In the Red Hexagon's auxiliary storage facility, an elaborate metal chair had been dragged forward. There were controls fastened to both chair arms that looked like the ones on Davros' computer access device.
Security Liaison was sitting in the chair. A heavy metal circlet studded with wires was pulled down over her eyes; it looked like the one she had used with the access device, but this one had multiple bundles of cables leading in and out of it. Her gloved hands moved in a deliberate pattern on the chair's controls. Around the chair was a circle of prosaic-looking buckets.
The door opened and Commander Nyder entered. He stopped in the doorway, and looked over the chair, the buckets, and the seven women in surgical masks. Seven.
Where were they all coming from, he asked himself.
"And you are?" he demanded.
"I am Memory Compiler Three. These are Memory Compiler Seven, Medical Technician Eight, Technicians Fourteen, Twenty One and Thirty Three, and Assistant Memory Compiler Two."
"And where are the Laboratory Assistants?"
"Selaa is - dead. Firla is assisting in the medical bay. Thila and Fola are working on the power system." The masked woman who had answered glared at Security Liaison over her mask, but her words were to Nyder. "That door should not have opened."
"Commander Nyder has a Red Hexagon passkey device," said Security Liaison. Her lower lip swelled momentarily in what might have been a pout of defiance.
"We have no chair for the Commander," said Memory Compiler Three; her tone suggested that if he left, this would not be a problem.
"I prefer to stand," he said. It would give him a clearer range of fire if he decided to drop some or all of them. Davros might want a specimen.
Nyder came forward (the standing women all moved back) and looked into one of the buckets; it was full almost to the top with what looked like shiny steel wool, which moved a bit. The wool was pulled out into long streamers that were crimped and sealed into cables, and then attached to the chair. He thought to reach into one bucket, and then stopped himself. That movement looked deliberate.
"And these are?" he asked arrogantly.
"Heads, sir."
"Heads?"
One of the other women stepped forward. "We have infused the heads of the Bunker's attackers with oxygen to prevent deterioration, and then allowed flowmetal grafts to combine themselves with the neural tissue. As a result, these men's memories can be accessed, recorded, and compiled."
"Interrogating the dead," said Nyder, slowly, his eyes a bit too wide. "This technique would have been quite useful to me in the past."
"Of course, sir." She turned and flipped a switch on a junction box between the cables and the chair, and Security Liaison screamed in agony.
Her body convulsed in the chair - from the neck down. Her head was immobile, and one of the other women simply grabbed her jaw and stuffed a gag into her mouth. She clenched the cloth in her mouth and kept screaming - much more quietly of course. Even as she heaved, her forearms and hands were rock-steady on the chair's controls.
"The procedure is painful?" asked Nyder. He looked on at Security Liaison's anguish with a distinct lack of empathy.
"She is re-experiencing his death from his point of view. After she has endured that, she will be able to access his past."
"Can't those memories be bypassed? This seems - inefficient." Nyder knew how these women prized efficiency.
"Why should we bypass them? She killed him, she should feel his death," was the puzzled reply.
"But they can be bypassed."
"Yes, but-"
"Thank you, that's what I wanted to know." If they could be bypassed, this technique would be invaluable. Never again would a prisoner who had accidentally expired during interrogation escape his grasp.
Nyder noticed a ninth bucket that was not yet attached to the chair; it looked the same as the rest, except for the coloured string tied to the handle. Red for Red Hexagon, perhaps, which meant-
"Selaa?" he said, tapping the bucket with his toe.
"Yes, Commander," said Memory Compiler Three, swooping in and picking up the bucket, and holding it to her chest with both arms. "She saved your life with hers."
"And Security Liaison must suffer her death as well? As I recall a bullet killed her, not the disintegration beam."
She hugged the bucket closer to her chest, and looked down into Nyder's eyes. He had almost forgotten that all of the Red Hexagon were taller than him, save for Security Liaison. "She ordered Second Laboratory Assistant to her death. If she had truly gained your trust, she could have found a way to avoid that."
"Trust?" Nyder did not laugh, because he never did. But he felt something strange moving in him for a moment, and crushed it. "I will never trust any of you."
Without replying, the woman turned and flipped the switch on the box; Security Liaison stopped convulsing, and slumped limp in the chair. The damp gag rolled out of her mouth.
"Report, Security Liaison," said the woman.
"His name was Rian 08761100. He was an excellent shot, a fine fighter, and a good Kaled citizen. Councilman Mogran recruited him personally to serve as a Council Chamber guard. He received his orders to bring this to the Bunker within the last three hours. He loved his people. He died for them." The words spilled out in a flat monotone, but the tears trickling out from under the metal blindfold suggested something other than lack of emotion.
"Excellent," was the reply. "Only four more, then. And Second Laboratory Assistant, of course."
Nyder turned a bit, and his elbow sent a pile of folders sliding off one of the file cabinets and around his feet. With a little cry of dismay, Memory Compiler Three put down her bucket and started scooping them up, halting only when Nyder's gloved hand came over her shoulder and picked up a glossy photograph. Nyder stood back up, looking at the picture.
It was taken in a Bunker corridor, and showed himself, Davros and Security Liaison; Davros was apparently briefing them. Each of the figures in the crisp black-and-white photo was overlaid with a strange filament pattern of colours.
Security Liaison was the most startling; her entire outline was fringed in vivid blue and red streaks that converged to a white core somewhere in her chest. Nyder's figure had a similar overlay, but thinner, broken somehow. Fewer lines, and the colours all faded pale yellows or dark purples. Davros was the only one who looked normal, with no colours around him.
"What is this?" asked Nyder.
Memory Compiler Three rose and took the picture, slipping it back into the folder she was reassembling. "It relates to the compilation of personality wheel data. An automated method of capturing certain information." She hesitated, then went on, "Sir, there is an order that Davros has given us that you should know about."
"If it is necessary that I know about it, he will tell me," said Nyder. Inside he was a little piqued that the order had not come through him.
"Davros has ordered us to schedule the implantation of the Bunker Scientific Elite with neural transmission arrays. When we explained that this would result in brain damage, he was unconcerned with this side effect. If the Elite were implanted, those that survived - they would lose their personality, their selfhoods. They would become nothing more than vessels for Davros' will."
"And?" said Nyder.
"And we are also asked to process the Security Elite in this fashion." The woman swallowed. "All of them."
"Not me," said Nyder, a little too quickly.
"All of them," she repeated.
The gag was stuffed back into Security Liaison's mouth; she bit down on it and gave a noise of approval. Another switch was thrown, and she screamed. Nyder watched her agony, and thought his own thoughts.
# # #
"I won't sign that," snapped Councilman Gelc, who had been found hiding in the hydroponics section and unceremoniously dumped in the Council chamber; there was still green nutrient fluid on his fingers. He glared around at the other Council members, and glared more poisonously at the Daughters hovering over them. "You must be mad, if you think any Councilman is going to sign it!"
Without replying, Councilman Mah leaned forward, pulled the large sheet of paper covered with script close to him, and added his name to the bottom with a flourish. Then he pushed it back to the centre of the table, and sat back in his chair.
"I think that this can succeed," he said. "It will succeed, if we put all of our power behind it. Such as that is." He frowned at Gelc as he went on. "And if this is the reaction of Mogran's followers on the Council, of whom you are currently the last, I cannot fault the Thals for presenting their information to Davros and the Elite first."
"It is not a victory!" snarled Gelc. "It leaves the Thals alive to plot against us!"
"But neither is it an unconditional surrender. It leaves the last remnants of the Thals at a fair remove from us," said one of the other Councilmen, adding his signature to the bottom of the paper and passing it to his left. "We can seal the mountain passes between us and them. Disease, famine, environmental conditions - any of these could wipe the Thals out. This gives us time to heal, to rebuild."
"If the matter disintegrator is as powerful as you say," Gelc half-shouted at the nearest Daughter, "why don't you use it to destroy the Thal dome? Win the war tonight!"
"Because the Thals would counter strike, with their new weapon. And if we did strike first, we would leave the majority of the Thal soldiers in the field, with nowhere to retreat to." The Daughter sighed, and shook her head. "I am getting very angry with you, Councilman Gelc, irrationally angry, and I should not. We are giving you a chance to publicly distance yourself from Mogran's suicidal rebellion and join the winning side!"
"I will not sign it," the defiant Councilman hissed through his teeth. "I will not surrender the future of the Kaled race, our assured victory, on the word of a bunch of women! I will not surrender this Council's will to Davros! I would as soon turn that disintegrator beam on the Bunker, kill the lot of the Elite!" Gelc was on the point of frothing at the mouth. "I wish that Mogran had succeeded in killing the lot of you, wiping you out at your source. That City-Buster would have saved us all!"
"It would have destroyed Davros, the Elite, and the disintegrator beam. And the particle fountain." The Daughter leaned on the table, heavily. In a low voice, she said, "I can't do this."
"Can't?" asked one of the other Daughters in the shadows.
She straightened from the table, and blinked tears out of her eyes. "I can't stand this." She reached out and gathered one of the masked Daughters to her side; they stood close as though whispering, heads touching, and then she said, "Second Leader-Apprentice, you are now Seventh Leader. Take over. And give me your armband."
With an alarmed murmur, a red armband was pressed forward; she took it and unrolled it into a long sheer strip of red cloth. She tied it over her hair and eyes, as though blindfolding herself; but her dark eyes could still be seen through the cloth.
"I give up my role," she said clearly. "I am no longer Sixth Leader."
The other Daughters bowed; Gelc and the Councilmen looked on, confused. The Daughter who was apparently Seventh Leader stepped forward.
"Get him over the table," she said, indicating Gelc. And pointing to the blindfolded woman, "Get her an axe."
Gelc fought of course, but he was outnumbered. Mah rose and said to Seventh Leader, "You can't do this!" She whispered something in his ear, and he stepped back.
The blindfolded Daughter returned, carrying not an axe but an entrenching shovel. At the sight of it, Gelc screamed, and kept screaming. His screams echoed off the walls. The guard who had tried to help Harry escape was held thrashing between two gas-masked Daughters. The Councilmen got up and backed away from the table where Gelc was being held face-down. Some argued with Mah, whose soothing words could barely be made out over the screaming. The shovel came up in her hands, edge bright.
And came down.
It buried itself in the table rather than the man's neck, the sharpened edge only a hair from the bridge of Gelc's nose. His eyes crossed staring at it.
"Gelc," snarled the blindfolded woman, "you are no longer Councilman. You are cast out of the Council. You will be assigned to work where you are no longer a threat to the peace, and where you can repent of your poisonous attitudes towards the Kaled people. If you must glory in the pain of others, nourish yourself on this: I have given up my role as Leader because of you."
Gelc was hauled up and out of the Council chamber, and the Daughter followed behind him, her shovel over her shoulder. They passed an older woman, not a Daughter, who walked to the Council chamber and took the chair recently vacated by Gelc.
"I am Dynna, leader of the Womens' Quarters," she said, and glared around at a muffled noise from one of the Councilmen. With weary sarcasm, she went on, "I believe that Councilmen are chosen because they represent a certain portion of the Kaled population? Well, Gelc was head of the Womens' Committee, but I have never seen or heard from him before this day. If any of you gentlemen would like to say that you know more about women than myself, then please raise your voice No?" She leaned forward, pulled the paper to her, and laboriously traced her name at the bottom of it, with the attitude of someone unused to writing. "There."
Mah returned to his seat, and slumped. "We have to trust in Davros. We must have peace, and this is our best chance."
Seventh Leader took up the paper, now signed by all the remaining Councilmen. "Excellent. I will leave you now; you have many things to discuss. May I suggest that the Council's immediate agenda include how we are going to provide for the soldiers who will be returning to the Dome? The particle fountains are being deployed; Section Tyy of the Dome is already radiation-free. The Daughters of Davros stand ready to assist you in all things, of course."
She bowed and withdrew, with the paper. Outside the Council chamber, she handed it to another Daughter and ordered, "Mass duplication, and send the Thal's information to the Bunker."
"Communications are still out, Mogran's men tossed a grenade in the radio room."
"Then send a courier!" She breathed deeply. "This is the end of one thing and the beginning of a thousand more, and it is more dangerous than the War itself. After this night, nothing can ever be the same. We've won!" Seventh Leader looked exalted. "Now let the people know."
# # #
Commander Nyder was talking on the communications box in the corridor to Davros.
"There are Red Hexagon everywhere in the Bunker, there are at least seven in the next room!" he said urgently. "I don't know how they got in here, or what-"
"Perhaps with communications with the Dome temporarily severed, this would be a good time to do some - housecleaning." Davros' voice rang metallically from the speaker. "You will gather what security forces are available. Use the Daleks if necessary. Arrest the Red Hexagon women and confine them on the detention level. Immediately detain Security Liaison, she is not to be physically injured. Keep her safe for me." Keep her organs, her nerves, her limbs and her retinas safe, he meant.
With almost a smile, Nyder unsnapped the flap of his holster. Two of the remaining Security guards came by on patrol; he took them in with him. Using the passkey, he opened the door to the hidden room and came face to face with Security Liaison. And nobody else.
"Search this room," he ordered his men, who separated and started to do so.
"You are to be placed in detention, Davros orders it," Nyder snapped, and Security Liaison nodded her head in assent and then just stood there.
"Nothing," said one of the Security men as they finished their search. "No sign of anyone, Commander."
"We're leaving," and they proceeded to the lift. When the lift door opened, Security Liaison stepped in first, and then turned and graciously gestured, as though inviting the others to accompany her. Only Nyder did, dismissing the two Security men back to their duties. He kept his hand on the butt of his gun, just in case.
He chose one of the empty cells on the detention level, and shoved Security Liaison into it much too hard, hard enough to send her sprawling. Her look over her shoulder as she fell was gravely curious, not alarmed or hurt, as the door closed between them.
# # #
"Selaa!" said Kavell, with a relieved smile. He moved a little too fast to the Red Hexagon woman's side as she walked down the corridor, and she stopped and smiled at him. "I thought you might have been hurt."
"I'm fine - now," she said. "But I have to leave for the Dome in a little while. This is information that should be distributed to the staff. The papers were couriered from the Dome." She handed him a red folder, and then took him by the wrist. "Kavell," she said urgently, "give them to Gharman and the Elite first. Not Davros."
Kavell looked at her, confusion on his face. "That's strictly against regulations. All communications in or out of the Bunker are to go through Davros."
"Look at the first page," she suggested, and he did so. His mouth fell open, and he looked back up at her with an expression of shock and delight. Then he turned and fled.
Selaa watched him go, a smile on her face. Then she touched the corridor wall beside her, and a hidden door opened in it. She slipped inside and the door vanished just in time. A Security squad marched by, but there was no trace of the Red Hexagon woman.
# # #
The Doctor was leading a debate among the Kaled scientists; the lone Security guard by the door was looking more and more nervous, but did not quite dare to raise his gun and order everyone to sit.
'This is your chance," the Time Lord said, in an urgent whisper. "Davros can't stop you, but you can stop Davros! You can wipe out your research, destroy the Daleks! For that matter," he turned to Gharman, "if the particle fountains can remove background radiation, doesn't that mean that Skaro will not be contaminated in the future? That your descendants will not be hopelessly mutated?"
Gharman was mute, his mouth a little open. "Yes!" he finally whispered.
One of the other scientist objected. "But we still need to win the war, Doctor. We need the resources to build and deploy the fountains. We can't just put them out there in the Wastelands, the Thals or the Mutos will destroy them! We need the Daleks to save our people."
"Any chance of convincing the Thals that the particle fountains are in both your interests?" asked the Doctor. "Coming to an agreement on them?"
"Unlikely," said Gharman. "They would think it was a trick, or reverse engineer the fountains to use against us. Turn them into radiation projectors, maybe."
Kavell came into the laboratory, and staggered. Sarah Jane saw him waver, and went to his side, saying. "Are you all right?"
"Yes? Yes, I am. Gharman, I have to talk to him." He blinked almost blindly, then went and pulled Gharman aside by the elbow. Urgently, he said, "This report came from the Dome, you have to read it."
"What, now? No, we have to start redoing our projections of Skaran contamination levels. If we can show Davros proof-"
"Listen to me, Gharman! The Thals have announced that they have a new weapon, a weapon that will end the war. It's a, well I don't quite understand it; they call it a telepathy bomb. They say that it destroys thoughts. Wipes brains clean!"
"What?" said the Doctor, aghast. "That's abominable!"
"But there's more," said Kavell, now holding the attention of all the scientists. "They're created a fungus, a whole series of fungi really, that can absorb toxic chemicals out of the soil and turn them into inert elements! Arsenic, mercury, toxic gas residue, explosives contamination - anything!"
The scientists were excitedly discussing this, and the Security guard finally felt he had to break it up. He came forward and said, "You have to get back to your stations."
"No, you all have to know this now! Everyone has to know. The Kaled Council sent the Thals footage of the matter disintegrator and the particle fountain, and, and!" Kavell was stuttering with excitement.
"That's well and good, Kavell, but we have to get back to work," said Gharman, eyeing the Security guard. "Davros will insist-"
"Oh, prong Davros!" shouted Kavell, instantly capturing the shocked attention of every Kaled in the room. Sarah Jane held back a laugh at their expressions.
Kavell held out a sheet of paper in a trembling hand. "It's an armistice, they're calling it a Solstice Armistice." A pause, while Kavell caught his breath and everyone else gasped out theirs. "A permanent Peace Accord, they're scheduling a formal signing by the government tomorrow. It's peace. It's the end of the war!" And Kavell sobbed aloud, with happiness.
The scientists gathered around Kavell, and he handed around the papers from the folder. The Security guard lowered his weapon and came forward as well, reading eagerly over their shoulders. There was a blur of confused statements from everyone - "There hasn't been a solstice cease-fire in hundreds of years!" "It's really over?" "It can't be true!" "I don't understand."
Sarah Jane gave the Doctor an impulsive one-armed hug. At his lack of response, she asked, "Isn't it what you wanted? If the war is over, the Dalek project will be shut down!" But the Doctor was looking at Gharman, who was reading one of the sheets of paper with a growing look of horror.
Gharman raised his voice to the scientists and said, "Check the computers, and see what data you can extract about this - telepathy bomb. And the Thal fungi. I think you will find more than we expected." As the scientists went back to their stations, still smiling and eagerly talking, the Doctor went to Gharman and asked, "Trouble?"
"According to this document," said Gharman carefully, "the Elite, and Davros, have already reviewed the Thal data, and sent their recommendation to the Council. Davros himself is quoted as saying that this technology is the equal of the particle fountain and the matter disintegrator, and that both sides should negotiate for peace and a mutual sharing of technology for the betterment of both!"
Gharman shook his head. "And Davros would never, ever say that. I know him too well, he hates the enemy too deeply to ever give the slightest ground to them."
"Rather like what you said about the matter disintegrator data appearing in your computer systems unannounced." The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose in thought, and then took the piece of paper from Gharman. Holding it in front of his face, he said, "A mask."
"What?" asked Sarah, confused.
The Doctor lowered the sheet of paper so that only his eyes showed over it. "I think these new technologies, new weapons, are being introduced into your war with a purpose. And that someone is using Davros' name and the Elite's power and prestige like a mask, to disguise themselves and their purpose from the Kaled government."
"If so," said Gharman, "they are not being very subtle about letting us find out what they are doing."
"Yes, which leads to an interesting dilemma - how do they, whoever they are, keep you from revealing that you had no part in their actions? And conversely, how do you prove that you knew nothing of these weapons and technologies, when all the data and paperwork show otherwise?"
As the laboratory's staff went back to work with a strange mix of elation and confusion, one person who had heard Kavell's announcement did not feel any elation at all. In the back of the laboratory, a half-open door had allowed Commander Nyder to hear everything. Now he wished that he had shot Kavell before the scientist had gotten to the laboratory.
But that was no longer an option. Nyder silently slipped away, to report what he had heard to Davros.
"What!" shouted Davros after Nyder's report. Then he sat still for a minute, thinking. Two minutes. The time stretched out, and finally Nyder hissed, "Davros! What are we going to do?"
"You will go to the Dome at once," replied Davros.
"Not the Command Complex?"
"No, I need you to find out where the heart of this conspiracy lies. That answer will be found in the Dome and the Kaled Council. Get in touch with your spies face to face. I suggest interrogating one of the Red Hexagon first-"
"We have only Security Liaison, the rest have vanished."
"Interesting. But I will soon discover what role they played in this plot against me. The Daleks are taking over the Bunker Security functions, so I will be quite safe here."
Commander Nyder stalked down to the detention level, and opened a cell door. Security Liaison stood at attention, as though waiting for him. He entered the cell and glared at her. Without a word, he grabbed her right hand and rolled back the glove, confirming by the bruises left on her skin by Davros' grip that this really was Security Liaison. Then he released her and began to give his orders.
"We have a mysterious announcement from the Kaled government," he said flatly. "Davros orders me to go to the Dome and see what is happening with my own eyes. I believe that the Red Hexagon may know more about this situation than we do. You are going to tell me what you know."
She opened her mouth, but before she could speak he rapped out, "I want a serious, relevant, and above all brief reply, Security Liaison. There is no time for your levity."
"If by mysterious announcement you mean the Peace Accords?" she guessed, and Nyder nodded, while confirming to himself that Security Liaison knew too much about what was going on outside her cell. "In that case, stand-down and recall orders have been issued to all troops in the field. All Dome entrances will be manned and extremely busy. Medical and Supplies will be at maximum levels, to treat and feed the returnees. It is going to be chaotic, dangerous, and remarkably smelly; bathing is not a priority on a battlefield. I would recommend getting to the Administrative level, and then contacting your people from a secure office. You should not plan on being in the Dome past nightfall. And above all, above everything else, you absolutely should not be in Corridor Ki, Section Four, Level Three, in eighty minutes."
"And why is that?" asked Nyder.
She said, "There are going to be, let's call them informal terminations."
Executions, she must mean. "Of whom?"
"Of those who contribute nothing to the Kaled people, who feed on them like parasites, who actively damage society – but have always had the political connections or the guile to be protected. Now is the time to cut these cancers out of the Kaled body, wherever they may be hiding." Security Liaison's voice was cold. "To purge the race of the worst of the worst; the ones beyond saving. Those who are corrupt to the core."
Nyder felt his skin creep, the way it does when someone is talking about you, but you can't quite make out what they are saying. Security Liaison's eyes were locked on his face.
"Why are you telling me this?"
She touched him with just her fingertips and he pulled his arm away, sharply.
"Because you must know, Commander," she said, softly. "And because nobody else will tell you."
"Who are the - condemned?" he asked again.
Security Liaison clasped her hands behind her back and raised her chin. "Their names are Larrit, Refell, Arneti – "
She paused a dreadful beat. "And Nenno. Nenno 12499852, to be exact," she added.
Nyder's face was as impassive as ever, but there was nothing impassive about the way he grabbed her by the elbows and slammed her against the wall. When he moved closer to his captive, his still face cracked and let something awful show through.
"Nenno is dead. I know he is dead. I made sure of it," he whispered. His fingers sank into her upper arms, kneading.
"I am sorry, but Nenno lives. He knows secrets and scandals about everyone in power, and so has been allowed to conceal himself, and feed his loathsome appetites at will. He is - unforgivable, even by our standards. Now he will die. In Corridor Ki, Section Four, Level Three. Starting in seventy-eight minutes."
She leaned her head forward, and whispered, "Would you like to watch?"
"Oh, I think I must insist on it," he said softly, releasing her arms. They stared into each other's eyes, for once completely understanding each other's emotions.
Security Liaison told Nyder, "Wear old issue boots and a rain cloak. It will make it easier for you to blend in at the Dome, with all the returning soldiers. It might not be safe for you to be identified. Some of the soldiers are - erratic."
"Am I the reason that Nenno is to die?" he asked, wondering if this was an attempt to curry favour with him.
"Not you alone, Commander. Nenno was cruel to children, even as a child. His tastes have not grown kinder with age. It will not be tolerated. And – if you missed the chance to see him die, I knew that you never forgive me."
"Thank you for your information, Security Liaison." Nyder straightened himself, brushed an invisible bit of lint from one sleeve with stiff fingers, then turned and left. Security Liaison promptly stepped on top of her bunk, ran her thumb along the edge of the moulding of the ceiling, and extracted a length of wire. Touching it to one of the implants in her skull, she sat, her eyes darting fast behind her closed lids.
