The Unnamed Feeling, 22.

[Fitz Kreiner]

22
Hero Of The Day.

Steve Murdoch awoke with a start. Emergency klaxons were blaring throughout the base, the sound almost deafening in his quarters. Swinging his legs out of the bunk, Steve suddenly became aware of something very wrong; he was finding it difficult to breathe. It was then he registered the howling that accompanied the klaxon, the sound of decompression. The base had been punctured somehow and the emergency systems hadn’t kicked in yet. It was then he noticed that the emergency lighting was on; there was a chance that the emergency systems wouldn’t kick in.

Grabbing his trousers and boots, Murdoch quickly pulled them on, he had to get to an emergency access panel and activate the emergency seals. The fact that nobody had done it yet, told Murdoch that the emergency was critical. If someone else was going to hit the emergency controls, then it wouldn’t make any difference, but he was going to go for it anyway.

There were emergency oxygen masks in a small storage cupboard in his quarters, kept there for such emergencies as this. Reaching up, he pulled the small door to the storage cupboard open and withdrew a mask. Securing it around his mouth and nose, Murdoch turned to the door to his quarters. The decompression made the door stick very quickly before it had opened far. Reaching his fingers into the small gap, Murdoch pulled with all his might to open the door only the fraction that he needed to squeeze through.

Stepping into the corridor, Murdoch could feel the pull of the decompression on his clothes. There was clearly a large breach in the hull of the base. He knew there was an emergency access terminal about fifty yards from his quarters, yet with the decompression, the short trip took three times as long as it should have.

Pulling himself up so he could see the wall based terminal, Murdoch was shocked at the size of the tear in the walls. What could have caused it? It looked as though part of the base had been blown away, or hit by an asteroid. He thought there were systems in store to protect from asteroid hits? The small hatch below the terminal was still firmly closed. Balling his fist, Murdoch hit the glass cover, ignoring the red hot needles of pain that lanced through his arm as the glass shattered. Reaching in, he grabbed the red lever within and pulled. Nothing happened.

Looking up, Murdoch saw red LED’s flashing in the decompression areas, where the walls had been breached. Cursing under his breath, Murdoch tapped in his personal code into the keypad and pulled hard at the red lever again. This time he felt the lever move under his hand, slightly at first before coming further down. Dropping to his haunches, Murdoch lowered his body weight and pulled again at the level, this time it moved further, Murdoch throwing his whole body weight behind it.

With a satisfying ‘klunk’, the level fell into place. The roaring sound of the decompression and tugging pull started to lessen very quickly. His ears popping, causing him to clutch at his head, Murdoch slumped back against the wall, breathing heavily. He had done it. The air-tight security seals had closed and the decompression had stopped. He could hear the sound of the back-up tanks of oxygen whirring into life. Reaching up, he pulled off his oxygen mask, ridding himself of the smell of clinical rubber and plastic and taking huge gulps of clean and fresh oxygen rich air. The experience was almost dizzying in its euphoria.

Something really bad must have happened whilst he was asleep. What had happened since he had handed over shifts to Christina, Murdoch looked at his watch, seven hours ago? He hadn’t been called up for an emergency shift, which was a plus; he decided, however, there must have been a reason for the emergency lighting. Maybe it was another power outage. Either way, emergency lighting still meant an emergency, he should report to the dome to see if there was anything he could do to help.

Turning, Murdoch headed for the outer ring, the quickest route to the dome, bypassing the crew quarters. He was turning onto the corridor which contained the Eastern Airlock, when he saw them, four bodies, crewmen, lying in the corridor. Immediately, he was by the side of the nearest one, his hand at their throat, checking their pulse; dead, a look of sheer terror on their face. Stepping to each one, Murdoch noted with great sadness that they were all dead, Franz, his room mate and friend among them. It was then he noted the blackened and scorched mark on the chest of their base uniform. Something terrible had happened. Why hadn’t he been called for the emergency?

Quickening his pace, Murdoch ran down the corridor, having to grab the corners of the corridors to help pull himself around. The route he was taking would take him through the sick bay; he could most probably catch up with doctor Miles or maybe the Chief there. It was when he got through the doors into the sick bay that he stopped in horror; he could see the body of Miles lying on one of the beds, the pallor of his skin and position of his body told him, even at this distance, that he was dead. There was another body on the floor near the bed, covered with a white sheet.

There was something else there, something that was equally as horrifying as seeing the body of his boss lie dead on one of the beds. It was silver and metallic, and looked very much like a robot, blank holes for eyes and a black slit for a mouth and a metal and plastic contraption on its chest with wires running from it to the top of the arms and legs. Murdoch felt a great sense of trepidation run through him, what was this creature and why was it here? How did it get here even? Was this what had caused the emergency? Were there more of the creatures? With horror, he remembered the bodies of the four crewmen he’d seen in the corridor.

The base had been invaded; strange silver robotic creatures had burst in and killed his friends. That was the only explanation. But who had brought these silver things into the base? There must be only one possible culprit for this; the strange Doctor and his friends. The trouble had started when they began, that had to be it, didn’t it? After all, he hadn’t seen the body of the Doctor or either of his friends, yet he’d seen several of his crewmate’s bodies. Why hadn’t any of the strangers been killed?

It was then he heard the noise. A vast cacophony of noise that at first seemed to come from nowhere, building steadily; an unearthly mechanical wheezing and groaning that grew in intensity. It was then he felt the slight waft of a breeze and the noise finally seemed to develop a source, the corner of the sick bay. Murdoch watched in silent astonishment as a large shape solidified out of thin air; a blue box with a flashing light on top. It was this which appeared to be the cause of the noise. As he watched, the door opened and a dark figure dashed out, apparently shouting to someone or something still within.

“-might not have much time,” the figure finished before pausing and looking around, apparently confused.

It was then Murdoch recognised the figure; the Doctors young friend, the young man. The anger boiling over in him, Murdoch grabbed the closest object to hand, and raising it high, screamed and started forwards towards the young man. Taking a step back, astonished, Tom bumped into Anneke who was following him out of the TARDIS, also at speed.

“What the-?” she started, spotting Murdoch’s advance. “Steve, no!” she cried out, albeit too late as, off balance, Tom’s body collided painfully with the floor. “What are you doing?”

“It’s them,” Murdoch replied, raising his hand again, “they brought those things here, killed my friends.”

“No, we didn’t,” Tom said, from the floor, one arm up in defence.

“It’s true, Steve,” Anneke said. “Those things have been here for years planning this.”

Steadying his breathing, Murdoch looked at Anneke, she was his friend, and had never lied to him so far. She’d been on base for two years before he had and had befriended him on his first day. Her eyes were wide and imploring, they gave Murdoch no reason to disbelieve her. Begrudgingly he lowered his arm. It was then he looked at what he had chosen as his weapon, if he wasn’t so shocked and horrified at what he’d seen in the past few minutes, he would have laughed; it was a bed pan.

“Thanks,” Tom said, pulling himself to his feet. “I knew we’d be in the nuts, but that,” he nodded to what Murdoch held.

It was then the tension snapped for Murdoch, unsure whether to laugh or cry, he leant against the nearest bed and did both. Crossing from the TARDIS, Anneke put her arm around her friend, she could understand how he felt, she had seen two of her friends killed since this started, one of whom was part on their way to becoming a Cyberman, which sounded more horrific that being shot dead as Christina had been. She could see Miles’s body lying on one of the beds and the sheet covered body told her that another of the base crew was dead. The thought of all the deaths made her feel physically sick and dizzy. She was almost glad she was in sick bay feeling like this, although from what Tom had said to her, she had to quickly get over it, the only problem was, she didn’t know whether she’d be able to.

Tom was rummaging through the cupboards, occasionally boxes and bottles flying over his shoulder and clattering on the floor behind him. What he was doing, Anneke wasn’t sure, and how he was so calm and collected through all this now, she didn’t know either.

“Corrosive, corrosive,” Tom muttered standing up and stroking his beard again, one hand on his hip.

“What are you looking for?” Anneke asked.

“Something corrosive, something that will attack the chest units of the Cybermen,” he said, his other hand going to his hip as he turned to Murdoch. “You’re one of the medical team, have you got anything like that?”

“Like what?” Murdoch asked, wiping his face on a sheet he picked up from the bottom of the bed he was stood near.

“These Cybermen are more primitive than those I’ve met before,” Tom explained. “Some two thousand years more primitive. Their chest units contain certain plastics and are more open to fluid it seems, I was wondering whether you’ve anything that can dissolve plastic here. It might have an effect on them.”

“I see what you mean,” Murdoch said, his face brightening. “You’re after something that will destroy these metal things?”

“In one,” Tom replied. “I’m thinking acid, or acetate or something along those lines.”

“Chemistry wasn’t my strong point, but I might be able to help,” Murdoch said, suddenly animate.

*

He had been thrown clear of the grasp of the controlled member of the science team in the aftershock of the explosion, and now the Doctor was crawling across the floor, the roar of the decompression in his ears. The dropping pressure caused his ears to pop, but he chose to ignore this, instead centring his vision on what he could tell were the legs of Jess, sticking out from behind a desk. He had to get to her, had to see whether she was alright.

The tugging was strong on his clothes and hair and the air was being pulled from his lungs. He knew it was because of the decompression and the size of the breach must be rather excessive for the effects to be this strong. No oxygen masks had dropped from the compartments on the ceiling of the base, which worried the Doctor. The emergency batteries obviously didn’t extend that much power.

Crawling round the desk, he could see Jess, lying unconscious on the floor, her hair whipping across her face as the atmosphere was sucked from the base. The Cybermen’s skull cap lay on the floor, about a foot from where she had fallen, having become disconnected in her fall. Positioning himself under the desk, the Doctor turned Jess’s head towards him and gently lifted her eyelids. She was going to be ok, it seemed, if the decompression could be stopped.

The Cybermen wouldn’t bother with the decompression, the Doctor felt sure, although it would mean the end of their work force. He had to do something to stop it. There were still many people on the base whose lives he could still save. He would have to find somewhere, a computer terminal maybe, which gave the location of the decompression and see if there was a way to seal it off.
Using the desk to pull himself up, the Doctor pulled round the LCD screen and keyboard. The monitor was flickering, the image unclear. Tapping at some of the keys experimentally and finding nothing working, the Doctor opted for a different approach. Calling his fist, he brought it down on the top of the monitor, shaking it and wincing slightly in pain, the flat screen not making for the most comfortable things to hit. However, the heavy handed approach seemed to work as the image on the screen stabilised.

Pulling the keyboard back and flexing his fingers, the Doctor prepared to start to search the computer systems when a shadow fell across him. He would have sighed had he the breath when he looked up; the Cyber leader was stood before him, its gun levelled at his head. The Doctor saw the small metal slit behind the mouth slide up, but whatever the Cyberman spoke was lost to the sound of the decompression. Gasping, the Doctor raised his hands; he literally didn’t have the breath to argue.

Reaching across the desk with its free hand, the Cyber leader grabbed the computer monitor and pulled it away, sparks jumping from the broken linkages as the piece of equipment broke away. Tossing it aside, and unaffected by the effects of the decompression, the Cyber leader then pulled the desk away, knocking the Doctor back off his feet as he stumbled and tripped over Jess’s unconscious form.

It was then the decompression stopped, causing the Doctor to wince again as his ears popped with the reinstating of the atmosphere. The sound of the oxygen pumps, furiously pumping in air started up, the only sound to an eerie silence. Groans came from all around the dome as the base crew groggily started to get to their feet, gasping in great lungs full of air. Everyone seemed to be ignoring the Cybermen as they struggled up to a sitting position, getting their breath back.

“You will remain there,” the Cyber leader said, indicating the Doctor before turning to the controlled science team, who were now stood, breathing heavily the Doctor noted. “Check the probe. The device will be ready for another attack if the Earth does not surrender to us.”

Whilst the Cyber leader was occupied, the Doctor took a quick moment to check Jess over. She was still breathing, which was good, and her pulse was steady. It was probably for the best for her that she was unconscious during what happened. A faint groan escaped her lips as the Doctor checked over her; she would no doubt be coming round very soon. If only he could find a way to diffuse the situation as it stood. The shadow of the Cyber leader falling over him again reminded him of what was happening.

“Really, do we have to go through all this palaver again, leader?” the Doctor asked, clearly exasperated.

“There is nothing to ‘go through’ again,” the Cyber leader said. “Earth will be ours, your resistance is over. You are to be taken back to our ship for mind analysis and conversion.”

The Doctor merely raised an eyebrow at the Cyber leader. “Oh really?” he asked with a wry smile. “And what do you think was the cause of that explosion we felt; magic, space pixies, moonquake? I think you should check with your chums, because I don’t think your ship is there any more.”

The Cyber leader took a step backwards and turned to the other Cyberman in the dome. Silently it motioned to its underling, who stepped back and raised its hand to its chest unit. A small antennae rose out of the central section as the creature opened its internal communications system.

Getting to his feet, the Doctor took another quick look down at Jess before taking in the sight of the dome. The place was a mess, papers and electronic note pads were scattered about, desks and chairs upturned and broken glass lying about. The small group of base crew who weren’t controlled by the Cybermen were huddled in a group, not sure what to do. The Doctor hoped that there were still other crewmen held in the mess deck.

The science team still seemed to be under Cyber control, the control device the Cybermen had brought it was still sat on a desk, pulsing away with the red light within. At the probe, the team worked, the whining of the machinery and Gravitron filling the dome. Cocking his head, the Doctor listened; he was sure that he could hear another sound over the background noise, a familiar sound.

“Any joy?” he asked the Cyber leader, clapping his hands together and trying to attract the Cyberman’s attention.

“You will remain silent,” the Cyber leader said, rounding on the Doctor who held his hands up in agreement. “Who could have caused the explosion?”

Keeping his mouth shut, the Doctor shrugged, motioning furiously with his hands.

“Answer,” the Cyberman ordered.

Again, the Doctor motioned with his hands, pointing from the Cyber leader, to himself, his mouth and then back to the Cyber leader before finally shrugging again.

“Your facetiousness will stop,” the Cyber leader said.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted me to be quiet,” the Doctor smiled. “And be careful there, Leader, you’re almost sounding annoyed.”

“Who could have caused the explosion?” the Cyber leader repeated.

“How should I know,” the Doctor replied. “I’ve been here all the time, remember? And besides, what would be the point of my doing it? I could have killed myself and my friend.” The Doctor nodded towards Jess.

“Illogical,” the Cyber leader said. “This statement does not correspond. You have admitted that you are an illogical being.”

“Oh you hadn’t forgotten that then,” the Doctor smiled checking his pocket watch and finding, with no surprise, that it was broken. “No, it’s not my style at all, Leader. Well, not unless it needs a big bang, it can be quite satisfying sometimes. This time, I think you may want to thank my friend Tom; it seems more in fitting with his style.”

“Contact cannot be established with the ship,” the Cyberman reported.

“Well, I hate to say I told you so,” the Doctor said, clapping his hands together. “Just two of you left? How are you going to win now, Leader?”

“We still have control,” the Cyber leader replied. “Our numbers will increase.”

The door behind the Doctor slid open and he automatically knew that a third Cyberman had entered the room before he turned round.

“Oh, a fifty percent increase?” the Doctor smirked. “That’s still three of you against seven billion on the planet below. Even if you can keep control of the base crew, then you’re not that much improved. Your control signal can easily be stopped.”

“Our control signal will no longer be needed,” the Cyber leader said. “We have the resources to convert this base and the colony into a new army. Earth will fall to us.”

“You’re still repeating yourself,” the Doctor cried, throwing his hands in the air. “You just can’t see it can you, you can’t win. You’ve no ship, how for instance are you going to get your troops to the Earth? There’ll be no more mind analysis or anything like that.”

“We shall transport to Earth with the colony shuttles.”

“Ah,” the Doctor stopped. He’d forgotten the transport from Armstrong to Earth; the shuttle links that went from the space port to the space elevators supplying colonists with supplies and transport.

“Your conversation is useless. You cannot stop the Cyber race,” the Cyber leader removed its weapon from below its chest unit again. “You will die.”

*

Jess groaned. She didn’t know where she was, all she knew was she should have stopped drinking long before she clearly did. If she had been drinking, that was. She was lying on something cold and hard, and her chest felt tight. Coughing, she tried to stop her head from spinning. There were half remembered images in her head from something, one thing, however, stuck out; Cybermen.

Opening her eyes, Jess looked about, not yet daring to lift her head. She was staring up at a high domed ceiling, desks at the periphery of her vision. She was in the dome on the Moon Base. She remembered that much. Only everything seemed a huge mess, things were scattered about the floor, chairs upturned. She could see other people lying on the floor, but she didn’t know whether they were dead or unconscious. She hoped it was the latter.

There was a throbbing background noise, although she wasn’t sure whether it was background noise or her headache, although she could pick up on two voices; one belonging to a Cyberman, the other instantly recognisable as the Doctor.

Swearing under her breath, Jess struggled up to a sitting position. She had to blink several times to clear her head but the dizziness soon dissipated. Feeling a slight chill suddenly, she looked down, remembering her experiences on the Cyber ship, her shirt was tied just under her breasts, the upper buttons done up, exposing her middrift, Goosebumps visible on her skin.

“Oh well,” she muttered quietly. At least she was decent, even if her clothes were ripped and stretched.

Unsure whether she would be able to stand on her own, Jess reached up and gripped the edge of two of the nearer desks and using them as crutches, pulled herself into a standing position. Feeling a wave of dizziness and nausea wash over her before passing, Jess felt her head clear, only vaguely aware of the droning voice of a Cyberman in the background.

Focussing her eyes on the figure before her, she could just make out the Doctor. He looked as though he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards, his hair a tangled mess, shirt and cravat ripped and pulled, and one of his coat sleeves was still sat comically on his arm, the rest of his coat nowhere in sight. He had his hands in the air and seemed surprised to have seen her stand up before him.

Getting a sudden cold feeling down her back, one that she’d had several times before during her travels with the Doctor; Jess slowly turned round. She knew before she had turned fully that there was someone or something behind her. Turning round she saw the tall and imposing figure of a Cyberman stood behind her. The black trim on its helmet and chest unit told her that this was the Cyberman in charge. It was holding a short stubby tube in its hand, clearly a gun, and the barrel was pointing directly between her eyes.

“Oh no,” Jess breathed. “Out of the frying pan,”