Doctor Who: Festival of Death: 50th Anniversary Edition (32 page)

‘I make it 215, sir,’ said Byson. ‘Including ourselves, we’re still one person short.’

‘One person,’ said Rochfort, dragging his eyes away from the blackness. He aimed his torch beam down the corridor.

There she was. Huddled behind a wall column; the young girl. He could hear her whimpering. As the light fixed on her, she stepped out and screwed up her eyes. Her cheeks were wet.

‘Byson,’ said Rochfort, nodding towards her.

Byson walked slowly towards the girl and squatted down. ‘Hello.’

‘I don’t want to go,’ she said. ‘Don’t want to.’

‘You don’t want to go into the future?’

‘No. I want my mum.’

Rochfort coughed impatiently. ‘Byson, you’ll have to take her in yourself.’

‘Sir,’ said Byson. He grabbed the girl by the wrists and hoisted her
into
his arms. She gave a shriek and struggled against him, but his grip was firm.

Byson carried her to the brink of the darkness. His uniform fluttered, as though caught by a soundless wind, and the girl continued to wriggle against him. ‘Goodbye, sir,’ he said.

‘Yes, Byson.’ Rochfort saluted him. Byson acknowledged the salute and stepped backwards into the darkness. The girl gave a startled scream and then the shadows consumed them.

Alone, Rochfort approached the blackness. He could hear the constant whooshing of the interface, like the rush of blood in his ears. The voice thanked him. It said it was grateful to him for bringing it the passengers. And then it asked him to step inside.

‘No,’ said Rochfort. ‘You come out here.’

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Romana and the Doctor ran down the short, nondescript section of passage, and turned right into the corridor that ended in darkness. There, on the brink of the interface, was Rochfort. He appeared to be talking to something within the shadows. He was shaking his head.

‘We’re too late,’ sighed Romana. ‘They’ve all gone in.’

‘Apart from our friend Rochfort,’ the Doctor said. ‘I wonder what he’s up to.’

Romana tried to hear what Rochfort was saying, but he was too far away. Instead, she detected an electronic sobbing. It seemed to be coming from all around them, a constant, low snivelling sound.

‘Doctor,’ said Romana. ‘What’s that?’

‘Oh, that’s ERIC,’ whispered the Doctor. ‘He’s having a bit of a personality crisis.’ He beckoned to Romana to follow him down the corridor.

‘You’ve got everything you asked for,’ said Rochfort, with more confidence than he felt. ‘Come out here. Then I’ll know I can trust you.’

‘You know you can trust me,’ rasped the Repulsion. ‘But I will not leave my domain.’

‘Then I will not enter,’ said Rochfort. This entity thought it held all the cards. But it had not given him the respect he deserved. It had to be made to realise that he was the one in control.

‘You have already surrendered your crew and passengers,’ said the Repulsion. ‘Do you not care what happens to them?’

‘No. No, I don’t.’

‘I will not leave my domain. You can remain here to die.’

‘So the woman Romana was right,’ said Rochfort. ‘It is all a trick. You are using us.’ He folded his arms. ‘Well, you won’t use me.’

‘It is not a trick.’

‘Then come out here. Prove that I can trust you.’

‘Very well,’ said the Repulsion. And it emerged from the darkness.

The Doctor and Romana halted. There was a disturbance in the interface, the surface rippled, and a creature glided out into the corridor. A small, metal, dog-shaped creature. Its ear radars whirred, its control panel flashed and its eye visor burned a fierce, malevolent shade of red.

Romana gasped. ‘K-9!’

‘Is this sufficient demonstration?’ chirped the Repulsion.

Rochfort looked at the ridiculous box-creature, and laughed scornfully. So this was the Repulsion. About as threatening as a child’s toy. It was hysterical. All that power, all that greatness, all contained in something so pathetic.

‘Is this sufficient demonstration?’ it repeated.

Rochfort nodded. The Repulsion revolved on the spot, its engine motors whirring, and returned to its domain. Still giggling to himself, Rochfort followed it into the blackness.

As K-9 and Rochfort were engulfed the Doctor and Romana rushed up to the brink of the interface. ‘Doctor. That was…’ said Romana.

‘I know.’ The Doctor dug into his pockets and pulled out his crumpled jelly-baby bag. He tossed it into the blackness. It was swallowed up, then there was a sudden fizzling and the interface
flickered
and flashed. ‘Aha. The geostatic stress levels have increased.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It’s no longer a gateway into the Repulsion’s domain. It’s reverted to being an unstable hyperspatial interface. Any unprotected matter that attempts to enter now will be completely destroyed.’

‘“Disintegrated to its component subatomic particles”.’

‘Disint… Exactly. Nothing can get through there and survive.’

‘But K-9 was in there –’ Romana turned, and gasped.

‘Yes,’ mused the Doctor. ‘You know, according to Hoopy, this was the gateway into the afterlife. I wonder, I wonder…’

Behind him, there was a scuttling sound.

‘Doctor…’ said Romana urgently, pulling on his coat sleeve.

The Doctor adopted his booming quotation voice. ‘“Into the jaws of death, into the mouth of…”’ He turned to face back down the corridor, and his voice dropped to a croak, ‘… “hell”.’

In front of them, completely blocking the passageway, were five Arachnopods, their eyes hungry and blood red. As one they scurried forward, their pincers snapping. ‘Eats!’

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

‘EATS!’

Romana glanced back up the corridor. The Arachnopods were advancing, hissing hungrily, their mouths open. ‘Doctor,’ she cried, ‘Do something.’

‘Right,’ said the Doctor. He stared at the Arachnopods, then back at the interface, and then at Romana. ‘What would you suggest?’

‘I don’t know!’

‘No, nor do I.’ The Doctor boggled, pointing back and forth. ‘If we go that way we’ll be disintegrated, and if we go that way… Of course! Romana?’

‘Yes?’

‘We’re trapped!’ The Doctor grinned.

Romana sighed. ‘I can see that.’

‘But I can’t die here,’ said the Doctor archly. ‘I have to die in the necroport.’

‘I don’t think the Arachnopods appreciate that, Doctor.’

‘No, they probably don’t. Interface, Arachnopods. Arachnopods, interface.’ He jumped on the spot, struck by inspiration. ‘Aha! ERIC!’

>
Leave me alone
.

‘ERIC, I want you to do something for us.’

>
Go away
.

‘Now, now ERIC…’

>
What is it you require of me?

The Doctor guided Romana to one side of the corridor, a few metres from the interface. He placed her hand on the rail fixed to the wall and whispered, ‘Hold tight.’

Looking up the corridor, Romana saw that the Arachnopods
were
getting nearer, snapping at each other in competition to reach them first. ‘Eats! Eats! Must have eats!’

She gripped the handrail. ‘Doctor, what are you going to do?’

The Arachnopods surged forward in a mass of scuttling limbs.

The Doctor clasped the rail on the other side of the corridor, and shouted, ‘ERIC! Rotate artificial gravity ninety degrees!’

>
If you insist
.

The floor twisted away from beneath Romana’s feet, and she found herself lying flat on the wall. To either side of her, where the walls had been, were the carpet and ceiling. She looked up. Directly above her, hanging precariously from the opposite wall, was the Doctor.

The Arachnopods continued to advance.

‘Whoa!’ The Doctor struggled to get his breath. ‘ERIC.’ He pronounced each word loudly and clearly. ‘Not! That! Way! The! Other! Way!’

>
Oh, I can’t do anything right, can I?
ERIC said wretchedly.

Suddenly the wall rotated again, and Romana screamed. Now she was hanging from a vertical pole. Her hands were slippery and the rail was smooth. She wouldn’t hold on for long. She swung her feet forward and managed to rest the tips of her shoes on a protrusion in the wall panelling.

The corridor had literally turned into a shaft. On the other side, the Doctor swung from his handrail. He looked back at her, his eyes bulging maniacally. He seemed to be almost enjoying himself.

Below them the Arachnopods scrabbled for a grip on the walls, but failed to find any purchase. As one, they dropped, disappearing into the distance with ear-splitting screeches. There was a heavy crash as they hit the bottom of the shaft.

‘Romana,’ shouted the Doctor. ‘Now comes the difficult bit.’

‘The. Difficult. Bit?’

‘ERIC, reverse gravity 180 degrees!’

‘What?’ screamed Romana. ‘No –!’

It was too late. For a moment, she found herself falling through space, her hands twisting round on the rail, and then she slammed
into
the wall. The sudden pull of her body-weight against her wrists was agonising, but somehow she held on.

Beneath her was a black, oily pool, its rim flickering with a blue light. Its surface undulated. The hyperspace–real-space interface.

‘Hold on!’ yelled the Doctor.

From high above them there was a deafening screech and a clattering sound. Suddenly, from out of the darkness, the five Arachnopods fell into view, grabbing randomly at the air, their eyes wide with panic.

Romana pressed herself back against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut as the Arachnopods dropped past her. There was a fizzling, whooshing splash and the creatures’ screaming fell silent.

Romana looked. Below her, the interface swelled and rippled. It had swallowed up all of the Arachnopods.

‘Restore gravity orientation to normal!’ gasped the Doctor.

The corridor swung around once more. The handrail became horizontal again, fixed to a wall, and below her was the floor. Romana fell gratefully on to the carpet.

Recovering her breath, she pulled herself into a sitting position, nursing her hands and wrists. The Doctor sat beside her. ‘Well, it worked,’ he announced. ‘Nothing like a nice game of bagatelle.’

Romana looked at him with cold disapproval. ‘Doctor.’

‘Yes?’

‘Never, ever do that again.’

‘The Mystery of the
Cerberus
,’ boomed the Doctor. ‘“Not a soul in sight, alive or dead.”’

Romana followed the Doctor into the observation lounge. The redirected gravity had heaped the chairs and tables against one wall and showered them in broken glass. The TARDIS was half-buried beneath the wreckage. ‘So they all escaped into the future?’

‘Well, the ones who weren’t eaten by Arachnopods, yes.’

‘And in a couple of days’ time, the emergency services will arrive to find an empty ship.’

‘Yes,’ said the Doctor. He pulled at the wreckage, to clear a way to
the
TARDIS. ‘And all ERIC will be able to say is that it was his fault.’

Romana sniffed, and joined the Doctor. ‘It seems such a waste.’

He nodded and threw a chair to one side.

‘Doctor,’ said Romana. ‘You know we saw K-9 down there.’

‘Yes?’

‘He was being controlled by the Repulsion.’

‘Yes.’ The Doctor levered the final table away from the TARDIS. ‘Well, it was using him as a vessel for its consciousness. Sorry, you were saying?’

‘Do you think there is a chance that K-9 is still alive, somewhere inside the realm of the Repulsion?’

The Doctor pulled his who-knows face.

Romana turned away, thinking to herself. ‘But how did he get here? I mean, K-9 hasn’t been thrown into the interface yet, so how can he be here now?’

‘The Repulsion’s realm is in another dimension.’

‘Of course! “A reality outside time and space”,’ said Romana. ‘But if the Repulsion is using K-9 to cause what happens in the future and then, later on, because of what happens in the future, K-9 is thrown into the interface…’

The Doctor completed Romana’s thought. ‘A self-originating time loop?’

‘But that’s impossible.’

‘Is it? Why?’ The Doctor tilted his head indignantly. ‘Why is it impossible?’

‘Because something cannot cause itself to happen. The notion is ridiculous.’

‘If you say so,’ said the Doctor. He held the police-box door open for Romana. ‘But in my experience just because something is ridiculous, it isn’t necessarily impossible.’

Romana pouted at him fondly. ‘Where to now?’

‘The necroport,’ sighed the Doctor.

‘But that means…’ Romana couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

‘I don’t think I can postpone it any longer,’ said the Doctor
ruefully
. ‘I’ve met everyone I’m supposed to have met, I’ve done everything I’m supposed to have done. There’s nothing else left to do. And besides, I want to know how I defeat the Repulsion, and I suspect the only way I’m going to find out is by actually doing it.’

‘But you’ll die!’

‘Yes, there is that, of course,’ said the Doctor. ‘But I don’t have any choice, do I? I mean, it’s already in my own past, and I can’t change that.’

‘First law of time travel.’

‘Quite. Yes, quite.’ The Doctor ushered Romana into the TARDIS and then, as she watched from the doorway, he shambled to the middle of the lounge.

‘ERIC’, he called.

>
It was all my fault!
whimpered ERIC. >
Arguments. All my fault. All my fault
.

‘ERIC, you saved our lives back there. I won’t forget that. You won’t remember me telling you this, but one day I will come back and repay that debt.’

ERIC continued crying.

‘Goodbye, ERIC!’ shouted the Doctor, and sprinted over to the TARDIS. Romana drew herself inside and the Doctor dived in after her, slamming the door shut.

Seconds later, the police box heaved itself out of existence. The sound of its engines hung briefly in the air, and then the silence closed in like a shroud. The observation lounge returned to its gloom. Devastated, still and dead.

‘Well, Vinnie,’ said Harken, his teeth chattering. ‘I think we’re going to die.’