«» Summer Afternoon «»
«» Dalekweek Refugee from Deviantart «»
o0O¥O0o A/N o0O¥O0o
Seems that we have an active plagiarist on Fan Fic Net robbing off fic from Deviantart net. I've a crop of fics on Devi. They're all done as story-per-day; some for Dalekweek & some not but all done with a superfast pen & no sense of sanity. They're getting posted over here as a safeguard; so any of my Lev Fics on Devi pre twenty-fifteen are likely gonna be repeats of Fan Fic Net. Just a hint in case you decide to visit me over there.
Don't fret whatever - the tale is not as squick as it looks to be at one point. For those omadhauns as don't get it »»» this is a Dalek fiction.
o0O¥O0o
Deryn frowned in puzzlement; after completing their simple diplomatic mission to the Ottomans, the one that had blossomed into outright revolution, she couldn't begin to imagine what manner of mission orders could compel the captain to chart so circuitous a course. The natural bent for an airship was to fly directly across whatever terrain was below, spurning road, river and rail to plot as straight a course as could be to whatever was the destination but here they were skirting the borders between the Russian, Ottoman and British Empires. The Leviathan was most slavishly and diligently tracing the curves of the Indian ranges, sailing into the balm of an Indian Summer in the hills. The answer wasn't long in coming and, naturally, it was the same clart as ever; a mission for the Darwin family. Dr Barlow arraigned Alek and Dylan before her in her office as she enlisted them into her latest project:
"As 'Bovril' has unanticipatedly imprinted on two persons I am taking the opportunity to consult with a colleague of mine who has laboratories near Srinagar; it is only a trifling diversion and the captain has given permission for the two of you to accompany me. We will be disembarking shortly at a plateau beneath the establishment. Despite my most earnest protestations the captain has been entirely intransigent about venturing into the narrower passes, which means that we will have somewhat of a walk before us and I must caution you not to taken aback by whatever you may encounter. My colleague has undertaken his work this close to the Ottoman Empire so that he can experiment with amalgams of Darwinist and Clanker components."
"Ye mean walker beasties!" Dylan expostulated ... "Precisely, Mr Sharp" was Dr Barlow's crisp rejoinder.
Fresh from their recent immersion in the Ottoman imbroglio with images of the Kraken and Tesla devastations ricocheting thru their minds both Alek and Dylan were on tenterhooks as, shortly after, they proceeded along the mountain passes. Nothing untoward was to be seen however and the majesty of the rising foothills, the summery breezes, mild sunshine and the spectrum of exotic foliage made it seem more of holiday than anything else. For Deryn it recalled days of tramping in the Scottish hills and for Alek it was redolent of days spent with his father traversing their estates so they were nothing loath to wait on a lower plateau ... as Dr Barlow went ahead with the rest of the party and Bovril, intending to introduce the loris before presenting the duo it had imprinted on.
The twosome stretched themselves on a flower bedecked meadow with a picnic that Dr Barlow had, providentially, brought along, between them. Around the edges of the glen there rose the domed shape of stupas, a feature of the local religion. The combination of homeliness and foreignness was truly beguiling. It was the most apposite setting one could imagine to turn the thoughts of the youngsters away from the war and peril they'd passed thru and onto more romantic matters.
"Wouldn't this be the ideal place to bring Lilit; what could be more perfect for a hero and his lady love." Alek teased. Lolling back and grinning fiercely as Dylan sat bolt upright to splutter:
"Barking spiders, you do come out with some clart Alek; she's no way my lass and I'm no kind of barking hero ... you're the one who has his face in all the papers with your bold escape from Austria." There was no deflecting Alek though, he had the perfect argument:
"I wasn't the one she kissed though, was I ? You enjoyed that, I know you did!" That was too much for Deryn:
"But she's a Girl !"
"And you're boy, if you Darwinists know anything it has to be how boys and girls go together." Alek teased and rushed on, carried away with his mischief: "Unless the things they say about middies ... are ... true ... I mean ... you don't have ... much ... female company onboard do you ..."
Alek stumbled to a halt as his words seemed to circle the glen and bombard both their heads; gradually his thoughts caught up what he'd spoken and he gazed across at Dylan as the maelstrom of doubts and desires that had besieged him of late settled to a seething suspicion. There had always been certain "tendencies" along his genetic line; if these had bred true in him; if Dylan had grown askew as a middy then perhaps here was a pairing that could blossom without the curse of progeny to bedevil it.
Deryn hardly knew where to put her face as Alek's words sank in and she saw a road opening up that she'd never imagined in her wildest fantasies. She raised her eyes to the rim of the glen; not daring to meet Alek's eyes for the moment she let her gaze rest on the curved top of the stupa there ... then let out a cry, as the shape moved forward.
Alek was instantly on the alert; blooded companions in peril they felt the mood of a moment before slough away from them both as they turned to face this unexpected incursion which, they felt sure, could only betoken danger. It was some form of clanker shaped like a pepperpot with two crystal horns and an eye on a long stalk set into a domed, swivelling head. From the midsection there sprang two stiff, rodlike arms and, below that, the body of the apparatus flared out into a rigid, rivet-embossed skirting. It was about the size of an average person and seemed to be articulating the word "Ex ... tinct ... ion" repetitively in a guttural, jarring voice as it approached; nothing about it seemed friendly.
One of the protuberances on its midsection began to glow and Alek and Dylan, with one accord, flung themselves sideways barely in time to avoid a beam of light that lanced between them and totally expunged the picnic they'd just been enjoying. With a brief, horrified glance at the vacant space; the twosome took to their feet and fled across the glen, up towards the edge and the path that would lead them out of there. They jinked and weaved as they went but it was all open ground and the clanker behind them had a fearsome rate of fire. Long before their feet were pounding along the track, in the direction Dr Barlow had gone, their clothes were singed and holed with innumerable near misses and each of them was sporting a stinging array of fresh burns. Their bodies tingled where the strange beam grazed them smarting and numbing at the same time, with much the same effect as the Tesla cannon had had.
Broaching the path they flung themselves forwards anxious to get some cover between themselves and the engine of destruction pursuing them but it was futile: bushes and boulders alike burst asunder under the deadly beam and stupas scattered into a zillion shards. Dylan and Alek gasped for breath, barely able to keep up their exertions in the thin, mountain air that was being superheated and burnt away by the ceaseless energy blasts cascading from their mechanical foe.
They rounded the first bend in the path as it curved on up the mountain in short arcs, they put their all into getting as many turns of the path as possible between themselves and the implacable clanker, knowing all too well that it had every advantage of stamina. They would tire and tire quickly in the mountain climate. The summer afternoon's heat that had been so pleasant a while ago drew the perspiration from their bodies, glued their clothes to them, drank the moisture from their cells and the energy from their muscles.
Behind them the hunting cry of "Ex ... tinct ... ion" grew ever closer. Ahead of them the arcs of the path lengthened out; as their strength failed them greater and greater speed, more and more effort was called for, to traverse the distance and make the next turn before the clanker had them in range ... inevitably they failed. Dylan was just spinning around a curve in the path when a fiery concussion slammed into the middy's calf, sending him toppling forward to tangle with Alek and bring them both sprawling to the earth. They were up in an instant but had lost their impetus as well as desperately needed distance. Dylan's leg was badly burnt and the boot entirely gone, which was a handicap they could well have done without.
Ahead of them, on a prominence, they could see the laboratory only a few turns of the path away but it might as well have been at the other end of the world for all the chance they had of reaching it in safety. To the right of them was another of the small glens that had littered the path all the way up; urgently they twisted into it, hoping the clanker would miss them and roll on up to the laboratory where, surely, Dr Barlow's colleague would have some form of failsafe. It was a futile hope, the sound of "Ex ... tinct ... ion" pursued them into the tiny clearing; there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to dodge as the clanker came into view and harried them across the glen to the very lip of the mountainside. Here there was nothing but a sheer drop behind them, many pylons high, all the armed members of their party had gone ahead and nobody at the laboratory seemed aware of their plight. Dylan and Alek stood together awaiting their end as the clanker ceased firing; apparently wanting its victory to be as personal as possible, it closed on them rapidly ... then shot on past, over the edge of the void with a last cry of "Ex ... tinct ... ion".
"Harrumph" exploded Dr Barlow, from where she had just emerged at a higher turn of the path.
Dylan rounded on her at once: "Was that one of your colleagues creations? Was it really part creature? It seemed quite mad!"
Dr Barlow could bear to tolerate the inquisition this once as the lad had just endured something of an ordeal: "Yes it was Davros' creation, yes it was part creature; no it wasn't at all insane but he really should choose the creatures he incorporates more carefully; a lemming just won't do.