I pause. Seething. Only, of course, Normon can’t see that. I pause a bit more. Then...
'Has he thought up a name yet?'
Normon reddens even more. 'The last one was "Metaltron", I heard.'
'Metaltron?!' I exclaim. 'Oh, for f***’* sake! That’s not even an anagram!'
~~~
I have a top.
At last. Normon’s sorted the velcro. Arguably, I should show a little gratitude.
But, you know, I can’t. I’m irritable. I used to be happy-go-lucky. When I was a lollipop man, I was happy-go-lucky. Now... just irritable.
It’s being jelly, I think. No legs, no arms, no body to speak of. Just a lump of jelly, a few tentacles, and one eye. Can piss you off, that sort of context.
And an itchy back, and no way to scratch it. Just to add to it. Tell me... wouldn’t you be just a teency bit irritable too?
But, I have a top. Not the Mark 3 one – Davro needed that for something else. A teasmaid or something, probably. A nice vase, that sort of bollocks.
Bloody Davro!
No, Normon’s found an old Mark 2 top. And he’s fluffed up the pillows a bit, stuck it on the legs, gave it a quick paint, and here I am. No more jar for me – woo hoo!
A few problems, course. Can’t control the legs properly from in here, for one. Wheels, these legs have got, not a hover unit. And the engine just grinds a bit and then stops. Doesn’t go anywhere.
And it’s not easy to see, either. There’s only one eyehole. Yes, I know I’ve only got one eye, but there’s no reason to make it worse by having me peer through what looks like a long shiny loo roll.
My vision is impaired. I mean, totally trollied. It’s rubbish.
I’ve got arms of course. One long one that I can use to unblock loos, and a short one that I think is for whisking eggs. Course, can’t reach either of ’em with the other one. And I can’t actually see ’em through this bloody tube, neither. So I’m just guessing.
But if I concentrate on the smaller one… think really hard… make it do something…
Stuff me, that was loud. Where’s the wall gone?
'Bloody hell, Kaled Daev!' I hear Normon panic. 'Stop waving your gun around!'
Gun? Davro’s given me a gun?! No eyesight, no way of seeing where you’re going other than straight ahead – but here, have a gun that’ll take walls out if you think too hard. What could possibly go wrong?
'Try this,' says Normon. 'It’ll help make up for the tubular vision thing.' He holds something up in my field of view: a small, blue ball with wires sticking out of it.
'What is it?' I ask. 'A new eye?'
'Not exactly,' says Normon. He places the ball on the dome of my Travel Machine and suddenly...
'That’s incredible!' The world has come alive! I am aware of everything around me, in perfect clarity and with more colours than you could shake a frond at. 'I can see properly again!'
'Well, not exactly "see",' explains Normon. 'It interfaces directly to your olfactory lobe. You’re more sort of... smelling.'
'You mean, that’s what the lab... smells like?'
'Yeah,' says Normon. 'I guess.'
'And what’s that...? oh, You haven’t!'
Normon colours.
Davro comes in. Hovering. He’s wearing my old Mark 3 legs like a wheelchair. They look – smell! – good on him. Better than the leather trousers ever did, anyway, the ponce.
'Leave us, Kaled Normon,' Davro orders. Normon backs out of the room again.
Once he’s gone, Davro floats over to me. He looks my new casing up and down appraisingly. 'My creation,' he says with pride. 'The saviour of Skaro. I name you...'
'Let me guess,' I say. 'Is it "metaltron"?'
'No,' spits Davro. 'It is not "Metaltron". The word "Metaltron" was Nyder’s idiotic suggestion. My creations, my… children, shall take a corruption of our own name, Kaled. Just as their bodies are corruptions of our Kaled bodies.'
'Right,' I say. 'Back to anagrams again, then.'
Davro ignores me. 'You are Daev,' he continues. 'But no longer "Kaled" Daev. No! From this day forth, you shall be known as the first... of the Dakles!' He peers at me. 'What do you think?'
What do I think? Dakles? DAKLES?! WHAT DO I BLOODY THINK?!
And something’s happening. I feel it inside of me. An impossible rage, building and building. Wave upon wave upon wave of fury, pushing up and up and up until...
...my custard explodes.
You know, I never knew I could do that. Custard everywhere. The lab... well, it’s covered in the stuff.
And so is Davro.
I think he’s got some in his eyes.
~~~
I wake up, sitting in my Travel Machine, to darkness.
'Normon?' I call out. 'Where are you, Normon?'
'I’m here, Kaled Daev,' Normon’s voice comes out of the darkness at me.
'Why caN I Not… see?' Ooh. My voice is getting more mechanical all the time, more and more broken. Weird.
Normon sighs. 'You can see,' he says. 'You just can’t smell anymore. The Great Scientist has taken your olfactory augmentation unit.'
He’s right, I realise. The tubular view is still available to me - I'd
just been ignoring it because the smellyvision was so good. But it’s not
there anymore: the blue ball has gone. 'Why? Why has he tak… en iT?'
'You got custard in his eyes,' says Normon. 'Really old custard. He got another infection, and decided to gouge his own eyes out. Then he couldn’t see, so he took the unit.'
'You got custard in his eyes,' says Normon. 'Really old custard. He got another infection, and decided to gouge his own eyes out. Then he couldn’t see, so he took the unit.'
Great. 'So now he can sense his surr…ound…ings, But I can…not?'
'Seems like it,' says Normon. 'Looks a bit weird though. No eyes, just a little blue ball on his fore...'
Normon breaks sharply for some reason. But inside me I can feel the rage mounting again, and I can’t stop myself. 'Bloo… dy… Dav… ro!' I shout metallically.
I hear Normon make a sharp intake of breath. Which can only mean… ah, sod.
'He is be... hind… me, is… n’t he?'
'Oh…boll...ocks.'
I hear the sound of a set of Mark 3 Travel Machine legs hovering, and a glowering, eyeless Davro hoves round into my tubular view. He scowls at me.
'My name,' he says at length. 'Is Davros.'
I swivel my head to look at Normon. Normon looks at me. We both look back at the Great Scientist. What?
'Not Davro,' he says. 'Davros. With an "s".'
I don’t know what to say. All this time, everything he’s done for me… and we haven’t even got his name right.
'Sor… ry… Great… Scientist,' I say, embarrassed.
Davro – Davros! – sniffs. Then he abruptly turns away and heads for
the door. 'Kaled Normon,' he says as he leaves. 'Prepare the experiment
for presentation to Nyder and the Council. It is time to go public.'
And he’s gone.
Normon tries to do Davros's slightly suspicious salute. It looks a bit camp, to be honest, but at least he doesn't hit himself in the side of the head this time.
'Come on, Kaled Daev,' he says. 'Let’s show you off.'
I rev my engine and try to move. It's still not working. I go, maybe, a hand's-soan forward - but then the legs grind to a halt again.
Normon sighs. 'All right, I’ll push,' he says. He gets behind me,
braces himself against my Travel Machine’s back, and shoves me out the
door.
Normon pushes me on, up the corridor. To the Great Scientist Davros,
and Nyder, and the Council, and my fate. But there’s something that’s
been bothering me.
'Nor… mon?' I ask.
'Yes, Daev?' he replies.
'Why does dav… ros keep one hand stuck in... side the legs like that?'
'I’ve been wondering too,' says Normon. 'The boys at the depot think he’s got a secret kitten in there.'
I ponder on this for a bit. Although, course, there’s a more important question.
'Nor… mon?'
'Yes, Daev?'
'Has he thought up a name for me yet?'
We stop. Normon walks around into my field of view. I can almost hear the cogs turn as he works out whether or not to tell me.
'Yes, Daev,' he says at last. 'Yes, he has.' He leans up to my head
unit, and whispers the name Davros has chosen for me into my flashing
ear.
'Really?' I say. 'It’s a bit dull, isn’t it?'
'Yes,' says Normon, 'it is, a bit.' And he smiles at me, and I think a
smile back at him. Then he goes back round, and pushes me some more. We
trundle.
Up ahead, I can see the Council Chamber, with my destiny inside it.
Normon stops again, and we stare at the doors together. They’re black.
Modern. A bit crap, to be honest, but then, there’s a war on.
'You ready then, Daev?' Normon asks after a while.
'As I’ll ever be,' I answer.
'All right,' he sighs. 'Let’s get this over with.'
He braces himself again, and pushes me forward up the corridor, towards
those scary, rubbish doors. But there’s something I have to say to him,
one last thing, and I have to say it to him now. It has to be now, see,
cos he won’t be coming with me. Nothing from my old life will. It’s the
end, innit?
'Nor… Mon?'
He doesn’t answer immediately, this time. We just keep trundling.
But when he does, there’s a slight catch in his throat. I wonder if he’s
feeling the same as me, and the words won’t quite come? Cos things
changing forever can do that to you, with or without custard. But
eventually, as he pushes me through the modern, black doors, which only
get stuck once, and on into my future... eventually, he manages.
'Yes, Daev?' he asks.
'Just... thanks, Nor… Mon. For everything.'
'You’re welcome, Daev,' he says.
THE END
written by
NIC FORD
copyright 2013
artwork by
COLIN JOHN
copyright 2013