Doctor Who: Delta and the Bannermen (10 page)

They barely heard the scooter stop some distance away, but were instantly alert the moment Ray emerged from the cover of the trees. ‘I thought they’d never go,’ she whispered. ‘You look like something out of a medieval torture chamber.’

‘Thanks a lot, kid. You sure know how to make a guy feel better,’ responded Weismuller.

‘Sorry! Can you move?’

‘Just so long as I don’t have to take my neck along...’

said Hawk trying to speak without moving his jaw. ‘We’d really appreciate it if you could get us out of this,’ he pleaded.

Ray examined the locks on the shackles and tried pulling them apart, but it was futile. ‘It’s no use, ma’am.

They had a special spanner, kinda like a dinky Allen key,’

said Weismuller.

Ray trotted back to her scooter and returned a moment later with her jangling toolbag. ‘Are these "dinky" enough?’

she asked, producing a full set of Allen keys.

‘It’s looking good,’ said Hawk, appearing cheerful for the first time that day.

The sweat dripped from Weismuller’s forehead as Ray tried one key after another. At that moment, Arrex and Callon were nowhere to be seen but they could return at any time. Weismuller felt sure that they would consider this to be an act of provocation and deal with them accordingly. Unfortunately, he had a good imagination and it made him squirm in anticipation of unpleasant things to come. Finally, one key worked and the shackles sprang open. Hawk and Weismuller got to their feet, rubbing their necks.

‘That’s torn it,’ said Hawk. ‘I think my back’s gone again. I’m still paying physio bills from three years ago,’ he moaned.

‘Quit griping, Hawk. Be grateful you’re not still on your knees with that iron necklace round your gullet,’ snapped Weismuller.

‘Get in your car and follow me!’ hissed Ray urgently, already heading for where her scooter was hidden.

Hawk and Weismuller exchanged a puzzled glance but there was no time to argue. They would rather take their chances with Ray than wait around for the two Bannermen thugs to return. They jumped into the Morris and churned the started. ‘Say,’ said Weismuller, ‘who was that?’

‘Beats me,’ muttered Hawk as they puttered after her.

As the Vincent thundered away from the camp, Mel and Burton whooped with joy. ‘We did it, Doctor. Free!’ cried Mel. The Doctor didn’t look quite so jubilant.

‘There’s more to this than meets the eye, Mel,’ he muttered, changing gear as he approached a tight bend in the road.

Mel was too relieved to allow the Doctor to take the wind out of her sails. She turned and smiled broadly at Burton, clinging precariously to the pillion saddle. ‘The Doctor is always suspicious. It’s part of his nature,’ she giggled.

‘I think probably that the Doctor’s past experiences have taught him it’s always better to keep an open mind,’

said Burton.

‘Absolutely, Mr Burton. Remember Mel, things may look simple, but they are always at least twice as complicated as they first appear,’ replied the Doctor.

Arrex parted the gorse bush as he heard the hike approaching. He and Callon shared a glance and pushed small silver-flighted tracker darts into their weapons. The bike was slowing down for the bend as they stepped into the centre of the road, weapons raised.

The Doctor caught sight of the Bannermen. He realized that there wasn’t enough space to squeeze between them and the hedgerows which flanked the road, so he did the next best thing – he accelerated straight at them. As the Bannermen dived out of the way they fired: one of their small darts embedded itself in the sidecar and the other flew off at a tangent into the woods.

‘Did they get you, Doctor?’ gasped Mel.

‘No. I don’t think they were trying to kill us,’ said the Doctor, glancing in the mirror in time to see Arrex and Callon trying to free themselves from the snagging gorse bushes.

‘Well, that certainly makes a change,’ said Mel, not convinced.

Burton, his face frozen in a grimace, clung on for dear life.

Goronwy was showing Billy and Delta around his hives.

He and Billy were both wearing veils but Delta seemed at home with the insects and walked bare-headed among them, holding her daughter’s hand. The child was now about the size of a six-year-old, and already her skin tone and hair colour were starting to resemble her mother’s.

Goronwy led them to a large white hive right in the middle of the others.

‘This is the queen’s hive,’ he said grandly.

‘What’s that white stuff?’ asked Billy, peering at some gooey white fluid in the waxy cells.

‘Royal jelly – it’s super-food made by the bees. It has the ability to change an ordinary worker bee larva into a queen,’ said Goronwy.

Billy was suddenly more interested. ‘That’s all there is to it? A better diet?’ he said.

‘Never underestimate the power of nature, Billy. Come, I want to show you something.’

Goronwy lifted his veil and walked to the tall barn behind his house. Billy and Delta followed, with her young daughter trailing behind, chewing on a piece of honeycomb.

Goronwy unlocked the door and threw it open. Billy and Delta could just see the glint of something inside.

Goronwy led them in. There, on a trestle table, stood hundreds of jars of honey.

The barn was stacked from floor to ceiling with boxes.

On the side of each carton was a fat bee. The rest of the barn was filled with all the normal paraphernalia of farming – coils of rope, wire, ladders, spades and forks.

Hanging from the ceiling was a feed chute which could be raised and lowered by rope.

‘Look at this – Wales’ finest! And all created by those wonderful tiny insects,’ said Goronwy, proudly gesturing to the mountain of honey.

‘How long did it take for them to make all this?’ asked Billy, slightly overcome by the scale of the production.

Goronwy scratched his chin. ‘I don’t really know –

we’ve been working together for so long that I’ve completely lost track of time. But I remember this one especially well,’ he said, blowing the dust off a jar and holding it up to the light. ‘It’s 1932, a hot summer with abundant cherry blossom – a classic honey!’ he said with pride.

‘Incredible!’ said Billy in awe.

‘Take it boyo,’ said Goronwy, offering him the jar.

‘Accept it with our compliments.’

‘Thanks. It will be just the thing for my toast,’ said Billy. Mundane activities such as breakfast seemed a distant memory.

Delta’s child, sitting on a box, suddenly started making an extraordinary grizzling sound. ‘She’s due to change –

the singing time is near,’ said Delta. She took a tube of greenish liquid from her knapsack and gave it to the child who sucked greedily at it.

Billy watching in fascination. ‘What’s the singing time?’

he asked.

Delta looked up as she helped the child to squeeze the final drops from the tuble. ‘It’s the next stage in her growth. This food will boost her energy for the metamorphosis.’

‘Will she grow up into a princess?’ asked Billy, still barely believing his eyes.

Delta nodded. ‘Yes. Her hair and eyes are already changing to my colouring. She’s been fed on this substance since birth.’

Billy’s eyes narrowed in concentration as a thought flashed through his mind. Surely it was too fanciful, too strange, too implausible... but just maybe...

A strange vibrant sound cut the air like a knife, causing Billy to wince and involuntarily put his hands up to his ears. ‘Sometimes it sounds really pretty, other times it’s just horrible,’ he said, glaring at the small green creature.

‘The sound oscillates – one frequency is an attack warning, the other is musical. Soon she will be able to control it,’ said Delta, taking the child in her arms.

The sound of approaching vehicles caused them to look up. Ray arrived on her scooter closely followed by Hawk and Weismuller in the Morris.

Goronwy rushed outside to meet them, pleased and excited to receive more visitors. He was glad that he had stocked up with ample supplies of tea and cakes. He had always thought that it was very important to extend one’s hospitality to both friends and strangers alike. The Americans were slightly dazed to be back at the farm, and took some coaxing to get out of the car.

Delta took the infant by the hand and wandered outside, leaving Billy to collect her knapsack. He picked it up and then paused, hesitating for a minute before reaching into the sack and producing a tube of the green high-protein larva food. Putting it into his pocket he stepped outside to join the others.

Some distance away Arrex held the open spiked collar in his hand, his anger matched only by his fear of Gavrok.

There was nothing else for it but to contact his chief. He clicked on his radio transmitter. ‘Tracker darts in place, sir,’ he said confidently, hoping that the good news would outweigh the bad. ‘And the... uh... prisoners have escaped, sir,’ he said, glancing nervously at Callon for support.

Callon was staring at the ground. He had witnessed the wrath of Gavrok many times before and wasn’t too hopeful about his response to their blunder.

There was a long silent pause. Finally, Gavrok spoke,

‘Pursue at once. I will follow the signal.’ The radio whined, indicating that the discussion was over. Arrex and Callon shared a sigh of relief and set off down the road at a fast jog, not quite knowing where they were going or what they hoped to find. But anything was better than waiting there for Gavrok to arrive.

‘We should have put their craft out of action,’ said Callon. Arrex laughed. ‘That piece of primitive technology was only fit for humanoids. We can move faster of foot.

They can’t have got far away. We’ll find them and when we do...’

‘They won’t try and escape again in a hurry,’ said Callon completing the sentence.

They both felt more confident that they would be able to put matters right. Above all else, they had to avoid irritating Gavrok any further.

Meanwhile, the Doctor kicked the Vincent into neutral as they approached a crossroads. Burton pointed the way and they tore off down the road, the silver tracker dart still stuck firmly in the nose of the sidecar.

Gavrok was standing near the gates of Shangri-La, staring at a small fiat screen in his hand. He was following the radar blip being emitted by the tracker dart. ‘Return to the fighter!’ he snarled at his men.

They slung their weapons over their shoulders and started towards their craft. Gavrock trailed behind, still staring at his blip screen, a look of intense irritation on his face. He was about to hand it to his adjutant when he suddenly noticed an orange glow impinging onto the screen from the direction of the TARDIS. Gavrok stopped and slowly turned his screen towards the Doctor’s craft. As he approached the TARDIS the whole surface lit up with a tangerine tinge, indicating a vessel of considerable power.

‘So, Doctor,’ smirked Gavrok to himself, ‘we have found your ship. It will be your downfall.’

Gavrok threw hack his head and let out a shrill whistle which stopped the Bannermen in their tracks. Gesturing to the nearest Bannerman, Gavrok harked, ‘Sonic cone! At once!’ The nervous soldier ran towards Gavrok, at the same time reaching into his pouch and producing a small blue pyramid-shaped object. He carefully handed the cone to Gavrok who growled at him. The Bannerman immediately locked his fingers to form a stirrup.

Gavrok stood in the man’s hands and reached up onto the top of the TARDIS where he steadied the sonic cone in place. He then removed the safety screw, giving him five seconds to get clear. He hopped down and he and the Bannermen moved well clear of the TARDIS. Gavrok took the priming box from his belt and hit the red button. An answering red light started flashing on the sonic cone. The weapon was now fully armed and ready to go.

It worked by emitting a cone of ultrasonic sound which radiated within a specific area around it. If anything were to break the sonic cone by attempting to enter its parameters it would trigger a massive explosion. The TARDIS had been booby-trapped in such a way that anyone entering the craft would be blown into a million pieces.

Gavrok picked up a stick and tossed it in a slow arc towards the invisible force field. As the twig entered the field of power it atomized in a brilliant flash of light.

Gavrok gave a rattling laugh and headed for the fighter.

Blades of sweet young grass and stalks of clover were crushed under the heavy wheels of the Vincent. The Doctor had turned off the main road and was now bouncing his way across an open meadow. The only other inhabitants of the field were a couple of sheep and a goat tethered in one corner. Mel’s face revealed her perplexity.

‘Why are we stopping here, Doctor!’

‘In order to lengthen the odds against us. May I borrow your ribbon, Mel?’ Mel handed her pink ribbon to the Doctor who leaned down and killed the engine as they reached the goat. The goat gave them a disdainful look through its yellow eyes and then carried on chomping the grass.

Hawk and Weismuller were leaning against the Morris.

Hawk had a look of dull disbelief on his face. Billy, Delta, Ray and Goronwy stood in silence as Weismuller outlined their scuffle with the Bannermen in minute detail, going over and over the same points umpteen times. Puffing himself up before his captive audience he gestured away over the brow of the hill towards his attackers.

‘Sure we tried to fight our way out, but there was just too many of them,’ said Weismuller waving his arms about.

‘You should see what’s left of the radio and tent. Noth’n’, but a hole in the ground. Their leader was about seven feet tall, a realy ugly-looking guy. But I gave it to him straight.

"Look!" I said, "we’re working for the President of the United States of America. You mess with us and you mess with
him
." We could tell that shook him up a bit. So anyway there we were surrounded by these jokers, staring death in the face.’

‘OK, Weismuller I think they get the picture,’ said Hawk, a little embarrassed by Weismuller’s make-believe show of bravado. ‘All I know is that they’re not Americans!’ said Hawk triumphantly. ‘No Yankee would carry on like that!’ he said, glaring at the others, daring them to contradict him.