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  The Doctor joined Inyit on her bench. ‘I’m guessing where this is going.’

  ‘Indeed?’ She snipped away a branch or two from the seedling. ‘These cuttings were almost promising but would have distorted the perfect shape of the whole. It is vital for a gardener to see this. A gardener is given this gift, but on the understanding that she uses it judiciously. We had a similar gift – believing it inherited from the highest of beings, an endless Design that would take us the span of all creation to achieve.’ Inyit laughed. ‘A myth! We emerged from the chaos of the universe just like everything else, and the Gift of Death we found on Mordeela was simply a natural force, an energy that would spread out through the universe, meeting life as it found its level. We were wrong.’

  The Ninth Doctor sadly picked up the discarded cutting from the tree.

  ‘Our whole great Design was a waste of time. A waste of our species.’ The Kotturuh sighed. ‘We were not only holding back creation, we became corrupt. Swept down on worlds with zeal, passing out judgements that we could never justify – the Starless Skies were their work, so was the Desolation of Kastria. Where they could have spread out a lifespan in a painless instant, sometimes they … hunted.’

  ‘You became like us,’ Madam Ikalla said drily.

  The Kotturuh turned to examine the vampire, and inclined her head slightly. ‘We brought only death and cruelty.’ The sadness in Inyit’s tone softened the retort.

  Madam Ikalla said nothing. Neither did the Ninth Doctor. He simply placed the cutting back on the bench.

  Inyit took it up. ‘I can let this remain discarded, or I can plant it and give it another chance.’ She indicated the world beyond the biodome. ‘This is why I came here. To the first world we … I … judged, and judged wrongly. To make amends. To give life here another chance.’

  For a moment the three of them stared at the world outside.

  ‘Now,’ said Inyit, regarding the Doctor through her cowl, ‘you called yourself a doctor.’

  ‘Doctor. That’s me.’

  ‘You’re certainly not a doctor of botany,’ she replied tartly.

  ‘Eh?’

  Inyit nodded at the spider plant. ‘Look at that! What has it ever done to you to deserve this?’

  ‘I don’t know what’s happened,’ he said mournfully.

  ‘You’ve shown it friendship,’ Ikalla suggested.

  The Doctor placed the plant on the table in front of her. ‘I’ve done my best. Can you help?’

  Inyit reached out with her covered hand to gently touch one brown leaf. ‘Whatever have they been doing to you?’

  Staring up at the Great Vampire, the Tenth Doctor tore his eyes away and tapped the Bloodsman on the shoulder, shaking him gently out of his reverie.

  ‘I would like you to wake up,’ he said softly. ‘We’ve stumbled on a Dalek plan that is, like most Dalek plans, as bizarre as it is monstrous.’

  Gelsin gathered himself and stood by the Time Lord’s side. ‘My mind …’ he muttered. ‘I had forgotten the evil of them.’

  ‘Yes,’ the Doctor said, ‘That Great Vampire is screaming on every single wavelength. It’s the loudest call for help the universe has known. Because what’s happening here is obscene.’

  ‘We have to stop this,’ Gelsin said.

  ‘Absolutely,’ the Doctor said. ‘We have to destroy that thing and get out of here. But, before you go down there, I need to tell you something.’ He pointed over the gantry to the scene below them. ‘The door we came through was propped open by a fortuitously scattered bolt. Only I think it was put there deliberately. The Daleks know we’re here.’

  Below, the Dalek Strategist was staring up at them.

  ‘It is fitting you see the ultimate evolution of the Time Lord’s greatest enemies. You will be the first to die. We have lured you to your own execution.’

  Chapter Eleven

  The Eighth Doctor was trying to open the door when the Daleks found them.

  ‘Halt!’

  The Doctor turned around as the Daleks clanked towards them, guns twitching eagerly. Brian had already spun, translator globe raised. The Doctor put his arms up, gently moving Brian out of the attack posture he’d assumed.

  ‘There you are!’ he beamed. ‘I’ve found a prisoner. Very careless.’

  ‘This creature is of no value. It will be exterminated.’

  ‘It will not,’ said the Doctor. ‘I’m an honoured guest and your ally and I suggest we take him to the Time Commander on the flight deck. I know he’ll want to interrogate my prisoner.’

  The two Daleks conferred. Brian noticed that their guns kept adjusting their targeting on him minutely. Such admirably efficient machines.

  ‘Move!’

  As they marched through the ship, the Doctor kept pointing out sights of interest. He was, Brian noticed, building up a reasonable pretence of easy confidence.

  ‘Do the Daleks remember you are their ally?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Almost certainly,’ the Doctor said.

  ‘And how do they treat their allies?’

  ‘They normally end up the same as their enemies. Very dead.’ The Doctor pointed to a door. ‘Flight deck!’ he announced brightly.

  The Dalek Time Commander was waiting for them. The Eighth Doctor waved at him, then strolled insouciantly among the controls, checking settings, leaning over a Drone and muttering, ‘Oh, very good, keep it up,’ with the relaxed air of a benevolent teacher.

  ‘Doctor!’ rasped the Commander.

  ‘Oh, hello!’ the Doctor turned back, ‘I thought it was about time I said hello, what with having a prisoner and all. I worried you’d forgotten about me. I’ve been wandering around this ship for days, you know.’

  ‘You have not been on board!’

  ‘How would you know?’ The Doctor was incensed. ‘You let this creature wander on board. He could be a saboteur.’ He frowned. ‘Are you a saboteur?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh well!’ The Doctor brightened. ‘That’s all right then. Interrogation over. You may go.’

  ‘Stop!’ The Dalek Commander’s eyestalk had followed the Doctor around the room, watching as he leaned back against a navigation desk. The Doctor gave it the smallest of glances. ‘What a course you’ve been flying. Quite the whistle-stop tour of the Dark Times. But always heading somewhere … Where is that?’

  The Dalek Time Commander ignored him.

  ‘I’ll tell you another thing, Brian,’ the Doctor continued, with another tiny glance at the navigation systems. ‘Big Dalek ships like this one have smaller scout ships and they’ve been zipping everywhere. Busy bees.’ The Doctor drummed fingers on the screen.

  The Commander spoke. ‘The Doctor will not interfere with the Daleks’ Ultimate End!’

  ‘An Ultimate End! Was that a question or a statement?’

  ‘The Doctor will not interfere.’

  ‘Ah. A statement.’

  A pause.

  ‘Your TARDIS is needed to pilot us back through the time fracture to our own time. That is the limit of your usefulness. Our Dalek Scientists are confident that they understand its philosophy of movement. You may no longer be required.’

  ‘So we’re still in coalition, but I shouldn’t push it if there’s an election? Got you.’ The Doctor nodded. ‘But what is the Ultimate End? It isn’t saving what remains of the Kotturuh, is it?’

  The Time Commander glided over to the Doctor. ‘The Kotturuh must be exterminated.’

  ‘Oh.’ The Doctor blinked. ‘Forgive me, didn’t we come here to stop that? Changes to the timeline, and so on? Now you’re all for chucking the Web of Time into a shredder. What have you got against the Kotturuh? Can’t stand the competition?’

  Brian glanced at his translation globe. ‘I suggest that the Daleks might be scared.’

  ‘Scared?’

  ‘Indeed.’ Brian took in the entire flight deck of Daleks in a sincerely apologetic gesture. ‘I believe the Daleks are concerned that the Kotturuh might judge them. And
might, given their substantial contribution to the future universe, judge them harshly.’

  A dozen Dalek eyestalks swivelled to survey Brian.

  ‘Of course,’ Brian hemmed, ‘that is not my view, merely that of Mr Ball. He is somewhat lacking in tact.’

  ‘And yet,’ the Doctor said with a grin, ‘I think he’s spot on. Now they’re dying, the Kotturuh’s grand plan is out the window. Some of them might think killing species for selfish reasons a blasphemy. But for others …’

  ‘Such as the Kotturuh who came for the Brokers on Entranxis,’ Brian put in.

  ‘Right. The Daleks might well be fair game.’ The Doctor drummed his fingers on the screen again, and seemed to notice his index finger. ‘Oh look,’ he said. ‘What’s underneath this fellow? A planet called Birinji. And you’ve a scout ship on its way there. Why?’

  ‘The Doctor asks a question.’ The Time Commander sounded almost amused.

  ‘The Doctor asks a question,’ he agreed. ‘What’s Birinji? Is your Ultimate End on Birinji?’

  ‘Birinji is not the Ultimate End.’

  ‘Ah,’ the Doctor beamed. ‘So the Ultimate End is not a thing, it’s a destination. Good to know.’

  The Dalek Commander backed away a fraction of an inch.

  Eleven Dalek eyestalks switched to surveying their Commander.

  The Doctor held his hands up. ‘Now, now, don’t tell me any more! I know you’d love to, but I’m terribly bad at keeping gossip to myself. And you’ve already told me the Ultimate End is a planet, why you’re scared of the Kotturuh, and why you’re off to Birinji.’

  ‘All life on Birinji must be exterminated,’ the Time Commander confirmed.

  ‘Actually, sorry,’ the Doctor said, ‘You actually hadn’t told me that up until now.’

  ‘All life on Birinji must be exterminated,’ the Time Commander repeated, asserting itself.

  The Doctor glanced over at Brian, who tilted his head slightly to one side. What was on Birinji?

  On Birinji, a spider plant was having its leaves misted.

  ‘It is easiest to drown after a drought,’ Inyit confided, her tentacles stroking the leaves gently. ‘These plants are an example of the cascade of life. The mother plant prospers and sprouts these children – they contain all her wisdom. See? Simple and yet successful creations.’

  ‘Yeah,’ the Ninth Doctor said. ‘Also, you can abandon them for ages while you’re doing stuff and they more or less take care of themselves.’

  Inyit and Ikalla shared a glance.

  ‘What?’ the Doctor protested. ‘I don’t do high maintenance.’

  Inyit moved on to a desk crammed with saplings. ‘Here is another way of life continuing. A new cutting. An old, tired plant. The cutting will wither and die in the soil, the old plant is exhausted. But graft the new cutting onto the old rootstock and both thrive.’ She tapped a healthy-looking plant, its stems budding with beautiful flowers. ‘What continues is the best of both, and yet something new.’

  ‘All this is beautiful,’ the Doctor said politely.

  ‘He does not get it,’ said Madam Ikalla.

  ‘He does not get it,’ agreed Inyit, quietly amused.

  ‘Get what?’

  ‘Perhaps I am more sensitive than you.’ Madam Ikalla’s tone was dry. She was not even looking at the Doctor, but helping Inyit with the delicate transplant of a sapling to a larger pot. ‘Inyit came here for a reason. Sickened by her own species, desperate for life to continue here.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And –’ Inyit patted down the soil in the pot – ‘I became something new.’

  Deep in the hold, underneath the struggling form of the Great Vampire, the Dalek Strategist spoke. ‘Doctor, do not hide in the shadows.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, that’s stealing your act, isn’t it?’ The Tenth Doctor and Gelsin stepped forwards.

  ‘Do you approve?’

  ‘I’m not sure I approve of anything the Daleks do,’ said the Doctor. ‘Especially not hunting down a monster and trying to make it even more monstrous.’

  ‘More efficient,’ the Strategist chided him.

  ‘Efficient, yes, of course, let’s all praise efficiency.’

  ‘Your actions so far have been efficient.’ The

  Strategist sounded almost warm in its praise. ‘You have eradicated a threat to all life. You have cleared obstacles out of our way.’

  The Tenth Doctor pulled a face and turned to Gelsin. ‘I hate it when they flatter me.’

  The Strategist nodded its eyestalk. ‘You have served the Daleks well.’

  The words hung stinging in the air.

  ‘This is your reward,’ the creature continued. ‘You shall see the culmination of our work.’

  ‘You can’t. That thing is the greatest predator in the Dark Times,’ the Tenth Doctor said.

  ‘And we?’ the Dalek Strategist taunted. ‘We are the future’s greatest predator. A combination of the two should prove—’

  ‘Let me guess,’ said the Doctor. ‘Efficient.’

  The Dalek Scientist connected a tube up from the Great Vampire to an incubator tank. A Dalek mutant was lowered squealing into it.

  ‘Begin the process,’ the Strategist ordered.

  ‘Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should,’ the Doctor muttered.

  Light flooded the tank. Both the Dalek mutant and the Great Vampire began to scream.

  Controls flickered on the command deck of the saucer.

  ‘Energy supply to the hold exceeding predicted parameters,’ a Drone remarked.

  ‘This power drain is not authorised!’ the Commander barked.

  ‘Well now,’ the Eighth Doctor muttered to Brian, ‘I wonder what’s going on down there?’

  Still screaming, the mutant in the tank began to swell, its limbs thrashing and churning the liquid boiling around it, tugging against the tubes connecting it to the Great Vampire. At the same time, the vast creature above it seemed to shrivel and deflate.

  The Dalek Scientist made hasty adjustments to the controls.

  ‘Rate of genetic absorption is outside allocation,’ it announced.

  ‘That,’ said the Tenth Doctor, ‘is Dalek for “oops”.’

  But the Bloodsman did not answer. He was staring at the collapsing form of the Great Vampire. ‘This is wrong,’ he said. ‘I know that creature is evil. But she is also one of my gods. And she is dying.’

  The Dalek mutant surged and beat against the sides of the tank.

  ‘We cannot keep everything alive for ever,’ Inyit said as she and Madam Ikalla moved another pot onto a table. ‘But death allows for progress. These plants are all that remains of the Birinji that were. They adapt gradually, and one day they will sit in the world outside and flourish and then the world itself will flourish, and new creatures will emerge and grow and adapt and change. But –’ Inyit snipped away a bud, discarding it on the floor – ‘in order for that to happen, death has to happen too.’

  The Ninth Doctor thought of his past and future selves. ‘With death comes change,’ he murmured.

  The desiccated body of the Great Vampire fell into itself, her ancient limbs crumbling. The creature was still screaming, her screams so loud even the Daleks backed away. The only thing screaming more was the creature in the incubation tank, thrashing around until the unbreakable glass cracked. With one last hideous screech, the vampire turned to dust.

  The Dalek Scientist and Strategist stared at the bloated obscenity with what would have been clinical detachment were it not that they were noticeably backing away.

  The Tenth Doctor took Gelsin by the hand, pulling him away from the gantry’s edge. ‘It’s time we left.’ He raised his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the tank.

  The blast shattered the glass, spilling the mutant, thrashing and grabbing, towards the two Daleks. As they backed rapidly away, the mutant snatched at some cables and with little more than a gesture snapped them. There was a massive explosion.

  �
�Our legends are complicated,’ said Inyit of the Kotturuh. ‘Some of them are lies, some of them are elaborations around a kernel of truth. But there is one thing we know. However we came upon our power, the truth is we hoarded it inside ourselves and became connected to it. So …’ She turned to the Ninth Doctor, and her face seemed sad underneath the cowl. ‘Would you like to learn what happens when the Last of the Kotturuh dies? It is the last legend of the Kotturuh. It is why we told ourselves we must never cease in our task. The energies we became linked to on Mordeela are so strong that unless channelled through us they would be catastrophic.’

  ‘But Mordeela was sealed off,’ the Ninth Doctor said. ‘Plugged up like a genie in a bottle.’

  ‘Simpleton,’ Inyit chided him. ‘We are all linked to that energy. And when we die, that link passes out amongst us. Now I am the last link. When I die, what will happen?’

  The Dalek saucer failed. Its power drained completely. Its drive carbine went off-line. The ship slammed to a halt then drifted in darkness. Stilled and echoing, the command deck was lit only by the fluttering eyestalks of the Daleks on it, all of them groaning and slurring, their appendages twitching in the gloom.

  The Eighth Doctor, thrown to the floor, saw a hand reach down to help him up.

  ‘If I may,’ said Brian, ‘I would like to suggest we leave before the Daleks recover.’

  The Doctor shook his head, but that didn’t help. ‘So, you and I are still a “we”?’

  ‘There is the small matter of the door needing to be opened,’ Brian said.

  The Doctor got up and staggered to the bridge door. The sonic screwdriver was soon engaged with the locking mechanism. ‘This is reasonably straightforward,’ he muttered.

  Behind them, there was a grinding clank. The Dalek Time Commander was turning, slow and tank-like, to bear upon them.

  ‘Doc–’ it began.

  ‘How straightforward?’ Brian asked.

  ‘–tor …’

  ‘Not quite straightforward enough.’ The Doctor adjusted the settings and began again. ‘I could do with just one day without problematic doors.’