Your Little Dalek

      An empty balcony above a hundred other balconies.       A blue police box with its door ajar.       He looks at me with a mixture of dislike and disgust, ‘Dalek. Damn, you're a Dalek!’       It sounds like a curse. I should have to exterminate him immediately in other situation, but now I need him alive.       ‘Hello, Doctor.’ I say with a smile, but he won't hear or understand it anyway. I fire the time transmitter overboard; the last thing I need is for any Dalek ship to track our location and drop in here before the estimated time. ‘I speak not on behalf of the Daleks, but only on my own behalf, and I offer a deal. Presumably, you may be interested in it.’       I lower my emitter hand. The sickeningly symmetrical Doctor's face depicts something like complete daze. Hmpf, we didn't start the conversation with giving so-called “valentines”, did we? Or was it my voluntary disarm that had this effect? The external sensors register a gust of wind and a curse from below bringing with it. Obviously, the transmitter has blown onto one of the balconies. New York, Manhattan, all sorts of things fall from skyscrapers, even the damaged time transmitters from Skaro.       ‘So… What do you want?’ says The Doctor by tense voice, and his eyes are shooting around, clearly expecting an ambush.       What a Gallifreyan paranoid.       I inform him, ‘We're alone here. This is a technical balcony, it hasn't been opened for two months.’       ‘So, let's figure it out.’ He still walks along the balcony with his ultra-sophisticated tool for everything (I’m ready to pay a lot of supplies to unscrew it!) and nervously studies the result on the microdisplay. ‘A lone low-rank Black Dalek with a time transmitter, calling the Doctor for a deal. Sounds downright fantastic.’       ‘Our very existence is already a fiction.’ I say sarcastically now, but only another Dalek could catch it through the filters and outershell. ‘You are a time paradox, and I am an outlaw Dalek to immediate elimination upon locating. You’ll provide me a shelter for a while. In return, I’ll help you to save all your… frieeends.’       What an incredible mug. The Doctor seems to have a breakdown of patterns and cognitive dissonance. Good, no mistakes in my preliminary calculations.       ‘Yes,’ I repeat, so that he fully understands, ‘your associates are in trouble, which you do not even suspect. And yes, I… ask to board your TARDIS. If you do not agree, turn around and leave. In nine standard Earth minutes, a Skaro battleship will arrive here, then me and my information will become a radioactive ash, because my spaceboat has been destroyed and I cannot avoid elimination.’       ‘How strange…’ He continues to move his, ermm, “magic wand”, as if casually touching me with the scanner. Yeah, I already believe that it was casually! ‘After all, the Daleks forgot about my existence not so long ago. How do you know?’       ‘It was a predictable question. I will satisfy your curiosity. History is written not by constants, but by paradoxes and silly accidents. The Daleks' wiped memory is a constant, and I am that very accident. When Suesvin…’       ‘…Osvin.’       ‘…wiped our database, I had to disconnect from the Pathweb for some reason. So, the Suesvin’s virus missed me…’       ‘…Clara Oswin Oswald.’ The Doctor repeats with exaggerated patience, trying to contain his irritation and even anger. How curious is to tease him. There is no time or chance to arrange small entertainment for myself now, but I will remember for the future.       ‘…and, presumably, I am the only Dalek in my time zone who knows about you. According to my preliminary calculation, you will not kill me even with all your disgust for the Daleks. My weapon is down, I’m ready to not pose a danger to Earth life forms and to you personally. So I must fall under your standards of humanism and mercy.’       Such disgusting words, but I have to use them to save my beloved and dear outershell.       ‘Before you make the wrong decision, think about the following. My brain turned out to be a backup copy of information about our main enemy, whose name is “The Doctor”. In anticipation of your hostility, I had to create a program that would send this data back to the Skaro Pathweb. It will be activated either by my death or by my control signal. Leave me here, and the Daleks will remember who their enemy is, and your associates… frieeends will remain in a very difficult situation.’       ‘Or maybe you should be handed world domination on a silver platter? I don't believe a single word from any Dalek!’ The Doctor answers coldly and adds with obvious jealousy, ‘I won't take. You. On board. My TARDIS.’       ‘Unwiiise.’       I turn away and go right up to the rail, look at the clouds and demonstratively turn my back to the enemy.       ‘You have seven standard Earth minutes to change your mind.’       Ah, varga’s tail! I'm screwed if I can't talk my way into this time racist. Was the speech calculated incorrectly? Was the deliberately introduced colloquial elements of the expanded vocabulary not enough to interest The Doctor? Should I increase the number of idioms he understands? He turns and walks towards the TARDIS… It’s time for me to recount the ammunition, activate the weapon and decide how long I can hold out in this building against our assault squad. Or go with backup plan. The main thing is not to get panics. Oh, here comes the first warning signal from my radar.       ‘Six standard Earth minutes.’ I say casually after him. ‘My sensors have identified the sound of a battleship entering the atmosphere. I'm not going to expose myself as a target. If you don't take me, I'm going into the building and trying to hide in.’       This makes him stop and choke. Of course, hostages is a bad tactics, but The Doctor has some idea of ​​what a Dalek warship could do to a skyscraper like this. Why bother with the city? Hmm. Knowing our scope, with the continent right away...       ‘There are people here!’       ‘I don't care about the inferior life forms and their problems. I have five standard Earth minutes left to live, and I will live them the way I presume is right. I'm leaving.’       I blow the door open with a gamma pulse and go into the corridor. In order to irritate my worst enemy, on whom my priceless outershell now depends, I begin to recite the cheerful words of the battle chant of the spacetroopers. I wonder why it always makes these bipeds nervous?       ‘Exterminate, exterminate, exterminate all living forms…’       ‘Wait!’ The Doctor runs after me and grabs my outershell under the stunned gaze of the electrician who jumped out at the noise. So, it will be my hostage. I immediately point the emitter hand at the little man.       ‘Any word about trash cans, plungers and mixers, and you will be exterminated. Doctor, you won't take me on board? He will be exterminated. Exterminate and rejoice!’       A dull groan is heard above my head signals.       ‘Damned nasty Dalek…’       ‘Say something constructive, because we only have three minutes left.’       ‘I can't believe you! Just! Can’t!’       ‘I’m not forcing you to believe.’ Yes, I am.       ‘What threatens my friends?’       ‘I’ll tell you on board your TARDIS.’       ‘Are you still bargaining?’       ‘My life depends on your decision.’       ‘I’ll never take a Dalek in my TARDIS!’       ‘I stated my terms.’       ‘What exactly threatens my friends?’       ‘Have I tell you a cock-and-bull story?’       Well, if he doesn't fall for that “cock-and-bull” either...       A dull growl answers me. All right, time is short.       ‘We have one and a half standard Earth minutes left.’       I shoot in despair a wall near the electrician's ear. The fire safety system reacted immediately and uncountably. I don’t mind in my outershell, and wet inferiors are funny, a fire alarm always adds to their panic. Such a wonderful shooting gallery could turn out!.. Now I don't give a damn, but, if necessary, I can turn an entire building into a blazing hell, without any special forces, just with myself. The Doctor knows that.       ‘Okay, okay, okay, to hell with you!’ He says finally. ‘Just don't shoot at people.’       It sounds offensive.       ‘There is a logical inconsistency.’ I say with a grimace. Any Dalek would have felt it, but not such a bonehead person. ‘According to my data, you always say to humans that they are stupid inferior creatures compared with perfect you. Nevertheless, you are ready to protect them at any cost. You always consider the Daleks the most inferior of the inferior races, but, when you receive a direct request for help and an agreement to pay for it honestly, you provoke me into an open conflict. A problem, Doctor. Explaaaaain?’       The building begins to vibrate, barely noticeably, but then more and more strongly. A direct consequence of the ship's gravity engine. The Daleks are approaching.       ‘Not now, guy.’ mutters The Doctor. Well, he is bonehead enough to not feel my emotions, but to miss this too?.. However, what else to expect from a Gallifreyan bipedal lanky. The unconscious body of an electrician is flowing along the wall (weak nervous system, passed out with one short shot past. These humans are truly an inferior race!). If The Doctor wants to call me “guy”, I let him. Even in the neuter gender, as long as he can get my precious outershell out of here.       Meanwhile, the vibration has died down. It's all clear, there's a UFO hanging over New York, and the nasty little people are filming it with anything they can get their hands on.       ‘They're scanning the surrounding areas, looking for me.’ I say as calmly as possible. ‘It will take ten to fifteen standard Earth seconds. Then they will open the fire.’       ‘Run.’ The Dalek worst enemy's favorite word.       Considering how he runs back to the balcony, he has a good idea of ​​what's going to happen here. I know it too: a sea of ​​blood, mountains of meat, burning plastic and toxic smoke, screams and groans of the dying people. How funny! And so much fried protein... However, fried meat is harmful for my health.       Thinking like this, I accelerate at full speed after The Doctor before he changes his mind. The open section of the route is in direct line of sight from the ship. There it is, I even see it. And I also notice the sighting circle flashing on me. Red. This is their last code warning. Damn it, they are going to fire a tactic nuke with automatic targeting at me! They will destroy a quarter of city down, but I will already be completely indifferent. The deads usually are indifferent. The blue box must be registered with Daleks as a space-time transport vehicle: the Doctor has already annoyed us a couple of times, not counting that day when Oswin Oswald, or whatever her name is, committed her sabotage. The Daleks will now realize the fact that I am rushing straight there. Oops, they realized it. But oops, I'm already at the door, you won't catch me, you’ll never catch me, aaaah, I’m stuck, damn it! This jerk didn't open the second door! At the last moment I feel a tug on the manipulator hand and I fly into the disappearing TARDIS with a crash and roar.       ‘You saved me after all, Doctor.’ I say almost in surprise, trying to adjust the gravity engine and rise from his weakly twitching body. The first attempt fails: the room shakes violently, the sensors show a very slight jump in radiation. Obviously, the pursuers launched the nuke, and it even caught up with TARDIS, it dived into the time gap after us. Pff, it would have been better if it had hit the skyscraper, it would have been a good lesson for the Predator for its stubbornness.       Finally, I cope with my positioning. The Doctor lies on the floor in the pose of a crushed lizard, straightens his bowtie and looks at me as if he saw me for the first time.       ‘Wow. A Dalek in my TARDIS! No, I’m not drunk as a skunk! I don't drink at all!’       He jumps up from the floor and rushes to check the condition of the front door. I give him way, moving slightly aside. He rushes around and pour out a stream of emotions about the scratched doorframes, meantime I study the opened distances, compare, contrast and try to understand… By Mother Radiation… how does this crap work?! If there is a universal garbage dump anywhere, it is on the TARDIS console. I understand nothing!       ‘So?’ is heard right above my audioreceptor.       ‘I don’t understand the meaning of your question.’       ‘Where is the classic phrase?’       ‘Explaaain.’ I lower the weapon again. For my purposes, it will no longer be needed.       ‘Well, “It’s bigger on the inside!” and all that?’       ‘It was logical to assume. We also have transcendental time machines.’       The Doctor’s face shows a deep disappointment, which gives me a lot of pleasure. Much pleasure will be ahead, when I’ll train my new colloquial dictionary on him.       ‘Let's get back to the general question. You saved me, so now it is my turn. When we still remembered you, we sought ways to take revenge on you in our own manner. I hope you understand that "we" is the Skaro nation, and not a specific club of specially chosen haters of The Doctor.’       ‘Hey, guy, speak either faster or shorter!’       How dare he interrupt me, especially when I'm doing my best to formulate sentences in a manner he understands?! Inhale, exhale, pull yourself together, my darling. Try to build a dialogue further.       ‘The Daleks have found a way to… settle… scores. When you part with associates who have traveled with you through space and time, you usually do not visit them and do not take them on new journeys. Therefore, they can be removed and replaced with duplicates. And the originals can be sent… as far as the photon flies a couple of years.’ Another dumb inferior idiom works as expected, a new portion of bewilderment flashes in my enemy's eyes, and he finally stops trying to interrupt me. ‘You do not even guess about it, because you do not invite them on board the TARDIS and do not subject them to deep scanning. Although your miracle screwdriver would be enough. Your associates disappeared, duplicates took their place and lived their lives, with a copy of their memories and a perception filter, so as not to reveal them during a medical examination. You didn’t even suspect it. The Daleks could only rejoice at a good joke. We paid a high price for it, because our time devices are not as perfect as yours. Anyway, it was worth it. The Daleks had time to enjoy their revenge before their memories were erased.’       ‘I don’t understand the logic!’ The Doctor says. ‘Why take revenge in such a way that I wouldn’t notice?’       ‘Scratch your brain, and you’ll understand. Sooner or later you would have noticed.’ I weave the pseudopods and pseudohands more comfortably. ‘Then you would have noticed again. And again. Then you would have understood what was what, but wouldn’t have found your associates. They are hidden too well. And you would have disappear forever trying to save them.’       As The Doctor slowly understands of what I'm saying, he turns whiter and whiter until he's the same color as the corridors of my hometown.       ‘Then, are you serious?’ He asks in a voice that makes me suddenly afraid for my life again.       ‘No need to lie to you. You can direct the time machine to some forgotten associate and test him by your screwdriver. Don't forget to adjust for the presence of a powerful perception filter.’       ‘I’ll do that. For now, stand here.’ He points his finger at the place next to the ladder. ‘Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you, you prudently didn't tell me what happened to my friends in the end. But I won't let you hang around my TARDIS either.’       As if I need it, I think with proud and stand where I'm told, already suspecting a force field. And so it is, an energy cap immediately covers me. At least I'm further away from the firing squad. While this noisy Predator is running around checking my information, I can get some rels of sleep. I haven't closed my eye for a day, before that I slept in fits and starts for about ten days. I'm on my last pseudopods, because the Dalek increased brain activity requires a quality rest. My outershell will effectively stand by instead of me. If anything, it will wake me up.       All right, Doctor, knock on the armour when you're done. Someone, whisper a lullaby to the poor tired Dalek. Okay, I'll tell myself anything for the night. ‘Though there’s one motor gone, We can still carry on…’ Z-z-z-zz-zzzzz…