14 - Vanderdeken's Children

DOCTOR WHO

Vanderdeken's Children

An Eighth Doctor Ebook

By Christopher Bulis

Contents

Chapter 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Derelict

Chapter 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .The Diplomat

Chapter 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Pendulum

Chapter 4 . . . . . . . . . Executive Pressure

Chapter 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Moderator

Chapter 6 . . . . . . . .A Meeting at the Rail

Chapter 7 . . . . . . . Out of the Shadows?

Chapter 8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Family

Chapter 9 . . . . . . . . . . . . The Experiment

Chapter 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Brothers

Chapter 11 . . . . . . . . . . . .A Patriot's Tale

Chapter 12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ghost

Chapter 13 . . . . . . . . .Dead Man's Hands

Chapter 14 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Lost

Chapter 15 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Conundrum

Chapter 16 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Soldier

Chapter 17 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Guilt

Chapter 18 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Suspicion

Chapter 19 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Sabotage

Chapter 20 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Exit

Chapter 21 . . . . . . .From a Well of Stars

Chapter 22 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Cavern

Chapter 23 . . . . . . . . . .The Shadow Host

Chapter 24 . . . . . . . Through the Tunnel

Chapter 25 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Aftermath

Chapter 26 . . . . . . . . Command Decision

Chapter 27 . . . . . . . . Garden of the Lost

Chapter 28 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .In the Ruins

Chapter 29 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Standoff

Chapter 30 . . . . . . . . . . Tears of a Ghost

Chapter 31 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Warning

Chapter 32 . . . . . . . . . . . . .Breaking Point

Chapter 33 . . . . . . . . . The Circles of Hell

Chapter 34 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Convergence

Chapter 35 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Nexus

Chapter 36 . . . . . . . . . . . . .To Begin Again

Epilogue/Prologue

Chapter 1

The Derelict

The steady tolling of the bell brought Samantha Jones back to the TARDIS's console room at a breathless

sprint.

She'd been exploring a dark, twisting, flagstoned corridor, which she was reasonably certain had not been

there the day before, when the first sonorous warning notes reverberated through the ship. Other vessels

might have employed buzzers or sirens to alert their crews; the TARDIS had bells that would have graced any

church tower. They communicated a sense of alarm far better than many more raucous alarms Sam had

heard.

Completing a two-hundred-metre dash, Sam burst into the unlikely expanse of the console chamber.

'Vortex discontinuity,' the Doctor said in answer to her unspoken question, without looking up from the central

console.

'Victorian ironwork gothic' had been one phrase that had come to Sam's mind shortly after she'd seen the

improbable chamber for the first time. 'Jules Verne meets Canterbury Cathedral' had been another - once she

had recovered from her initial shock.

The chamber's edges were dimly lit by assorted candelabra, torches and oil lamps, which Sam noted did not

seem to burn down or need refilling quite as often as they should. In their soft pools of light were gathered an

eclectic collection of easy chairs, side tables, statues, clocks and curios. Towering bookshelves and stacks

of dark wooden drawers almost obscured the walls. Carelessly scattered rugs softened the flagstone floor,

which gave way to parquet only in the chamber's very centre. Here was set the TARDIS's main control

console, arched over by six massive lattice girders which met above it to support the upper half of the device

the Doctor called the time rotor. This was a transparent cylinder in which two sets of glowing blue rods, like

matching clusters of stalactites and stalagmites, rhythmically intermeshed and drew apart.

The lower half of the mechanism was enclosed by a hexagonal control board, and it was around this that the

Doctor bustled. A Christmas-tree selection of multicoloured lights flickered and pulsed as he threw switches

and levers, tapped brass-rimmed dials and consulted the kind of tumbler displays Sam had only ever seen

elsewhere on an antique fruit machine.

It was absurd and improbable and yet, somehow, it worked.

As Sam crossed the floor to the console she felt a tremor run through the ship and grabbed one of the

girders.

'Should I start getting worried about now?' she asked mildly above the throb of the console and the still tolling

bell.

Even as the Doctor flashed her a quick reassuring grin the ringing ceased, leaving only an echo in her ears.

The frantic pulsing of the control lights slowly settled.

'We're not about to be sucked into oblivion, if that's what you mean,' he said. Then he added disconcertingly,

'At least, not in the foreseeable future.'

Unfortunately, as Sam knew only too well, when you travelled with the Doctor the future often arrived earlier

than you thought.

'So what's the panic about, then?'

'Any discontinuity in the space-time vortex is always a potential hazard,' the Doctor explained as he pulled

the main monitor down on its heavy spring-loaded lazy-tong mount over the console. An image grew on its

screen.

It was a flickering, coiling, writhing thing: as though a rainbow-hued snake was on fire and shedding its

burning skins, each of which formed other snakes that coiled back on themselves to merge with the first

snake again. Sam felt a knot forming between her eyes as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

After a few seconds she gave up.

'Of course, this is only a four-dimensional approximation of a fifth-dimensional cross section of a

multidimensional phenomenon,' the Doctor explained helpfully, continuing to stare at the apparition without

apparent discomfort.

'So it's a psychedelic artist's nightmare,' Sam agreed, squinting at the object again through splayed fingers

and frowning in disapproval.'But what does it do?'

'Well, it can disrupt theTARDIS's flight path as a storm at sea would a sailing ship. It could, for want of a

better word, sink us if we got too close. So, like any hazard to shipping, it must be charted. If it's a natural

phenomenon its magnitude and drift must be plotted...' He paused to tap a dial. 'If it's artificial, it must be

investigated.'

'And this one's artificial?' Sam said.

The Doctor smiled broadly. 'I rather think so.'

It was a beguiling and dangerous smile. It spoke of a passionate delight in discovery, of intense curiosity

coupled with boundless energy, of old knowledge and new horizons. Nobody else could wear it quite the way

the Doctor did.

'Unfortunately I can't plot its parameters properly,' he admitted. 'But it seems to have at least one extension

into normal space. We'11 have to establish its co-ordinates there to fix a station point.'

The console lights reflected in blue eyes set in a lean face, with something of the look Sam had once seen in

a character in a Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood painting. His wild, shoulder length, curling, light-brown hair

accentuated the impression, as did his frock coat and wing-collared shirt, pinned grey cravat, brightly

patterned waistcoat and narrow trousers. He fitted his surroundings as well as any surroundings could fit him.

A man out of time and yet of all times.

A steadily deepening mechanical pulsation reverberated through the console room.They were descending

from the complex of higher dimensions, which enfolded all space and time, to those mundane four in which

Sam had spent most of her life. The pulsation fell to a bass tone, there was a dull booming thud, then

silence.

'Where are we?' Sam asked.

'Temporally in the year 3123 by your calendar. Physically we're several hundred light years from Earth in deep

space. Somewhere close by should be the interface between the hyperspatial aspect of the vortex

discontinuity and real space.'

She stared at the monitor. For a moment it displayed only a scattering of stars shining hard and untwinkling

in the void. Then, as the external camera panned, an object came into view.

It was a cylindrical form with a curious projection rising from its mid-section, like a segment of some vast

machine. There was a scale grid along the bottom of the monitor screen and Sam made a quick calculation.

'It's big - over four thousand metres long.'

'At least that,' the Doctor agreed.

Sam frowned and adjusted the monitor controls so that the image of the strange vessel swelled and

overflowed the edges of the screen as she zoomed in.There was no sign of any interior illumination from

portholes, or of navigation lights. In the pale starglow its hull appeared overall to be a dull green and was

formed of numerous raised plates, scale-like slabs, nodules and branching pipes. Here and there she saw

tints of maroon, brown and occasionally silver. Flared rings or flanges encircled both ends of the central shaft

like monstrous bracelets. Eight tall spires or horns radiated perpendicularly from each of them into space.The

conning tower, or whatever it actually was, that rose from the middle of the shaft resembled a conical stack of

variously sized plates, pierced through by several vertical pipes rising from the main body of the craft. The not

altogether agreeable image came to her of a tree stump smothered in bracket fungi.

Either the TARDIS or the alien craft must have been drifting, for, as Sam watched, the end of the massive hull

slowly turned towards them and she saw it was hollow. The interior was a tunnel large enough to drive a

supertanker through. But apparently it did not run the length of the craft, for there were no stars at the other

end, only a fathomless blackness.

The whole aspect of the craft was unfamiliar and deeply alien.

"That's funny,' Sam said. "The near end of that ship, or whatever it is, looks like it's out of focus...' She peered

closer and caught her breath. 'Doctor, do you know, I can see stars through the fuzzy half of it?'

'No, but if you'll sing it I'll hum along.' His expression became momentarily apologetic under Sam's withering

glare.'It appears to be translucent because part of the craft is extending into hyperspace,' he explained more

soberly. "That's the source of the discontinuity we detected.'

'Have you ever seen anything like it before?'

'No. But then even I am not familiar with every vessel ever put into space.'

'Isn't there some sort of data file you can check? Jane's All the Galaxy's Spaceships , sort of thing?'

"There is, and I consulted it while you were gawping at our find. Nothing like it is listed - but then not every

ship gets registered.'

Sam felt the great hulk looming intimidatingly at them. She took a deep breath and tried to sound offhand:

"Then I guess we'll just have to check it out for ourselves.'

'Unfortunately, that might not be possible,' the Doctor said, frowning at the console displays. "The craft's

emanating an unstable and very powerful energy field in real space as well as the higher dimensions. It

means I can't materialise the TARDIS much closer to it than this. However, as you may have noticed, we're

moving towards it at a steadily increasing velocity.The craft must have considerable mass to influence us at

this distance.'

'Will we hit it?' Sam asked, her voice betraying nothing of the alarm she felt.

'Fortunately no. Due to the interference we materialised with some intrinsic motion.That, combined with the

attraction of the alien ship, has put us on a hyperbolic trajectory.We'll make our closest approach in half an

hour or so, then pull away again.'

'Well, have you got any spacesuits with flight packs on board? We could buzz over and take a closer look

while we pass it.'

'Possibly... somewhere,' the Doctor said absently, running his lean quick fingers over the controls like some

maestro pianist.'But I'd like to filter out some of this interference first. It might affect the flight pack circuitry at

close range, and it wouldn't do to get ourselves marooned over there, would it?'

As he worked, Sam idly tracked the monitor image about, examining the alien craft curiously. What was its

purpose? That huge central shaft couldn't possibly be a drive tube, could it? Perhaps the whole thing was

some sort of spacegoing dry dock.

Then a twinkle of light beyond the edge of the craft caught her eye. The image on the monitor shrank as she

zoomed the camera out to encompass a wider angle of space. Two other ships appeared, standing off on

opposite sides of the alien vessel. And even on this long view she could see internal lights sparkling on them.

'Doctor, we've got company.'

The Doctor looked up, his eyes narrowing.'So we have. Apparently somebody else detected the same energy

disturbance we did. How long have they been here? I wonder.'

'Perhaps that thing belongs to them.'

'I don't think so.Those ships are of quite different designs.'

Sam enlarged the picture and saw immediately what he meant.

The ship on the left of the alien craft had a slender, gleaming white hull decorated with green and red livery

stripes. Several rows of large observation windows glowed along its sides. At least three domes rose over its

upper decks and within them she could see what looked like greenery and the sparkle of water. Everything

about it suggested luxury, grace and, improbably in airless space, streamlined speed. Clearly a passenger

liner.

The ship opposite it and nearer to them was, by contrast, an unprepossessing, dull, grey, compact bullet.

Pods mounted on short outriggers ringed its tail section while unidentifiable teardrop blisters broke the

smooth curve of its nose. Lights showed from a mere handful of portholes. There was nothing graceful about

its lines, merely functional efficiency. It looked nastily like a warship, Sam thought uneasily.

Even as she watched, the warship - if that was what it was - rolled slightly towards the alien craft. One of the

hull blisters split apart to reveal a point of blue-white light within it.

'Force-beam projector,' the Doctor said.

A faint path of sparkling radiance sprang into being between it and the larger ship, like dust motes caught in a

beam of sunlight. It flickered about the strangely textured hull, but did not seem to quite touch it.After half a

minute the beam was cut off.

'No luck,' the Doctor observed.'The interference is preventing them locking on.They'll have to rig an actual tow

line if they want to move her. Ah, the \inei's trying it now.'

A beam, projected from a hatch in the liner's hull, also scattered across the alien ship without apparently

finding any purchase.After a few seconds it too was extinguished.

'I think they're as puzzled about that ship as we are,' the Doctor mused, his hands dancing across the

controls. 'I wonder if they're discussing the matter..." -

A crackle of static issued from a speaker grille, then a distorted voice. 'Ship-to-ship channel,' said the Doctor,

making some fine adjustments. The speaker's words became clearer.

'... a mistake on your part to think we have given up just yet, Commander,' said a woman's voice firmly. 'We

are not relinquishing our claim.'

'There's a visual signal as well,' said the Doctor. The external view on the monitor faded into an indistinct blur

for a moment and then resolved itself into the head and shoulders of a strong-featured woman of about fifty,

wearing a merchant navy captain's uniform and a determined expression.

'May I remind you,' she continued, 'that we discovered this derelict within the borders of our protectorate

zone, and under interstellar convention we have first rights to salvage.'

'Leaving aside the fact that we also have claims on this sector of space,' a man's voice responded

scathingly,'may I in turn remind you, Captain Lanchard, that discovering a vessel first does not, legally, grant

you exclusive rights to it.'

The Doctor flashed a bright grin at Sam. 'Let's see if I can conjure up a split screen.'

The screen image divided into two to show a man's head and shoulders. Sam smiled weakly.'State-of-the-art.

Impressive.'

The man on the screen was also in uniform, but one of a darker and more severe cut than the woman's. He

continued: 'Until you have succeeded in landing a boarding party or making a secure tow, we too may

attempt salvage as long as our activities do not hazard your ship.'

'Commander Vega,' Lanchard said stoutly, 'I am pleased to hear you are so familiar with Federation law, even

though you are not a signatory to its statutes. I trust you will abide by its rulings in this matter. I'm sure you

wouldn't want any word of any infringements of that law to reach the Federation council.'

'As I'm sure neither would you,' Vega replied smoothly, 'in the current circumstances.'

'Then you will allow us to continue with the salvage unhindered?'

Vega smiled coldly. 'You don't seem to have had much success so far, despite your so-called superior

technology. Perhaps we shall have better luck. Meanwhile we shall be observing your actions closely -just in

case you should suffer some mishap, for instance.'

'Is that a threat?' Lanchard snapped back.

'Not at all,'Vega replied unabashed.'But in uncertain situations such as this, dealing with alien technology,

accidents do happen.'

'Oh dear,' sighed the Doctor, and voiced his concern at the same time as Lanchard.

'That sounds like a threat to me.'

'But why should I feel the need to threaten you? After all, what threat does a mere liner pose to a fully armed

front line Nimosian warship?'

Lanchard smiled coldly. 'Commander Vega, as we are not actually at war, I trust that the relative strengths of

our vessels will remain academic. Please remember there are over two thousand civilians on the Cirrandaria ,

some of them Federation citizens.'

Vega smiled. 'I might point out that the Federation will not look kindly upon someone who risks the safety of

their citizens by attempting to salvage an alien vessel which, in all probability, will prove quite worthless -'

A voice interrupted him, speaking softly from off-screen. He turned back to face Lanchard with a scowl further

darkening his stern features. 'It seems I underestimated you, Captain. Were you keeping me talking as a

distraction?'

'What do you mean?'

'There is a small object approaching us. A one-man shuttle or a spying device, perhaps?'

'I don't know what you're talking about...' She glanced aside for a moment and spoke to somebody out of

shot, then turned back to the camera.'Apparently we have it on our screens as well now, but I've no idea what

it is.'

'Its trajectory will take it between ourselves and the derelict,'Vega said.'Have you modified a probe to

overcome the interference?'

'We're working on the interference problem - just as you are, I imagine,' Lanchard admitted.'But none of our

shuttles or probes have been deployed.'

Vega was receiving more whispered information. 'It appears to be unmanned, with an unfamiliar energy

signature.' He frowned. 'It will pass close by us.As it is not displaying a standard navigation beacon I could

consider that a hostile act.'

'Perhaps it came from the alien craft,' Lanchard suggested.

'Impossible. We would have observed anything leaving the craft. And we detect no other vessel in the vicinity

but your own. What are you trying to do, Captain?'

Lanchard sighed. 'Nothing! You're acting like a typical paranoid Nimosian.'

'And perhaps you are being a typically devious Emindian. Recall the probe.'

'How can I? It's not ours.'

'Then you will not object to its destruction - since it is clearly a hazard to navigation.'

'Go ahead. But if you think a show of force is going to make me abandon my position, you're sadly mistaken.'

'We shall see, Captain.' Vega turned aside: 'Main battery, target unidentified object...'

The Doctor frowned.'What are they talking about?There's no other ship around here.'

'Besides us,' Sam remarked idly.

Nodding solemnly, the Doctor cut the visual element of the intercepted conversation and an image of the

Nimosian warship filled

the screen. Sam saw that another of the teardrop blisters on the forward section had opened to reveal a turret

bearing a complex-looking coiled barrel. It lifted and swung about to point directly at them.

'Fire!' said Vega over the sound channel.

'Doctor!' Sam shouted.

The screen filled with searing light as an incandescent plasma pulse enveloped the TARDIS.

Chapter 2

The Diplomat

A curious sound echoed along the narrow, dimly lit aisles between the stacks of cargo containers.

It was a rasping sigh, rising and falling rhythmically and steadily deepening in pitch. A flashing light appeared,

hovering in midair like a will-o'-the-wisp.Then a ghostly object materialised under it and took on a solid form.

The sound became a harsh throaty whir, then ceased abruptly with a final dull reverberating thud. Externally

the new arrival resembled a battered British police public call box - a device made obsolete by advances in

communications technology over a thousand years before the current time.

The lantern on its roof ceased to flash. A narrow door in its side opened and the Doctor and Sam stepped

out. For a moment the console room was visible behind them, its spaciousness somehow contained within

an object no more than two metres wide and three high. Then the Doctor closed the door on the pocket

universe of folded time and space, leaving only its incongruous exterior on show.

'What do you know,' said Sam.'A narrow escape. Haven't had one of those for hours.'

The Doctor was looking about him with satisfaction. 'Right on target: the liner's cargo hold.The TARDIS

seems to have an affinity for such places. I feel quite at home. Many's the eventful hour I've spent in them

hiding, being arrested as a stowaway or evading the clutches of some shambling monstrosity with bad

breath. Actually, cargo holds are the ideal spot for a clandestine arrival. Nobody about to ask you awkward

questions.At least not usually...'

'You should write a book on them,' said Sam. 'Bestseller material, cargo holds.'The Doctor looked at her

sharply for traces of sarcasm, but her blue eyes were wide and innocent. 'So now we're free again with a

single bound,' she continued,'what do we do next?'

'First, find out what course of action these people intend to take regarding the alien ship. I don't want them

interfering with it until I've had a chance to examine it more closely myself.There's obviously no love lost

between them and the crew of the warship.They mustn't goad each other into acting rashly.' He looked about

him again. 'We might as well work from here; clearly drifting in free space close to the derelict will only incite

more misunderstandings.'

'And you think they'll take kindly to stowaways?'

'They won't have to,' the Doctor said mildly. 'We'll establish ourselves legitimately to prevent awkward

questions being asked. We might have to stay for a while and somebody would inevitably notice if we kept

popping down here. Yes. Let us be upwardly mobile and acquire some conventional lodgings more suited to

our status.'

'You mean find some cabins. And just what status do you have in mind?'

'Something appropriate to the circumstances which we may turn to our advantage should the need arise.' He

narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. 'Can we take advantage of our relative isolation? I wonder. What were Vega

and Lanchard saying about the Federation? Ah, yes. Just a minute.'

And he slipped back inside the TARDIS again, leaving Sam alone to contemplate the limited attractions of the

cargo hold. She kicked a shelf bracket moodily. 'Real bestseller material.'

Being the Doctor, he actually did rejoin her one minute later.

He was carrying a coil of cargo binding tape identical to that securing the cartons around them. With Sam's

help he wrapped several bands around the TARDIS, still allowing room for them to duck between them to use

the inward-opening door, and tied a replica cargo label in place. It bore only their names - their room numbers

and destination were blank.

'We'll fill in the details later,' he explained. 'Now you'd better take this.'

14 - Vanderdeken's Children

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