Doctor Who BBCN17 - Sick Building

Home > Other > Doctor Who BBCN17 - Sick Building > Page 7
Doctor Who BBCN17 - Sick Building Page 7

by Doctor Who


  thundered into the sink, the microwave pinged madly and steam was churning out of the kettle.

  ‘Stop this at once!’ Tiermann roared, when he reached the doorway.

  It was as if he thought that everything would respond to the sound of his voice.

  Martha hurried over to Solin, who was trying to calm his mother.

  ‘It’s just a malfunction, Mum,’ Solin was saying.

  Silence!’ howled Tiermann. ‘You will all be silent for your master!’

  Amanda Tiermann struggled to control her panic. Her breathing slowed and she looked wildly at Martha and her son. ‘Everything is breaking down! Don’t you see? We depend on these things working.

  We can’t survive with malfunctions! We are going to die!’

  ‘Mum,’ Solin said, taking hold of her. ‘It’s nothing bad. Just a few malfunctioning –’

  But just at that moment Martha was staring out of the plate-glass windows into the garden. The ring of fire was still burning out there, but there was a bulky shape moving through the streaming flames, heading impossibly towards them. ‘Uh, Solin,’ Martha said. ‘This looks pretty bad, actually.’

  The creature put its head down and came charging through the fire.

  It tossed its huge ivory horn and thundered through the flames, arriving swiftly on the other side, and in the grounds of the Dreamhome.

  The bear-like creature roared its triumph and swung round to stare at the house. Its savage eyes fixed straight on Martha, Solin and Amanda, standing in the tall window.

  Martha jerked back at the sight of that sheer, animal greed.

  ‘They’re getting in,’ Solin whispered in a deathly voice.

  60

  The Doctor had been led to a secret exit, hidden away on Level Minus Thirty-Nine. Matter-of-factly, Barbara extended her telescopic arms and popped open the door, revealing a dusty and disused staircase. ‘Takes us down to Level Minus Forty,’ she said cheerily, ‘Home of the Domovoi, bless her.’ She and Toaster made as if to lead the way.

  The steps looked quite steep to the Doctor: his new robot friends were going to have a tricky time lowering themselves down.

  ‘Who is this Domovoi?’ he asked. ‘Another Servo-furnishing? Someone who can help us fix the lift?’

  ‘Oh, no, no, no,’ Toaster said, his bulbs lighting up the gloomy stairwell as he chuckled. ‘You make her sound so humble and common-place. Oh, but she isn’t. She’s a marvel, is the Domovoi.’

  ‘Let me explain, Doctor,’ wheezed Barbara, angling her bulk around a narrow landing. Several cans of pop inside of her had fallen free and they were rolling about and thunking against her sides. The Doctor wondered if that hurt her. ‘The Domovoi is a computer,’ she said.

  ‘But, to put it that way does her a great disservice. She is Tiermann’s finest creation. She is the spirit and heart and intelligence of the Dreamhome itself. She controls everything. She is amazing.’

  61

  ‘I see,’ said the Doctor. ‘I get it. Does she control all of you lot as well?’

  Barbara looked somehow uncomfortable. ‘Not all the time. She could if she wanted. All of our minds are linked, you know. But, like any decent goddess, she allows us to have free will. Isn’t that lovely?’

  ‘Lovely!’ grinned the Doctor, wishing fiercely that his friends could hurry it up. They’d only managed it down about ten steps as they talked. For all her ungainliness, Barbara was proving more nimble than Toaster. With every step the sun bed took downstairs, the Doctor was gritting his teeth: imagining the glass of his body shattering everywhere.

  ‘And will the Domovoi help us?’ the Doctor said. ‘She is Tiermann’s creation. Surely she will do his bidding?’

  Barbara looked at him very darkly. ‘Our minds are linked, Doctor.

  I have an inkling of what the Domovoi is thinking. And she isn’t best pleased.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Toaster. ‘Not at all.’

  Barbara went on: ‘She thinks Tiermann is about to betray us all.

  All of the Servo-furnishings. She has overheard him. She has eaves-dropped on his plans for the coming of the Voracious Craw. Whew.

  Would you mind if we took a breather, while I tell you what I know?’

  ‘Go ahead,’ said the Doctor, trying to be patient.

  ‘Do you want some more crisps? No? Well, she’s absolutely livid.

  She thinks Tiermann is going to leave us all behind. He has built more and more of the Servo-furnishings over the years. More than he ever needed, to do everything for his family. He gave us all intelligence, personality. And now there is no room for us in the spacecraft that will take him and his family to safety.’

  ‘It’s true,’ sighed Toaster. ‘There’s only enough room for the human beings. We’ve all checked. They won’t even be taking the robots that are still of use to them. Let alone us broken down, kronky old useless ones.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ said the Doctor.

  ‘We’re going to be left behind to face our doom,’ Barbara whispered, 62

  her husky voice turning shrill. ‘What kind of reward is that for a lifetime of servitude?’

  The Doctor had to agree. ‘It’s pretty shabby. And the Domovoi herself. . . Tiermann’s finest creation. . . she will have to be left behind as well?’

  Barbara nodded warily. ‘Yes. I think I’m ready to move on now.

  Come. We must go to face her.’ She turned to lead the way again.

  ‘You’re right, Doctor. The Domovoi is hardwired into the fabric of Dreamhome. She can never be moved. She is bound to die tonight.

  And that very thought is driving both her and her creator insane. . . ’

  Martha was the first to back away from the tall windows. She moved very swiftly across the shining kitchen tiles, kicking aside broken crockery. She called out to the others. They needed to move. The beast was obviously about to charge. But the Tiermann clan seemed frozen to the spot. They held their ground, as if amazed by the creature on the burning lawn.

  ‘Get back!’ Martha yelled at them. ‘Solin, tell them! We’ve got to move!’

  Even from this distance it was as if the bear-creature on the lawn could hear her. As if it could smell them all inside the protective walls of the Dreamhome. It threw back its massive head and gave a blood-curdling cry that seemed to set the very floor vibrating. This was enough to bring Solin to his senses. He grabbed his mother’s arm and bundled her back towards the hallway, where the lights were flickering again.

  His mother and father were struck dumb. His mother flopped her limbs like a puppet. The robots in the kitchen had ceased their point-less tasks and had gathered around Tiermann, who was still staring out at the brutish creature that had invaded his home.

  ‘Father, we must get away. . . ’ Solin shouted.

  ‘No!’ Tiermann bellowed. ‘This is my home! My domain! I will not be forced to flee from primitive beings such as this. . . thing!’

  Martha led the way. ‘Leave him, Solin. Come on.’

  ‘My Staff will deal with the intruder!’ Tiermann cried. He whirled 63

  to face the motley collection of malfunctioning kitchen robots. They gave a little jump at the sound of his voice. They were programmed always to respond to his ringing tones, and now, even with everything going haywire, Tiermann’s voice could still command them. ‘Kill the beast!’ he spat. ‘Protect the family!’

  Martha thought the robots looked pathetic, compared with the creature out there. She pulled at Solin and his mother again, urging them to rush, as the bear-like creature charged and flung itself at the kitchen windows.

  The room shuddered and Tiermann cried out. A great crack appeared in the glass. The creature drew back for another attempt. Its slavering jaws hung open and gnashed hungrily at the air. It was three times the size of Ernest Tiermann, but Tiermann stood there bravely and shouted back at it. ‘You have no place here! I built the Dreamhome to keep animals like you away from us! You will not get us now!’
<
br />   The creature thrust its unicorn-like horn right into the fractured glass and the noise was ear-splitting. The great glass wall came crashing down and the beast’s massive, coarsely haired body surged into the kitchen.

  Tiermann darted backwards. He urged his robots on. ‘Destroy it!

  Destroy!’

  The bravest robot – one whose sole employment thus far in its life had been to scrape root vegetables clean – trundled forward to face the beast. One great paw lashed out and – SMASH and CRUMPLE –the robot was reduced to scrap.

  The other two hesitated, but knew they had no choice. The tablet robot and the dishwasher went to meet their fate.

  Tiermann backed away quickly. ‘No, no, no, no. . . ’ He was pulling at his hair and beard madly, as if he could hardly believe that something had come into his home unbidden. He watched the screaming creature run its ivory horn through the medicine robot’s chest, and then he turned tail and ran, deeper into the house.

  He had to seal off this wing of the Dreamhome. He had to bring the emergency shutters down. He had to regain control of this nightmare.

  64

  But where were his wife and son? Had they left him here? Had they vanished and left him to deal with this alone?

  It felt very much like entering some holy inner sanctum. As the Doctor and his new friends at last arrived in the dimly lit recesses of Level Minus Forty, he was aware of a very strange atmosphere. Toaster and Barbara had become very quiet, and they were heading purposefully towards their goal, but with a measured and respectful tread. The ambience of the place made the Doctor want to take off his shoes and socks, or remove his hat (had he been wearing one) out of respect.

  Burning torches lit their way (but who lit them? Who else occupied this strange level?) and there was a musky smell of burning incense.

  One last pair of double doors greeted them at the end of the final corridor. They were covered with intricate designs in scrolling iron-work. Barbara turned to the Doctor and said, in a muted voice: ‘We are about to enter into the heart of Dream home. You must beware, Doctor. Hardly any softbodies are allowed to enter here. You must tread very carefully.’

  He blinked at her. ‘“Softbodies"?’

  Toaster harrumphed. ‘Barbara means organic beings, of course.

  She’s using Servo-furnishing slang.’

  ‘I keep myself nice and trim, I’ll have you know,’ the Doctor protested. ‘Softbody, indeed.’

  ‘You would find out how soft your body is,’ Toaster warned, ‘should the Domovoi decide to crush it.’

  The Doctor swallowed. ‘Erm, powerful, is she?’

  Toaster flickered with blue light. ‘She is the most powerful being on this world. She controls all.’

  The Doctor sighed. ‘Well, I always believe in taking your problems straight to the very top.’ He stepped forward briskly and, without further ado, threw open both doors. ‘Especially when the very top is at the very bottom, so to speak.’

  Barbara muttered another warning, about approaching with due reverence, but it was too late. The Doctor was marching into a wide and gloomy room. The walls and floor were a glossy metallic green 65

  and, at the far end of the room, there was what appeared to be a vast fireplace.

  ‘Wonderful!’ the Doctor cried, hurrying towards the blazing hearth.

  ‘What a superb feature!’

  His companions came clattering across the floor after him.

  The flames in the grate roared and burst forward, as if they could grasp the Doctor up and burn him to cinders where he stood. They were a strange, lambent green.

  The Doctor jumped back smartly. ‘Aha, mind the suit,’ he grinned.

  ‘Doctor. . . ’ Barbara said nervously. ‘This is, erm, this is the Domovoi. The spirit, heart and hearth of Dreamhome.’

  The flames flashed and darted with seeming relish. They danced and held the three visitors entranced for a few moments. Then, two black eyes appeared in the midst of the incandescent fire. And a great black mouth opened up. A huge and mournful voice rang through the murky air: ‘Who have you brought here? What is the softbody? What does he want?’

  The Doctor could feel Barbara shaking beside him. The cans were rolling about and thunking against her innards. Toaster’s blue bulbs were sparking repeatedly in nervousness. The Doctor decided he had best speak up for himself. ‘Forgive me if I don’t shake hands, Domovoi.

  May I say what a treat it is, to meet a computer made out of fire?

  That’s just brilliant. Quite brilliant.’

  ‘What do you want, softbody? Where is Tiermann? Why is Tiermann not here? I want Tiermann to come to me!’

  ‘Ah,’ said the Doctor. ‘I can see why you might want to see him. I’m sorry that I’m not him. I’m the Doctor, by the way. I’m just passing through. I saw the danger approaching this world, and we popped in

  – my friend Martha and I – to see if we could be of help. . . ’

  Barbara had mastered her nerves somewhat. Her electronic voice still quavered as she said, ‘That’s good isn’t it, Domovoi? He came to help us. The Doctor wants to help.’

  ‘Pah!’ roared the flames dismissively. ‘What use can he be to us now? Too late! It’s all too late! We have been living in a fool’s paradise. And the name of that fool is Tiermann. He led us to believe 66

  that we would be here for ever! This was our home. We would be a family for ever.’

  The Doctor found himself buffeted back by the blasting heat of the Domovoi’s wrath. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I need to get back to the surface.

  Tiermann has trapped us down here. He’s going to leave us here, while he and his family escape in their ship. Now, our only hope –your only hope – is with me. You must get the elevator working again

  – and send me up there. . . ’

  ‘What can you do?’ the flames crackled.

  ‘I have a ship of my own,’ the Doctor said.

  Toaster and Barbara perked up at this. ‘Have you, Doctor? How big?’

  The Doctor’s eyes gleamed. ‘Huge. Absolutely massive. Now, I can help. If you help me first.’

  The Domovoi thundered: ‘I do not trust softbodies. They are treach-erous. They command you. You serve them. You provide them with everything they need. And then. . . when danger comes, when disaster strikes. . . what do they do? They make plans to abandon you.

  They prepare to abscond. To leave you. To the tender mercies of the Voracious Craw. Do you know what happens to those left to the Voracious Craw?’

  The Doctor nodded. ‘I do indeed. I’ve seen it happen. From a great distance away. And, if you don’t help me, Domovoi. . . we’re all going to see it rather closer up.’

  Barbara could contain herself no longer. ‘Oh, please help him, Great Domovoi! He is a good man! I just know he is! He won’t betray us like Tiermann did! He will save us! Save us all!’

  The Doctor shrugged worriedly. ‘Well, I’ll do my best. What else can I do?’ He grinned at the swirling vicious flames that formed the Domovoi. ‘I swear that I will try to help you all.’

  The weird being in the fireplace mulled this over, and hissed and flashed as she thought. ‘Very well, Doctor. I will return you to the surface. With these two Servo-furnishings to help you.’

  ‘Thank you, Domovoi,’ the Doctor gave a little bow.

  67

  The fire crackled with laughter. ‘Don’t thank me yet. You do not know what I am planning to do next. . . ’

  A door slid open at the other end of the sepulchral room.

  ‘Now,’ cried the Domovoi. ‘Leave me in peace! The elevator will return you to the surface. Go!’

  As the Doctor and his friends headed for the lift, all three of them were somewhat perplexed by the ringing laughter that filled their ears. . . It was as if the Domovoi had taken leave of her senses. And, thought the Doctor, if that was true, it was very bad news indeed.

  68

  I ’m stuck in this place with someone crazy in charge, Martha thought.
<
br />   She watched Ernest Tiermann pacing up and down the plush carpet of the long drawing room. He was mumbling and muttering to himself and, every so often, dashing to check that the doors were locked or the windows sealed tight.

  We’re all stuck here with him, she thought. She looked at Solin and Amanda, who were perched awkwardly on tall-backed chairs across the room. They were waiting to take their lead from Tiermann. It was as if no one could do anything without his say-so.

  I wouldn’t trust him to get anyone to safety, Martha thought. Not after that scene in the kitchen with the horrible bear-thing. Tiermann had only just got out of that by the skin of his teeth. He came swaggering after his family, bringing them in here and sealing the kitchen off, and he had been filled with a bilious bravado. Martha could see that he was as close to panic as the rest of them.

  She caught Solin’s anxious eye at this point and he gave a tight, nervous smile. ‘Father. . . ’ he said, softly clearing his throat. ‘We really need to get to the ship. We can’t hide ourselves away down here. . . ’

  Tiermann’s head whipped around. At first it was as if he didn’t 69

  recognise his own son. Then his face softened. ‘You’re right. We have to get up on the roof.’

  From deeper inside the house they could suddenly hear the muffled bangs and crashes of the bear’s continuing onslaught. It was the sound of the whole kitchen being trashed. With every noise Amanda Tiermann jumped in her seat. She’s not going to get through this, Martha suddenly thought.

  The few Servo-furnishings locked inside the drawing room with them were very quiet and still. Walter the drinks cabinet seemed to be guarding the bolted main door. Martha didn’t trust any of those robots. She had seen: at any given moment they could go on the turn.

  There was a crackling and a buzzing then, as Solin started tuning the view-screen on the wall once more. Several confusing views of the Dreamhome’s interior flashed across the screen. Amanda whim-pered at the scenes of devastation, one after the next. Roaring flames from the fiery barricade outside; smashed perimeter defences – and a terrible bear lumbering into the main hallway, getting its breath back.

 

‹ Prev