and almost brought the entire galaxy into turmoil.”

“What are the Daleks?” Mary was beginning to feel this was a bit of information overload. She was struggling to keep up.

“Nasty little war machines. Hopefully you’ll never meet them.” He pointed towards the huge, narrow monument in the distance. “The tower was built in his honour during his reign. Looks like they’re taking it down because of his…well, his dishonour.”

“So what year would we be in then?”

“Some time after the year 4000, I’d say,” said the Doctor, skipping over the most recent gravestones. And then something made him stop in his tracks. Something that, to Mary, made him look as though he’d had all of his enthusiasm sucked out of him. She’d not seen him quite like this before.

He stood staring at a simple, white-marble gravestone. It can’t have been much higher than two-foot.

“Doctor, are you okay?” she said, joining him by his side.

He remained still and silent.

She looked at the name on the grave. It read:



“Here lies Sara Kingdom. Born February 1st 3968. Died May 23rd 4000. Sister to Brett Vyon, daughter to Jean and Paul Kingdom.”



Mary read on:



“She was lost in space, mere dust to the wind, but she has come home now, so her next life can begin.”



“Did you know her?” asked Mary, glancing momentarily at the Doctor.

The Doctor nodded slowly. “Yes. I knew her.”

“Did she travel with you?”

The Doctor let out a big, long sigh. “For a little while. Only a little while. She died whilst travelling with me. The Daleks aged her to death. I watched her as she just crumbled…to dust. The Space Corps must have brought back her remains.”

Mary gulped and took the Doctor’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“She wasn’t the only person I lost back then. I never really got to know her. We were too busy running from the Daleks.” He shook his head. “Never enough time to just simply stop and rest. Stop and get to know people and have fun.”

She smiled sadly at him. “Is that why you’re keeping me around? To get to know me?”

“I don’t know, Mary.” He closed his eyes. “I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years. I always try and convince them that life with me can be fun, but it’s also dangerous.”

“Well I’m still here, you know? I may be wanting to get back home, but I’m still here.”

He wasn’t really listening to her. He was lost in his memories. “Sometimes - not very often - but sometimes, somebody dies. Somebody like Sara. It was Sara and Katarina’s death’s that changed me. It made me realise that you couldn’t keep being reckless without there being consequences. It aged me, Mary. It broke my hearts.”

Mary squeezed his hand tighter. “Sara would want you to have fun, though.”

“Actually, she’d have probably pointed a gun at me and told me to get out of the way so she can blow up a few Daleks.” He allowed himself a slight chuckle. “And now we know why the TARDIS brought us - brought me - here.”

“To remind you?”

“To remind me of life. To remind me that, amongst all the running and dashing around, to take some time out occasionally. You never know what you might lose.”

“Sometimes I think that blue box takes you were you need to go rather than where you want to go.”

“She definitely has a way of hitting me where I need it the most, Miss Auckland.”

The Doctor kissed his fingers and then gently pressed them against the cold gravestone. He took another few moments to stand there in silence, and then turned to Mary.

“Fun,” he smiled.

“Fun,” she said, smiling back at him.

“Miss Auckland, will you Please Please Me?”

“I beg your pardon!” said Mary, a little taken aback.

The Doctor looked a little flustered. “I mean…it’s been A Hard Days Night.”

She frowned a little more.

“Would you like to go and watch the Beatles with me?” he said with a grin.

“I suppose getting back home can wait a little while longer,” she said. “Yes, Doctor, I’d be happy to.”



And they walked back to the TARDIS, arm in arm, whilst somewhere in another land, beyond life, Sara Kingdom battled with Daleks, Mechanoids, living her life after death…and loving every minute of it.



And back in July 1949 a man, who looked just like the Doctor, was being helped into the house belonging to Mrs Patricia Auckland.

And he looked up at the windows on the top floor of the house and watched as white curtains gently billowed in the summer breeze.



The End

Next time....a brief interlude as we check in on the Dalek Invasion of Earth...

Hell, Part Four

PART FOUR: THE BROKEN WORLD

Back at the bank Garon, Zeela, Cobalt and Mary were just processing the realisation that the bodies in the bank weren’t real.

“I don’t understand,” said Zeela. “Why would they go to the trouble of putting fake bodies here?”

“You’re right, Zeela,” said Garon, sitting himself down on his old chair that had been covered in dust, “it makes no sense.”

“These people were here. They were killed.”

“Were they?” said Mary.

“What do you mean?” asked Zeela.

“Well what exactly do you remember?” asked Mary. “You told me the story, but are you sure that’s what happened?”

“Yes,” said Zeela, looking a little puzzled with Mary’s question. “The Rathtokians attacked and we escaped to the vault.”

“And, strangely, when you come back up after seven months there are fake bodies lying around and no clean-up operation.”

“Maybe the entire planet has been devastated,” said Garon, shrugging his shoulders.

“That still doesn’t explain the fake bodies,” said Mary.

Cobalt, who had been keeping quiet with her arms folded, walked over to them. “Mary is right. There is something that we are missing here.” She closed her eyes. “We were here though. That much is certain.”

“Were you?” came the Doctors voice from the doorway.

The group looked up as he strode in, Bren marching behind him holding a gun to the back of his head.

“Bren, what on Hallean - ” said Zeela.

“Be quiet, creature,” said Bren.

“Oh, no,” said Cobalt, shaking her head. “How could I have been so stupid…?”

“What happened to his beard and hair?” asked Mary, getting up.

“Stay put and do not move!” growled Bren.

“This, my dear friends, is not Bren. This gentleman’s real name is Oberen.”

Cobalt shook her head. “That’s a common Rathtok name.”

“And the baldhead…” trailed off Mary.

“He’s Rathtokian, isn’t he?” said Zeela. “He’s a Rathtokian spy.”

Oberen’s lips twisted into a smile. “Oh, you people have such little understanding on what is going on here.”

“The flash…” said the Doctor, trailing off and looking into the distance.

“I beg your pardon?” said Zeela. “The flash?”

“That’s right,” said Mary, twigging on to what the Doctor was saying. “You said there was a flash and then you all woke up in here.”

“Yeah,” said Garon. “The flash of the bomb blast. We were unconscious for only a few minutes after the initial attack.”

“I think that flash was something else entirely,” said the Doctor.

Suddenly a booming voice filled the room causing the survivors to look all around them and Oberen to frown.

“This is Watch Commander. Operator Oberen, time to bring them in.”

“But sir…”

“The experiment has failed. Bring them in.”

Oberen sighed and then looked at the Doctor. “You are all under arrest.”

“Listen to me,” said Garon, edging closer to the bald man, “I don’t know who you think you are-”

“I am Operator Oberen of the Rathtokian Special Watch.”

“Oh, goodness me,” said Cobalt. “We need to get out of here now.”

“What? Who are they?” asked Mary.

Oberen was about to raise his gun when Cobalt, moving like lightning, threw a punch towards the man. With one strike to his chin Oberen fell back, the back of his head striking a partially crumbled marble pillar, knocking him out cold.

“There’s no time to explain now,” said Cobalt. She grabbed Mary’s hand. “We all need to stay together. Doctor, are you any closer to finding your craft?”

“There were faint signals a few streets away.”

“Then we need to follow that signal now.”

“Wait a minute,” said Garon, “what the hell is going on here?”

“Isn’t obvious, Mr Tor?” said the Doctor, as they began making their way towards the exit of the bank. “None of this is real. This is all some experiment.”

“And if the Watch are involved, then we are very much in serious danger,” said Cobalt.



The Doctor had led them through various rubble-strewn streets and avenues, all the time checking the readings on his sonic screwdriver. Eventually they reached the edge of a road and beyond there was a darkened park. There was a high-pitched sound coming from the screwdriver.

“I don’t understand,” said the Doctor, “the TARDIS should be right in front of us.”

Cobalt frowned and placed her hands, palms-out, in front of her. Zeela nearly laughed – she looked like one of the street mimes she had seen in the city centre every weekend. It was as if her hands were pressing against an invisible barrier.

“This is as far as we can go,” said Cobalt.

“Listen,” said Garon, becoming angrier and angrier, “I need you to explain to us exactly what’s going on here.”

“It’s a bubble isn’t it?” said the Doctor. “We’re in a bubble.”

Cobalt sighed and sat on the edge of the road. “The Rathtokian Special Watch is a intelligence operative group on my home planet. They run scenarios and situations and test subjects to see how they respond and react. They operate entirely separately from the government.”

“That still doesn’t explain what’s happened to us,” said Zeela. “We were attacked in the bank. What about the fake bodies?”

“The flash you experienced. Everything happened after the flash, didn’t it?” asked the Doctor.

“That’s right,” said Zeela, realisation beginning to dawn on her.

“It’s how they operate,” said Cobalt, coldly. “The flash wasn’t an attack at all. The flash was you, Garon, Mrs Yaltos, Bren and myself being teleported from the bank to this place.”

“An exact copy of the bank and the area around it,” said the Doctor.

“A testing arena,” said Cobalt.

“Very clever deductions,” said Oberen as he emerged from the darkness, covering them with a gun.

“And you? What was your story in all this?” asked Garon, trying his best not to explode at the man who had assumed was just a stupid, homeless old fool.

“This is Watch Commander,” came the booming voice again. “Prepare to shut down simulation.”

There was a flash and the park beyond the barrier blurred and shimmered. There was another flash and everything went dark. They were now standing in a huge, dark dome adorned with deep blue lights. Where the park had stood was the Doctor’s TARDIS and beyond that a door.

The door slid open and three bald-headed Rathtokians wearing white tunics emerged followed by a bald-headed woman in a black tunic and white cape.

“I’m sorry,” said Oberen.

The woman walked up to Oberen and shook her head. “Well, it worked for a while at least.”

“Who are you?” asked Zeela.

“Watch Commander Vira.” She eyed up Zeela, Garon and then turned to the Doctor and Mary. “You two are not from Hallean or Rathok. How did your craft get into our arena?”

The Doctor glanced over to his TARDIS. “It’s a ship capable of dematerialising in one place and materialising in another.” He raised his eyebrows. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Everything on our planet is our business.”

“Except things that don’t come from your planet,” said the Doctor. “What on Earth have you done to these poor people?”

“I can see you’re a learned man,” said Vira. “Come with me.”

“We will all come with you,” said the Doctor.

Vira looked back at the group of tired, dishevelled people. “Very well. You were all part of the experiment after all.”



Vira led the group through the door and into a large control room. The Doctor commented that it looked a lot like NASA’s Mission Control, with rows of desks and banks of computer monitors, but it was lost on everyone. Even Mary. It was after her time.

Vira stood at the front of the control room and dismissed all the white-tunic operatives. When the room was clear she indicated for them to sit down.

“Please be aware that we bare you no ill-will.”

“No ill-will?!” gasped Zeela. “You’ve had us locked in a tunnel for seven months. Mrs Yaltos died because of your experiment.”

“And for that I apologise,” said Vira, “but it is all in the name of progress for our two planets.”

“Explain yourself,” said the Doctor, folding his arms.

“The tensions between our two peoples have been building for many generations. It was our intention to run an experiment to see what would happen if we did attack and how resilient you would be.”

Vira turned to a large monitor dominating the front wall. It showed Mrs Yaltos’s body lying in the middle of the large dome.

“Operator Oberen was installed to watch you all closely, impersonating a Hallean vagrant.”

“But how did you teleport us out of our own bank?” asked Zeela, shaking her head.

“Oberen was the catalyst. He was able to remotely activate the transport system. The flash, as you have already surmised, was you being teleported.”

“You created an exact holographic replication of the bank and surrounding areas,” said the Doctor. “Fascinating.”

“That explains why the escape tunnel didn’t lead to the countryside,” Cobalt said glumly.

“And the synthetic bodies,” said the Doctor.

“To be fair we didn’t expect you to be in the tunnels for so long,” said Vira. “We expected you to find a way out long before you’d realise the bodies weren’t real.”

“I guess we are all just stupid then,” said Garon. He then barred his teeth and got up from his chair. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Sit down, Mr Tor,” said Oberen.

“Actually,” said Garon, rounding on Oberen, “I’ll kill you first.”

“You’ll kill nobody,” said the Doctor. He turned to Vira. “But you will be brought to justice.”

“But you’re all free to go,” said Vira. “This was merely an experiment.”

“An experiment that has scarred these people for life,” said the Doctor. “And also resulted in the death of an innocent woman.”

“And what’s it all for?” asked Mary.

“To ascertain whether we should invade your planet or not.” Vira spoke so matter-of-factly that she almost seemed surprised that there would be any other reason for it.

“And what has the Watch decided to do?” asked Cobalt. “Please bare in mind that there are a number of our own people on the planet.”

“You were all useless,” said Vira. “I will recommend to the government that we invade.”

“You’re insane,” said Garon.

“Not insane,” said the Doctor. “Just cold and calculated.”

“Vira, 67% of our people watch us to find peace with the Halleans.”

“Then 67% are wrong, young woman.”

“Doctor, there has to be some way to help them,” said Mary. “To stop this.”

The Doctor was now the one to get up out of his seat. “Listen to me, Madame,” he said, stepping a little forward. “I believe this animosity between your two races is all because of a single moon. Is that correct?”

“That may be the catalyst, but - ”

“But is that a reason to go to war?”

“This would not be a war, merely an occupation. We need that moon to power our cities.”

“And currently,” said the Doctor, “the Halleans have control of it, yes?”

“That is correct.”

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck and then turned to Zeela, Cobalt and Garon. “You have to find some way to work together. You have to.”

“How can we after this?” said Garon. “They kidnapped us. Tested us.”

“But this isn’t the Rathtokian government talking,” said Mary. “This is a separate group. They don’t speak for all of you.”

“Exactly. And the important part of this is your 67%.”

“The wrong ones.”

The Doctor turned around furiously to the Watch Commander. “You do not speak for those people. You speak for none of them, do you hear me?”

“They need the moon and we need the moon, Doctor,” said Zeela. “How do we reconcile? It’s not a never-ending supply, you know.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes and then smiled to himself. “No. It’s not a never-ending supply. So what do you intend on doing once that supply has gone?”

Zeela looked to Garon and then they all looked to Vira.

“We shall cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“So,” said the Doctor, “you’re willing to invade, kill and occupy an entire species just for a short-term plan at getting your hands on these crystals?”

Vira didn’t respond.

“Madame, am I on the understanding that my friend and I can leave whenever we want?”

“Of course,” said Vira. “You are not a part of this conflict.”

“Thank you,” said the Doctor. He grabbed Mary’s hand. “Come on, Miss Auckland.”

“Wait, where are we going?”

“I’ll show you.”

Cobalt, Garon, Zeela, Oberen and Vira looked on in bafflement as the Doctor and Mary marched back towards the arena and the waiting TARDIS.



The TARDIS had materialised in a huge, glowing, crystal cavern. When Mary stepped outside she looked around her in awe. It was like being stood inside a giant crystal, the walls glittering and shining and casting rainbows all across the floors.

“I thought you couldn’t control the TARDIS,” said Mary.

“It seems that the little hops across space aren’t the issue. It’s when we actually enter the space/time vortex when the ‘uncontrollable’ aspect begins.”

“So this is the centre of the moon?”

“That’s correct,” said the Doctor. “And in a few generations the whole moon will be mined. The moon will be a dead, hollowed out husk and that is much more dangerous to the planet then them not having Sipher crystals.”

“And you’re sure this is the only way?”

“The one thing, other than hatred, that’s causing this conflict is these damned crystals. So if they no longer have any crystals…”

“There shouldn’t be a conflict. At least not one involving this.”

“Bingo, Miss Auckland.”

The Doctor ducked back into the TARDIS and pulled out a cylindrical device. It was made of glass and contained a dark red liquid. “It’s called VX-251-C. It’s essentially a poison. It was used by the Sontarans to cripple enemy spaceships. What it should do is poison the crystals and make them inert. They wont be able to mine them anymore.”

“Are you sure about this?” Mary peered down at the liquid. “I mean, what are they going to do to power their cities without the crystals?”

“Mary,” he said, crouching down and placing the cylinder on a pile of the crystals, “your planet has had to think fast when looking for new power alternatives. Hydro-power, solar-power, wind-power. I can help both races, but they will just have to find another way.”

“And I suppose, like you say, the moon will die in a few generations if they hollow it out.”

“Causing untold damage to both planets.” He sighed as he opened the cap on the top of the cylinder. “This is the only way.”

Slowly he poured the liquid out of the glass tube. It trickled over the glowing crystals and after a few moments steam began to rise from the liquid.

And slowly the crystals began to go dark…



Vira stood looking at the readouts on the huge view screen, a look of horror on her face. “What gave you the right to interfere with our planet?”

“What gave you the right to interfere with the Halleans?” said the Doctor.

She turned to face him. “You’ve sentenced us all to certain doom.”

“No,” said the Doctor. “I’ve given you all a chance at living your lives. I can give you some tips towards finding a new energy source. And you will all be fine.”

“But you have to stay and help us,” said Zeela.

“I can’t interfere in your planet’s development. I can only give you a little push.”

Garon shook his head. “But how do we move past all of this?”

He looked between Garon and Cobalt and smiled. “You two are the future.”

“I beg your pardon?” said Cobalt, her hands on her hips.

“You’re the future. You represent the ones who want to progress.”

“But they argue like an old married couple,” said Zeela.

“Exactly. And that’s what you need. Because despite the arguments and the disagreements, you both worked with each other at that bank for years and you survived the worst part of your lives for seven months in that tunnel. If you can survive that then your two races can survive anything.”

“And we can get you back to Hallean,” said Mary.

“I’m sorry but the Watch are not finished with you yet,” said Vira.

“Watch Commander, please look me up. I’ll in the Universal Databank under Doctor. Once you’ve looked that up then please have another think about trying to stop my friends from leaving.”

“Should I stop them, sir?” asked Oberen.

Vira didn’t know what to say. The Doctor smiled at her sadly as he indicated for the group to head back towards the arena and the TARDIS.

“Well?” said Cobalt, as they approached the TARDIS.

“We can give it a shot,” said Garon.

Cobalt extended a hand and Garon took it.

“The first handshake of many handshakes,” smiled the Doctor.

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” asked Mary, as the three co-workers entered the TARDIS.

“I think they’ll be okay,” said the Doctor. He took one last look at the arena and shook his head. “They have to be. For both races sake.”



The End

Next time....The TARDIS takes the Doctor and Mary to a cemetery in the far future...

Hell, Part Three

PART 3: CITY OF DESOLATION



There was a satisfying click and then came the sound of scraping as the handle underneath the circular hatch was turned. Finally, with one final turn, the hatch lifted up, the Doctor’s head emerging from the hole leading into the tunnels.

“Unbelievable,” said Garon, below him. “We’ve spent months down here with no way of escape and then he turns up with a screwdriver.”

“Sonic screwdriver,” said the Doctor, smiling and looking around him.

“Can you see anything?” asked Mary.

The vault was in darkness but the main door was wide open. Nothing had been taken and the only light was coming from the random flickering green emergency lights that dotted the low-hanging ceiling.

“It all looks quiet,” said the Doctor as he hauled himself out of the hole.

A few seconds later Mary emerged, squinting her eyes to make out anything in the darkness. Zeela, Bren, Cobalt and finally Garon followed.

“Are you sure this is safe?” asked Garon.

“I doubt it. Is any war zone safe?” asked the Doctor.

“He’s got a point,” said Bren, nodding to the Doctor.

“I’d rather be out of that hole than in it, Garon,” said Zeela, straightening herself up and feeling her limbs crack. It felt like ages since she’d stretched herself out.

“I suggest you all wait here,” said Cobalt, grabbing he blaster that was still holstered to her belt, “whilst I check that the coast is clear.”

“Not a chance,” said the Doctor.

“Please, I am expendable,” said Cobalt.

“More like guilty,” said Garon, rolling his neck and shoulders.

“Nobody is expendable, Mr Garon,” said the Doctor, rounding on him.

“It’s Mr Tor, actually,” he said. “Garon Tor.”

“Maybe we should all go together,” said Mary, keeping close to the Doctor.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” said the Doctor.



With Cobalt leading the way, the six of them made their way out of the vault and into the corridor beyond. The green emergency lights continued to flicker but still there was no sound. Eventually they reached the doorway that led out of the corridors and into the main banking area.

Zeela gasped when they emerged into the huge hall. It was night and the two moons bathed the room in a silvery-white light. The chequered tiles were cracked or broken and marble pillars lay shattered across the floor. Strew all around were bodies of customers and workers.

“Good gods,” said Garon, casting his eyes to the floor.

“They just shot them where they stood,” said Zeela.

“Brutes,” said Bren, his eyes fixed on the doorways that had been flung open allowing the nighttime air and cold to flow in.

The Doctor glanced across to Bren and narrowed his eyes at him.

“Is there anybody alive?” asked Mary, finding herself less terrified than she thought she would have been considering she had never seen a dead body before.

“Not after so long,” said Cobalt. “It’s been seven months.”

“Look at what your people have done to ours,” said Garon.

“Not my people,” said Cobalt, turning on him. “The government. The government do not represent the wishes of everyone.”

“Listen,” said the Doctor, glancing around, “I think we should split up. Take a look around. It all looks quiet now, but you said you still heard explosions outside?”

“That’s right,” said Zeela.

“Then I suggest we split into three parties. Bren and myself will go outside and see if my TARDIS is anywhere to be seen. Mary, can you stay with Zeela?”

Mary looked at Zeela and nodded.

“I suppose that means I’m lumbered with her,” said Garon, nodding towards an extremely frustrated-looking Cobalt.

“You two need to learn to get along. You two can get Mrs Yaltos’s body out of the tunnel.”

“Joy,” said Garon.

“And what about us?” asked Mary.

“Try and get the computer systems working. We need to try and see if there are any safe areas left on the planet.”

Zeela nodded. “Do you think we’re safe in here?” asked Zeela.

“I don’t know,” said the Doctor, narrowing his eyes again and looking all around him. “Something isn’t adding up here. I feel like I’m missing something.” He looked at Bren and then clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, Bren, let’s go TARDIS hunting.”





A little while later and Cobalt and Garon were in the tunnel again. They had uncovered Mrs. Yaltos’s partially decomposed body from underneath the small pile of burial rocks and were carrying her as best as they could between them. It was proving extremely difficult being on their hands and knees though and they found themselves dragging her for the most part.

“Be careful!” snapped Garon. “We don’t want bits of her dropping off.”

Cobalt frowned and then cleared her throat. “Why do you hate my people so much?”

Garon laughed and shook his head. “I don’t hate your people.”

“Then why do you hate me?”

“I don’t…I don’t hate you, Cobalt.”

“But you don’t like me.”

“Are you bothered?”

“I’d like to think that everyone could try and get on.”

“Tell that to your government.”

Cobalt stopped causing Garon to continue pulling the old ladies body by his self. “Hey.”

“You do realise, Mr Tor, that it’s not just my government, don’t you?” She looked genuinely annoyed with him.

Garon looked back at her. “But your lot are the ones that flew in here and attacked us.”

Cobalt continued to stare at him, her white eyes not even blinking. “You cannot tarnish us all with the same brush.”

“Did your people – your army – discriminate when they attacked my people? No. Did they make sure they only hit military targets and not hurt innocent civilians? No.”

“I’m sorry,” said Cobalt. “But the government is comprised of twelve leaders. Twelve people do not represent an entire planets viewpoint. In the latest polls 67% of my people wanted for the both of our races to unite and - ”

“Spare me the facts and figures, Cobalt,” said Garon.

“What I am trying to say is that we may not get along, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to. If 67% of us can dream to make things better then maybe you should try to get along with me.”

Garon didn’t know what to say. He knew she was speaking the truth. The two races had never really gotten on, but most of that was down to propaganda from the governments of each world. It was all down to one solitary moon. The moon contained Sipher crystals that could be mined and utilised to power hundreds of homes. The two planets had both tried to claim it for their own but neither of them had ever managed to take total control.

“Cobalt, life isn’t always fair and sometimes we don’t get along.”

“Then you and I have to be the ones to change that.”

Garon didn’t respond as they continued dragging Mrs Yaltos towards the exit.





Mary and Zeela were sat beside the still-open doors, soaking in the cool night air. For Zeela it felt like bliss. After being stuck in a stifling tunnel for all of those months surrounded by three other people and a decomposing body it felt wonderful to finally get out.

Mary was sat with her back against the doorframe, staring out. The street beyond was strewn with rubble from the surrounding buildings and more dead bodies lay stretched out as far as the eye could see.

Mary’s eyes remained transfixed on the site in front of her.

“Are you okay?” asked Zeela.

Mary shook her head. “It just…it just reminds me of the war.”

“The war?” Zeela frowned.

“Our war. The one from my planet.” She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold – it was from the memories. “I never witnessed anything myself, but I saw the film reels. I read the letters from my father and brother. What they must have seen…”

“They went into battle?” asked Zeela.

Mary finally turned to the redhead and smiled sadly. “They were stationed in a big city on my planet.” It still felt odd to Mary that she was talking about herself being from another planet. “The city was heavily bombed and so many people died.” She looked back across the street. “I’m sure they were brave, but I’d hardly call it a battle.”

“A little like this,” said Zeela, nodding at the dead bodies around the street. “These people didn’t go into battle. They were just doing every day, ordinary things when they were gunned down.”

“It’s all so pointless, isn’t it? All this death and destruction. And for what?”

“For what exactly,” said Zeela, narrowing her eyes. “I mean why kill all of these people and not even bother to do anything else.”

“How do you mean?” asked Mary.

“Well were are the Rathtokians? Why haven’t they followed up after their attack?”

Mary nodded. Something definitely wasn’t right.

Before the two women could continue their discussion they were distracted by Garon and Cobalt entering back into the main banking area carrying Mrs Yaltos’s body between them. Garon finally laid her arms down and Cobalt followed suit.

“She was a big lady,” said Garon.

“Be free, Mrs Yaltos,” said Cobalt, looking down at the old lady.

Zeela and Mary walked over, Mary turning away quickly when she saw the partially decomposed body of the old lady.

“Strangely I got used to that smell,” said Garon.

“That’s it,” said Zeela, as if something had just flashed across her mind. “The smell.”

“Beg your pardon?” said Garon.

“The smell, Garon, the smell.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty atrocious, but, you know, it happens to us all when we die.”
”Exactly,” said Zeela. “It happens to us all.”

Mary frowned and then realisation dawned on her. “Wait a minute…”

“Your are right,” said Cobalt, “it does happen to us all.”

Garon sighed, rolled his shirtsleeves up and then sat down on a lump of masonry. “What on Hallean are you three talking about.”

“Think, Garon, think,” said Zeela.

And then it dawned on Garon as well. “Oh my word!”





The Doctor and Bren had made good progress. They had turned off the main road and onto Mintokal Avenue, a once tree-lined avenue with beautiful, grand black and white houses. Now it was rubble-strewn, the leaves on the trees all burnt and the white paint of the houses blackened.

“This used to be a lovely street. Always wanted to live down here,” sniffed Bren.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself, Bren,” said the Doctor, as he consulted the readings on his sonic screwdriver. There was a definite reading out there somewhere, but it was very faint. Wherever his TARDIS was it was being shielded.

“Not much to tell really, matey,” he said. “Dad was a drunk, mother was a prostitute. Ran away from home – little town called Kreel. Lived on the streets since.”

“And you never tried to get yourself back on your feet?”

“Oh, always, sir,” said the Doctor, “but there was always some high-up fella or woman in me path. Always someone trying to put me down further than I had already gone.”

“That’s a shame,” said the Doctor. He shook the sonic, frowned and then pocketed it into his jacket pocket. “I am definitely missing something here, Bren.” He closed his eyes and balled up his fists pressing them against his temples. “It’s this new regeneration.” He opened his eyes and looked down at Bren who was looking a little bemused. “It’s like a new pair of shoes. They fit and you can walk in them but they’re not yet entirely comfortable. They aren’t quite in sync with your feet.”

“I beg your pardon, sir?” he said.

The Doctor’s eyes flicked down to the floor where the body of a pretty, blonde woman was lying, her blank eyes staring up to the heavens.

The Doctor broke into a grin and looked back to Bren, clicking his fingers. “And sometimes the very thing you’re missing just slots right into place.”

He dropped to the woman and touched her cheek. She was pale and cold – lifeless. And also still intact.

“We really should try and get out of here, sir,” said Bren, looking around nervously.

“Why?” said the Doctor. He grabbed the woman’s cheeks and pulled. “I knew it. I knew there was something not right here.”

“Well can you explain to me then, sir?” said Bren.

The bodies. Take a look at the bodies, Bren. They’re strewn around. All over the street and the bank. Everywhere.

“Yeah, it’s horrible. Someone should really help put them to rest.”

“It’s not just that, although the fact that no one has come to clear up the area is strange in itself.”

He got to his feet and turned on the spot. “You said you were in those tunnels for seven months, yes?”

“That is correct, yes.”

“Then why haven’t any of these bodies decomposed.”

Bren simply looked at the Doctor. He didn’t respond, he just frowned.

“None of these bodies have decomposed, and do you know why?”

Again, Bren didn’t respond.

The Doctor smiled. “It’s because none of them are real. These aren’t real people.” He knelt down and tugged at the woman’s cheek again. “It’s good stuff, but entirely synthetic.”

Bren sighed and then looked at the Doctor with sad eyes. “Oh, you’ve figured it out then.”

The Doctor cocked his head to the side and frowned. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve figured it out that not everything is as straightforward as you think.” Bren had suddenly lost his crude way of talking and had a more polished, well-rounded voice.

“Are you feeling quite alright, dear chap?” asked the Doctor.

Bren tilted his head back, grabbed at his beard and pulled. It fell away leaving a smooth chin-line. He then grabbed his hair and tugged. Now he was completely bald.

He went into his dirty old coat and pulled out what looked like some form of blaster.

“Bren…” said the Doctor, backing away slightly. Bren’s eyes narrowed. “You can call me Oberen,” he said, aiming the gun at the Doctor. “And my leaders are not going to be very pleased that you interfered with their little experiment.”

To be concluded...

Hell, Part Two

PART 2: BASE UNDER SIEGE



“I still don’t get it,” said Garon. “How could your ship just materialise in these caves and then disappear?”

The Doctor, who was sat with his knees drawn up to his chin shrugged. “She really didn’t want to be here.”

“Nobody wants to be here, fella,” said Bren.

“Spaceships don’t have minds of their own,” said Garon. “How do we know we can trust you?”

“I see a spaceship once,” said Bren, picking at a small, shiny pebble on the ground, “that flew itself. It didn’t have a crew or nothing. Just passengers.”

“You, my dear Bren, are not the most reliable source of information,” said Garon.

“Seen more of the world than you have, pretty boy.”

“Okay, okay,” said Zeela, looking between Garon and Bren, “now is not the time for another one of your sparring competitions.”

“Agreed,” said Cobalt. “We must look at the facts.”

“Which are?” said Garon.

“That these two people are here. They appeared in the tunnel, which we know is inescapable, and are now trapped down here with us.”

“Finally,” said Mary. “Do you always get these sort of questions, Doctor?”

“Always,” said the Doctor, solemnly. “I’m a traveller,” he said, turning to the others, “but I don’t quite know what planet we’re on.”

“How can you travel to a planet and not know where you’re going?” asked Garon.

“If I ever get my ship back then maybe you can find out for yourself.”

Mary looked to each of them. “You can trust him, believe me,” she said. “I met him only a little while ago, but he’s a nice man.”

“And what about you?” asked Zeela. “You seem to be…oddly dressed.”

Mary looked down at her strange get-up. She still didn’t feel comfortable in these sorts of clothes. “My name’s Mary and I’m from Earth.”

“Oh, god,” said Garon, rolling his eyes, “I thought I recognised the swagger.”

“Swagger?” said Mary, looking confused. “Sir, I don’t believe I have a…well, swagger.”

“What century is this?” asked the Doctor.

“What?!” spat Garon.

“Are you serious?” asked Zeela. “I can kind of accept that you didn’t know what planet you were on, but the century?”

Cobalt looked up from her collection of data pads that she had been reading. “It’s 2955 and you’re on the planet Hallean.”

“Hallean…” mused the Doctor.

“Doctor, I still get what he means by swagger,” said Mary.

“It’s the 30th century, Miss Auckland,” said the Doctor. “The Earth Empire is all over the galaxy right now, colonising worlds and not always doing it with the best intentions.”

“You mean…” she thought for a moment. “You mean we won the war only to cause problems out in space.”

Zeela and Garon looked at each other, bemused.

“There are peaks and troughs throughout the history of Earth. This isn’t a particularly nice period of it.”

Mary frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” she said to Garon.

Garon frowned back at her. “You are bizarre, girl.”

“The Earth Empire has stretched this far out,” said Zeela, “but thankfully our government hasn’t yet capitulated to any of their, shall we say, offers yet.”

“I don’t remember much about Hallean really,” said the Doctor. “A small little planet in the Fed’Sian system. It never got on with its neighbour planet, Rathtok.”

“Which is kind of why we’re down here,” said Zeela.

“Well I didn’t think you were all down here on your holidays,” said the Doctor. “I mean this is pretty grim.” His eyes rolled up to look at the blue-tinged stony ceiling.

“What happened to you all?” said Mary.

“We’ve been down here for seven months,” said Zeela.

“Seven months?!” exclaimed Mary. “Just the four of you?”

“There used to be five of us,” said Cobalt.

“Until old Mrs Yaltos passed away,” said Bren. He looked sad. “She was a lovely woman.”

“Yes,” said Garon. “Can you smell that stench?”

The Doctor and Mary sniffed and then both of them looked at each other with disgust.

“We buried her as far down the tunnel as possible,” said Zeela, sadly, “under a pile of rocks.”
”Have you tried to get out?”

“Are you an idiot?” asked Garon.

“Have you tried everything?” said the Doctor, sounding irritated with him.

“Well we haven’t spent seven months down here sat on our arses!”

“I don’t get it,” said Mary. “How’d you end up here anyway?”

Zeela looked up at the ceiling. “It’s a relatively short story.”





City Banking – the biggest banking company on Hallean. Zeela had been working there for a number of years. She had spent 18 months at its Volka branch before being promoted to Assistant Manager at the Borick branch. She’d enjoyed her time there. She enjoyed helping to run things and enjoyed interaction with the customers.

It was a sunny, mid-week morning when it happened. She had just returned from her dinner break and was finishing her coffee. The entrance to City Banking was through a huge, stone-arched doorway that led into a large hall, four stories high. The floor was polished black and white tiles and huge, ornate pillars rose from the floor to the ceiling with stone ivy carved into them. Behind the pillars were various different desks with bank clerks sat at each one. At the front of the hall was her desk and a doorway leading off to the vault and managers office.

She sighed, but it was a contented sigh. She enjoyed working here. She enjoyed the challenges that came with the job, and the pay wasn’t that bad either.

“For the last time, no!” she heard a familiar voice yell. She frowned and turned to the person it was coming from – Garon Tor.

He was sat at his desk whilst a scruffy looking man in a dirty mac with unkempt hair and grey beard stood hovering over him.

Zeela sighed and walked over to them. “Is there a problem, Garon?”

“No, Miss Vos,” said Garon, trying to hold back his frustration.

“Then why are you raising your voice at this gentleman?” she said, calmly. She knew exactly why he was yelling at the man. He had been in here every day this week.

“Mr Fasko has been told before that we simply cannot help him with a loan.”

Zeela looked at Bren Fasko who smiled his toothless grin at her, looking as sweet as any little old, scruffy man could.

“Mr Fasko is a customer, Mr Garon,” said Zeela.

“Yes, I know, but- ”

“But nothing, Mr Garon,” said Zeela, coolly. “Despite Mr Fasko’s financial situation, he should be treated as any other customer should be treated.”

“Thank you, Miss Vos,” said Garon, smiling again.

“However, Mr Fasko,” said Zeela, “you have been in here every day for the last two weeks. I’m afraid we are in no position to offer you a loan of…”

Garon flashed up the figure on his screen.

Zeela stifled a gasp. “Ten thousand yaraks.” She smiled at him again.

“It’s just to get me self set up,” said Bren. “You know how it is, Miss.”

“Unfortunately we don’t,” said Garon, looking smug again. “Although I do remember how difficult it was that one time my penthouse swimming pool lost it’s heating the other year.”

“Garon,” scolded Zeela, frowning at him. “That’s enough.”

“Zeela, I’d rather you not reprimand me in front of the general public.”

“Then don’t humiliate yourself,” said Zeela. She looked back at Bren, who had been watching back and forth between them. “Mr Fasko, can I suggest something?”
”Of course, darling.”

Zeela managed to stop her eyes rolling but continued to smile. “I understand that you’re living under one of the bridge arches on Lemon St, yes?”

“That’s right,” said Bren.

“There are homeless shelters out there that you can go to. They can help you.”

“You can help me,” said Bren.

Garon shook his head. “See, waste of time.”

“Is this gentleman bothering you, Sir? Madam?” asked a slightly emotionless voice from a few metres away.

Cobalt was a striking figure. Dressed in a grey one-piece suit with a high collar. She was bald with bright blue eyes and a very small camera attached to the side of her head. She was head of security at the bank and was part of a very small group of Rathtokians living on the planet. They were a cold and emotionless race, but Zeela had never had a problem with Cobalt.

“I can deal with this, Cobalt,” said Garon.

“Oooh, are you gonna escort me out, darling?” asked Bren. “You certainly have the muscles for it.”

Zeela noticed that Cobalt was now flexing her bare arms, but her face hadn’t changed.

“Mr Tor, what would you like me to do with the gentleman?”

“I don’t need you to do anything, Cobalt.”

“And what does that mean, Garon?” asked Zeela, folding her arms and looking down at her colleague.

“I simply mean-”

“He means he does not need a Rathtokian dealing with his problems,” said Cobalt, flatly.

“I didn’t mean that. I just-”

“Garon, I think you’ve said enough,” said Zeela.

Bren was looking between the three people with fascination in his eyes. There was almost a glee there. He hadn’t been this entertained for a long time and it was all of his doing.

“I shall repeat my question,” said Cobalt. “What would you like me to do with the gentleman?”

Before anyone else could speak there was a blinding white light and a piercing burst of white noise.

There was a scream from towards the front doors of the bank.

Soon the light began to fade and Zeela realised she was lying on the polished tiles of the floor. Her hearing was muffled, but she could hear the distant sounds of laser fire, explosions and screaming.

She managed to sit up. Her head felt woozy, but she steadied herself. Clambering to his feet was Bren, looking shaken at what had just happened but resolute. Garon was still sat in his chair, unconscious but stirring now and Cobalt was bent over, her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

Zeela’s eyes were drawn to outside the doors. She couldn’t see much because of the smoke, but she could see the occasional laser bolt illuminating the thick, grey smoke.

“It’s them. It’s the Rathtokians,” said Bren, fear in his voice.

“But…but the government said…it was on the news this morning…the deal…” Zeela shook her head in disbelief.

“It can’t be,” said Cobalt. Zeela was sure she heard her normally emotionless voice crack.

“Your bloody people, Cobalt. Your bloody people!” shouted Garon, getting up from his chair.

“We need to get outta her,” said Bren.

“We can’t go that way,” said Zeela, as a heavy-set man flew through the glass doors and landed inside the entrance with a deathly thud.

“This place must have a vault,” said Bren. “We can hide in there surely.”

“Yes,” said Zeela. “Yes we can hide until the security forces get us out.”

The woman in the red coat came running past them and Zeela grabbed her arm. “Mrs Yaltos, you can’t go out there.”

“I have to get away,” she sobbed.

“You have to come with us,” said Zeela.

The group made their way through the inner doors of the bank and down a long, wood-panelled corridor until they reached a huge, metal door with a large wheel handle.

Garon took out his bank access card and swiped it through a slot on a computer panel on the door and there was a clunk.

Cobalt grabbed the wheel and began to turn it. Soon the door was able to swing wide open. Cobalt ushered the others inside and turned one more time to see about half a dozen bald-headed Rathtokian’s enter the corridor, guns brandished.

Once they were all inside Cobalt pushed the door shut with a thud and turned the wheel to lock it into place.

“Oh, excellent,” said Bren, “the vault. You know they can still get in if they want to?”

“I know that,” said Cobalt.

The room was fairly spacious – about 50 feet in length and 30 in width – and was lined with small metal drawers each leading to some one’s worldly goods.

“Help me with this panel, Mr Tor,” said Cobalt, kneeling down in the centre of the metal-panelled floor and prising up one of the slabs. Underneath was another, far more ancient metal wheel.

“Where exactly is this going, Cobalt?” asked Zeela, frowning.

Cobalt started to twist the handle with Garon assisting as best he could. “It’s a place only the security officers know about.” The handle groaned some more. “In the event of a robbery – or in our case an attack – the most likely scenario is that people would flee to the vault. The vault may be secure but it’s not impenetrable. This tunnel underneath is not on any of the plans.”

“But surely any attackers would just see that we’d disappeared and find the tunnel anyway.”

“Except the tunnel leads under the city and out into the countryside.” Cobalt flashed what Zeela thought for a moment was a smile. “It’s not somewhere to hide. It’s an escape route.”

There was a satisfying click and the panel slowly eased itself open leading down to a dark and lonely looking pit.

“We’re going down there?” said Bren, peering into the darkness.

“It’s the only way,” said Cobalt.

There was another explosion followed by muffled screams somewhere nearby.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” said Garon. “After you, Mrs Yaltos.”

“Oh dear,” said the old woman as they began to clamber inside.



“So…” said Mary, replaying what the four of them had told her, “why can’t you just go outside? And I thought you said this tunnel led out into the countryside.”

“So we thought,” said Zeela. “Except it’s just solid rock 200 metres down that tunnel from where we are.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” said the Doctor. “Why build a tunnel that doesn’t go anywhere?”

“And that’s not the only thing,” said Zeela. “Nobody has come for us since. There were Rathtokian soliders coming after us when we got into the vault, but they never attempted to come down here.”

“There are still explosions up above though,” said Garon, looking towards the rocky ceiling.

“Maybe they’re just leaving us to die,” said Bren.

“That is not like my people,” said Cobalt. “They do not leave a job unfinished.”

“And you’ve tried to get the panel back into the vault open?” asked the Doctor.

“No,” said Garon, sarcastically, “we’ve just decided to leave it and starve to death down here.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at the frustrated man. “I had to ask. Can you show me the panel?”

“We can,” said Zeela, “but the power is out up above. There’s no way of getting it open.”

“Oh,” said the Doctor, his eyes twinkling and a smile playing across his lips, “I may have a way.”



On a small monitor somewhere in a darkened room a shadowy figure watched on in interest. The screen showed a black and white image of Cobalt, Bren, Garon, Zeela and the two newcomers crawling through the tunnel in search of the hatch.



The figure narrowed its white eyes and it lifted a microphone to its mouth. “This is Watch-4. Subjects are attempting to leave the tunnel. Repeat: subjects are attempting to leave the tunnels. All units stand by for the next stage.”





To be continued...