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. You don t even know the young lady.You ve been readingtoo much Walter Scott. He gave a strained smile. Jamie,trust me, please.We have to be very careful indeed.Onefalse move and the Daleks might destroy the TARDIS.Then what would become of us? What will become of Victoria if we don t help her?demanded Jamie. She cannot be our primary concern, the Doctorinsisted. Jamie, please, trust me on this. I d like to, Doctor, said Jamie slowly. I d like to. Itwas clear from the look in his eyes, though, that he washaving grave difficulty doing so.Victoria sat on the edge of her small bed, her fingersmoving almost automatically to gather her few possessionstogether.A brush and comb, a small mirror, the fewtoiletries the Daleks had allowed her to keep; justfragments from the life she had once led.One by one sheplaced the items onto a hand-towel so that she would beable to carry them.With a deep sigh, she wondered whatwas to become of her. Hurry, grated the Dalek in the doorway of her tinycell. But why am I being moved ? she asked.All the fearhad drained from her, leaving only an ache in her soul.Shedid not for one moment consider it likely, but she had toask,  Are you taking me back to my father? No, the Dalek answered. You are being moved.That told her nothing.Knotting the ends of the toweltogether, Victoria grasped her small bundle and slowlystood up.It hardly mattered what happened to her anymore.Nothing, not even execution, could be worse thanthe nightmare she had already been through at theinstigation of these evil creatures.She only wished that shecould see her father again.He must be so desperatelyworried about her.He was such a dear man, and so totally out of his depthat times.Since her mother had died, Victoria had been thewoman of the house.She had reminded her father to eatand to wash and change his shirt.His eagerness to be backat his experiments, his intensity when working, the joyfullight in his eyes whenever one of his theories provedcorrect all brought happiness to Victoria s heart.And whenMr Maxtible had offered to fund her father s work and toallow them to stay at this country manor of his, Victoriahad imagined all manner of grand possibilities.At the first it had been so wonderful.Mr Maxtible was agreat teller of tales, and had travelled the world.Each itemhe owned had a story behind it that he had delighted inexplaining.And there had been parties  Ruth had seen tothat.Having another girl her own age about the house hadbeen all the excuse she had needed.Those first few monthshad been wonderful. Pick up your cover! the Dalek ordered, jerking herback to the terrible reality of her new status.Victoriaobeyed, picking up the rough blanket from her bed.Folding it across her arm, she gripped her small bundle inher right hand. Follow, the Dalek instructed.It spunabout and glided out of the room.Victoria followed it outside into the narrow corridor.This was as far as she had been allowed to go in the past.The door opposite was for the small washroom she wasescorted to and from twice a day.This had been her worldfor weeks now.The Dalek turned to the left, then spun itseyestick back to regard her. Do not be afraid, it ordered. You are not to beexterminated.That was a small concession at least; if she could believethis creature.Still, the Daleks had never lied to her in thepast.They had no need to lie.A second Dalek glided up,falling in behind her.They were not going to kill her, butthey were taking no chances on her making an escape. Move, the new Dalek told her.She started off down the corridor.This was the southwing, which Maxtible had been intending to haverefurbished.There were no carpets and no furniture in thecorridor.The walls were bare, and there were no lights.Sunlight illuminated the corridor from the infrequentwindows.As she passed one, Victoria could not resiststopping to stare outside.They were on the second floor of the house.She couldsee out across the tops of the trees in the garden.Beyondthem, she knew, was the meandering stream where Ruthhad taken her riding, and where they had held happypicnics.Birds fluttered about the branches, chirping andwhistling cheerfully.They could afford to be cheery; theywere free. Do not delay, the Dalek behind her commanded.Tearing her gaze away from the freedom that was out ofher reach, Victoria plodded forward.She was a prisoner ofthe Daleks.There was no hope of freedom for her.Thenightmare would continue as long as she lived.There wasno one who could help her.No one.13A Trial of StrengthIn the sitting room, the Doctor was attempting to reassureWaterfield.The scientist was standing beneath the portraitof his wife, staring at it.He seemed to be transfixed by it.The Doctor could understand why: the unknown artistwho had done the work had captured a rare vitality in thepaints.And, of course, the portrait had a great deal ofmeaning for Waterfield.It reminded him of his dead wife,and his abducted daughter.The painting seemed to have affected Jamie, too.Nowthat the Doctor had spoken with Jamie he knew that theyoung man had somehow been drawn to Victoria throughthat picture.Interesting, but was that accidental or part ofthe Daleks plan? You warned him, Doctor, Waterfield said accusingly. You told him about the Daleks. Of course I did, the Doctor agreed. I couldn t let Jamiego into danger without understanding the true scope of hisperil, could I? But you were expressly told  Oh, fiddlesticks! the Doctor snapped, annoyed at last.He could feel for Waterfield s concerns, but he was takingthis whole matter much too pessimistically.Spinningaround to glare at the scientist, the Doctor failed to noticeJamie slip into the room.The Scot, realizing he wasunobserved, quickly hid himself behind a large Chinesescreen by the door [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]