Doctor Who - The Glamour Chase

by Doctor Who

  'The things that killed Daisy, that's what they breathed. Gas. Or petrol.' He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, gripping his wheelchair. 'I can still smell it.'

  Rory massaged his shoulders. 'It's OK. Deep breath. Calm down.'

  The Doctor was staring upwards, into the blue sky. 'If it wasn't the Weave, then it could have been the Tahnn.'

  'The who?'

  'Old foes of the Weave. Neighbouring planet, nothing like the Weave, dislike for the unlike, oh look we think differently from you so you must be eradicated, and BANG you have a war. But the Tahnn can't shape change, they're just soldiers who look like prunes.'

  'No!' Oliver shouted. 'No, don't let them get me.'

  Rory calmed him down again.

  'Ooh,' the Doctor said. 'That struck a chord. Never 123

  DOCTOR WHO

  been close enough to a Tahnn to smell his particular strain of halitosis but maybe we can assume that the prunefaces is what Oliver did see back in...?'

  '1928.'

  'Really? Now why would they go to Little Cadthorpe eight years ago, then vanish?'

  Rory shrugged. 'I don't know. Perhaps they couldn't find what they wanted.'

  'So why kill everyone? And yet let one man survive?' The Doctor nodded slightly towards Oliver. 'I mean, look what they did to him. We assumed it was a by-product of their attack. What if it's deliberate?'

  'You think he's really a Tahnn?'

  'No,' laughed the Doctor. 'But he can sniff 'em out and is convinced they're on their way back.' He paused then said: 'Rory, imagine you are an aircraft pilot. You know that Heathrow is basically in the south of England but not sure where exactly.'

  'I'd be a pretty crap pilot.'

  The Doctor sighed. 'Play along, please. So what are you looking for? What tells you where to land?'

  'Air traffic control? Radar?'

  'Imagine you have none of those, no outside radio help at all.'

  'They put up airstrip lights don't they, along the runway... Oh.'

  'Got there in the end. Someone's using Oliver Marks as a beacon. Eight years ago, they got the general area right but couldn't find this place. So, 124

  THE GLAMOUR CHASE

  find one local human with a war-damaged mind already, someone susceptible to their form of shock tactics and send him out into the world. Eventually, if you are patient enough, someone sees that beacon and brings him to what you are looking for.'

  Rory nodded excitedly. 'And once they found this burial mound here and thought it was the Weave ship, they brought Oliver here to act as a homing beacon to the rest of the Tahnn.'

  'Except no one here is a Tahnn, or our sniffer dog there would've spotted them.'

  'The first Mrs Porter,' suggested Rory. 'She brought him to Shalford Heights, but now she's dead or whatever. Perhaps she was the disguised Tahnn.'

  'Could be. We need to get access to the Weave ship.'

  'Which is buried inside that mound under the school that Enola Porter is going to open any day now?'

  'That lived in the house that Jack built. Spot on, Rory.' The Doctor spoke to Oliver. 'I need to meet Enola Porter. How do I do that?'

  Oliver shrugged. 'Just go to the dig, she never leaves it these days except to sleep. And sometimes she stays at the school to do that with the rest of her team.'

  'Does she? Doesn't come home much.

  Interesting.'

  'Is it?'

  125

  DOCTOR WHO

  'Actually not a lot. Although it suggests she isn't as close to her husband as he likes to make out. After all, it's only a ten-minute walk home.'

  'Tell her you're aliens,' Oliver said suddenly.

  'That'll pique her interest enough to give you the time of day.'

  'I'm not an alien,' said Rory.

  Oliver shrugged. 'Might as well be. You're not like those ones that killed Daisy, but there's still something strange about you two.'

  'Pot meet a black kettle,' murmured the Doctor.

  look, I don't know what's going to happen next, Oliver, but I do know this. I need you. I need you now like no one has ever needed you before. Do you trust me?'

  'Yes.' Oliver didn't hesitate for once. Rory's compassion and concern had earned them both that.

  'Good man.' The Doctor smiled at him and winked. 'Shall we go save planet Earth?'

  'Or die trying.' Oliver nodded. 'Absolutely.'

  'Not so keen on the dying bit, to be really honest,'

  the Doctor said. 'But whatever floats your boat.'

  Chapter

  8

  Enola Porter stood proudly in front of the smal marquee erected in the school playground. She was pouring a cup of tea from a steel teapot, and then passing it to one of her fellow archaeologists. After doing this for a while, she began unwrapping cakes.

  But she was no meek society woman by the look of it. She was dressed in a white shirt stained with sweat, a canvas over-jacket and a small peaked cap, with a pair of plus-fours which were tucked into knee-high black woollen socks, and heavy hobnailed boots. The only dash of colour was what looked like an old school tie (red and blue stripes) in place of a belt, although it was most likely more for decoration than for keeping her plus-fours up.

  'Blimey,' the Doctor said quietly to Rory as they 127

  DOCTOR WHO

  entered the school grounds, pushing Oliver along in his chair. 'Enola Porter's a man.'

  Rory did a double-take. 'Really?'

  The Doctor sighed. 'Of course not. I just meant in a Lady Gaga meets George Kirrin kind of way.'

  'Who?'

  'Lady Gaga?'

  'No, I know Lady Gaga. Well, not "know" know, but I know who she is,' Rory explained. 'But not who - hang on. Lady Gaga's not a man!'

  'Well, obviously,' the Doctor said. 'But when she first started out, they all said she was. Course, give it a few more years, when the real truth is revealed, and then watch the furore kick off. One of those gossipy magazines pay her "entourage",' the Doctor mimed the quote marks, 'their biggest ever payout to get the truth behind which dimensional rift she really fell through. Oh yes!' The Doctor stopped.

  'Hang on. Do I mean Lady Gaga or the other one?'

  'Which other one?'

  'Won The X Factor. Or American Idol. Or was it South Korea's Got Talent? Either way, Enola Porter is a bit butch.'

  'Charming,' Rory murmured, as Enola strode manfully towards them. 'OK,' he said even more quietly. 'You may have a point.'

  She stuck out a dusty, scarred and deeply tanned hand which Rory shook.

  Yup, he'd had patients after a Saturday night fight in Gloucester with pussier handshakes than that.

  128

  THE GLAMOUR CHASE

  Fearful for the continued operation of his fingers, he eased his hand out, and Enola Porter shook hands with the Doctor, who didn't flinch at all, of course.

  'My name's the Doctor. This is Rory. And of course you know our chum 011y.'

  Enola kissed Oliver's cheek. 'You must think this is important, Oliver, to trek all the way down here.'

  'These people believe me, Enola!'

  Enola looked at each of them in turn. 'Really?'

  she said after a moment. 'I see.'

  The Doctor smiled his smiliest smile.

  'Well, Doctor, a real pleasure to meet you.'

  'I gather you're quite the archaeologist,' he said.

  Enola Porter laughed lightly. 'You sound like my husband, but without the actual patronising tone.

  Maybe you hide it better.'

  'Not at all. I am genuinely interested in your work.'

  'Of course,' Enola said, probably unconvinced.

  'This is an amazing find.' She nudged a rucksack beside a table with her foot. 'All in my notebooks, all my travels, all my discoveries. I shall need a whole new book once this dig is completed.'

  'I should like to read them,' the Doctor said. 'I imagine you have had a most interesting life.'

  'Thank you. I have. Oh, and I must introduce
you to my team - be darned rude not to, yes? Now then, who first?' She looked around the schoolyard at the various people pouring tea, moving shovels, or chatting. Most of them, Rory guessed, were the 129

  DOCTOR WHO

  few locals still in the village, but a few stood out as academics or, at least, were clearly not locals. They didn't have that 'village' look about them.

  'Well, over there, that's Christopher Maginn, always fascinated by rocks we find. Crystal, diamonds, things like that.'

  A thin man in his forties, wearing a dark suit that really should have been at an awards ceremony not a dig, waved from behind a cup of tea.

  'And over there with the ridiculous moustache, that's young Hamish Ridley. He's another geologist but is very into fossils and dinosaurs. And a teller of tall tales, so watch out for that. Says he helped Howard Carter excavate Tutankhamun's tomb, but as he's not died of the curse yet, not sure we believe him, what.' Enola laughed gaily.

  She pointed next to a sour-faced old man who, Rory suspected, had not eaten for about thirty years. His skin was taut over his frame to such an extent that Rory wondered if he could actually see the individual bones in his face and hands.

  'Good afternoon, Marten,' Enola bellowed, but he ignored her. She grinned at the Doctor, Rory and Oliver. 'Oh I know I shouldn't tease but he's so wretched and miserable, and it's all an act. Got kicked out of the Bauhaus in '32, probably too much of a Nazi for them, but a brilliant draughtsman.

  Draws everything we find around the world. Not as fast as a photographer, but so much more accurate.

  He gets depth and scale and emotional context and 130

  THE GLAMOUR CHASE

  - oh look, see that chap there, with the monocle?

  That's Walpole Spune, he's our local expert on stone circles, burial mounds, dolomites and so forth. Only been with the team a couple of months. It was he who found evidence that the dig was more than just a burial ground.'

  'Interesting,' said Rory. 'How local is local?'

  'Oh, a couple of counties across. Comes from somewhere near Lincoln, I think.'

  'And he told you to dig here?'

  'He was instrumental in getting us started, yes.'

  Finally able to get a word in, the Doctor asked if it wasn't just a burial ground, what was it?

  'Oh, come see,' said Enola, taking the cup of tea out of Maginn's hand as they walked past, draining it and returning it all in one swift movement. She also chose to ignore the look of daggers that Maginn gave in return, so Rory shrugged an apology, but Maginn ignored him.

  Enola patted Oliver's shoulder. 'Can't take your chair down with us, Mr Marks, sorry. Will you be OK up here? Shall I get one of my stout volunteers to pop you home?'

  Oliver shook his head. 'I don't need the blasted chair. I can walk, you know.'

  'Yes, we know,' said Rory patiently. 'But you've been medicated quite heavily, and I would be happier if I knew you were safe up here, not having a stumble or something in the dark, yeah?'

  Oliver looked at Rory, and his shoulders seemed 131

  DOCTOR WHO

  to sag. Then he smiled weakly at Enola. 'I'd rather wait here for the Doctor and Rory until they're finished.'

  Enola nodded her understanding and asked one of the ladies to nip over.

  It was Nancy Thirman from the library. Rory was about to say something, but the Doctor gave a tiny shake of the head, so he let it go.

  'Nan will look after you,' said Enola to Oliver.

  'Of course I will,' Nancy Thirman said sweetly.

  Rory got closer to the Doctor. 'She's — '

  'Your ball of living wool?'

  'How did you know?'

  'Your face said it. Frankly, you could've had a pink neon sign saying, "Doctor, it's an alien"

  hovering above your head, although that might have been too subtle.'

  'Is it safe to leave Oliver with her?'

  'He hasn't reacted to her Weave-ness, so I think so, yes. Means it's definitely the Tahnn he's wired up to spot. Which makes me think... nah, never mind.

  Let's follow the lady.'

  So they followed Enola out of the school playground and over to a huge tented area covering most of the rugby field at the back. The goalposts had been dismantled and were lying together at the side of the pitch, but everything else was hidden by the canvas.

  Enola yanked back a flap at one end and bade them follow her in, so they did.

  132

  THE GLAMOUR CHASE

  In front of them, illuminated by flickering temporary electrical torches hung with string, was a path leading to a hole in the ground. Looking down, they saw that it led to a gaping maw beneath the field.

  Enola scooped up a massive torch and switched it on, casting strange shadows across the canvas behind them. So strange that for a second Rory thought he had two shadows until he realised that the German artist, Marten, was stood behind him, sketchpad and pencil ready, looking like a schoolchild on an excursion to a brass-rubbing centre. (Rory had been on those when at school. He hated them. But they'd stayed in his memory.) Of course, Marten's less than hospitable face reminded Rory more of a teacher than a pupil. A sickly, pale teacher who was either going to bite your head off or keel over and die in the next ten minutes; either could happen. Rory had known teachers like that, too. Usually they were the ones who thought brass rubbing was exciting, informative and creative.

  If the Doctor even noticed Marten had joined them, he certainly didn't react to his presence. Instead he was looking around the tunnelled entrance that seemed to be taking them further and further below the rugby field.

  'I'm impressed.' He whistled through his teeth, which confirmed to Rory that he was, indeed, impressed. Often the Doctor would say

  'I'm impressed' when he wasn't impressed at all DOCTOR WHO

  (frequently when it was something Rory had done, and the 'I'm impressed' was followed by a wink between the Doctor and Amy that they believed Rory hadn't seen). That was an insincere 'I'm impressed'.

  This was a sincere one.

  Hmmm. He needed to talk to Amy about that winking thing.

  'I'm also confused,' the Doctor added.

  That was a new one on Rory.

  'I mean,' he continued, 'this is a dig. Quite literally. But you talked about a burial mound. This is more of a burial pit, really.'

  'We call them graves,' Rory found himself adding with a laugh and then wishing he hadn't.

  'No, not a grave, Rory,' the Doctor said, quite seriously. 'Although I can see the analogy. But look ahead. That's definitely a mound. It's just way underground.'

  'I know,' said Enola Porter. 'How unique is that?'

  'Well, dunno about unique,' the Doctor countered cheerfully, 'but definitely on the unusual side. Wouldn't you agree, Marten?' he called back, acknowledging the grumpy German for the first time.

  Ja,' Marten said. Or grunted. Rory wasn't sure so he gave him the benefit of the doubt. He glanced back and saw that Marten was sketching like mad.

  The Doctor's attention was now on the actual mound itself because, sure enough, there it was.

  THE GLAMOUR CHASE

  A huge long peapod-shaped colossus beneath the earth.

  'How did you know it was here?' the Doctor asked. 'It's not like you've invented infrared scanners or seismographic radar yet.'

  Enola stared at the Doctor, a frown on her face for the first time. 'I have no idea what those things are,' she said.

  'Good for you,' the Doctor beamed. 'Cos if you had, well, Rory would have been worried, wouldn't you, Rory?'

  'Why would Rory have been worried?' Enola asked.

  'Because they've not been invented yet,' Rory said, 'and that would imply some kind of alien or temporal anomaly or interference of the kind the Doctor doesn't like.'

  The Doctor slapped Rory on the back. 'Spot on.

  Bit too much information, to be honest, matey,'

  he added, 'but my fault for thinking you'd know when not to show off.' He turned to Enola
. 'But he's right. Rory's from 2010, when these things are commonplace. Me, 0000h, a lot further away. So now we've waved our intergalactic credentials at you and no doubt blown away your mind with our brilliance, sophistication and sexy alien hair - that's just me by the way, Rory's hair is neither alien nor sexy - why don't you answer my question? How did you know a burial mound was buried under a school rugger pitch in 1936?'

  135

  DOCTOR WHO

  'Easy,' Enola said. 'Walpole Spune got his divining rod out and led us straight to it.'

  'A divining rod?' asked Rory. 'Really?'

  The Doctor nodded. 'I so want one of those, Rory.

  A bit of old twig that leads you to things. So simple.

  Who needs a TARDIS or a sonic screwdriver when a bit of tree branch will do?'

  'No one,' Rory said. 'It's nonsense.'

  'Ah,' the Doctor countered. 'You know that. I know that. But Walpole Spune doesn't; he believes.

  And faith in your own abilities is both useful and powerful.'

  'Are you saying he really did divine his way to this place?' Rory was gobsmacked.

  'Naaah,' the Doctor said. 'But this lot of primitives do. Sorry, no offence,' he threw to Enola. 'And that means someone has let them believe it because they wanted to be found. Now then, where's Marten got to?'

  Sure enough, the German had vanished, presumably back the way they'd come. Rory walked over to where he'd been sketching and found a sheet of foolscap drawing paper. He looked at the image.

  And sighed.

  'Doctor,' he called. 'You need to see this.'

  The Doctor was at his side in an instant. 'What's up?'

  Rory showed him the drawing Marten had done, and the Doctor blew air out of his cheeks.

  'Curiouser and curiouser,' he said and turned 136

  THE GLAMOUR CHASE

  back to Enola. 'Does Marten often draw things like this?'

  She joined them and started as she looked at the sketch and said, quite definitively, that she'd never seen anything like it before. At first glance, it looked like a charcoal sketch of the Doctor and Rory in the tunnels with Enola Porter. Except that instead of where their heads and faces would normally have been, the Doctor and Rory appeared to have been drawn with balls of dark wool instead.