Doctor Who: The Edge of Destruction (6 page)

‘So? What do you suggest we do?’

‘Simplicity itself, Chesterton! We see what’s outside the Ship!’

5 ‘Like a Person Possessed’

When Barbara had returned to Susan’s room her former pupil seemed to be sleeping peacefully. A good sleep was exactly what the girl needed, reflected Barbara. Susan had always seemed more sensitive than her other pupils; recent events had obviously shaken her up quite a lot. Her attempted attack on Ian was merely a symptom of her inner turmoil and frustration.

Barbara sat at her bedside, checking her pulse from time to time and ensuring that everything was all right with her charge. On a table the oil lamp which Ian had lit still cast eerie shadows on the wall.

The rhythmic in-out in-out sound of the Ship’s life support system which seemed to have replaced the normally ubiquitous humming of the TARDIS’s machinery, was vaguely soporific and Barbara found herself beginning to nod off to sleep.

A sudden noise awoke her with a start.

Barbara was alert in an instant, her nerves tingling. By her side Susan had sat bolt upright in bed, her hands still hidden underneath the covers. Barbara smiled with more than a little relief, chiding herself for her nervousness.

‘How are you feeling now?’ she asked.

Susan looked at her strangely. Perhaps she was still slightly concussed, thought Barbara.

‘I’m fine,’ the schoolgirl said slowly. ‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

‘Susan, you do remember who I am, don’t you?’ Barbara asked. Susan’s voice sounded oddly clipped; for an awful moment it reminded Barbara of the staccato emotionless tones of the Dalek creatures they had encountered on the planet Skaro. She was suddenly very worried.

‘Of course I remember who you are,’ the girl continued in the same flat monotone. ‘You’re Barbara.’ Barbara’s brow furrowed with concern as she registered Susan’s unfamiliar use of her first name. Up till now Susan had always referred to her, in her presence at least, as Miss Wright, retaining some of the teacher-pupil respect which had been encouraged at Coal Hill. Her sudden use of the name Barbara unnerved the schoolteacher.

Shrugging off her vague suspicions, Barbara felt Susan’s forehead. Her temperature was still uncommonly high. She crossed over to the dressing table where, by the oil lamp, Ian had placed a bowl of water. She dipped her large handkerchief into it, squeezed it of any excess moisture and then returned to Susan. ‘Put this on your forehead, Susan,’ she said. ‘It’ll keep you cool.’

‘Why?’ asked the girl. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. There’s no need to cosset me like I was Tiny Tim or something.’

‘Who?’
Barbara asked sharply.

‘Tiny Tim,’ repeated Susan. ‘He was the young cripple in Charles Dickens’
Christmas Carol
.’

‘I didn’t think you knew any Dickens,’ Barbara said slowly. She suddenly remembered something Mr Foster the English teacher had once said to her that girl Foreman, brilliant in some respects—she can recite quite huge hunks of Shakespeare as if she really knew him. But she’s never even read a word of Dickens!

Susan flushed and Barbara imagined that she had somehow upset the girl.

‘I—I must have heard Grandfather talking about him sometime... He’s very well read, you know...’

Barbara looked at Susan suspiciously. The abrupt changes of mood, the violence, this piece of knowledge... was this really Susan she was talking to, or... She shuddered at the thought of the alternative.

Like a person possessed
, Ian had said. Barbara tried to humour her. ‘Of course there’s nothing wrong with you, Susan,’ she said. ‘You just need a rest, that’s all.’

Susan seemed to acquiesce and sank back down onto her pillows. Suddenly she sat back up again, and clutched Barbara’s arm. ‘Where’s Grandfather?’ Her voice had suddenly changed: no longer was it emotionless and cold; there was no mistaking the concern in it.

Barbara loosed herself from Susan’s grip, and replied. ‘He’s checking the controls with Ian—Mr Chesterton.’

Susan’s face seemed to relax and then she said, ‘Why did you ask me if I knew who you were?’

‘It’s just that before you seemed to...’ Barbara felt embarrassed, unsure of how to answer the girl’s question. How do you tell someone that you suspect they’re losing their grip on reality?

Susan continued to stare at her in an odd way. Underneath the covers Barbara was aware of Susan’s hands fumbling with something.

Barbara held out her hand. ‘Susan, why don’t you give me the scissors?’ she said with gentle firmness.

Susan drew her hand out from under the pillow and pointed the instrument threateningly at Barbara.

‘Susan, give them to me!’ Barbara commanded in her best schoolmarm voice, the voice which used to strike terror into the hearts of class 1C.

The girl seemed to hesitate but still pointed the scissors at Barbara. Her hand was trembling. In this nervous state Barbara realised she could be capable of anything. The schoolteacher tried a different tack. ‘Susan, what is all this about?’ she asked softly and reasonably.

‘You said there had been a power failure,’ she began.

Barbara corrected her. ‘No, I didn’t. I said that’s what Ian thinks.’

‘I don’t believe you,’ Susan continued. ‘You lied to me.’

‘Lied to you? What are you talking about, Susan?’

‘I overheard you and Mr Chesterton. You said there was something in the Ship, something you didn’t want me to know about...’

Realisation suddenly dawned for Barbara. ‘I see—you just overheard a few words and you—’

‘No,’ interrupted Susan.
‘You lied to me. You cannot be trusted.’

‘We wouldn’t do a thing to hurt you, Susan,’ insisted Barbara. ‘Surely you know that by now?’

‘No. You’re frightened of us, Grandfather and me. You’re different from us. How can we know what you’re thinking, what you think of us?’

‘Susan, don’t you see it’s the same for all of us? You and your grandfather are as alien to us as we are to you. Maybe there are times when we don’t know where we stand with you; yes, maybe there are times when we are frightened of you, uneasy and uncertain. I know we’re all unwilling fellow travellers, and the only thing Ian and I really want to do is go home. But, Susan, we’re all in this together whether we like it or not and we have to learn to trust each other. Besides, why should we hurt you and your grandfather? Without the Doctor how can we ever hope to return to Earth in our own time? We might not understand you all the time, but we need you. Can’t you see that? Why should we ever try and hurt you?’

Susan lowered the scissors slightly as she considered Barbara’s words. Taking advantage of her hesitation, Barbara darted forward, and wrenched the scissors from Susan’s hand.

For a few brief moments Susan struggled, hitting at Barbara with her fists in frustration. Then she burst into tears, falling into Barbara’s welcoming arms.

Sitting on the edge of the bed Barbara comforted Susan, holding her in her arms and rocking her back and forth like a little child. After a few minutes Susan’s weeping subsided and she raised her tear-stained face to look at Barbara. There was no need for words; Barbara recognised the contrition in Susan’s eyes; but she also saw the terror.

‘Barbara, what’s happening to us?’ Susan sobbed. Susan’s use of her first name no longer upset Barbara.

‘I really don’t know, Susan. We’re... we’re all just a little upset, that’s all. But don’t worry. Your grandfather will find out what’s wrong with the TARDIS soon, and then we’ll be on our way.’

Susan nodded, and then looked around her room. On the bedside table the oil lamp was flickering low. ‘I’ve never noticed the shadows before,’ Susan said. ‘It’s usually so bright... But in these shadows there could be anything... there are parts of the TARDIS which even I haven’t explored properly yet...’

‘Don’t be silly, Susan,’ Barbara chastised gently. ‘You’re tired and you’re letting your imagination run away with you. There’s nothing to be afraid of in the dark.’

‘It’s so silent in the Ship,’ continued Susan. ‘Apart from the breathing.’

‘The breathing?’

‘Listen—the life support system. Its just like someone breathing, isn’t it?’ she said darkly.

Barbara hushed her. ‘We’re imagining things, we must be.’ Susan looked at her oddly, almost challenging her to provide an explanation. ‘Let’s be logical about it, Susan,’ continued Barbara. ‘I mean, how could anything get into the Ship anyway?’

‘The doors were open,’ Susan reminded her. ‘In spite of what Grandfather says, they were open.’

‘But where could it hide?’

‘In one of us.’

Barbara shivered as Susan expressed her unvoiced fear. They had all been behaving oddly; could it be that some unknown alien intelligence had penetrated the TARDIS’s defences and possessed one of them?

Once again she remembered Ian’s words:
like is person possessed
.

‘Don’t be silly, Susan,’ she said weakly. ‘We must stop talking like this. Can you imagine what the Doctor and Ian would say if they heard us talking like this? They’d laugh at us. There must be a rational explanation.’

‘But supposing there isn’t a fault...’ wondered Susan.

‘You must be clairvoyant!’

Barbara and Susan turned nervously round to see the figure in the open doorway who had come upon them silently. Each of them breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that it was Ian.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Susan.

‘We’ve just checked everything and according to the Fault Locator the TARDIS is functioning perfectly,’ he explained and then looked at Susan. ‘How are you feeling now?’

‘I’m all right... What’s my grandfather doing?’

‘That’s what I came to tell you both. As there’s nothing wrong with the TARDIS he’s decided that the only fault must lie outside the Ship. He’s going to turn on the scanner.’

Susan’s face blanched in terror and she leapt out of bed. ‘No! He mustn’t! He mustn’t!’ she screamed and ran out of the room.

Susan burst into the control room where the Doctor was about to move to the central control console to operate the scanner.

‘Don’t touch it!’ she cried.

The Doctor stopped and looked at his granddaughter curiously. ‘Are you all right, child?’ he asked.

‘Yes, Grandfather,’ she replied and indicated the control console. ‘I tried to touch it before and it was like being hit...’

‘Hit?
Hit where?’

‘The back of my neck hurts,’ she explained.

The Doctor nodded sagely. ‘Rather like mine, in fact...’

Ian and Barbara had entered the control room to hear the final part of this conversation. ‘Funny it didn’t affect me and Barbara like that,’ said Ian.

The Doctor looked at him strangely.

‘No, it didn’t, did it?’ His voice was full of suspicion. He considered the two schoolteachers warily and then beckoned Susan over to his side.

Susan considered her grandfather’s words and then regarded Ian and Barbara through narrowed, suspicious eyes. ‘Yes... Grandfather’s right. Nothing did happen to you, did it..?’

‘What are you implying, Susan?’ asked Barbara sternly. ‘Surely we’ve just gone through all this?’

The girl didn’t reply. Sensing Barbara’s unease, Ian put a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

‘I must discover what is outside the Ship,’ the Doctor determined and, ignoring Susan’s warning, he approached that part of the console which contained the scanner controls. Gingerly he operated a small lever, and jumped back, as though expecting a shock of some kind. Nothing happened.

He looked back at Ian. ‘Well, I didn’t get a shock this time, did I?’ he said meaningfully.

‘What are you trying to say, Doctor?’ asked Ian but before the old man could reply Susan turned their attention to the scanner screen set high in the wall.

The scanner lit up, casting an eerie light around the control room, and an image began to resolve itself on the screen.

The picture was one of a pleasant wooded landscape of oak and birch trees. Beyond them gently rolling hills rose up to a brilliantly blue sky, flecked with wisps of snowy white clouds. Over the audio circuits they could hear the sound of birdsong.

So convincing was the image that Ian and Barbara could almost taste the country freshness in the normally antiseptically clean air of the TARDIS.

‘That’s
England
!’ Barbara said delightedly, and pointed to the hills in the distance. ‘Look, those are the
Malvern Hills
! I used to spend my summers there as a child!’

‘Well, what are we waiting for?’ asked Ian, his disagreement with the Doctor suddenly completely forgotten. ‘Open the doors and let’s see for ourselves! I don’t know what’s been going on, Doctor, but it looks as though you’ve brought us home!’

The Doctor considered Ian and Barbara’s eager faces and then turned back to the scanner. The schoolteachers frowned as they sensed his puzzlement.

‘What’s wrong, Doctor?’ Barbara asked, and felt her heart sink.

‘This is all very curious,’ the Doctor muttered and pointed to the picture on the scanner. ‘That can’t be what’s outside the Ship.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Ian.

‘Use the intelligence you were born with, Chesterton!’ he said irascibly. ‘Look at the clouds, the trees. Not one of them is moving—it’s merely a photograph!’

As the Doctor spoke those words the doors to the TARDIS suddenly opened and the control room was filled with a searing white light.

‘Close the doors!’ commanded the Doctor as he covered his eyes from the glare.

Ian moved towards the light but as he did so, the double doors closed of their own accord.

‘You see,’ said Barbara to the Doctor. ‘We were telling the truth before. They did open by themselves. You saw us: neither of us touched the controls!’

‘Look!" said Susan and pointed up at the scanner. ‘There’s another picture now!’

The picture of the
Malvern Hills
had vanished and had been replaced by one of an alien jungle, full of enormous and weird barbed plants. In the background impossibly huge mountains towered into a savagely orange sky; the cries of wild and ferocious beasts echoed around the control room.