Free Doctor Who: Festival of Death: 50th Anniversary Edition by Jonathan Morris

on the loose. Wreaking havoc, no doubt.’
    Dunkal pressed his cigarette into the ashtray. ‘You want us to apprehend them again?’
    ‘I most definitely do,’ said Metcalf. ‘Dead or alive. I shall leave which to your investigatorial discretion. In execution of your duties, so to speak.’
    Rige unpacked his rifle and levered off the safety catch. ‘Best news I’ve heard all day.’
    ‘Here we go again.’ Dunkal straightened his peaked cap, and followed Rige out of the office. As they left, Metcalf flicked on the public address system.
    ‘G-Lock. This is Executive Metcalf speaking. I regret to announce that once again the terrorist known as the Doctor is on the rampage, accompanied by his co-conspirator Romana. Will all skullguards immediately attend to their recapture, dead or alive.’
    ‘Although they are both highly dangerous, and have caused the recent disaster resulting in mass murder, there is no cause for public disquiet. Thank you.’
    Romana listened with growing trepidation as the loudspeaker crackled off. The Doctor was still deep in thought. Since Evadne’s announcement, he had barely said a word. His face was drawn, his eyeballs even more prominent than usual. ‘I hope I don’t die too soon,’ he muttered, laughing humourlessly. ‘I should be most upset.’
    ‘Doctor,’ said Romana gently. ‘We can’t be sure that Evadne’s telling the truth. She might be mistaken. After all, she has obviously experienced considerable psychological trauma.’
    The Doctor cheered up. ‘You’re right, of course, Romana. Best to just get on with it, mmm? “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow –”’
    Before the Doctor could finish, Evadne dashed back from the end of the corridor where she had been keeping watch. ‘They’re coming this way.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Skullguards.’ Evadne ushered them over to a doorway. The door swung open to reveal complete darkness. ‘Double-quick. Through here.’
    K-9 was the first to enter, wobbling over the clutter of wreckage. Watching the robot dog cautiously, Evadne disappeared after him.
    There was the clatter of approaching bootsteps.
    ‘Skullguards.’ The Doctor rubbed his nose, and then dramatically dived through the door. Romana caught a fleeting glimpse of four black-robed guards rounding the corner, before she leapt through the entrance and tugged the door shut after her.
    The bootsteps neared the door, paused, and stomped away. Romana let out a relieved sigh. There was the overpowering smell of burnt metal; she was reminded of a disused refinery, or the inside of an oven.
    The Doctor switched on his torch. They had entered an immense cathedral-like chamber, its pillars bridging together to form arches across the high ceiling. The sloping walls were coated in soot, and the masonry had crumbled in places to reveal the ship’s skeleton of girders. Rubble from the collapsed ceiling covered the ground, forming mountains of smashed slabs and scorched metal. The opening they had used was merely a concealed side entrance – two huge iron doors dominated one end of the hall.
    ‘Here we are. This is the Great Hall,’ announced Evadne, her voice echoing in the silence. ‘Or least, it used to be.’
    The torch light flitted along the walls. On one side, the hall was overlooked by a gallery of windows. The glass had shattered and, as the shadows lengthened and shortened in the moving light, the windows resembled empty eye sockets.
    Hundreds of open, metal caskets filled every available space on the lower walls. They were decked in three levels, each set slightly further back into the wall than the one below, each casket standing upright and accessed by a narrow walkway. More caskets spilled out on to the floor, arranged in rows and aisles. Each one was the size of a coffin, with enough space to allow the occupant to lie, or stand, within. Romana was reassured to see that they were all unoccupied.
    The Doctor flashed the light over to the doorway, where K-9