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  From her position halfway up the ramp, Yaz couldn’t see what Nightshade was holding, but a moment later there was a fierce sizzling noise and the bright pulse of weapon fire. The Doctor fell.

  ‘No!’ screamed Yaz.

  Beside her, Ryan let out a cry and sank to his knees.

  A triumphant Nightshade stood over the Doctor’s body. She lay in the snow as flakes continued to fall on her. Through her numbing fear, Yaz knew that she had seen this before. The vision she’d had when she was inside the TARDIS. It had come true.

  The Doctor was dead.

  The clunk of the closing hangar-bay doors signalled that Nightshade’s shuttle had successfully returned to his command ship in orbit round Calufrax Major. As he headed to the bridge, he gave the order to plot a course to their next – and final – destination.

  He felt no remorse for his actions on the planet below. All things must die. That was the way of the universe, and even the universe must obey its own laws. He was merely the agent of that change.

  There was a buzz on the bridge. With the Time Lord dead, the prophecy of the Rose Garden of Eternity had lost its hold over the crew. They sensed victory and the end of a mission set in motion millions of years ago. Nightshade took his place at his command station, setting down roots in the floor to anchor himself for the imminent acceleration, and opened his gnarled palm. The dormant Genesis Seed lay there. Unique. But, in some ways, not so different from any other.

  He glanced up, as the Time Lord’s young companions were marched on to the bridge. They posed no threat to him now, and had spent the duration of the journey in the shuttle clinging to one another in dismal silence. All that remained in them was a spark of anger, and they could do nothing with that other than to glower at him through eyes red with tears. Nightshade felt no impulse to console them or to justify his actions. In his anticipation of the end, he felt himself bathed with unexpected feelings of generosity. He wondered if his crew could see it upon him, shining like spring blossom.

  ‘Navigator, give me a visual on our target.’

  At his command, the crew member brushed a finger across a tightly budded flower, which opened, iris-like, at his touch. Like most of the systems aboard the Gardener ship, it was grown rather than built. A second later, the central screen was filled with an intense light. Powerful filters engaged, struggling to dim the image and protect the delicate sensors. Nightshade had to raise a hand to shield his eyes against the brightness. Yaz and Ryan did likewise, turning their heads away.

  ‘What is that?’ asked Yaz.

  Nightshade answered the question with one of his own. ‘What do you know about germination?’

  Ryan huffed. ‘Uh, I know that I am not about to listen to some boring lecture from a maniac who just murdered my friend.’

  Nightshade ignored the boy. ‘Most seeds require some combination of water, oxygen, darkness, light and heat in order to trigger the process that ultimately leads to them becoming fully grown. In the case of the Genesis Seed, it requires light and heat.’

  Yaz had listened to his explanation in Vault Thirteen, and yet still couldn’t comprehend how something as tiny and insignificant as an apple seed could bring about the destruction of the universe. But the Doctor hadn’t contradicted Nightshade’s firmly held belief, which meant it was true. The end was coming. The end of everything and everyone she knew and loved. It had already begun with the Doctor. If Nightshade got his way, the rest would soon follow.

  ‘Time to destination?’ he asked his navigator.

  The crew member consulted the downy head of a dandelion clock. One quarter of the seeds had already flown. ‘Fifty clocks until target.’

  The buzz on the bridge intensified. Nightshade extended a hand, and a fat bumblebee – the source of the sound – settled on the end of one green finger. ‘Unlike any other, the Genesis Seed requires a significant fusion reaction to trigger germination,’ the Gardener said.

  ‘Fusion?’ said Yaz, aware of her heart beating faster.

  The filters had finally dulled the blinding glare enough to make their destination visible on the main screen. She slipped her hand into Ryan’s.

  They were heading directly into Calufrax Major’s sun.

  * * *

  —

  Graham staggered out of the inner vault and collapsed to his knees, shivering in the cold air. His vision remained blurry, which he put down to his half-closed left eye. The result of a blaster butt to the face, from what he could dimly remember. The vault was empty. The Gardeners had left, and there was no sign of anyone else. Maybe the blow had left him unconscious for longer than he’d thought.

  It was then that he spotted the TARDIS. He’d almost missed it, so completely did the noughtweed cover its exterior. A plague of curling tendrils had turned the familiar blue to a vile green. The door was ajar, which was one good thing. It meant the Doctor wasn’t far away.

  Graham looked about for her in the worsening blizzard, squinting through the driving snow until his one good eye came to rest on a dark shape lying on the ground. A terrible premonition gripped him, and he hurried over. As he drew closer, he saw that it was a figure, then realised with horror that it was the Doctor.

  She wasn’t moving.

  Glassy eyes stared out of skin like paper. Gently, he reached out a hand to stroke her cold cheek. To his horror, as his fingers touched her skin, her face collapsed into dust. Shocked, he scrabbled away, only to see the rest of her body disintegrate and turn into the same fine ash, which was carried away on the wind.

  ‘Graham, that is some shiner you’ve got there.’

  He spun round at the sound of the voice.

  It was her. The Doctor. Standing there alive and well.

  He had never been happier to see anyone. Holding back a great sob of relief he gestured towards what he had assumed to be her remains.

  ‘Doppelpod,’ she explained. ‘The plant mimics predators as a defensive measure. I figured a double might come in useful. The Attendant and I did a bit of private telepathic planning. The Attendant provided the distraction, and I carried out the switch. I’ve been hiding in one of those convenient shadowy alcoves.’ She gestured with a thumb over her shoulder. ‘You could say I was the other secret in Vault Thirteen.’

  There was a great blast from above, and a downdraught blew the snow into a whirling vortex. Graham looked up through the gaping hole in the roof to make out the glow of engines. Some kind of craft was leaving the planet.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘The Attendant,’ said the Doctor. ‘I’ll explain later.’

  Another earthquake shook the vault, stronger than the last one.

  ‘Time we were off,’ the Doctor said, striding towards the TARDIS.

  Graham followed her inside. The noughtweed had penetrated the TARDIS too, tearing through the interior in the same way that it had overwhelmed the Galactic Seed Vault. Weeds clogged the console, carpeting the controls.

  Struggling to reach the controls past the tangle of vines, the Doctor somehow managed to set the ship in motion. As it dematerialised, she activated the main scanner and it displayed the exterior of the Galactic Seed Vault. As the TARDIS sped away, Graham realised that they were watching the vault’s last moments.

  The great edifice that had withstood all the time in the universe buckled and fell.

  Yaz and Ryan were locked up several decks below the bridge on the Gardener ship, in cells hurriedly prepared for them. Nightshade had intended to let them experience the sunstrike at his side. However, Ryan’d had other ideas.

  ‘Yes, but did you have to hit him over the head with it?’ Yaz asked.

  They were in separate cells, divided from one another by a dense green wall of hedge. A narrow slit gave them a limited view of the corridor outside.

  ‘He was asking for it,’ said Ryan.

  ‘I know, but a fire extinguisher?’

  ‘I thought it was a
log.’

  Secretly, she was proud of him for standing up to Nightshade. Not that she’d tell him that. Then it struck her that she may never get another chance. What was she waiting for? Through the hedge, she could just make him out, exploring the inside of his cell. He was trying to figure a way out of here. They may have been heading straight into a sun and moments away from the end of the universe, but he hadn’t given up.

  Neither had she. On the march from the bridge to the prison deck, she had tried to take in as many details about the ship’s layout and technology as she could, hoping to use any knowledge she could glean in a future escape attempt. From what she had observed, the ship was like a massive dugout canoe hollowed from a tree trunk that was capable of interstellar travel. She glanced into the upper corner of her cell, where a large red flower turned to follow her movements as she paced the floor. A security camera.

  There was a groan from the adjacent cell, as Ryan vented his frustration. He punched a fist at the thorn-filled door, which accomplished nothing other than earning him a series of painful scratches across his knuckles.

  Yaz took deep breaths and tried to still her rising panic. It didn’t help. They were trapped and heading for the end of the universe. As she exhaled slowly for the third time, the breath caught in her throat, interrupted by the wail of an alarm. Outside her cell, she glimpsed a couple of guards dashing past, leaving their posts. Presumably called away to deal with something more urgent.

  ‘What do you think that’s about?’ she said, trying to peer along the corridor, but unable to find an angle through the viewing slit.

  ‘Don’t know,’ said Ryan. ‘But they left in quite a hurry.’

  There was a sound from just outside, and a moment later a face appeared in the narrow window.

  ‘Graham!’ Yaz pushed her face up to his, her expression of delight giving way to a wince. ‘That is some shiner.’

  From the adjacent cell, Ryan called out, ‘Get us out of here! The ship’s going to crash into the sun. We have to get the Genesis Seed before it hits.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Graham. ‘The Doctor has everything under control.’

  Ryan frowned in confusion. ‘The Doctor? Our Doctor?’

  ‘The one and only,’ said Graham.

  ‘She’s alive?’ Yaz wanted to scream with happiness. They were not out of the game yet.

  The lights on the prison deck flickered.

  ‘What was that?’ said Yaz.

  ‘Power surge?’ suggested Ryan, certain that it was too minor to be of any significance.

  ‘That, my friends,’ said Graham, ‘was our way out.’

  * * *

  —

  Even with its advanced cooling systems, the temperature aboard the Gardener ship had climbed quickly as it approached the sun. But it was not the sun that had caused this latest spike in Nightshade’s temperature. He studied his monitor in fury. Moments ago, the blue box had appeared in the hangar bay. The Time Lord was dead by his hand, but this was a worrying development. The prophecy of the rose garden flowered again in his mind.

  He stabbed at a communicator. ‘Prepare an assault team and meet me outside the hangar.’ He would deal with this himself.

  ‘Sir, I am detecting a ship trailing us. It appears to have originated from the Galactic Seed Vault.’ A light began to blink on the weapons operator’s console. ‘A secondary object has detached from it and is bearing towards our position.’

  ‘A counter-attack?’

  ‘No weapon signature detected,’ she replied, turning to her equipment array to study the incoming object. ‘It appears to be one of the vault’s seed-collecting drones.’

  Nightshade flinched. It could be a weapon containing any number of lethal seeds. ‘Scan for biologicals.’

  There was a pause as the operator carried out his request. ‘Nothing, sir. It’s unarmed.’

  Nightshade allowed himself to relax. No more than a futile gesture, then. A stone hurled into the sky to ward off the night. However, even though it was highly unlikely that a drone with its limited capabilities could penetrate their shields, now was not the time to take chances.

  ‘Target the drone,’ he commanded. ‘Incinerate it.’

  At another console, the weapons operator acknowledged the command and bent to her task. The object was already too close to the ship to engage it safely with missiles, so instead she activated the close-combat plasmas. These weapons weren’t designed to bring down a target as small as the drone, so when the computers achieved a partial lock she took the shot. The first two salvos fired in quick succession. Both missed, and before she had a chance to launch a third the drone flew into the ship’s shields and disintegrated on impact. The lights on the bridge flickered.

  ‘Damage report,’ demanded Nightshade.

  ‘Negative,’ came the reply. ‘The drone was completely destroyed.’

  If this was part of some devious Time Lord trick, he had dealt with it successfully, just as he had destroyed the Doctor herself. He hauled himself out of his chair and set off across the bridge. He had only got halfway when the door swished open and in she strolled.

  She fanned herself with a large palm leaf. ‘Is it hot in here, or is it me?’

  ‘I killed you,’ said Nightshade, in the face of the contradiction.

  ‘Paul Daniels,’ said the Doctor. ‘Wonderful close-up magician. Taught me a lot about misdirection. You’re going to like this. Not a lot.’ She held out her free hand, which was clenched into a fist, then slowly opened it palm facing up.

  On it lay an apple seed.

  ‘No, not the Genesis Seed,’ she said. ‘But neither is yours.’

  ‘You lie!’

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Remember when I persuaded you to let me open the door to the inner vault? That was so I could get close enough to the real seed to make the switch. Yours is an apple seed, all right, but it’s one I picked up on Tellus IV. At a picnic.’ She closed her palm and blew on her fist. When she opened it again, the seed had vanished. ‘And that’s magic!’

  A murmur of unease rippled through the crew. Could the Time Lord be telling the truth? Were they heading into oblivion for nothing? Nightshade stared at the seed in his hand. A question crossed his mind like a petal in the wind.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I will not believe it.’ His fingers closed over the seed again, and he clutched it tightly. But he sensed the misgivings among his crew, and he knew he had to quash their doubt before it spiralled into a mutiny. There was only one way. With his other hand, he drew his weapon, aimed and fired at the Doctor.

  Nothing.

  He tried again, with the same result. The blaster seemed to be malfunctioning.

  ‘All your personal weapons are linked to the ship’s systems for increased targeting accuracy. Isn’t that so?’ asked the Doctor.

  It was true. The link gave them an edge in close combat.

  ‘As of thirty seconds ago, your ship and its associated systems fell under its control.’ The Doctor gestured with the palm leaf to the very centre of the bridge. ‘Curatrix,’ she said to the holographic figure standing there, ‘how was your trip?’

  The Galactic Seed Vault’s AI consulted its clipboard before answering. ‘Following your discussion with the Attendant, the seed-collecting drone carrying my consciousness launched at a velocity of one thousand eight hundred miles per hour, then collided eight point six seconds later with this vessel’s shields, resulting in the drone’s total physical destruction. It took me point zero three seconds to upload myself through the electrical barrier into the ship’s systems.’ The Curatrix made a tick on its clipboard. ‘It is good to see you again, Doctor.’

  Fully operational, the Curatrix was an AI of staggering power and authority. The noughtweed had weakened it substantially, but with a boost from the Doctor it had regained most of its functionality. It therefore took mere milliseconds for the Curatrix to bring the Gar
dener warship’s systems to its knees. The central processing unit succumbed with a whimper, surrendering its secrets and codes. In the cells, the flower cameras wilted, the hedges withered, and the way out was clear.

  Ryan and Yaz were free.

  Graham quickly led them to the nearest lift, as per the Doctor’s plan. More alarms sounded at the escape attempt, triggering a security response. Guards converged on the prison deck only to be tripped up by the Curatrix-controlled systems. Doors opened, then swiftly closed behind the security teams, shutting them in. Artificial gravity was switched off in selected corridors, sending them floating into walls. Lifts carrying reinforcements came stuttering to a stop between floors, trapping the occupants. The Curatrix caused chaos for the Gardeners, while creating a clear escape corridor for the Doctor’s companions.

  ‘Fifteen clocks until sunstrike,’ announced the helmsman over the ship-wide communication system.

  Graham and the others hurried into the last working lift. The doors slid shut, and it jolted into motion. The hangar bay was five decks below them, and they reached it in less than a minute. The TARDIS was waiting, and Graham had the key.

  When they got inside, Yaz froze at the sight of the console room. There was noughtweed all over the place, invading every surface, every system.

  ‘The Doc says the TARDIS is going nowhere unless we can remove it,’ said Graham.

  Yaz swallowed hard. The Galactic Seed Vault hadn’t been able to resist the weed, so how could the TARDIS?

  From outside in the hangar bay, the voice echoed again. ‘Fourteen clocks until sunstrike.’

  Time wasn’t running out. It was riding a roller coaster with its arms in the air, going, ‘Aghhhhh!’

  Graham looked to Yaz. ‘She said you’d know what to do.’

  ‘Do what?’ asked Ryan desperately. ‘What did the Doctor mean?’

  Yaz understood, but there wasn’t much time. Locating the dowsing rod half buried beneath the vines, she prised it from the console and repeated the steps she’d seen the Doctor perform. She clasped the glowing blue needle.