Read Dr. Who - BBC New Series 25 Online

Authors: Ghosts of India # Mark Morris

Dr. Who - BBC New Series 25 (19 page)

BOOK: Dr. Who - BBC New Series 25
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how do you move to and fro between here and your ship?

Transmat pod?’

Gopal nodded.

‘Mind if I have a look at it?’

‘Certainly, Doctor,’ said Gopal. ‘Would you help me move this table?’

Gopal and the Doctor lifted aside the low table on which the tea things stood and placed it against the wall.

Beneath the table was a red and green rug, which Gopal rolled up, revealing a neat, hinged square in the wooden floor. He produced a key, unlocked the trapdoor and raised it. In the gap between the joists was a small hidey-hole.

Donna caught a glimpse of various neatly stacked alien artefacts – boys’ toys, she thought. There were things made of brushed black metal, studded with dials and switches and flickering green lights. Gopal extracted a device like a miniature rugby ball, which he handed to the Doctor.

‘Ooh, nice,’ the Doctor said.

He took a moment to familiarise himself with the array of controls set into the top of the device, then produced his sonic and pressed its glowing blue tip to different parts of the device, hmming and ahing as he did so.

Finally he switched the sonic off and grinned at them.

He was about to speak when the air shimmered in the centre of the room.

Next moment, four gelem warriors were standing there in a diamond formation, their backs to each other, facing outward. Instantly they raised their hands and began to advance on the room’s six occupants.

 

Donna tried to make a break for the door, but the gelem warrior closest to it was too quick for her. She changed direction, and backed towards the open doors leading on to the balcony, wondering whether she’d be able to jump to the ground below without breaking any bones.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw everyone else taking evasive action – everyone except Gandhi. As the Doctor pressed himself up against the wall and the boys dived behind items of furniture, Gandhi simply sat in his chair, refusing either to fight back or run away. Donna saw him looking up with an expression of serene curiosity as a gelem warrior reached out for him.

 

The cavern was vast and stifling, condensation dripping from the roof. Aside from a few small fires, the makeshift prison was lit only by a red, crackling barrier, which encircled the hundreds of people clustered within it.

Already Adelaide had seen one man stretch out a hand to the barrier, only to be blasted unconscious for his trouble.

She scanned the dirty, sweaty faces of her fellow captives, some of whom were weeping in fear, some stunned with shock, some simply staring resignedly into space, and wondered whether she was in Hell.

How long she had been here she wasn’t sure. It seemed like for ever, but was probably no more than a couple of hours. At frequent intervals, the air would shimmer and the chalk-men would appear with more captives. Together with Edward, Adelaide had taken it upon herself to try and

reassure these often terrified and confused people, acclimatise them to their new surroundings. It was exhausting work, but by keeping busy she was at least able to prevent herself from indulging in her own fearful thoughts.

She was trying to calm a little girl, who had been separated from her parents at the camp and was wailing in fear, when a voice called, ‘Adelaide? Is that you?’

She looked over her shoulder, and to her joy and despair, saw Ronny making his way through the throng towards her. He was dressed for dinner, but his white shirt was streaked with sweat and grime, and he had a smudge of dirt on his cheek. His stiff collar and neatly knotted tie looked incongruous, almost comical, in these surroundings.

Adelaide jumped to her feet and flung her arms around him. ‘Oh, Ronny!’ she cried. ‘Not you too!’

‘Afraid so,’ Ronny said. ‘Can you believe, those awful creatures actually came in to the house? The sheer cheek of it!’

‘Who else—’ Adelaide began, and then over Ronny’s shoulder she saw her father and mother and a solicitous Becharji trying to struggle their way through the grimy mass of humanity.

‘Oh no,’ she cried despairingly, ‘not
all
of you.’

‘All but Cameron, I’m afraid,’ said Ronny. ‘First the blighters took Father and I, then they had the gall to go back for Mother and Becharji.’

‘My dear Adelaide,’ Sir Edgar said, and with an uncharacteristic show of affection gave his daughter a

hug. ‘Ronny said he’d spotted you. I told him he was seeing things.’ He mopped his brow with a grubby handkerchief. ‘What is this hellish place?’

‘Not a clue,’ Adelaide said. ‘Are you all right, Mother?’

Mary Campbell had a lace handkerchief pressed to her nose and a look of distaste on her tearful face.

‘What a silly question,’ she said in a shrill, strained voice. ‘Of
course
I’m not all right. How
can
I be all right, crammed into this appalling place with all these… these people.’

Suddenly all the fear, confusion and anxiety of the last few hours rose up in Adelaide and came bubbling out of her.

‘Is that all you can find to worry about, Mother?’ she snapped. ‘The fact that you’ve been forced to mix with people you consider below your social standing? Because, like it or not, we’re all in this together. We’re all living, thinking, feeling human beings – and we’re
all
scared.’

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then, quite unexpectedly, her father nodded.

‘Quite right, my dear,’ he said gruffly, and patted her shoulder. ‘Quite right.’

*

As Donna pressed herself back against the wall, she was vaguely aware of the Doctor stepping forward, the rugby ball device in his upraised hand. He fiddled with it for a second, and suddenly crackling tendrils of yellow-white light erupted out of it.

Like jittering electric serpents, the tendrils of light sought out the gelem warriors. Donna watched as one

tendril latched on to the centre of the chest of the creature menacing her and formed the fizzing outline of a circle.

Immediately, all four warriors began to jerk and spasm, like a group of men struck by the same bolt of lightning.

They twitched grotesquely for a few moments, and then simply keeled over, as stiff and expressionless as mannequins.

The Doctor switched the device off. For a second, nobody moved.

Then Ranjit asked, ‘Are the half-made men dead?’

‘They were never really alive,’ the Doctor replied, and absently tossed the rugby ball device across to Gopal. He produced his sonic screwdriver again and held it up.

‘Better tweak the frequency on this. It’s like a homing beacon for them.’ He fiddled with the controls for a moment. ‘There we go. That should fool ’em for a bit.’ He dropped to his knees beside one of the lifeless forms, pressed the sonic to its chest and turned it on.

To everyone’s amazement there was a hissing noise and a circle of rubbery white flesh rose and swivelled on a sort of flap. Nestled within a cavity beneath was a flattish silver disc, shimmering with light, that reminded Donna of a hockey puck. Another zap of the sonic and a trio of claw-like metal catches sprang open, enabling the Doctor to reach in and free the disc from its housing.

‘What’s that?’ asked Cameron. ‘Its heart?’

‘Matter relocator,’ said the Doctor.

‘Didn’t you say the coordinates on that would take us straight into the holding area?’ said Donna.

The Doctor nodded and turned on his sonic again. ‘But

if I make a slight adjustment…’ He tinkered for a moment, then sat back. ‘Job’s a good ’un. All aboard who are coming aboard.’

They all looked at each other. Donna said, ‘You’re not going without me, sunshine,’ and grabbed the Doctor’s arm.

Gopal took Donna’s hand. ‘And I cannot allow you to fight my battles for me.’

Gandhi too rose from his seat. ‘Curiosity is a terrible curse,’ he said sadly. ‘I really should not give in to it.’

Then he smiled, and grasped Gopal’s other hand.

‘If you’re going, Bapu, I am coming too,’ cried Ranjit, and attached himself to the human chain.

Cameron looked terrified, but he grabbed his friend’s arm. ‘I’m not going to be the only one left behind,’ he said.

The Doctor grinned, as if they were about to embark on the most thrilling funfair ride ever.

‘Stand clear of the doors!’ he bellowed. ‘Here we go!’

Cameron was aware of a sickening sideways lurch as the room dissolved around him. There was a horrible sensation of his surroundings rushing by at such speed that it was impossible to focus upon a single detail. His stomach rolling with nausea, he closed his eyes and clung tightly to Ranjit’s hand. He dreaded to think what would happen if he let go.

‘We’re here.’

The Doctor’s voice popped the build-up of pressure in his ears. Cameron couldn’t believe how cheerful the

Doctor sounded. He opened his eyes to find himself standing on a rocky slope leading up to a craggy range of hills. The sky above was deepening towards dusk, but it was not yet too dark for Cameron to make out the cave openings that punctured the forbidding mass of bare and jagged rock above them. Some of the openings were taller than a man, whereas others might have proved a tight squeeze for a rabbit, or even a snake. Beyond each of the cave openings Cameron could see nothing but blackness.

‘That was rough,’ Donna said. She was leaning forward, hands on knees. ‘Dunno about you lot, but I think I’m gonna hurl.’

‘Deep breaths,’ the Doctor said. He held up the sonic and frowned. ‘Though on the other hand…’

‘What is it, Doctor?’ Gopal asked.

‘This whole area is steeped in zytron energy. The leakage is getting worse. Though on the plus side, it’ll make Darac-7 easier to find. Come on, let’s not hang about.’

He strode up the slope as if out for an afternoon yomp.

Gopal and the boys hurried after him.

‘You all right, Mohandas?’ Donna asked.

Gandhi was looking around at the barren landscape, eyes gleaming like an excited child’s. ‘Oh yes,’ he breathed. ‘I am struck with wonder.’

‘You get used to it after a while,’ Donna said, and then realised that the throwaway remark was not really how she felt. She linked arms with the little man. ‘Actually, you don’t. You never get used to it. That’s why it’s so amazing. Before I met the Doctor, I never realised there

was so much to see.’

‘Come on, you two!’

The Doctor had already reached the top of the slope.

‘What you doing?’ he called. ‘Having a picnic?’

Donna rolled her eyes at Gandhi and together they hurried up the slope. By the time they reached the Doctor, she was gasping for breath, but Gandhi seemed as fresh as ever. Not for the first time, she was struck by how spry and sinewy the little man was.

‘We’re not all descended from mountain goats, you know,’ she said, trying not to pant.

‘No, not like on Istervaal,’ the Doctor replied absently.

‘Evolution didn’t half take a funny old turn there.’

Abruptly he clapped his hands, like a teacher on a field trip. ‘Right, gang, here’s the plan. Once we’re inside, we’ve got four objectives. One, put a stop to Darac-7 –but leave that to me, I’m brilliant at that sort of thing; two, find the holding cells and release the prisoners; three, keep an eye out for a big blue box, cos that’s my TARDIS and it might turn out to be our only way out; and four, back home in time for tea and crumpets. Everybody happy with that? T’riffic. Off we go.’

He led the way forward, and marched without hesitation into one of the larger cave openings. In his right hand he brandished the sonic, which glowed like a tiny torch, bathing the rocky walls in cold blue light.

For the next fifteen minutes, the motley group moved through the narrow tunnels, the Doctor leading the way like a tour guide. They progressed mostly in silence, though occasionally the Doctor would mutter, ‘This way,’

 

or ‘Left here.’ At one point there was a clunk and the Doctor looked round at them, rubbing his head. ‘Careful,’

he said ruefully, ‘the roof’s a bit low just here.’

A couple of minutes later he said, ‘Whoa,’ and came to an abrupt halt, spreading his arms.

Donna was just behind him. She stood on tiptoe to peer over his shoulder. ‘What is it?’

Then they heard it – a rapid, intermittent scuttling from the darkness ahead. Cautiously the Doctor extended the sonic, but the blue light couldn’t stretch more than a few feet.

‘Hang on,’ he said, and next moment he had a penciltorch in his hand. He turned it on and shone it into the pitch-black tunnel.

‘Oh my God,’ breathed Donna.

BOOK: Dr. Who - BBC New Series 25
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