Doctor Who: Paradise Towers (9 page)

I’m probably being silly.’

Tilda and Tabby made no comment. But that was hardly surprising. Their minds were quite elsewhere. Wondering whether that delicious little Mel would ever come back to see them again.

It was the high point of the Chief Caretaker’s day. He was going to visit his pet. After the Deputy Chief’s bungling, he deserved a treat. He had taken the special Mark UT Service Lift down to the Basement and he was walking along the long familiar dark basement corridor to where his pet was kept. Others might have found the slimy corridors unwelcoming or even alarming. The Chief Caretaker, however, was used to them and hummed to himself as he went.

His humming stopped all of a sudden. Lying on the grimy floor in front of him was something he did not understand. It was an item of clothing. It had once belonged to a Red Kang.

And it was bloodstained. The Chief picked it up to examine it more closely. Caretaker number 345 stroke 12 subsection 3 he remembered. The last of the Yellow Kangs he remembered. But a Red Kang? He had had nothing to do with that.

He took the scrap of cloth and marched purposefully on. He would have to have words with his pet. Explanations were in order.

As he approached the end of the corridor, heavy studded doors flew open. From the room inside billowed clouds of smoke. The Chief was used to what lay beyond the door but it still roused in him feelings of awe. Through the smoke he could see the two fiery red unblinking eyes that were all that was visible of his pet, his pride and joy, the chief resident of the Basement.

‘Hello, my pet, how are you?’ The Chief’s voice was jaunty but the red eyes were unnervingly bright and piercing today.

‘Did you enjoy your nice Caretaker?’

He listened carefully. His pet usually communicated through a dull mechanical throb. It always reminded the Chief of the waste disposal units fitted in all the flats in the Towers.

When he had first made the acquaintance of his little treasure, the Chief had heard nothing in its throbbing but simple mechanical sounds. Now he could often make out words. Or, at least, what sounded like words. It might be his imgaination, of course. It might simply be that he had got more used to interpreting the noises his pet made. Or, as the Chief believed was most likely, his pet was starting to grow and develop. And with that development came a voice. It spoke now.

‘Hungry...’

‘Hungry!’ the Chief was almost indignant. ‘You can’t be.

Daddy’s always made sure you’ve had a good supply of what you need. Daddy’s the Chief Caretaker – that’s his main job.’

‘Hungry.’ The throbbing voice was growing in power. The Chief had to take the initiative now before things got out of hand. He held up the scrap of Red Kang clothing.

‘While we’re on the subject, Daddy’s not too pleased with you. Now I didn’t send you this little snack, did I?’ He waved the bloodstained cloth in front of the flashing eyes. ‘I mean, the Cleaners don’t do things like that without orders from someone.

And it wasn’t me.’ The Chief’s voice took on a pleading tone. ‘So who was it? Now tell Daddy.’

There was no reply. Even the demand to be fed was momentarily stilled. There was just a low throbbing. The lack of response was too much for the Chief and he finally snapped. ‘If you don’t tell Daddy who’s been feeding you behind his back, I won’t give you the Great Architect to eat.’

‘Hungry!!!’ There was a sudden angry roar and the throbbing voice returned even more powerfully than before. Its power was indeed rather terrifying.

The Chief began to feel for the very first time that he was out of his depth. This was no ordinary pet any more. It had a will and hunger of its own.

‘Hungry!!!’

‘All right, all right.’ The Chief was conciliatory now. He could feel his eyelid starting to twitch with tension and he was trying very hard to control it. ‘You’ll get the Great Architect just as soon as I can catch him again.’

‘Hungry!!! Hungry!!!’

The voice was bellowing now and the Chief was practically deafened. His pet was not normally like this. If only his darling would confide in Daddy all would be well. Or would it? The Chief was no longer sure. This hunger seemed beyond his control. Perhaps beyond anyone’s control.

The feeling that all was not as it should be in Paradise Towers hit the Chief again with a still more devastating force.

6

The Doctor’s eyes opened. He had no idea where he was or how he had got there. For the moment his surroundings were a blur.

He waited for them to get clearer.

‘Build High for Happiness, Doctor!’

The voice was familiar. And the face too now that the Doctor had managed to focus on it. It belonged to Bin Liner. She was peering down at him with an amused expression on her face.

And next to her the Doctor made out the face of Fire Escape.

Crossbows at the ready, he noted, even in his fuddled state.

The Doctor sat up, still rubbing his head, and started to look about him. It was gloomy but the Doctor could make out several rows of bunk beds, piles of food and supplies, a stack of crossbows. And a whole line of Red Kangs standing just a little way off, eyeing him warily.

‘What’s happened?’

‘You dropped down, Doctor,’ Fire Escape replied. ‘Whoosh into our Brainquarters.’ She paused. ‘Where is the girl who is not a Kang?’

‘I only wish I knew,’ sighed the Doctor. He got to his feet, brushed himself down and replaced his hat firmly on his head.

No bones broken, he noted thankfully. He was starting to feel better already. ‘Fire Escape, Bin Liner,’ he continued cheerfully,

‘I never expected to see you again. Still less did I expect to be glad to see you again. But I’ve got to go. There’s much to be done.’

He knew he was being optimistic believing the Red Kangs would let him go just like that. It was worth the try nevertheless.

But his optimism was not to be rewarded. Kang crossbows were raised and pointed.

‘No way.’

‘No ball games. No flyposts. No outgoing.’

Bin Liner studied the Doctor carefully. ‘Why you here?’

‘It’s an accident,’ the Doctor replied. ‘I was being chased by two Cleaners and –’

‘Cleaners?’ Fire Escape tensed visibly.

‘Yes,’ the Doctor answered. ‘I expect they’ll have gone by now.’

‘Check for safe and sure on the talkiphone.’ Bin Liner nodded and went over to the talkiphone. To the Doctor’s surprise this one too was like a large drinks dispenser such as were common on Mel’s Earth. But he had more immediate problems than finding out how it worked. While Bin Liner was punching out a code and listening for the report of Kang Eye-Spy, he had a cluster of Kang crossbows still aimed at his person.

‘Do I get the impression I’m not believed, Fire Escape?’

‘Cleaners make Kangs unalive.’

‘Oh, do they now?’ The Doctor’s eyes gleamed. ‘Why don’t you tell me about it?’ But Fire Escape dropped her eyes, avoiding his gaze. Once again, he was up against the wall of silence that seemed to hem him in at every turn in Paradise Towers. The Doctor had had enough.

‘What is the matter with everyone in the Towers?’ he demanded. ‘I simply don’t understand it. I mean, the Cleaners go round killing people and carting them off and no-one does anything to stop them. All you Kangs do is draw wallscrawls on the subject all over the place. And the Caretakers are no better.

They allow themselves to be killed off without saying anything just because there’s nothing about it in their precious rule book.

I happen to know that because I’ve read it.’

His words finally had an effect. Fire Escape’s jaw dropped and she stared at the Doctor wide-eyed. ‘You mean, there’s a wipeout of Caretakers as well?’

‘Don’t tell me you don’t know,’ the Doctor mocked, pushing his advantage. ‘I mean, what is going on?’ He reached for his pocket book and flourished his sketches under Fire Escape’s nose. ‘What, for example, is behind that door belching out smoke that you Kangs are so keen on painting pictures of, eh?

Any ideas? Or is that simply just another mystery?’

Fire Escape was spared the embarrassment of replying because at this moment Bin Liner had put down the talkiphone and was ready to report. But the Doctor knew he had rattled the Kangs. There was at least a chance that, carefully handled, they might start to trust him enough to take him into their confidence.

‘Cleaners were in the carrydoor. With sprinkle gas. There no more.’

The Eye-Spy’s report made everyone relax. The crossbows were lowered and the Doctor no longer under immediate threat.

But rather than pressing on too quickly with his investigations and losing the Kang’s confidence again, the Doctor took a more devious path. He asked if he could take a look at the talkiphone.

Bin Liner nodded agreement but watched warily as the Doctor approached the machine.

The Doctor smiled secretly. His impression had been correct. There was even a label reading ‘Fizzade’ on the front.

‘You know, you really are very stupid for such clever people,’ he continued as he took in the Kang’s ingenious telephone technology. ‘If I were you, I’d find that door that belches smoke and discover what’s behind it. Because, until you do, we’re all at risk – you, me, Mel, everybody.’ The Kangs said nothing but he knew they were taking in what he was saying.

‘This is really a splendid piece of auditoryarchitechnotonical metrosyncosthopy,’ the Doctor added casually, almost as an afterthought, holding up the talkiphone receiver.

‘It works,’ Fire Escape replied warily.

‘However, you probably haven’t realised that this machine has another purpose.’ The Kangs eyed him suspiciously. The Doctor reached in his pocket and pulled out one of the coins he had discovered by the Emergency phone upstairs.

‘Incidentally,’ he remarked, ‘yet another Paradise Towers mystery. The coin reads “issued by the Great Architect Kroagnon”. I only wish I could place the name. And what has happened to him since he finished this building? No one seems to know.’

But he sensed the Kangs were waiting for his experiment with the talkiphone. Speculation would have to wait. He inserted the coin in the rusted slot in the drinks machine, selected

‘Orange Fizzade’ on the selector panel and pressed the ‘Deliver’

button. He just hoped the machine was still in working order or else his little performance to impress the Kangs would fall rather flat.

The machine started to judder and rattle. The mystified Kangs instinctively backed away in alarm. The Doctor, however, held his ground. And, to his considerable relief, a bright orange can of Fizzade clattered out of the machine and into his waiting hands. He pulled off the metal tab and took a long swig. It was actually very good orangeade and, after his recent mishaps, very refreshing. He took another swig.

The Kangs still held back but were undoubtedly impressed.

He offered the can to Bin Liner. She hesitated at first, but, having seen the Docor drink first, decided to take the risk. She took a small sip and the others gathered round to see the result.

She liked what she tasted and quickly gulped some more.

‘Icehot, Doctor,’ she announced approvingly.

Then all the Kangs wanted to drink and the Doctor was kept busy feeding the machine with coins to keep them supplied with further Fizzade. There was an air of relaxation, almost celebration, in the Brainquarters. The Doctor’s ploy had paid off. They would trust him more now he felt. And respect his skills.

‘Icehot!’ The cry went round the group as they drank. The Doctor had achieved something potentially very valuable, but, for the moment, the big unanswered questions about the Towers would have to wait.

‘So you still haven’t discovered where the Great Architect has got to?’

‘No, Chief.’

‘And you have no idea of his whereabouts at all?’

‘No, Chief, unless –’

‘Unless?’ The Chief was back at his Headquarters now and taking out his growing anxiety about his pet on the cowering and sweating Deputy Chief.

‘Unless he was taken by the Cleaners.’ The Deputy brought out the words reluctantly, barely able to bring his eyes to meet those of his superior.

‘Don’t be absurd.’ The Chief was sharp and dismissive. He had to be if the Deputy didn’t start getting hold of ideas that could create considerable problems for the Chief’s relation with his subordinates. ‘You are overlooking one very obvious possibility.’

‘What’s that, Chief?’

‘The Wallscrawlers, of course,’ the Chief snapped. ‘They’ve been getting very bold of late and making fun of authority.’ He made a sudden decision. ‘Summon all available Caretakers. We are going to start a 45D Section 3 Security Search.’

‘Yes, Chief.’

The Chief Caretaker’s bloodshot eyes glinted. ‘The 327

Appendix 3 Subsection 9 Death of the Great Architect must take place. And, besides,’ he added, ‘even if the Wallscrawlers don’t have him, it’s high time they were taught a severe lesson.’

A few minutes later the 45D Section 3 Security Search was under way. The Deputy had brought out the G9H Suspect Tracker, the pride of the Caretakers’ armoury of gadgets. An image of the suspect, the Doctor in this case, was given to the Tracker and the Tracker did the rest, tracing the wanted person through Paradise Towers until it had brought him to ground, wherever he might be hiding. The G9H Suspect Tracker, a considerable improvement on the G8H, had a very high success rate. And the Deputy needed success. He had no doubt who would pay the price if the Doctor was not found. He must not fail the Chief again.

In short, the Deputy Chief, backed by the G9H Suspect Tracker, drills, gadgets, weapons, and the toughest and strongest of the Caretakers, was on the Doctor’s trail.

‘Cooee! Care for a cup of tea?’

Mel gave a start. Since she had left Pex, she had been almost in a daze, taking turnings and choosing staircases without any real sense of where she was going. She had just hoped that persistence might change her luck. But surely that couldn’t be Tilda’s voice. She couldn’t be back at the Rezzies’ flat yet again?