Doctor Who: MacRa Terror (3 page)

A moment later he stepped out. Gone was the spick and span stranger who had gone in, and now there stood the Doctor as of old, his clothes in their familiar state of confusion, and everything about him as before – ruffled hair, crumpled jacket. Somehow even the shine had disappeared from his shoes.

He viewed himself in one of the many mirrors. ‘That’s more like it,’ he said with approval.

It wasn’t until a little later that the Doctor began to wonder why their hosts had gone to such lengths to entertain them. It was as though they had wished to divert their attention from something. He was only able to make guesses about their motives – and perhaps he was wrong. The little bits and pieces that he had put together in his mind did not add up to very much. But he guessed he must remain on the alert. Some sixth sense was warning him that what they had been allowed to see was not the complete story.

But then it seldom was.

From inside the Refreshing Department the Doctor could hear the sound of cheering.

‘They’ve got him!’ the shout went up.

He tried to move to the door, but Barney and his attendants made that difficult. They turned up the volume of the music, and the Doctor was hard put to hear anything else from outside. But he had a good idea of what was happening.

With his arms tied behind his back, Medok was being led in by the guards who were headed by Ola.

‘Get back, everyone,’ Ola ordered the crowd. ‘You can’t trust him. He’s violent.’

Someone called out; ‘I don’t understand. He’s an old friend of mine.’

‘But he’s not himself,’ Ola explained. ‘He suffers from delusions, doesn’t he?’

The Doctor recognised Medok’s voice as he replied, ‘I’m not the one suffering from delusions! It’s you! All of you. You don’t know what’s happening to you! What’s happening in this Colony!’

‘That’s enough, Medok,’ said Ola.

From where he stood, the Doctor could see the edge of the crowd. A man had pushed forward. ‘It’s me – Questa,’ he called over the heads of those around him, ‘Remember me, Medok, old man? We’re old friends. Tell us, what’s happened to you?’

‘You can’t reason with him,’ interrupted Ola.

They were about to move off when Questa shouted out: ‘Just a minute! He’s a great chap. As happy and bright as any of us. I want to know what’s happened... Medok! Tell us. What’s all this rubbish about you seeing things?’

‘It’s not rubbish, Questa, you fool!’ Medok replied. ‘I
do
see things! Because they are
there
to be seen. It’s
not
a delusion. Listen to me! There are things – horrible things!’

‘What things?’

‘Too monstrous to describe...’

‘It’s just as I said – he’s deluded,’ interrupted Ola. ‘Move on there!’

But Medok shouted above the noise.

‘There are creatures moving through this Colony at night. Infesting the place... Evil... Not like us. Not like any other animal...
Another
sort of thing...’

They were dragging Medok away and his voice was becoming fainter.

‘Medok! You can trust me,’ Questa called after him. ‘You’ve just been working too much, too hard! You’llbe all right when you’ve had a rest.’

The sound system boomed throughout the Colony: ‘Shift rest is over. Back to work everyone. We all depend on each other. The Colony needs you. Preparations are to be made for tonight’s reception. We must welcome the strangers.’

‘Another welcome?’ wondered the Doctor. Wasn’t this overdoing things a little?

‘Great,’ said Ben.

Questa’s voice could be heard outside, calling into the distance. ‘Did you hear that, Medok? A reception tonight? A Colony party! Why don’t you join in like the rest of us? Like you used to do? There’s a good chap.’

The voice over the sound system backed up this idea: ‘It will be fun for one and all.’

‘Fun!’ Medok shouted his defiance. ‘Right! You have your fun while you can! Before these
things
start crawling all over you.’

A chill ran through those who heard him.

Ola shouted, ‘That’s enough! Keep moving.’

The Doctor peered out. Medok was being taken into another part of the same building. He made a careful note before he rejoined his fellows.

‘Marvellous place you have here,’ said the Doctor as he moved away to take a look round. He was just in time to see one of the guards bolting a door at the far end of the corridor. A moment later, he took another look down the corridor and the coast was clear. He ambled down it slowly. Once he was outside the door he bent down to peer through the lock.

‘Can I help you?’

The Doctor straightened up sharply. One of the pretty girls watched him, smiling.

‘Oh no, thank you,’ he said innocently. ‘I thought I’d dropped something.’ As she left him he made a show of searching the floor.

The moment she was out of sight he unbolted the door and slipped in.

Unlike the sumptuous cubicles in which he and the others had received their treatments, this was a prison cell. Set high in the wall there was one small window which was strongly barred. Medok was standing on a bench trying to peer out. He turned to frown at the Doctor.

‘I see you’re still trussed up like a chicken,’ said the Doctor. He took a penknife from his pocket and flicked open the blade.

‘What’s the game?’ Medok was startled.

‘I’m cutting you free,’ the Doctor informed him blandly. He severed the cords which bound Medok’s arms.

‘There you are,’ he added. ‘Don’t bother to say thanks.’

He looked thoughtfully at the bewildered Medok. ‘Now tell me something. About these things you’ve seen. Do they, for instance, appear to move slowly over the ground? A sort of crab-like movement?’

Medok looked at him in amazement. ‘Have you seen them?’

‘No.’

‘Then how did you know?’

‘I just wondered,’ said the Doctor.

Medok lifted a warning finger. ‘Someone’s coming,’ he said.

‘Don’t worry. If I explain...’

‘You can’t do anything,’ said Medok grimly. ‘You don’t understand. There’s nothing anyone can do.’

He jumped from the bench and hurried to the door.

‘If you’d listen to what I have to say...’ urged the Doctor.

‘Save your breath,’ said Medok. ‘I’m getting out of here.’

He was out of the cell before the Doctor could stop him. He felt he could have helped the man, and making a dash for it like this would be useless. The Doctor was surprised to see Medok hurrying down the corridor and crossing the hall without being challenged. Obviously no one had expected a prisoner to escape.

But Barney saw him running for one of the exits, and he sounded every alarm he could lay his hands on. The Department echoed with the noise.

Guards raced up and down, checking first the empty cell as the Doctor stood a few paces away, vainly trying to get a word in. The place was suddenly packed with people. The Pilot arrived.

‘It’s not possible,’ he said incredulously. ‘Not again. What happened?’

‘No one knows,’ Ola told him. As Head of Security he was a very shaken man.

‘Someone must be responsible,’ insisted the Pilot.

The Doctor managed to make himself heard: ‘I told him not to worry, but he didn’t believe me...’

They crowded round the cell door. The Pilot picked up the pieces of cord. He couldn’t understand. ‘You?’ he peered at the Doctor. ‘You let him go?’

‘Not exactly,’ said the Doctor lamely. ‘I didn’t expect him to run off like that. I merely wanted a little chat.’

They looked at him as though he were mad.

‘He let the prisoner escape!’ Ola was in a fury. ‘That is a crime in this Colony! For that, men work in the Pit!’

‘The Pit?’ The Doctor was puzzled.

‘That’s enough, Ola,’ said the Pilot sharply.

‘Guards!’ shouted Ola. ‘Arrest him!’

There was a surge through the crowd, but it wasn’t the guards who surrounded the Doctor. Polly, Ben and Jamie pushed their way through to stand by his side.

‘You can’t touch him,’ Polly challenged. ‘He doesn’t know your laws.’

The Pilot looked at the four strangers. He was making a quick calculation. ‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘He
is
a stranger, Ola.’

‘What’s more,’ added the Doctor hopefully. ‘I merely set free a man we had caught in the first place.’

The Pilot nodded. ‘A reasonable point of view.’

Ola glared.

‘Nevertheless,’ went on the Pilot, ‘Medok is dangerous. The Colony will be terrified to think he is roaming about at night. Get your patrols to search for him, Ola. He can’t be far away.’

Ola marched away sharply.

‘Don’t forget,’ the Doctor called after him, ‘Medok
is
a man. He
can
move fast. He
can
run. He doesn’t have to
crawl
over the ground.’

That stopped Ola in his tracks.

‘What do you mean by that?’ asked the Pilot coldly.

‘Nothing. Nothing especially. Just that...’

‘Anyone who spreads that sort of rumour in the Colony will finish up in the Hospital for Correction.’ There was no mistaking the threat.

‘Is that why Medok was there?’ the Doctor asked innocently.

The Pilot took a deep breath. ‘I think you will understand more about Medok if you talk to the people who knew him best.’

‘Splendid!’ the Doctor beamed.

‘Take them to the Labour Centre, Ola. See they learn something about us.’

‘This way.’ Ola saluted the Pilot, and directed the Doctor to follow. Once outside Ola continued to stride smartly ahead; the others hurried to keep up with him. He was still very angry.

They went past a number of buildings, small office blocks or public buildings. There were a great many unfinished houses. Clearly this was an area of expansion. They crossed building sites, went along muddy roads, hard put to it to keep pace, while the Doctor trotted in their wake.

He even came to a dead stop at one point!

Polly was concerned. ‘Are you all right, Doctor?’

He could only nod. After all, it would have been imprudent to have told anyone that he had just seen the figure of Medok in the shadows of one of the unfinished buildings. Medok had ducked out of sight immediately. But the Doctor knew who it was. He had caught his eye, but the hunted man was sure that this very odd stranger would not betray him.

They followed Ola into a squat, solid building, crowded with young men and women. The noise of machinery was continuous.

‘The Labour Centre,’ said Ola. ‘The workers organise their own shifts.’

‘Very democratic,’ approved the Doctor.

The young people around them paid the newcomers little attention; they were absorbed in what they were doing. There was a total dedication about them all, sitting before machines, checking figures, referring to lists, activities which carne to a stop only when the huge screen lit up and the face of the Controller smiled down on them.

‘Your Controller speaking. There is no cause for alarm. You may all continue your work and your play, confident that the best is being done for you. But our unfortunate companion, Medok, has been allowed to escape. Emergency Patrols Two and Three are now searching for him, and he is sure to be caught before it is dark. Now return to your duties with fresh hearts and renewed energy.’

The picture faded and the screen darkened as the jingle of music began to play again.

‘Still out of sync?’ asked Ben.

‘Better,’ agreed the Doctor, ‘but it’s still a fraction out.’

The busy crowd had got back to work again.

‘I wish you to meet Section Leader Alvis,’ said Ola as he came through the crowd with a fair-haired young man. ‘He will answer any questions.’

‘First question,’ said Ben. ‘That chap who keeps bobbing up on the screens like that. Who is he? A blooming politician?’

‘As he said, he is our Controller. He brings us help and encouragement.’

‘Can’t be a politician then,’ Ben told him.

The Sound System came to life: ‘Number nine shift to stand by. Leader to report to the Labour Centre.’

Alvis turned to a speaker on one of the desks. ‘Work shift ready to leave,’ he replied.

The music blared loudly.

‘A nice wee tune,’ said Jamie.

Ben nodded. ‘If you’re happy at your work.’ It seemed to him that everything was geared to produce more effort.

The Doctor recognised the man who had called himself Medok’s friend. This must be Questa. He saluted Alvis smartly. ‘Shift leader reporting,’ said Questa. ‘Shift number nine, all present and correct.’

Could be back in the Navy, thought Ben, as Questa marched off.

‘What does everyone do?’ asked Jamie. He had been looking round. ‘I mean, what’s the actual work? Are you fishing or farming?’

Alvis looked grave. ‘We work very hard here.’

The Doctor moved in with interest. ‘Yes, but what
exactly
do you do?’

Alvis hesitated. ‘We tap and refine gas,’ he said.

‘For heating?’ asked Polly.

Ola waved his hand dismissively. ‘We use it for many things. The Colony depends on the work done here. It is absolutely essential.’

‘Gas,’ said the Doctor thoughtfully. He looked at the brightly-lit rooms. ‘That isn’t gas, is it?’

‘It is essential...’ began Ola sharply...

He broke off as a metal panel on one of the walls slid back.

Beyond was another world, and out of it staggered two young men, one of them holding the other upright. They were both covered with black stains, dirt, dust, and were giddy with exhaustion.

There was no panic in the Centre. It was as though a well-rehearsed process clicked into gear.

‘Stand by for oxygen,’ Alvis broadcast over the sound system. A team of young men and women were helping the two, adjusting breathing masks over their heads as they led them away. It was done with speed and proficiency.

‘Any other losses?’ asked Alvis.

Ola pressed a button on the instrument before them and read off the signal. ‘Two more with gas sickness,’ he said.

‘What happened?’ asked Ben, suddenly sobered. This was another side to the bright picture around them.

Alvis shrugged. ‘It is their work. It can’t be helped. An accident from time to time... But, as you have heard, it is essential. The work must go on.’