All in all, the building of the ship progressed as smoothly as could be hoped. More than a few times, the Daleks' patience would run thin and they would shout and wave their guns furiously at the human beings –but they always eventually remembered their duty and stifled their exasperation. Just as often, the Latoshkian workers would bristle at the aliens' tendency to bully them and they would wave their tools threateningly and demand respect –but they always eventually remembered that the future of their entire colony relied on them and lowered their pride. It was soon agreed that the saucer wouldn't be given full temporal capabilities at first, to save most chronilite for the empire's requirements, but that the humans would mine the remaining required quantity from the nearer vein before the Daleks' return.
Despite the ever present anguish, Lillian allowed herself time to nurture human relationships. Nancy even convinced her to take a day off and hike in the countryside to relax, although leaving her communicator at her quarters was too much to ask. Watching the city from their viewpoint between the trees, she realised how scarred it still was, more than a year after the last attack. Still, they were alive, and relatively safe for the time being, which was more than could have been hoped back then.
At the Oriental Plains, the Daleks discussed the Latoshkians in private, their intolerable impertinence and the aberration of their existence, but also their uncanny ability to fend off superior forces and to always devise creative solutions where there should have been none. Chronilite mining operations would have come to an abrupt start if it hadn't been for their ingenious suggestion.
For all the human beings' physical and mental obnoxiousness, perhaps the Daleks could learn from them…
Upon returning to her quarters, Lillian's day turned sour as she discovered the Daleks had tried to contact her. A lump formed in her throat. Had the situation got out of hand at the shipyard? But then she remembered she'd kept her communicator, and Stephen would have informed her. Allowing herself to relax somewhat, she called back her contact.
"You wanted to talk to me," she stated curtly.
"LILLIAN ROBERTSON! I HAVE TRIED REACHING YOU FOR HOURS," he accused.
"You're the one who advised me to spend more time with my own kind just days ago," she retorted. "Now, what do you want?"
"HOW DID YOU CONCEIVE THE IDEA OF OPENING A SECOND WORMHOLE TO REDIRECT THE DEVOURERS?"
She shrugged. "I don't know, I just tried to think of any possible way to save Latoshk. Why?"
"ARE HUMAN DESCENDANTS CONDITIONED FOR THIS MINDSET?"
"We don't 'condition' our children, but yes, sort of. Education is meant to teach them resourcefulness and creative thinking. Again, why?"
"I REQUIRE YOU PROVIDE US WITH SUCH TRAINING DATA," he requested.
"And you've accepted?" Stephen frowned.
"The prospect of creative-thinking Daleks is a whole new level of terrifying," another member of the Council mumbled.
"For that to happen, they would have to actually be able to use what we'll be giving them," Lillian smirked.
Stephen tilted his head. "We've been willing to follow your lead from the beginning, Lillian. But usually, the dangers and potential benefits of each alternative are clear. Here, we're giving them something with basically nothing in return. How can you be sure they won't find a way to use it against us? We can't trust them with anything they ask, with anything that might give them yet another advantage."
Her eyes narrowed."Which is why we need to pick very carefully the most… typically human children material." She waved her hand dismissively. "Of course, we'll include basic school teachings, but the real meat will lie elsewhere. You all have children, or know people who do. Here's what I want you to look for…"
Meanwhile, an exchange between two grating, staccato, mechanical voices made Nancy pause in the infirmary's corridor. She tiptoed closer to the Dalek ward to spy on the discussion.
"–DEVISE A WAY TO ESCAPE AT ONCE OR SELF-DESTRUCT!" one was saying, weak, but strained with panic.
"NEGATIVE," her first patient to have regained consciousness replied. "WE NEED TO REMAIN IN THE HUMAN BEINGS' CUSTODY UNTIL WE HAVE RECOVERED SUFFICIENTLY FOR OUR LIFE SUPPORT TO COMPLETE THE HEALING."
"ALIENS CANNOT BE TRUSTED! OUR CAPTURE IS OBVIOUSLY A PLOY!"
"HUMAN BEINGS ARE WEAK. WE CAN BENEFIT FROM THEIR COMPASSION." Was Nancy imagining it, or was the word pronounced with disdain?
"THE RISK IS TOO HIGH. OUR PRESENCE HERE ENDANGERS THE DALEK CAUSE," the other Dalek insisted, but his voice sounded somewhat deflated. Albeit conscious, he would have still been in great pain and lacking the energy to argue for very long.
"IT IS UNLIKELY THEY ARE ATTEMPTING TO EXPERIMENT ON US OR OTHERWISE EXPLOIT US. ALREADY I HAVE REGAINED STRENGTH AND I MONITOR THEIR ACTIONS. SO FAR THEY HAVE DISPLAYED NO SIGN–"
The doctor smiled to herself as she turned heels to resume her way. Thank goodness for small mercies. At least she would be spared the headache of having again to teach the difference between a specimen and a patient to a Dalek.
Once the Council members all came back with their collected treasure, Lillian carefully reviewed each and every element before handing them to the Daleks. And she waited for their return.
It came a couple of days later.
"WE HAVE ANALYSED THE TRAINING DATA YOU PROVIDED US," the leader announced, "BUT THE ITEMS YOU LABELLED 'ENTERTAINMENT' MAKE NO SENSE. THE DEPICTED EVENTS ARE PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE AND THE CAUSALITY IS ABSURD. HOW CAN TEACHING YOUR OFFSPRING INACCURACIES BE OF ANY USE?"
"That's why it's called entertainment in the first place," she shrugged. "It's not supposed to be realistic, it's supposed to develop the children's imagination, their creativity. It teaches them to explore new ideas and it's what makes us so adaptable even after reaching adulthood."
"I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. THE ILLOGICALITY CAN ONLY CAUSE CONFUSION!"
"To you, perhaps, but not to us. On the contrary, it inspires us. Human children thrive on this kind of stuff. That's why you are Daleks, and we are humans. Come on, you are conformity-obsessed utilitarians bred for blind obedience, who don't even have individual names. Did you really think you could learn originality? Seriously? I guess it means you still can't get rid of us yet," she couldn't help taunting.
After a second of silence, the communication was cut without a warning. Affording herself a relief sigh, Lillian sank comfortably into her seat. She poured a glass of whisky and, lifting it, watched the light play with the amber liquor. Trusting the Daleks really was beside the point, she thought with a grin; all she had to do was always stay a step ahead of them. And she'd just succeeded quite nicely.