by Doctor Who
When Uncle Bertie was shot and killed by an itinerant in a Moroccan bazaar, she briefly thought of returning home to her father. But, at Bertie's funeral, Marten Heinke had made his presence known and, before long, Enola was on her way back to Great Britain to find out about a burial mound that had been researched but remained unexcavated in Norfolk. There she had met the recently widowed Nathaniel Porter and, despite a few grumbles from the locals, had rapidly found herself becoming his new bride, a fact that had surprised her even more THE GLAMOUR CHASE
than it had the residents of Shalford Heights. For she doubted she truly loved him, and vice versa. But somehow they completed one another, provided what the other actually needed. This wasn't a lover or even a friend, but a partner, a respectable person, whose arm she could hold at social parties and whose friends and family seemed so distant and far away as to not be bothered with such things as love and weddings. Indeed, Enola couldn't quite remember if her father had even come up from London for the wedding.
That was odd, the Doctor thought. Why couldn't she remember that?
Anyway, after the marriage, Nathaniel Porter was very keen for his new wife to begin her work on the burial mound found along with the fogou beneath the school grounds. Much to the consternation of some of the locals, Porter had managed to get permission to have the school closed for the summer months and the grounds churned up. First Enola had contacted a man she had briefly met in Ceylon, Hamish Ridley, who agreed to join the team, eager to learn more about a hitherto unknown warrior buried in the English countryside.
Ridley's presence had proven trickier to arrange than Enola had anticipated - at some point he had come into a 'dispute' (his word, it seemed) with the authorities. Specifically, the Customs and Excise had seemed to suggest that Ridley had previously caused some 'affair' over something he had brought 171
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back from Marrakesh once that may or may not have been his to bring back.
Ridley was a charmer and very sophisticated, although Enola remained immune to his charms.
She needed a good geologist and experienced excavator, and so her new husband had used his not inconsiderable influence (it always surprised Enola just how much influence he seemed to have) to get him into the country. Still, Hamish Ridley did spend a great deal of time looking over his shoulder, both metaphorically and quite literally, so Enola was never entirely sure how long it would be before someone turned up and carted him off to jail.
Christopher Maginn she had heard of but never met. She had read a number of his papers on British burial mounds, Stonehenge and that sort of thing.
Stone circles weren't really Enola's interest, but the barrows at Avebury, Cornwall and especially West Kennet had always fascinated her. Maginn was another charmer, although she found his company less bearable - he was almost too suffocatingly friendly at times. He also quoted Oscar Wilde and chatted to the younger farmhands a little too much for her comfort. There were rumours about him and a young male archaeologist from Guildford, but then there were just as many stories about him and young girls working in pubs and factories, so it was difficult to know what to believe.
Then there had been old Walpole Spune - the strange man who believed in science and divination THE GLAMOUR CHASE
equal y, who went to Church without fail on Sundays (except in Shalford Heights, where there wasn't one) but didn't cherish the Bible in way, shape or form, reckoning it was of no more historical relevance than the fairy tales of the Brothers Grimm. But he was fascinated by God, because of the way God united people and simultaneously set them at one another's throat. He had survived three wars and it was said he once saw the Angel of Mons, though Enola seemed not to have asked him about that.
The Doctor reckoned Enola probably wasn't sure she could believe him, whatever his response. She clearly didn't like Spune that much - she thought him a coward, both intellectually and literally -
but his enthusiasm couldn't be faulted. Ultimately, whatever the foibles of her team, they were all good at their jobs. Even Marten Heinke.
Sullen and almost rude to the point that she wanted to fire him, it was Heinke's brilliant artwork that kept him around. Neither she nor the other two men were especially great with cameras but Marten Heinke was more than capable of recording everything in his charcoals.
The most recent notebook entry implied that today was, theoretically, the day that her trowel would finally break through the mud and earth and chalk and grit - the day that she would finally break through into the burial chamber. To discover a warrior chieftain. Or a stone age family. Or Roman remains. Or any number of things that could have DOCTOR WHO
been placed there any time between 5000 BC and AD
900.
Sadly, despite everything she had written in her journals, right up to that very morning, the Doctor didn't believe anyone else would ever read a word of them, and he told Rory and Amy this.
'Her life is fascinating, but she is obsessed by this burial mound.'
Rory reached down into Enola's satchel and produced a crumpled sheet of paper. 'Why do you think she put this in there?'
The Doctor regarded the paper. It was the sketch that Marten Heinke had drawn earlier of him and Rory, both in the wrong clothes, and with woolly heads. 'Because she knew I'd nick her bag. Because she wanted me to have it.'
'Why?' Rory asked. 'The German guy's a bit surly and an imaginative artist, but not scary.'
The Doctor passed Rory and Amy one of the other books. 'There's a picture tucked in between 1922 and 1923. For safekeeping - I don't think the dates are significant. More a way of ensuring none of her current team find it.'
Amy unfurled the paper they found in the book.
It was another Marten original. But this one showed a wedding scene - the Porters' wedding, in fact. The wedding wasn't in a church; it was clearly where the dig was taking place - the schoolyard, directly above the burial chamber. And every single guest at the wedding had woollen faces except four. Her, 174
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Maginn, Ridley and Nathaniel Porter. The three archaeologists looked normal. The bridegroom however was... bizarre, even for a Marten Heinke sketch.
He had three heads. His own recognisable one, a formless woollen one and a blank, almost shapeless one.
'Three heads, only one of them human,' Amy said.
'Imaginative,' the Doctor said again. 'And a bit too Hieronymus Bosch for me.'
Rory tapped the picture. 'Enola's not scared of Marten Heinke, Doctor. She's scared of her husband.'
'Spot on,' said the Doctor. 'I wonder why.'
'Because she thinks he's going to kill her,' said Oliver Marks, apparently dozing by the abandoned chess game. But clearly not.
'Why?'
Oliver waved in the general direction of the picture Amy was holding. 'Because one morning a few weeks ago, she saw him heading to the kitchen in the Manse. When she called to him, he turned and looked at her. And just for a split second, she apparently saw those three heads on his shoulders.'
'She told you that?' asked Amy. 'Why?'
'She trusts me,' Oliver said simply. 'I don't know why. Maybe she was spooked and needed a confidant.'
The Doctor slammed the books to the ground.
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'I'm a fool. But Enola Porter isn't. Wel , she is, because she's opening that burial mound and knows damn well what's in there and how dangerous it is to her.
She doesn't know how dangerous it is to the whole world, obviously, but that's not the point.'
Amy shrugged. 'The light in the Manse isn't great. And maybe this picture put that image into her head and she saw it in her imagination.'
'Well, you would say that. You need Enola to gain access to the ship.'
'What?' said Amy.
'Well, you're not really Amy Pond, are you, let's be honest.'
'What do you mean she's not Amy?' demanded Rory.
'Blimey, Rory, your marriage is not gonna
be good if you can't even tell which Amy is which.' He looked at Amy. 'Where is she?'
'I don't understand,' Amy protested, but Rory grabbed her arm.
'OK, I get it now. I had my suspicions earlier, your disinterest, the pheasant and thinking the Doctor came from Mars. Now I know for sure. The real Amy wouldn't just dismiss something like a three-headed creature in an English village in 1936!'
'Good boy, Rory,' said the Doctor. 'I thought you hadn't got it.'
'You knew for how long?'
'Well, I sort of guessed when you did. The Mars thing was a dead giveaway actually. The real Amy THE GLAMOUR CHASE
sending us a message, I think. She's smart, that one.'
'Well, I'm glad you take it so easily. Of course, as far as I know, Amy being exchanged for fake Amys happens all the time for you.'
'No, actually. First time, I think.'
'For me too, so sorry if I didn't run round making accusations that could've made me look foolish in front of my fiancé!' Rory stared at Amy 'But God, it's a good copy.'
Amy smiled. 'Thank you.'
Rory took a deep breath. 'Why are you here? I mean, who are you exactly?'
'She's one of the Weave, Rory,' the Doctor said quietly. 'Which means Amy is safe because they need to keep the originals alive and well.' He touched Rory's arm gently. 'We'll get her back safely.
Promise.'
Rory looked like he was about to argue, but he held back.
The Doctor looked at the fake Amy. 'We'll ask this politely, just once more. Who are you?'
'Like you care,' said the fake Amy.
That wasn't a reaction anyone had expected.
'What do you mean?'
'You abandoned me,' she snapped.
The Doctor was wrong-footed immediately.
'What? What? Why are you saying that?'
'You abandoned me,' she repeated. 'For years.'
'What, in Leadworth?' he said, remembering the DOCTOR WHO
fourteen years Amy had waited for him. 'I said I was sorry...'
'Not Leadworth,' she said. 'Here.'
'I never abandoned you here. We've haven't even been here a day yet.'
'Six thousand years we have waited for you,'
Amy said. 'Six. Thousand. Years.' She smacked him hard across the face. 'You abandoned me here six thousand years ago!'
The Doctor suddenly recalled his visit to the Weave world all those lives ago. The little girl he'd taken to see the universe. The little girl he'd given a TARDIS homing beacon to. The little girl he'd befriended.
'It can't be you. You're all grown up!'
'We crashed here six thousand years ago. Just before we crashed, I set off your device, because you promised you'd come if ever I used it.'
'We did. The TARDIS picked it up,' the Doctor said. Then he sighed. 'But the signal bounced all the way through the time vortex and brought us to 1936
instead of when you crashed. Because something else nearby, in cosmic terms, is transmitting a signal and that interfered. I'm sorry. What do they call you on the ship? What's your position?'
'I am 6011.'
The Doctor did a swift calculation — so either side of you 3715, next up, 9726?'
6011 nodded.
'Fibonacci system, see, Rory? Well, sort of.
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Anyway, I was right.'
'Yes, great, that helps Amy, Doctor. Look 6011 or whatever your name is, why do you need access to your ship?' Rory asked. 'You must have it already.'
6011 shrugged. 'I don't understand the question.'
'Everything your people have done,' said the Doctor, 'has been gearing towards getting Enola Porter to access your ship. But that's mad, because you can clearly come and go as you please.'
'They are coming,' Oliver yelled suddenly.
'Not now, 011y,' muttered the Doctor, but 6011
was distracted.
'He senses the Tahnn?'
'Ignore him. Please. This is important. Why do you need Enola Porter to get to your ship?'
'I don't know what you are talking about. We are hiding from the Tahnn. We, too, can sense they are coming.'
'That's what he keeps saying,' Rory jerked his head back at the distraught Oliver Marks.
'And he's right,' 6011 said. 'The Tahnn are close, so we are hiding among the villagers, trying to keep an eye out.'
'So the Librarian, the farmer, Marten Heinke, I presume?'
'Yes. People to keep an eye out. 41200, the one you know as Marten, has been trying to warn people away from the ship. The Exalted must be protected at all costs.' 6011 was getting anxious now. 'We must 179
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get back to my Commander. This man can sense the Tahnn. His mind has been touched by them. He is the beacon, drawing them ever closer.'
'Don't even think about hurting him,' said Rory angrily.
'But they must not find the ship,' 6011 said desperately.
'I don't understand,' said Rory. 'If these Tahnn want to destroy you, why don't they just blast this place? Oliver is apparently giving off waves telling them where you are. If I were them, I'd just zap away.'
The Doctor was staring at Rory, mouth agape.
'Sorry,' Rory said. 'I just thought—'
'No, you are brilliant!' The Doctor said. 'They want the ship. They want the crew dead but the reason they've not destroyed anything yet is they want what's in the ship, yes?'
6011 nodded. 'Of course, they want the Glamour.
That's what we are protecting! That's why that archaeologist woman must not be permitted to get access. The moment she breaks the walls of the ship, the Glamour will escape into the atmosphere. And the Tahnn will siphon it up and have it.'
'What's the Glamour?' asked Rory.
The Doctor clicked his fingers. 'Your family mentioned that to me, all those years ago. It's important to you, isn't it?'
'It's why the Tahnn warred with us. We had the Glamour naturally. They wanted it, to use it as a 180
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weapon, to create confusion rather than ecstasy.'
'Walked right into this with eyes wide closed,'
the Doctor said, suddenly angry. 'Stupid Doctor.
Stupid, stupid Doctor. Why didn't I see this earlier, Rory? I was suspicious but not suspicious enough.'
'What are you talking about?'
'Who keeps 011y here as a beacon to the Tahnn.
Who married an archaeologist to ensure she got to the Weave ship? Who has the ability to become a copy of Daisy taken from an old photo to throw us off the scent? And who couldn't read the psychic paper and must immediately have known we were alien?'
Rory nodded. 'Nathaniel Porter? He's a Tahnn?'
'Must be.'
'Can't be.'
'Why not?'
Rory pointed at Oliver Marks. 'Because he keeps saying they are coming not that they are already here. If Nathaniel Porter was a Tahnn, surely he'd sense it?'
'Oh, Rory!'
'What?'
'I hate it when you're right. But there's something strange about Nathaniel Porter.' He turned to 6011.
'Your people, like you've done with Amy, you download their memories when you copy them, yes?'
'Short-term memory, basic characteristics and so on, yes.'
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'Rory, what did Oily tell us? That the villagers had left over the last few years. So, Nathaniel Porter needs an archaeologist. Meantime, Mrs Porter thinks,
"My husband's a bit weird." Maybe she finds out the truth - bingo, under the patio for her, as Amy
- real Amy - mentioned earlier. So rather than just getting an archaeologist in, he marries one. Long-term plan, but other people spot the differences, so he gets rid of them, forces them to move out - he can't kill them or he starts to look like Dr Crippen
- apart from a few people still loyal to him out of long-time respect. The Porters have run this place for years, remember.'
&n
bsp; 'So if he's not a human, and he's not a Tahnn, what is he?' Rory asked.
'That's easy,' the Doctor said. He looked at 6011.
'I assume the reason you can't just take off, other than the ethics of wiping out a village in the back-blast, is because your ship depends on all twenty-five sequential crew being present, yeah?'
6011 in Amy's body nodded.
'And you don't have a full complement, do you?'
'No, two of the crew died in the crash, and two more have disappeared subsequently.'
'Who?'
'Our Executive Officer, 3, and our Tactical Officer, 25463. 3 disappeared shortly after we awoke. 25463
went to retrieve him about ten years later.'
'Ten years? Blimey,' said Rory.
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'In a species as long lived as the Weave, Rory, ten years is an afternoon to you. So one of those two was working for the Tahnn, to supply them with the Glamour. Probably long before you crashed.'
6011 gasped. 'Before we crashed, when I sent your TARDIS homing beacon out into space, I met 3
walking around our ship. I was surprised, because he should have been overseeing the hibernation chambers.'
`So 3 finds himself taking on the life of Nathaniel Porter, because that's a great way to ensure no one questions anything you do, while secretly bringing the Tahnn here, using Oliver there as a guiding light.'
Rory nodded. 'Just like you said he was.'
6011 was shaking her head. 'No Weave would ever betray a ship to the Tahnn, least of all one carrying the Glamour.'
'Your faith is touching,' said the Doctor, 'but I reckon it's misplaced.'
Rory was walking over to Oliver Marks, who was staring dead ahead again, back in the throes of a flashback.
'Oliver, it's Rory. How long have you felt them coming? How often do you sense, smell and taste the Tahnn?'
'Every day,' Oliver breathed. 'Every single day.'