Read Online Doctor Who: Keeping Up With the Joneses by Nick Harkaway - Free Book Online
Authors: Nick Harkaway
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absolute than it might be, less stable. In the originating universe, that had been a flaw which might leave Son 11-21 vulnerable to assault from within its own trap, so it had fortified itself. But now, here, that same flaw could become a doorway. The trapdoor universe might open not out into the timelocked region, but back into normal space.
Son 11-21 reached, tore, and fell.
The passage was appalling. It was not how reentry should be. It was violent and corrosive. Son 11-21 was compromised, scrambled, damaged. Its ability to create such passages was burned away. It huddled in space, trying to repair itself, and mostly failing. Processors were vaporised, great parts of its mind simply turned to gas and ash. Its consciousness fragmented, had to be loaded into discrete systems to maintain some form of rational thought. It tried to repair itself, but much information was gone and simply could not be retrieved. Amongst which: Son 11-21 no longer knew which side of the war it had been on.
And then the TARDIS came.
The damaged mind within Son 11-21 found that it was in a dispute with other aspects of itself. It argued for patience, for repair, but the self in the weapons system was now hardwired for destruction and was prepared to accept allied casualties in the hope of punishing an escaped enemy. The war had been like that, towards the end.
It couldn’t destroy the TARDIS outright, couldn’t take it out of the universe and hold it. But it could do other things which would work as well, in the end. It struck, pushing at the TARDIS’s own temporal dislocations, unbalancing them, sucking and undermining and buffeting, forcing time to flow differently in and around the vessel, stressing the fabric of it, draining its energy. It was a new method of attack, untested and uncertain, but it was what was available and it was working, if slowly.
In desperation, the mind of Son 11-21 opened a doorway onto the TARDIS and stepped through, only to drag the feral entity from the weapons system along with it. Son 11-21 struggled with his twin as they rampaged through Jonestown, shattering and smashing, but it was only when the electrophysical presence they inhabited was briefly disrupted with jets of water that he was able to seize control of their shared body and force the feral self temporarily away.
*
Heidt spread his hands. ‘And here we are.’
‘Son 11-21?’
Heidt nodded. ‘Yes. Or maybe that honour belongs to the monster, and I’m the aberration.’ He paused. ‘Do you happen to know, Doctor, which side I was on?’
‘No. And there’s a fifty per cent chance I wouldn’t tell you if I did. All right, what do you want? Can you stop this?’
‘Yes. If you repair the mine, I can take control and stop the attack.’
‘Give you the keys to the kingdom. The launch codes.’
‘Yes.’
Christina raised one hand as if she was at school. ‘Or, alternatively, that might all be so much rubbish and you just need a hand to reset your zap gun and when we do it we die and you win.’
‘That is possible.’
‘You couldn’t just tell us how to beat your monster? Or escape?’
‘I am precluded from sabotaging my own mission. But I can engage in temporary alliances to restore my own full function. And once I’m back in control, I have discretion over whether to execute my purpose at any given time. You see?’
‘We can’t trust you.’
Heidt nodded. ‘You might look at it that way. Certainly I would, in your position.’
‘Right,’ she said.
‘But he wouldn’t,’ Heidt added, pointing to the Doctor.
Since the Doctor didn’t argue, she supposed he wouldn’t, although in her honest assessment his optimism was symmetrical with a somewhat justifiable level of lethal paranoia. Although if he were a little less determined to be gentle with the universe’s horrors, she thought, he probably wouldn’t have to do appalling things quite so often.
‘Well, fine,’ she said. ‘We’ll go back to Jonestown and think
Son 11-21 reached, tore, and fell.
The passage was appalling. It was not how reentry should be. It was violent and corrosive. Son 11-21 was compromised, scrambled, damaged. Its ability to create such passages was burned away. It huddled in space, trying to repair itself, and mostly failing. Processors were vaporised, great parts of its mind simply turned to gas and ash. Its consciousness fragmented, had to be loaded into discrete systems to maintain some form of rational thought. It tried to repair itself, but much information was gone and simply could not be retrieved. Amongst which: Son 11-21 no longer knew which side of the war it had been on.
And then the TARDIS came.
The damaged mind within Son 11-21 found that it was in a dispute with other aspects of itself. It argued for patience, for repair, but the self in the weapons system was now hardwired for destruction and was prepared to accept allied casualties in the hope of punishing an escaped enemy. The war had been like that, towards the end.
It couldn’t destroy the TARDIS outright, couldn’t take it out of the universe and hold it. But it could do other things which would work as well, in the end. It struck, pushing at the TARDIS’s own temporal dislocations, unbalancing them, sucking and undermining and buffeting, forcing time to flow differently in and around the vessel, stressing the fabric of it, draining its energy. It was a new method of attack, untested and uncertain, but it was what was available and it was working, if slowly.
In desperation, the mind of Son 11-21 opened a doorway onto the TARDIS and stepped through, only to drag the feral entity from the weapons system along with it. Son 11-21 struggled with his twin as they rampaged through Jonestown, shattering and smashing, but it was only when the electrophysical presence they inhabited was briefly disrupted with jets of water that he was able to seize control of their shared body and force the feral self temporarily away.
*
Heidt spread his hands. ‘And here we are.’
‘Son 11-21?’
Heidt nodded. ‘Yes. Or maybe that honour belongs to the monster, and I’m the aberration.’ He paused. ‘Do you happen to know, Doctor, which side I was on?’
‘No. And there’s a fifty per cent chance I wouldn’t tell you if I did. All right, what do you want? Can you stop this?’
‘Yes. If you repair the mine, I can take control and stop the attack.’
‘Give you the keys to the kingdom. The launch codes.’
‘Yes.’
Christina raised one hand as if she was at school. ‘Or, alternatively, that might all be so much rubbish and you just need a hand to reset your zap gun and when we do it we die and you win.’
‘That is possible.’
‘You couldn’t just tell us how to beat your monster? Or escape?’
‘I am precluded from sabotaging my own mission. But I can engage in temporary alliances to restore my own full function. And once I’m back in control, I have discretion over whether to execute my purpose at any given time. You see?’
‘We can’t trust you.’
Heidt nodded. ‘You might look at it that way. Certainly I would, in your position.’
‘Right,’ she said.
‘But he wouldn’t,’ Heidt added, pointing to the Doctor.
Since the Doctor didn’t argue, she supposed he wouldn’t, although in her honest assessment his optimism was symmetrical with a somewhat justifiable level of lethal paranoia. Although if he were a little less determined to be gentle with the universe’s horrors, she thought, he probably wouldn’t have to do appalling things quite so often.
‘Well, fine,’ she said. ‘We’ll go back to Jonestown and think
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