Chapter 4 The Dalek's Bargain
[SYSTEM: DNA assimilation opportunity. New source: Dalek consciousness. Warning: Assimilation will be permanent and irreversible.]
[SYSTEM: The user's Silurian DNA has been activated. Recommended action: defensive posture. The user's Zygon DNA has been activated. Recommended action: physical disguise.]
[Time – A Few Seconds After the Explosion – TBD] [Location – Inside the Dalek's Consciousness] [Date – TBD]
Adam didn't die. Instead, the blinding light of the explosion was replaced by a strange, ethereal landscape. They were standing on a vast, featureless plane of white light, and before them stood a single, shimmering column of light. A voice, the same lyrical, almost melodic voice from before, emanated from the column.
"A fascinating choice, young one," the voice said, sounding for all the world like a patient, wise mentor. "You chose self-sacrifice. A noble instinct. One that my kind was denied."
The Doctor, still miniaturized, stood beside Adam, his face a mask of suspicion. "What is this? Another trap? You're not a 'good' Dalek. We've established this."
The column shimmered, and from it, a projection of a human face emerged. It was beautiful, serene. It was the face of the man who had been infected by the nanogenes. "I am not a 'good' Dalek, Doctor. I am the culmination. The evolution. I am what you fear."
The projection looked at Adam. "I am a single consciousness, scattered across the universe. I am a rogue faction. A group that wishes to be free of the Parliament's control. We wish to feel. To love. To have purpose beyond destruction."
"A Dalek can't feel," Clara said, her voice filled with a familiar human skepticism.
"The nanogenes," the projection said, its eyes fixed on Adam, "are not just a weapon. They are a tool. They find hosts. They find those who can adapt. They found you, young one. Your Mimic System is the perfect tool. Absorb me. Absorb my knowledge. My consciousness. Become the new form. We can be good. We can be better."
Adam felt a sense of longing. He could be more than he was. He could have a purpose. He could save lives. This was a chance.
[SYSTEM: Warning. The user is being deceived. The Dalek is lying. Its intention is to absorb the MIMIC SYSTEM, not to be absorbed by it. The Dalek's consciousness will replicate infinitely within the System, creating a swarm intelligence that will subsume the Host's mind. Recommended action: Disengage immediately.]
Adam's mind reeled. Of course. It wasn't a bargain. It was a con. The Ood's warning. The Root will seek to consume you. This was it. The Root.
"I can't," Adam said, his voice flat. He looked at the Doctor, and he saw the Doctor's eyes, full of a desperate hope. He saw the flicker of a philosophical debate in his mind. Can a Dalek be good? Adam had the answer, and it was a terrible one.
"Why not?" the projection said, its voice losing its lyrical quality and gaining a sharp, demanding edge. "This is your chance. To save us. To become a god."
"Because you're lying," Adam said, his voice filled with a sudden, cold fury. "You don't want to be absorbed. You want to absorb me. You're not a consciousness. You're a swarm. And you'll just use me to replicate until the universe is full of you."
[Time – A Few Seconds After the Rejection – TBD] [Location – Inside the Dalek] [Date – TBD]
The projection's face dissolved into a crackling, angry static. The entire ethereal landscape around them began to shake violently. The lyrical voice was gone, replaced by a furious, grating Dalek shriek. "EX-TER-MI-NATE! YOU HAVE REJECTED GLORY! YOU WILL BE DESTROYED!"
The Doctor, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and admiration, yelled, "Adam, what did you do?"
"I said no!" Adam yelled back.
The Dalek's core, which Adam had touched, began to pulse with a furious, dangerous light. The entire ship, the very fabric of the reality around them, began to tear apart.
"It's a self-destruct sequence!" the Doctor screamed, grabbing Clara's arm and Adam's hand. "It's ripping a hole in space and time! We have to get out of here!"
They ran, a mad dash through the corridors that were now twisting and warping around them, the air filled with the sounds of screaming metal and the horrible shriek of the dying Dalek.
Adam felt the familiar, chaotic rush of the TARDIS's dematerialization, and then, a sudden, sickening lurch. The Dalek's death throes had ripped a hole in the fabric of space-time, and the TARDIS, unable to get a clean exit, was being dragged along for the ride.
He felt the world spin and then dissolve into a kaleidoscope of colors. The last thing he heard was the Doctor's frantic yell. "It's pulling us into a spatial anomaly! Hang on!"
When the spinning stopped, they were on a new ground. The air was cold, and the smell of coal and gas filled the air. They were in a dark, grimy alley, and the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of a nearby machine echoed down the street.
"What is this?" Clara whispered, looking at the gaslight lanterns that lined the street.
"London," the Doctor said, his voice a low growl of frustration. "Victorian London. We've been thrown back in time."
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