Read Online Doctor Who: Prisoner of the Daleks by Trevor Baxendale - Free Book Online Page B

tilted his head, frowning. 'Why upside down?'
     
'The loader's gravity field cancels out the Dalek's elevation units,' explained Scrum. He was moving around the Dalek, examining the neck and shoulder sections carefully. 'I've rigged a high-frequency radio-wave jamming field too, which should counteract the motive unit.'
     
The Doctor nodded, impressed. 'Yeah, that might work. I've done that a couple of times myself. It'll interfere with the guidance systems at least, and maybe the motive unit. But it won't last for ever. You'll get ten seconds, tops, before it finds a way to cancel the jamming field.'
     
'That's all we'll need.'
     
'You know this is wrong, don't you?' the Doctor asked. He picked up a couple of tools from a nearby table, checked them over, tossed them back down. 'Wrong, wrong, wrong. Wrong in so many ways.'
     
Cuttin' Edge looked scornful. 'We know what we're doin'.'
     
'And one of the many ways in which it is wrong,' continued the Doctor, 'is the way in which it is insanely, obviously and ludicrously dangerous .'
     
'Hey, we're Dalek hunters, dude. We do this for a livin'. Scrum's got everything covered.'
     
Scrum cleared his throat. 'Actually, I was rather hoping you would help, Doctor.'
     
'Not a chance.'
     
'You may not agree with what we're trying to do, but you must want to make sure the Dalek is truly defenceless.'
     
'No Dalek is ever truly defenceless.' The Doctor sighed. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. Sucked in his cheeks. Blew out a long breath between his teeth and scratched the back of his neck. 'Oh, all right. But not because I approve of what you're doing. I just don't fancy my central nervous system being fried from the outside in – or watching yours being fried, for that matter.'
     
'We've immobilised the Dalek and secured the arm. It's effectively blind but—'
     
'Watch that sucker,' warned the Doctor, pulling Scrum away from the Dalek's reach. 'I've seen those things crush bricks like that .' He closed his fingers into a sudden fist.
     
'Uh, thanks. Well, as I said – the Dalek is effectively blind...'
     
'Vision impaired,' muttered the Doctor. 'That's how they like to put it. But don't forget it's got sensor systems all over its body.'
     
'It's the gun I'm worried about.'
     
'Yeah, you really want that out of action.' The Doctor slipped his glasses on and examined the weapon housing. 'Best thing is to remove it completely.'
     
'Is that possible?'
     
'While it's still thawing out we can try.'
     
The Doctor pulled a small set of steps over so that he could see the gun platform more easily. He took out his sonic screwdriver. 'There are four galvanised trintillium bolts securing the armour plate here around the ball-and-socket joint. See? We've got to get those out before we can see what's what.'
     
Scrum's eyes widened. 'Can you do that?'
     
'Let's give it a go,' answered the Doctor, clicking open the screwdriver.
     
Bowman kept an old bottle of Draconian branka in his cabin. He unscrewed the lid and sloshed some into a plastic cup. He stared at it for a second and then swallowed it down in one. The fire spread through his throat and stomach and he closed his eyes to appreciate the flavour. Then he grimaced.
     
'Yuck. Never did like that stuff.'
     
'Yet you still drink it?' Koral stepped into the pool of light that came from the captain's desk lamp.
     
'Sometimes.' Bowman placed the cup on the desk.
     
'Why?'
     
'It's tradition. Times like these, you need courage.'
     
'It gives you courage?'
     
'No. It just makes you think you have it. Drink enough and you think you've got all the courage in the world.'
     
'And what if you drink too much?'
     
'Then it doesn't really matter what you think.'
     
Koral sat on the edge of the desk. 'And what about the Doctor? What do you think of him?'
     
'Isn't it obvious? He's a jumped up little nerd who thinks he knows a bit about the Daleks.'
     
'Perhaps he does.'
     
Bowman regarded her carefully. 'You reckon?'
     
'He's