There was a ladder leading down into the pit. She swung on to it, gripping the slippery rungs carefully. Water sloshed over her as she clambered down, and she forced herself to ignore the discomfort. She had to know what was going on here. Her feet slipped more than once, but her strong grip on the rungs kept her from falling. Finally, she was at the bottom of the ladder, standing in about four inches of freezing water. She wiped the rain from her eyes and glanced around.

The pit was about ten feet across, and she’d clambered down almost a hundred. Across from the ladder was a doorway of metal, apparently set into the solid rock wall. The door itself was open, the cables running inside.

How could anyone be this foolish? She moved to the door and checked beside it. Yes, there was a Dalek lock there, its cryptic inscriptions unreadable to her. Somehow, somebody had been able to open the lock. And that made her pause. She could probably have managed it eventually, but who else on this planet could? And, most importantly – why?

Carefully, she peered around the doorway. She’d had visions of men with guns pointed at her face, but there was only the empty passageway, with the power cables snaking inside.

Susan took a deep breath. There was only one way to find out where they led…

Estro glared at the video screen in frustration. He’d installed a vid‐comlink in DA‐17 to enable faster, more efficient reports to be fed through to his quarters; and to make this seem less suspicious, he had provided Haldoran with a few more dotted around his headquarters. Now he’d been forced to excuse himself from the war room again, just as things were getting interesting, to answer this call from his blundering guards.

‘What is it now?’ he growled.

‘We’ve caught a Peace Officer, sir,’ the guard reported. ‘I’ve got her locked up. We set up an “accident” a few miles back with a plausible body in it to throw the Peace Officers off the track for now, but I’m sure they’ll be back. I thought we could use the girl as a hostage.’

Well, for once the morons had used what few grey cells they had. ‘Good work,’ he said grudgingly. ‘But I want the girl sent to me here. I can’t slip away right now –’ he smiled, vaingloriously – ‘we’re in the middle of a war. Double the patrols, and if anyone else turns up, bring them here immediately. If the Peace Officers are interested, we may have to be careful until the power’s flowing properly. Are there any current estimates?’

The guard smirked. ‘I just spoke to Lockwood,’ he replied, pleased to show his initiative. ‘He estimates another three hours.’

‘Fine,’ said Estro approvingly. ‘I’ll try to get to you then. If I can’t, he knows what to do. I want regular reports every half‐hour once breakthrough has been achieved. No excuses!’

‘Understood, sir,’ the guard agreed. He saluted, and then switched off the contact.

Estro rubbed his beard reflectively. Everything was proceeding well. It was a shame he was forced to stay here and help Haldoran while the task force did the more interesting work, but that was the problem with humans: no sense of timing. Still, if he was not there for the actual opening, it would hardly matter. What could possibly go wrong?

The rain was falling heavily, but Barlow had no intention of heading for cover. He waved his men forward, ignoring the soaking they were all getting. A force of some forty of Lord London’s men were in the buildings ahead of them. They didn’t have a clear view of his men, thanks to the storm, so there were only occasional shots being fired. Still, if Estro’s information was correct, his men wouldn’t be so limited. He gestured to the eight men with the Dalek guns.

They moved forward, raising the alien technology. A shot cracked from one shattered window, and one of his men turned and triggered the gun he carried.

An arc of radiation hissed through the rain, spraying across the target area. The enemy soldier screamed, his body glowing in the lethal blast, and he collapsed forward. Barlow stared at the sight in fascination.

It had also affected the other soldiers in the ruins. More shots rang out, none coming near to a target. All eight men returned fire, concentrating their deadly beams at any site that might hide a foe. Howling in agony, man after man died in the terrible fire. Barlow couldn’t look away, watching as the enemy died.

This, this was why the Daleks were remembered with such terror! To be able to deal out death like this – grim, implacable death at the touch of a finger on a trigger – this was power! The Daleks must certainly have been terrifying foes, with weapons like this at their command. It was astonishing that any of the human race had survived their invasion. A feeling of awe gripped him.

And now, he had their weapons. Why, with forty men, all armed with Dalek guns, he could take London! Better, probably the whole country! He stared in rapt fascination as the eight men dealt death to anyone in their path. One part of him felt slightly sorry for the victims, but the greater part revelled in the devastation.

He turned to his aide. ‘Today,’ he murmured softly, the face of war has changed completely. This is the way of the future. Here and now, a new rule begins.’ He was entranced.

7

Secrets

Within the ruins, Broadhurst stared at the devastation in horror. Time after time, those dreadful rays burst out of nowhere, annihilating his men. Rain sizzled and turned to steam in their path, and their victims might well have done the same. What in the devil’s name were Haldoran’s men using?

‘We can’t fight this,’ he whispered to his aide. ‘Tell the men to pull back, immediately. We can’t stop this.’

‘Dalek guns,’ one of the sergeants said briefly.

‘Dalek weapons?’ Broadhurst stared at the man. ‘But they’re men out there.’

‘I fought the Daleks,’ the older man said coldly. ‘That’s how they killed, Haldoran’s using Dalek guns.’

But how? thought Broadhurst. ‘We have to pull back,’ he repeated, as another of his men died writhing in agony. ‘London’s got to know about this.’ He called out, ‘Pull back! Pull back now!’ Clambering to his feet, he led the retreat. The bitterness of defeat and loss was mixed with dread of this new instrument of war. If Haldoran had somehow found a cache of Dalek weapons, then God help them all.

Susan crept down the passageway, pressed against the metal wall. It was short, but completely open. If anyone passed the entrance, they would need only to glance around to see her. There was nowhere for her to hide. But her luck held, and she made it to the next doorway without being detected. This one was a regular Dalek door, with the sliding panel, and the Dalek‐shaped opening. She shuddered. The last time she’d seen anything like this was back in their city, on their homeworld of Skaro, when she and her grandfather had helped the Thais to destroy the Daleks. For ever, they had believed.

Until the Daleks reappeared here, as the masters of Earth. The first Daleks she had encountered had been confined to the city, needing static electricity generated there and available to them through the metal floors. The Daleks here on Earth had been more sophisticated. They had used some kind of antenna system, with dishes attached to their backs allowing them to receive broadcast power.

This must have been some kind of Dalek site, not simply a pit. A lot of work had gone into this. She chanced a quick look around the door, and pulled back. Beyond it was an octagonal vestibule of some sort. It was about forty feet across, and there were several doors leading off from it. All of these were closed, and apparently untouched since the place had been sealed. The power lines she’d followed down here led to one of the two doors to the left of the entrance, and this was where the technicians were gathered. There was some sort of instrument there that they were working on. They had seemed very busy, so she chanced another glimpse.