Born to Raise the Sons of Earth
Born to Give Them Second Birth
Ssord, the Ice Lord's axe-wielding lieutenant, handed a communicator pad to his master. Ixyldir studied its compact display.
'Does he have an axe because his name is Ssord?'
the Doctor asked, sitting in the high-backed chair with his chin in his hand. 'I'm just saying, it might get confusing if Ssord had a sword. Is that why you gave him an axe?'
Ixyldir tilted his head to regard the Doctor. 'For a mammal that is about to be put down, you are remarkably talkative,' he said.
'Oh, but that's precisely why!' the Doctor enthused, jumping to his feet.
The Ice Warriors around him tensed slightly, thinking he was about to attack their clan lord. Ixyldir briskly raised an armoured hand to call them off.
'You intend to kill me anyway, so I don't believe it really matters what I say,' said the Doctor. 'It's a very liberating feeling, in fact. I could insult you to your face, couldn't I, lizard-lips? It's not going to make a lot of difference. I mean, it's not going to make things worse. Death is death.'
'There are things worse than death,' said the Ice Lord.
'Really? Name one.'
'Dishonour.'
The Doctor threw back his head and laughed.
'I knew you were going to say that,' he chuckled. 'I love it when Ice Warriors talk about honour and dishonour. It's all so terribly serious and profound. My old buddy Warlord Azylax was forever banging on about it, all the time. I would just roll my eyes. You Ice Warriors can be so pompous on the subject.'
'There is no Warlord Azylax,' said Ixyldir.
'No, unlucky for me,' the Doctor agreed. He sighed.
'No, there isn't. At least, there isn't going to be for about another 9,000 years. I realise that now. I got my Galactic Migration Eras mixed up. I didn't know if I was coming or going. Or if you were coming or going.
Anyway, my timing's bad, and that sucks for me, because there isn't a single Ice Warrior on this world or any other who can vouch for my credentials.' He looked squarely at Ixyldir. 'But you will, by the time we're done here,' he said, and winked. 'I promise. You will have acquired respect for me. As a friend, or as a foe. Which one of those it turns out to be depends entirely on you, Lord Ixyldir of the Tanssor clan.'
'By the time we are done here,' replied the Ice Lord,
'this world will be an ice-locked haven, and you will be a headless corpse rotting in one of the vile meat vats in this facility. You do not impress me, or scare me, cold blue star.'
'Then let's talk about dishonour some more,'
suggested the Doctor. 'I mean, it is such a popular topic with your kind. You take it so seriously, yet it is so malleable to you.'
'Malleable?' echoed Ixyldir.
'It means pliable or easy to reshape.'
'I know what it means.'
The Doctor looked at the other Ice Warriors.
'Honour is a code you live by... until it becomes inconvenient,' he said.
Ssord raised his axe.
'Stop!' the Ice Lord ordered.
'You see?' said the Doctor. 'Your man here was going to chop down an unarmed prisoner, just because that unarmed prisoner happened to say something he didn't like. How is that the action of an honour-bound warrior?'
'We are principled,' said Ixyldir. 'We are also pragmatic.'
'Yes, you are,' the Doctor agreed. 'But isn't it about time you started to balance those aspects of your culture? You're searching for a new home because Mars has gone.'
'Our home world, along with all the planets in our solar system, has been rendered uninhabitable by the maturing expansion phase of our star.'
'The Morphans of Earth are in the same boat, so to speak,' said the Doctor. ' And they got here first. And this world is more like their home world than yours.'
'It is still generally compatible with our needs,' said the Ice Lord.
'So you're just going to take their planet from them and wipe them out? How is that honourable?'
Ixyldir growled something, a hint of anger under the surface. 'Our primary requirement is the establishment of a new home world for our clan so that we may begin rebuilding our civilisation,' he said. 'We have no particular issue with the human refugees. No malice. It is simply a competition for resources.'
'Tell them that,' said the Doctor. 'You're killing them.'
'At the moment,' replied Ixyldir, 'it appears to be a two-way process.' He showed the display of the communicator pad to the Doctor.
The Doctor leaned forward, frowning deeply as he made sense of the data he was being shown. 'You deployed one of your ships into a low atmospheric holding position. You're... firing at surface targets.
Ixyldir, you've committed forces to an open ground offensive!'
'And why might I have done that, cold blue star?'
The Doctor blinked. 'I don't... Wait, how can that be? You're fighting something. You're fighting something that's fighting back!'
'Your emotional nuance is interesting,' said Ixyldir.
'I am no expert in mammalian microexpression, but your surprise seems quite genuine. I imagine, however, that this is because you are a trained spy and infiltration agent. I offer you one last opportunity to cease your constant disinformation. I agree to make your death rapid and painless. Tell me the location of your ship.'
'My ship?'
'Where is it concealed? How many more military operatives are you carrying aboard it?'
'Wait,' said the Doctor. 'Wait, wait, wait, wait, waitaminute!' He started to pace, disconcerted. 'You said you were maintaining a watch on the planet.
You've been monitoring the human population on Hereafter since you arrived ten years ago?'
'Yes.'
'Logging them all individually by their heatprints?'
'Yes.'
'Roughly speaking, in that time, what has the population of Hereafter been, Lord Ixyldir?'
Ixyldir paused, considering the pros and cons of tendering the information. Finally, he answered:
'Combined, the three human settlements represents a global population of around 19,000.'
It was the Doctor's turn to pause. His mind was racing. 'But just recently,' he continued, 'the nature of the struggle has changed? It's forced you out into the open?'
'Yes.'
'You've detected new arrivals, like me and my friends?' asked the Doctor.
'Yes,' growled Ixyldir, growing impatient.
'And you distinguish between the pre-existing population and the new arrivals by heatprints?'
'Heatprints do not lie,' said the Ice Lord.
The Doctor sighed. 'Bear with me for one moment more, Lord Ixyldir,' he said. 'We're about to have a really crucial exchange of information. Everything that happens from now may hinge upon it. I'll start by telling you something, in the spirit of a free and frank debate. I arrived here, in my ship, with two companions. That's it. A total of three new arrivals. We got here yesterday.'
Ixyldir turned his head slowly and looked at Ssord.
Then he looked back at the Doctor.
'Lord Ixyldir,' said the Doctor. 'According to your scans, how many new heatprints have appeared in addition to the existing human population here?'
The Ice Lord permitted himself a glacial pause before replying. 'One hundred and fifty,' he replied.
'Down here!' Amy yelled.
She was leading the way, her duffel coat flying out behind her. Samewell and Arabel were running to keep up.
'They're coming after us, Amy!' Bel cried.
Amy looked back. Thirty-five metres behind them, two Ice Warriors had appeared on a gantry platform and were following the three humans onto the grilled shipskin bridge that arched across a vast turbine chamber. In the past five minutes, Amy and her companions had been chased through four large compartments just like it. Each time they had emerged onto a platform or bridge at a different level. Each time, they believed, briefly, that they might have finally shaken off their pursuers.
But each time, the Ice Warriors had appeared, relentlessly searching and hounding.
The bridge they were currently crossing spanned a large chamber at a particularly high level. Several other walkways criss-crossed the chamber at different levels below them. Far below the bridges, at the bottom of the yawning drop, there was a huge cavity that looked like the bowl of an active volcano. Molten fire seethed and roiled down there, an abyssal well of flames. They could feel the heat rising through the space of the compartment. High overhead, unfurled like sails, titanic thermal vents were arranged to conduct and direct the heat.
'We can't run for ever!' Samewell yelled.
'Watch me!' Amy cried.
Arabel let out a shriek of despair. 'Look!' she yelled.
Amy skidded to a halt. They were about halfway across the long, railed walkway. Three more Ice Warriors had just appeared at the other end of the span.
Ice Warriors were closing in from both sides.
They were trapped in the middle of the bridge.
There was nowhere to go.
'What do we do?' asked Samewell.
'We surrender, don't we?' Arabel said.
'No!' said Amy firmly. 'They won't take us alive.'
She looked around. She looked up. She grabbed the guard rail, leaned out, and looked down. 'We jump,' she decided.
'Are you mad?' asked Samewell.
'To kill ourselves so they can't capture us?' asked Arabel.
'No!' replied Amy. 'What do you take me for? I'm not going to stupid well kill myself! We jump down onto that!'
She pointed.
The closest of the bridge spans beneath them was only a few metres below. They were almost directly above the point where two bridges intersected.
'We'd never make it!' objected Arabel. 'We'll jump and miss!'
'We won't miss!' replied Amy. She started to hoist herself up over the rail.
'It's too far!' Samewell cried.
Amy got her heels on the edge of the walkway, holding the handrail against the small of her back. She stared down. It did look far too far. It looked ridiculously too far. It was like jumping off a tightrope and hoping to land on another tightrope.
'We can do it!' she insisted.
She looked at them. Arabel and Samewell were clutching each other and staring at her in dread.
'Come on!' Amy yelled. 'Look how close they're getting!'
Bel and Samewell looked around. The two Ice Warriors behind them were approaching rapidly. The three coming the other way weren't so close, but there wasn't a lot in it.
'Any better ideas?' Amy yelled. 'No? Then come on!
Now!'
Uttering moans of reluctance and fear, the two Morphans scrambled over the rail next to her.
'It is so high, I fear I shall faint,' said Bel.
'Try your best not to,' said Amy. 'OK. OK. I'll go first. I'll show you how it's done. OK.'
Perched, they looked at her.
'OK, I'm going,' said Amy. Her hands didn't seem to want to let the handrail go. It really was a very, very long way down. What had she been thinking? She couldn't make that. It was crazy. It was crazy, crazy talk. Even if she did jump, and didn't miss the bridge, she'd break a leg, or a neck, or something else that she was fairly unwilling to damage.
'A-Amy?' Bel said. Her voice was trembling. 'Amy, are we going to do this?'
'Yes. We are. Hang on. OK. OK, I'm... OK. Ready?
I'm ready. OK. Here we go.' Amy swallowed hard.
'Actually,' she said, 'I think it might be a bit too far after all.'
She looked around at Bel and Samewell, in time to see an Ice Warrior reaching a huge, green pincer-hand out to grab them.
'Geronimo!' she yelled.
And jumped.
'Rory?' Vesta asked. 'Rory, what are you doing?'
Rory didn't reply immediately. He was moving around the assembly hall, shifting benches and knocking on wooden wall panels.
'Not green?' he asked. 'The thing you saw? In the woods? "It"? It wasn't big and green?'
'It was a monster,' Vesta said. 'A big monster with claws and red eyes, but it was nothing at all like the green thing you described.'
Rory tapped his way along a panelled wall, listening.
'It's fair to say,' he said, 'that I haven't been entirely up to speed on this situation since I arrived. But now I really don't know what's going on. I mean, I don't have a clue. Is it possible that we're in the middle of some sort of war that we didn't previously know about?'
'I don't know, Rory,' said Vesta. Every flash and boom from outside made her jump and look towards the windows. The night sky was underlit orange with flame from burning woods. The noises of battle were getting closer.
'What are you doing?' she asked again.
'I'm looking for...' Rory began. He dropped his hands and stood back from the beam he'd been examining. He shook his head. 'I don't know what I'm looking for,' he said. 'The Doctor turned this room into some kind of communications station. A receiver. I just thought that... if he could turn it on from his end, I should be able to do the same here. There should be controls, hidden somewhere, I suppose. Perhaps boarded up or panelled over because the Morphans didn't know what they were for. I thought I might be able to find them.'
Vesta shrugged. 'Guide only knows,' she said. She cleared her throat. 'Rory,' she said. 'I think that I want to go and hide in the barns with the others. I think that's the safest place.'
He looked at her. 'Yes, that makes sense,' he said.
'You should do that. Do you want me to take you there?'
'No, I can find my way. Will you be all right?'
'Yes, I...' Rory's voice trailed off. He looked at her with such intent, she laughed and shook her head in confusion.
'What?' she asked.
'I said I was looking for the controls, and you said...?'
'I don't know, Rory!' she said.
'You said, "Guide only knows.'" He grinned. 'I'm not thinking straight. I wanted to try and get this place running, so that once I had got the Guide, I had a way of sending it to the Doctor. But I can kill two birds with one stone. Your Guide Emanual will tell me how to operate this station. It stands to reason.'
He turned and walked towards the rear doors of the assembly hall. Vesta ran after him, her skirts gathered up.
'Are you really going in?' she asked. 'Into the Incrypt?'
'Yes,' he replied.
'Even though you are not one of the Beside council, and permission was expressly denied to you?'
Still walking, Rory gestured towards the hall windows and the rumbling flash of the onslaught.
'Hello?' he said. 'Bigger picture?'
'But—' she began.
'Vesta, I think that the solution to all the many and troubling problems plaguing us right now are in that room. The Doctor thinks so too. So I'd better get on and find them, because the alternative isn't really very pretty.'
Rory reached the double doors. Old Winnowner, the keeper of the key, had padlocked them shut. He started to rattle and push at them, but they were very solidly made and securely fastened.
He put his shoulder against them, and rammed.
'Ow,' he said, rubbing his shoulder. 'That's not going to work. I need something else. An axe, or a crowbar.'
He turned from the doors and found himself nose to nose with the business end of Jack Duggat's hoe.
'Whoa!' he said, recoiling.
'You was trying to break into the Incrypt,' said Jack, holding the farming implement like a rifle with a fixed bayonet.
'It's really important I get in there,' said Rory.
'It really is, Jack!' Vesta agreed.
'It is Cat A vital you do not,' replied Jack emphatically. 'Look what I found!' he called out over his shoulder. 'Just as you feared.'
Old Winnowner came in through the main doors of the hall behind him. She was out of breath from hurrying through the snow. 'I see,' she said.
'Good thing you sent me here direct,' said Jack, not relaxing his grip on the hoe.
'Vesta Flurrish, I'm surprised at you,' said Old Winnowner as she hobbled over to them. 'Betraying everything we've worked for.'
'Give him the key and let him within, Winnowner Cropper,' said Vesta firmly. 'Can you not see he's a friend?'
'I have no proof of that,' Old Winnowner replied.
'Then can you not see what is happening outside?'
asked Vesta. 'Fire from out of the sky! Falling stars!
The world's end! A ruin and disaster the like of which we have not even imagined! Will you just watch it happen or will you try to stop it?'
'It is being stopped,' said the old woman. 'That is all there is to it. It is in Guide's hands. Now, Jack, bring them. We'll take them to the barn with us.'
'I'm not going anywhere!' cried Rory.
'Really?' asked Jack.
Rory backed off. 'Put like that, and with such a large hoe involved in your answer, perhaps I am,' he agreed.
Jack and the old woman marched them out of the assembly. The cold clear night outside was bright orange from the flames. The ship, still hovering, was continuing its merciless prosecution of ground targets in the hills. They could smell smoke from the burning trees.
In the town yard, the snow was trampled. The fires were casting long, twisting shadows across the broken snow. The sounds of battle were closer. It appeared that some of the town's outbuildings down by the heathouses were now on fire.
'Quickly, get them to the barns,' Winnowner said.
'I think you're placing excessive faith in the protective properties of agricultural storage,' said Rory.
Vesta yelped.
On the far side of the town yard, two Ice Warriors had appeared. Both were brandishing swords. Ignoring the four humans outside the assembly hall, they strode across the yard as though they were pursuing an unseen adversary through the lanes of the houses opposite. They disappeared from view behind the granary.
'Oh, Guide!' said Vesta. 'Were they those things?'
'Ice Warriors,' said Rory. He could see the fear on the faces of the Morphans. Even Winnowner's resolve had been checked by a glimpse of the towering aliens.
'Are you going to start believing me?' Rory asked.
Winnowner didn't answer. There was a sudden and terrible mauling sound from the direction of the granary. It was the noise of bodies slamming into wooden wall boards, of timber splintering, of armour denting.
'Get them back inside, Jack,' said Winnowner.
'Hurry now.'
Before they could turn, something appeared on the roof of the granary. It had leapt up there in a bound, like a big cat. It prowled down the thick slump of snow on the building's roof, moving on all fours, and then sprang down into the yard and started to come directly towards them with a lithe, loping stride.
Its eyes flashed red in the firelight.
Rory, Vesta, Winnowner and Jack all backed away until they felt the assembly doors behind them.
'Oh, Guide! Oh, Guide!' Vesta babbled, stricken with fear. 'That's it. That's what I saw in the woods.
That's It!'
Amy landed, on her feet, in the middle of the bridge walkway. She made a resounding clang that shivered the metal work of the entire structure. Slowly, she opened her eyes, waiting to see if there were any clues like, for example, excruciating pain, that could tell her if she'd broken anything significant or killed herself.
She seemed to be intact.
'Oh my god, it worked,' she marvelled.
Another loud clang shook the bridge and almost knocked her off her feet. Samewell had landed beside her. His landing wasn't quite as clean as Amy's. He went sprawling as he hit, and nearly rolled off the walkway under the lowest bar of the guard rail. Amy squeaked and grabbed him, dragging him back.
'Don't fall! Don't fall! Don't fall!' she yelled.
'Am I safe? Have I landed?' Samewell asked, entirely flummoxed by the whole experience.
Amy looked up in time to see Bel falling towards them. Her long skirts billowed out as she dropped, almost like a parachute canopy.
Arabel missed the walkway. She had jumped a little too short.
Amy cried out in horror as Bel bounced off the outside of the guard rail and went over backwards, plunging away into the fiery depths.
She stopped falling with a violent lurch. Her skirts had caught up on the rail. Bel was hanging upside down off the side of the bridge by her winter skirts, her arms thrashing.
'Grab her! Pull her up!' Amy shouted. She and Samewell rushed to the rail and leant over, each of them reaching down with both hands trying to snatch and grasp at Arabel's inverted form.
There was a long, slow and ominous sound of cloth tearing.
'Arabel Flurrish!' Samewell yelled. 'If you fall and die, I'll kill you!'
'Grab my hand!' Amy shrieked. 'Bel, grab my hand!'
Arabel's skirts tore. Unhooked from the brief suspension of the guard rail, she fell.
Amy and Samewell both grunted out air as they took her weight, straining to hold on. Samewell had both his hands wrapped around Bel's right hand. Amy had one hand locked around Bel's left. Arabel was hanging by her arms the right way up.
But Samewell and Amy were leaning out so far, Bel was in danger of pulling them both over the rail.
'Get her up!' Amy bellowed.
'I- can't!' Samewell gasped.
'Get her up now! Now! Before we all go over!' Amy told him, snorting with effort. 'On three! One... two...
three!'
They hauled.
Bel came up in a rush, and all three of them tumbled backwards over the guard rail and ended up piled on the walkway in an untidy heap.
'I am not doing that again,' said Bel.
Amy got up. The thwarted Ice Warriors were glaring down at them from the bridge above.
'Come on!' she urged the two young Morphans. 'Get up and get going!'
Samewell helped Bel to her feet, and they both followed Amy along the span towards the exit hatch.
The metal walkway rang under their feet.
Suddenly, it did more than ring. It shook as though the bridge had been hit by a wrecking ball. The violent shiver made all three of them stumble.
Amy looked back.
An Ice Warrior was slowly getting up out of a crouched position on the walkway behind them. It had jumped from the walkway overhead, and landed roughly where they had landed.
There was something completely terrifying about the giant green thing's unexpected display of agility.
It rose to its full height, and reached its right fist up to its left shoulder to grasp the hilt of the sword secured across its broad back. It drew the sword, raised it, and started to pursue them all over again.
'You know that thing I keep saying?' Amy yelped.
'What, run, you mean?' asked Bel.
'Yeah,' said Amy. 'Can we just save me some time and take it as read from now on?'
A second Ice Warrior plunged like a boulder from the bridge above. It landed behind the first, missing the main platform, but impacting, as Arabel had done, against the guard rail. Pincer clamps snapped shut around the rail to prevent it from toppling backwards into the drop. The metal railing was buckled and twisted by its collision.
Slowly, clumsily, it clambered over the bent guard rail and onto the bridge. There, it unfastened the battleaxe anchored across its back, and set off after the first.
Amy was just a short distance from the safety of the hatch. She reached out her hand so she could touch the palm-checker plate as soon as she arrived and open the door. If they could get through and close the hatch again, the Ice Warriors would have to stop to drill the lock out, and that would buy them a little more time.
The hatch began to open. She hadn't touched the plate. Something on the other side had activated the lock system.
Amy slid to a stop, and Bel and Samewell cannoned into her from behind. All Amy could think was the Ice Warriors had somehow learned how to work the locks.
Something came through the hatch and out onto the bridge facing them.
It wasn't an Ice Warrior.
The three of them screamed anyway.
'Do you know what I'm going to do?' the Doctor asked Ixyldir. 'I can't believe I'm saying this, but do you know what I'm going to do?'
'What?' asked the Ice Lord.
'I'm going to help you,' the Doctor replied.
'Help me?'
'Help you all. There's a level to this situation that neither of us really anticipated.'
'I do not believe you can be trusted,' Ixyldir replied.
The Doctor shook his head, and snatched the communicator pad out of the Ice Lord's grip. Ssord and two other Ice Warriors reacted to stop him, but the Doctor did a little duck and weave to avoid them as if they were the least of his worries. He was busy examining the pad's display.
'You're taking a pasting, Ixyldir,' he said, reading data. 'Your slow, cold war has turned into a fast, hot one. This is not what you were expecting at all, is it?'
He looked at the Ice Lord.
'Is it?' he repeated. 'I'm not saying that you're not prepared to fight. You're Ice Warriors, for goodness sake. But this isn't the scenario you were expecting when you began your offensive ten years ago. Is it?'
'No,' said the Ice Lord.
'Escalation,' said the Doctor. 'You said it yourself. I can help you, but only if you start cooperating with me quickly. I mean very quickly. We don't even have to trust each other completely, but if we don't get this situation under control, there are going to be an awful lot of deaths. Morphan, Ice Warrior. Unnecessary deaths. This world laid waste, possibly to the point where it is of no use to either colonial effort. Come on, Lord Ixyldir of the Tanssor clan! Be smart!'
The Ice Lord seemed to take an eternity to reply.
'What form would this cooperation take?' he asked.
The Ice Warriors behind him swung their heavy heads to glance at one another.
The Doctor grinned.
'That's the spirit, Ix! That's the spirit! You're starting to thaw, pardon the pun! This could be the start of a beautiful friendship, Ix! Can I call you Ix?'
'Most certainly not.'
'Well work on that, then. Here's what I need first.
We have to find another facility like this, this telepresence communication centre.' The Doctor gestured to the chamber they were standing in. 'Ssord's handy axe-work rather ripped the stuffing out of the systems here,' he said. 'I could fix it, but it would frankly take more time than we have at our disposal.
There must be another. You've been working your way through this complex for years, cutting open doors.
You must have found another one or two by now.
Preferably, a more significant control room than this.
This is just a secondary station. Do you know of any primary command and control rooms?'
Lord Ixyldir looked at Ssord.
'Level sssix,' the Ice Warrior hissed.
'Let's go!' the Doctor cried. 'Lead the way, Ssord.
Lord Ixyldir, we'll walk and talk.'
Ssord led the way out of the chamber. The other Ice Warriors fell in around the Doctor and Lord Ixyldir as an honour guard escort.
'Walk as fast as you can!' the Doctor urged. He looked at Ixyldir. 'I need to know the details of your operation,' he said. 'It's vital. On several other occasions, I've known your people to instigate terraforming processes on target worlds. You're pretty good at it.'
'When our migration fleet entered this quadrant, this planet revealed itself to be the most likely candidate for adjustment,' replied the Ice Lord. 'Long-range observation confirmed it met the majority of our colonisation criteria. We resolved to achieve orbit, to commence climate engineering, and then wait for the process to be completed by entering hibernation on our ships.'
'Were you planning to use seed technology to bring about climate alterations?' asked the Doctor.
'You are familiar with the technique?' asked Ixyldir, surprised.
'I've stopped it more than once, actually,' the Doctor said. 'It's very efficient, though. The destabilisation of carbon dioxide levels is often all it takes to induce a global arctic phase on an M-class world.'
They left the gloom of the tunnels and followed a broad, railed walkway around the edge of a plunging turbine cavern.
'Once we were in orbit,' said the Ice Lord, 'we realised that a human colony was already established on the candidate planet. It had been here for some time and, though comparatively small, it had constructed terraforming processors of significant size and effect.
This process had been under way for several generations, and was already beginning to induce change.'
'So you thought, "Why bother setting up our own terraforming programme to work in opposition? Why not just repurpose the one that's already there?'"
'This was deemed to be the most viable option.'
The Doctor shook his head sadly. 'This is where you and I will be forced to disagree, Lord Ixyldir. That was a pretty underhand gambit. You decide to steal a planet out from under these settlers, you coopt their terraformers to do the hard work for you, and you essentially consign them to a generation or two of long, slow, bitter extinction. You signed their death warrants, Lord Ixyldir, but you let the snow and ice do the actual killing for you. You didn't have enough respect for your adversary to pull the trigger yourself.
Dirty pool, Lord Ixyldir. That's dirty pool.'
'I do not understand your reference,' replied the Ice Lord.
'It's not very honourable, is it?' replied the Doctor.
'That's what I'm saying. Theft, on a planetary scale.'
'This was not the humans' planet either. They selected it and claimed it. We were merely doing the same.'
'But they were here first, Ixyldir. It's a bit of a school playground he said, she said argument, I know, but do you know what? Most honour systems are built on very simple, basic concepts of ownership, or respect, or prior claim, or of precedence. The humans were here first, Ixyldir. You decided they were in the way, and you decided to steal their technology to eradicate them. Don't talk to me about honour.'
'It was a matter of survival,' objected Ixyldir.
'Ah yes, the famous pragmatism of the Ice Warriors.
You didn't mean to hurt anybody, but you were obliged to in order to survive. Lord Ixyldir, the deliberate and systematic eradication of an entire population is called genocide, and it's not regarded as especially honourable either. Not where nice people come from.'
'We had to survive! This was a viable planet—'
'You had a fleet of ships, Ice Lord. You could have gone somewhere else. The humans did not have that option.'
Ixyldir did not reply. For a few minutes, as the group continued to walk, entering a long, metallined hallway, the only sound was the tramp of feet and the rumble of the world-building engines.
'Anyway,' said the Doctor at length. 'Let's not dwell on your not-really-very-honourable-at-all decision-making process. You started to tinker with the terraformers. This was ten years ago. You knew it would be a gradual process that would take a long time, but you've got plenty of that, haven't you?
Hibernation systems on your starships. Lifetimes that are naturally three or four times those of humans. You could afford to play the long game. The Morphans, you know, they talk about patience a great deal. It's a fundamental quality of their culture. Not an easy, sleep-through-it-all patience like yours. I'm talking about the patience required to live and work every day, generation after generation, for a future ideal that will benefit your descendants. It's admirably selfless. Don't you think so?'
'It is... worthy of respect.'
'It is, isn't it?' the Doctor said. 'They just work towards the future. They make their contribution. They get no reward. They're just investing the effort of their lives for the good of other people they're never going to meet.'
They came out into another turbine hall, and Ssord led them up a broad metal staircase towards an upper level.
'So, your tinkering?' said the Doctor. 'You employed seed technology first?'
'Modified seed cultures were introduced to the primary terraformer systems. Initial results were positive.'
'But you reached a tipping point eventually,' said the Doctor. 'Eventually, as the winters began to get colder, the automatic monitoring systems governing the terraformer systems began to notice there was a problem. They performed self-diagnostic reviews and identified alien properties in the system. They needed to resolve the problem, so they accessed the DNA libraries, reopened the flesh banks, and grew a brand new batch of transrats to flush out the system.'
'Vermin was our first problem,' Ixyldir acknowledged.
'Transrats are resilient,' said the Doctor. "The more you killed, the more they made. That must have become a bit of a war. A guerrilla war, going on underground in the mountains, where the Morphans couldn't see it.'
'We prosecuted the vermin. The problem took about a year to control.'
'You used standard sonic disruptors, and you were forced to destroy some of the DNA banks and flesh farms so that the terraformers simply couldn't produce as many replacement transrats?'
'Yes.'
'And that still wasn't enough, was it?' the Doctor asked. 'They're resilient, as I said. Eventually, you must have realised that you couldn't beat the transrats. You had to find a way around them so they were no longer an impediment to your schemes?'
'We were forced to select alternatives to the processes we had originally put in place,' replied Ixyldir, 'the processes that the vermin had disabled.
Seed technology was no longer viable, because the vermin simply devoured it.'
'You started to actually convert the terraformers themselves? Recalibrate their systems?'
'Yes.'
'And that's when things really escalated, isn't it?'
asked the Doctor.
'In here!' Ssord said abruptly.
The Doctor followed the Ice Warriors through a large hatch, noting that the palm-print reader had been drilled through.
They entered a massive, well-lit control room.
There were several banks of consoles like the one in the telepresence chamber, each with a row of high-backed chairs. The chamber itself overlooked one of the secondary sequence prebiotic crucibles through a vast plate-glass wall. The Doctor paused to enjoy the view of the giant chrome tree. Drizzle from the cloud systems swirling the ceiling of the crucible chamber pattered against the glass wall like light summer rain.
'Yes,' the Doctor nodded. 'This will do the trick nicely. A central operation nexus. Would have taken me ages to find this, especially with you lot chasing me.'
'What happens now?' asked Ixyldir. 'If you have tricked us into revealing the location of this facility to you, I will kill you myself.'
'I would expect no less,' replied the Doctor. He sat down at one of the workstations and began to play with the controls, lighting up banks of indicator functions and small hologram read-outs.
'You see, Ixyldir,' he said as he worked, 'what I think has happened is this. You tampered with the terraformers. The system detected you, and manufactured transrats to solve the problem. So you started tampering in a different way to get around the transrat problem, and the system detected that too. It hadn't got many options left, so it had to do something quite radical.'
The Doctor turned to look at the Ice Lord.
'It built something else, Ixyldir,' he said. 'Something bigger and nastier. With what was left of its flesh farms, it manufactured something else.'
'Like what, cold blue star?' Ixyldir asked.
The Doctor shrugged.
'The next effective stage beyond transrats.
Something Transhuman, is my guess. And that's what you're fighting now.'