Free Doctor Who: Terminus by John Lydecker

of saying so he moved aside so that Olvir would be able to see the navigation screen. ‘Tell me what you make of this,’ he said.
    ‘I’m combat section,’ Olvir started to reply automatically, ‘I don’t...’ but the Doctor waved him down.
    ‘All right. It’s an expanded chart showing the position of the Terminus.’
    Olvir did his best to appear interested, but he couldn’t keep it up. The screen showed a vague, cloudy sphere made up of points with individual details too small to make out. At the centre of this pulsed the red point that had marked the Terminus from the beginning. He shook his head and said,
    ‘Don’t waste your time on that old hulk.’
    The Doctor rarely became impatient, but he seemed to be getting close to it now. He said, ‘We don’t know what kind of technology may be preserved in that “old hulk”.’
     
    It was Nyssa who defused the argument before it could begin. ‘But, Doctor,’ she said, stepping through for a closer look at the illuminated chart, ‘if that’s what I think it is...’ The Doctor was nodding, encouraging her. ‘Then it means that the Terminus is at the exact centre of the known universe!’
    ‘It’s all going wrong.’
    ‘ The Doctor still lives? ’
    ‘I haven’t even seen him yet. I’m trapped with one of the others.’
    ‘Because you disobeyed me.’
    ‘ I know. I’m sorry. ’
    ‘A poor beginning to your service.’
    ‘I never killed anybody before.’
    ‘ There are weapons all around you. Keep one close to hand. Make them trust you and then, when it is least expected, strike. ’
    ‘I will.’
    ‘ You know the rewards for success. I have other rewards for your failure. ’
    The light in the cube began to die, as Tegan’s voice came echoing through the shaft to him. ‘Turlough? Is something wrong?’
    He returned the cube to his pocket and leaned out over the drop. ‘I’m on my way,’ he called in reply, and he reached for the first of the rungs to begin his descent.
    When he reached the bottom of the shaft, Turlough emerged into an underfloor area that was hardly different from the one that they’d left behind. Tegan was already trying alone to raise the overhead grille, but she didn’t seem to be having much success. She gave up as Turlough sat beating the dust from his clothes, and said, ‘What kept you?’
    ‘Out of practice,’ Turlough said, and he glanced at the grille. ‘Any luck?’
    Tegan shook her head. ‘Solid. I don’t even think that two of us could move it.’
    ‘Well, give me a minute and I’ll...’
    But Tegan was suddenly gripping his arm so hard that he stopped before he could finish. The intent to warn was obvious. She was staring upward, and he followed the look.
    The corridor above seemed no different from any other that they’d seen, with the exception that the lights were brighter down at the far end. It was a part of the liner that they hadn’t covered – they knew as much because it was two or three decks down, and until the discovery of the shaft they hadn’t descended at all. Now, Turlough could make out what Tegan had seen.
    The lights were brighter because the corridor ended in a door to the outside. The door was open, and somebody was coming in.
    He was Death.
    The image occurred to Tegan straight away, and it persisted even as he strode towards them and overhead. It was impossible to tell if he was a man or a machine under the weight of the dark armour that he wore. What appeared to be the lines of bones and sinews were moulded into its surface like old brass, and around his shoulders was a heavy cloak that almost reached the ground. They could feel a cold downdraft as it swept across the grating above. He carried a metal staff that lightly touched the floor with every other step. It sounded like the polite tap of the undertaker, with the carriage and the black-plumed horses waiting outside.
    Both Tegan and Turlough huddled down and tried to make themselves as small as possible. They didn’t