Chapter 14

With caution haunting their every move, the Doctor and Clara gingerly picked their way through the dormant Dalek army. In the enormous cavern, most of the lights were dimmed. However, in the very centre of the floor were several bright spot lights. These shown down on an empty space.

Forming dozens of neatly spaced rows across the cavern, the Dalek army reminded Clara of the toy metal soldiers her uncle used to have in his basement. On a table made up like a miniature parade ground, neatly spaced lines of miniature redcoats were lined up for inspection. The main difference being of course, that this army was life-sized and armed with real weapons.

Slowly, almost holding their breaths, the Doctor and Clara threaded in and out of the rows of Daleks until they came to a straight, narrow aisle which divided their ranks. At intervals, there seemed to be some sort of portable work stations. The Doctor halted suddenly as he passed one, turned on his heel and went back.

A squat, box-like device on wheels, three sides of its surface were full of knobs and dials. Not one of which Clara knew the workings of. The only thing she recognized was the computer screen which had been built into the top.

"Ah. Now this looks promising. Clara, help me shift this contraption over there, will you?"

The Doctor directed her to the wide rectangle of empty space in the middle of the room. The precise rows Daleks surrounded it, forming a hollow square. Built into the floor of this space at varying intervals, were what she assumed were power outlets. Rolling the device into position near one of the outlets, the Doctor reached down and plugged it in.

"This machine is incredibly old, Clara. But it does still seem to be working, at least." The Doctor's fingers began tapping at the computer screen. "Ah. Not good. The Daleks are gearing up for something big, alright. There's already over five hundred here, already. But according to this, there's preparations underway for making thousands more."

"But what's it all for?" Clara asked.

"Hang on, I'm still trying to decipher this binary code."

"No need for that, Doctor." Spoke a chillingly familiar voice that made the Doctor freeze.

Sucking in his breath, the Doctor turned. His eyes glinted with hardness, as he stared at the speaker.

"Davros." He hissed angrily.

"I'd tell you what it is for, but I wouldn't want to revel my plans too soon. I hear you don't like...what is it the humans call it? Spoilers? But never fear, Doctor. I do intend to keep you around for the big finale."

Just at that moment, one by one, the front rows of Daleks began converging on the empty square in an exacting maneuver.

"I was wondering if you'd turn up again, Davros. And you're holding yet another family reunion. I must say, they do take after their mum. Too bad about that last big do of yours, though" The Doctor said. "But you know what they say. You can choose your friends, but not your relations."

The Doctor was referring to the time when Davros convinced the Daleks to make every planet in the universe disappear. Only to have the other metacrisis Doctor destroy the entire fleet, taking every Dalek—and he had thought, Davros, with it.

"And I see you still need to travel with a human companion, Doctor. How...quaint."

"Oh yeah, where are my manners? Clara, let me introduce you. This is Davros. The Dalek's mum and mad scientist extraordinaire."

Clara beheld a grotesque parody of a Dalek. It was a shriveled old man with a pale wrinkled face. He had no eyes, but a small round eyepiece, similar to a Dalek's round 'eye' was glowing from his forehead. Dressed in a black lab coat, his claw-like hands gripped the arms of the power chair he was sitting in.

Davros decided to ignore the jibe. Leaning forward, he gestured with one of his claws to the machine the Doctor had been working on .

"What were going to do with that, Doctor?" Davros asked.

"I was hoping to challenge Clara here to a game of Pac Man."

"I do not find that to be a satisfactory answer."

"Meh. Neither do I. But at least we finally agree on something."

"You make jokes, but I do not find them very amusing."

"Have you tried contacting the police?"

"I do not understand this question, Doctor. Why would I contact a policeman?"

"To check and see if anyone's turned in your lost sense of humour."

Clara could only stand and watch as the Doctor and Davros continued their back and forth conversation. It was like watching a verbal tennis match, she thought. Meanwhile, the Daleks surrounding them seemed to be barely restraining themselves, their guns twitching with desire to kill.

"I suppose we're coming to the point where you expect me to reveal my plans to you." Davros said with a smugness he could not restrain.

Tiling his head and smiling, the Doctor answered with feigned politeness, "Really? Yes, I suppose we are. That would be lovely. Cheers!"

"Trying to grasp what all this means has alluded you, I see. It will be something to muse upon while I decide on how best to dispose of you."

"I know your M.O. by now, Davros. I wrote your dossier." The Doctor smiled, but there was no trace of it in his eyes. "I take it back. You're not a mad scientist. You're a broken record. You keep playing the same old song, 'Kill Everything Not Dalek.'

"That was—and continues to be, the sole purpose of my work, Doctor."Davros admitted proudly. "The only way to save the Kaled way of life, was through the purity of our race. It is my greatest desire to purge all undesirables from the face of creation. Only then will the universe be the way it was always meant to be. Why should I change that? Why would I ever want to? The Daleks will continue to do my work for as long as it takes. It's what they were made for."

"If you ask me, your Daleks missed their calling. They should have been in the entertainment business. They'd make a fortune. Look at what you've got already: An ancient temple right out of Indiana Jones, glow-in-the-dark Daleks, a fun fair ride, a slide, Daleks on parade. It's like a Dalek Disneyland down here! All you need is a scary roller coaster and some cute fancy dress costumes."

"Jest if you like, Doctor" Davros said, swiveling his chair away. "You won't be laughing much longer." He backed his chair away and addressed the Daleks. "Take the Doctor to his cell."

"What, no more gloating? I'm so disappointed. That's always the best part." The Doctor said to Davros' back.

Out of the crowd of Daleks came their commander. Taller and coloured differently than the others, it rolled to a stop in front of Davros.

"I await your command, Creator." It barked out.

"You will not stop me this time, Doctor. Put him in a cell. Take his companion to the processing unit. She will become one of my warriors."

"What? No! You can't!" A suddenly horrified Doctor shouted, struggling to reach Clara.

"Doctor!" She cried out, wincing as a gun poked into her rib cage.

But the army of Daleks had already arranged themselves between Clara and the Doctor, cutting him off from her.

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