Chapter Fifteen

Extract from the memoirs of Professor Bernice Summerfield

The Brigadier hurried across Tower Green towards me. He had a machine gun slung over his soldier, and a squad of UNIT men behind him.

'Xznaal's going to release the gas once the warship is ten kilometres up. The Doctor's on-board.' I explained.

'Yes I know.'

'T minus one minute,' Bambera said. 'If you're going to abort the air-strike, you'll have to do it now.'

The Brigadier peered up at the ship. 'It's stopped firing.'

I brightened. 'The Doctor must be in control up there. Call off the attack.'

Lethbridge-Stewart nodded slowly. 'I think you're right.' He unclipped his radio. 'Greyhound to Eagle. Hold your fire. Await further orders.'

End of extract

The Doctor was looking up at the vast metal tank again, clearly in awe. The vast tank above him clattered.

'Lord Xznaal,' the intercom barked, 'we have reached the optimum altitude for dispersion.'

Xznaal maintained his position at the release controls, but he didn't pull the lever, not yet. Instead he stabbed at the control that opened the inspection hatches. The metal panels rolled back, revealing the Red Death. It boiled and bubbled like a giant kettle or a witch's cauldron. Eyes and fangs were forming in there, barbed limbs and spines the size of telegraph poles. It hissed and popped and wheezed. It growled and snarled and grunted. Limbs and appendages sprouted and withered as it tried and failed to find a break in the vessel that kept it contained.

The Doctor was standing alongside him.

'It is a thing of beauty,' Xznaal shouted over the din. 'Does it scare you?'