Doctor Who: Godengine by Craig Hinton

Author:Craig Hinton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science-Fiction:Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780426204732
Publisher: Virgin Books Limited
Published: 1996-07-15T10:00:00+00:00

‘You think that they deliberately brought us here?’ Then she groaned. ‘Of course they did. They must have been waiting for us to generate a stunnel; as soon as we did they grabbed it.’

‘Anyone mind if I have a quick nap?’ asked Felice. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.’ She lay back on the bed

– and that was when Chris realized what had been staring him in the face: the cots were far too small for Martian use, a clear indication that they were meant for humans.

More proof that Falaxyr had been expecting visitors –

human visitors.

‘Then this is a trap,’ stated Rachel. ‘Either that, or they were pretty desperate for company.’ She shook her head.

‘Come on then, Adjudicator; what’s the plan?’

‘I need just a bit more time,’ he said evasively. He considered their options. Falaxyr wouldn’t have had them taken to quarters so far away from his chambers – or the subspace manipulator – if he had an immediate need for them, so it was fairly safe to assume that they had at least a couple of hours before they were disturbed – unless, of course, their hosts took umbrage at Chris’s jamming their surveillance devices.

He began unpacking the rucksack onto one of the beds, hoping that it contained something that might prove useful.

Without their plasma rifles, they were unarmed; even Chris didn’t know how to turn a flashlight into a directed energy weapon. He pulled out a small white box: the first-aid kit that the Doctor had thrust into his hands just before the TARDIS

had been destroyed. Although he couldn’t really see how dermal patches and headache tablets could help them out of this situation, he might be able to make some sort of explosive if there were any useful chemicals inside. He opened the box.

Chris whistled through his teeth as he examined the contents of the kit. If this was the Doctor’s idea of first aid, he had a very weird bedside manner. With renewed hope, he began an inventory.

Falaxyr stood in front of the holographic cylinder, waiting impatiently for his allies to respond. Despite the usefulness of the alliance, the Grand Marshal hated to be kept waiting; military success depended upon precision timing, and he found it hard to believe that the new masters of Earth had managed to carve out an empire when they couldn’t even reply to an urgent communiqué promptly.

The cylinder suddenly began to sparkle.

‘Incoming transmission from Earth, Your Excellency,’ said the technician redundantly. And then, without needing to be told, he stepped away from the control panel and left the communications suite.

The image resolved, and Falaxyr stared at the holographic form of his ally.

‘Report,’ it intoned.

Falaxyr repressed a sigh of irritation. Even when he made the first move, the invaders always took the credit. If the stakes weren’t so high, he would have dissolved the alliance months ago. Unfortunately, Falaxyr needed them – for the time being, that was.

‘My technical staff report that the Ssor-arr duss Ssethissi approaches completion, Commander.’ No

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