Doctor Who BBC N06 - The Stealers of Dreams
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‘You see now, Gryden? Do you see who the liar is?’
The part where the camera zoomed in, to show that her vidcom was broken, blank, just the remnants of a shattered screen nestling in a mess of burnt-out circuitry.
‘Yeah,’ said the Doctor quietly. ‘I think we all do.’
The other cops were shaken, unsure who to trust. They were wa-vering, some of them turning their guns on Waller herself.
‘Course, I don’t know the full story,’ said the Doctor. ‘I don’t know where you got the uniform and the bike, but there’s always a way if you want it badly enough. And of course, who’d question you? Who’d dare 165
accuse a police officer of lying? Did the uniform come with the pips, by the way, or did you make them yourself, give yourself a promotion? How about the vidcom? Was it always broken, or did you break it yourself so you’d only hear the voices you wanted to hear?’ He shifted his gaze to Waller’s colleagues. ‘Anyone else heard of this “Steel”? No? I wonder – if
“Inspector” Waller got away with it this long, how many more impostors are there out there? How many in this room?’
Waller had dropped her gun. She looked as if the life had drained out of her. She was muttering something feebly. Sound technicians had worked hard to decipher the words, so that they could be subtitled. She was saying, ‘I didn’t mean to . . . I was only trying to put things right, fight the monsters. . . ’
But the Doctor didn’t let up. ‘Ironic, isn’t it, “Inspector”, that you’ve spent so long denying other people their dreams – and all that time you were living all yours!’
The cops had gathered their thoughts now and command had passed without discussion to a short, stocky man with sergeant’s stripes. At his signal, they moved in and seized the Doctor, Rose and Waller. None of them resisted.
A black-gloved hand closed over the lens of the camera, blocking its view of the scene – and a moment later, it went dead.
But by then, of course, it was far too late.
It had been an amazing two months.
The Doctor’s speech had calmed tensions on the streets. Many rioters had just quietly given up and gone home to think about all he’d said. The police had been able to deal with the rest.
Later that night, Cal Tyko had appeared on 8 News and talked nervously about micro-organisms that fed off brainwaves. He had been arrested immediately, of course – but his claims had been scrutinised by a score of doctors and they’d all concluded that he was telling the truth. Domnic himself had been examined many times over.
A serum had been synthesised within days. The doctors had said it would alter the composition of human brain fluid, just enough to make it unpalatable to these stealers of dreams. An hour later, it 166
was revealed that the serum was actually coloured water and that the doctors had imagined its beneficial effects. But work had continued and distribution of a real cure had begun a fortnight later.
The take-up had been huge – although some people had stayed away, still scared of the idea of being able to visualise all they liked.
Or perhaps of the opposite: of finding out the truth. Most of them had had their minds changed by the news media swinging its weight behind the vaccination campaign.
The Big White House hadn’t been closed down yet, but most of its beds were empty. Domnic, Rose Tyler and Captain Jack had been among the first to be discharged. Kimmi Waller had been one of the last.
Her release had dominated the news last week. The Chief of Police, in a newspaper interview, had said there would be no charges over the theft of police equipment – and indeed that Waller would be welcome to join her force for real, if she cared to apply. Apparently, during her fictional career, she had made more arrests than almost any other officer.
The police had still been trying to work out what to do with ‘Hal Gryden’ – still trying to decide if he was hero or villain – when the decision was taken from their hands. He had disappeared from a locked room during the night and hadn’t been seen since. Only Domnic knew where he had gone and he wasn’t saying.
An election campaign was well under way, with hundreds of candi-dates all promising to deliver dreams if they were voted into office.
And a bunch of historians had revealed the name of their world, at last, having sifted through the evidence without delusion or precon-ception. Colony World 4378976.Delta-Four, it turned out, had once been known as Arkannis Major.
Which, everyone agreed, was a bit dull.
He had hurried through the jungle, not caring about a few scratches this time. Every so often he had thought he could hear voices ahead of him. He’d dismissed them as products of his imagination, before realising that they were real.
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He had reached the blue cabinet just as its door shut with a final-sounding thud. He had run up to it but hadn’t known what to do. Cry out? Knock on the door?
What would he have said if somebody had answered?
He had walked round the box, staring at it, agonising over his indecision.
He had completed his circuit and been surprised to find Rose Tyler in front of him.
‘Hi.’
‘Er, hi,’ Domnic had stammered. ‘I just. . . I didn’t want to. . . I felt. . . ’
‘I know. Sorry ’bout sneaking off like that. The Doctor’s not keen on goodbyes.’ Domnic hadn’t said anything, so Rose had continued, ‘I think it’s all the adoration – makes him a bit embarrassed.’
Captain Jack had popped his head out of the door. ‘You ask me, he’s missing out on the best bit. Why else put our necks on the line, if not for the adoration? Coming, Rose?’
‘OK, yeah.’
Jack had glanced at Domnic. ‘Listen, mate, the Doctor said you should try to re-establish contact with other human worlds, get them to send you all the fiction they have. He said you’ve got so much to look forward to: Hitchcock, Proust, Blyton, Dennis the Menace.’ And then he’d disappeared again.
‘No, really,’ Rose had laughed, ‘that’s what he said: Dennis the Menace.’
Domnic had swallowed. ‘Will I. . . Will we see you again?’
‘Doubt it,’ she had said regretfully. Then, turning back to the cabinet, she had paused and added, ‘Well. . . maybe in your dreams.’
Then she’d darted forward, kissed Domnic quickly on the cheek and disappeared with a wink and a grin.
The door had shut again behind her and Domnic had been startled by the rasping, grating sound of some unearthly engine.
And he’d watched agog as, yet again, something unbelievable had happened.
∗ ∗ ∗
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The new show came on promptly at seven. It was about Hal Gryden, of course, travelling in his spaceship to other worlds and teaching them how to dream – and it was everything that had been promised of it.
Domnic Allen was glued to the screen, hardly daring to blink until the episode was over. He could almost feel new ideas expanding and combining inside his head.
That night, for once, he – like many others – would go to sleep happy.
And dream of monsters at the foot of the bed.
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Acknowledgements
First off, thanks to Neil Harding for passing on an anecdote about an employer who thought that those taking part in role-playing games were ‘detached from reality’. In typical Doctor Who fashion, I exaggerated this to form the basis of my book. Thanks also to Neil for technical assistance as usual, and to Helen Raynor at the Doctor Who production office for trusting me with a couple of Top Secret scripts so I could find out a bit more about this Captain Jack guy!
And of course this book wouldn’t be what it is without my editor, Justin Richards. In fact, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all those wonderful people who’ve let me play in the Doctor’s universe for the past thirteen years – and in particular I’m hugely grateful to Peter Darvill-Evans for taking a chance on an untried writer all that time ago.
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About the Author
Steve Lyons has written nearly twenty novels, several audio dramas and many short stories, starring characters from the X-Men and Spider-Man to the Tomorrow People and Sapphire & Steel. He has also co-written a number of books about TV shows, including Cun-ning: The Blackadder Programme Guide and the bestselling Red Dwarf Programme Guide.
His previous Doctor Who work includes the novels Conundrum, The Witch Hunters and The Crooked World, audio dramas The Fires of Vul-can and Colditz, and work for the official Doctor Who Magazine. He lives in Salford, near Manchester.
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Document Outline
Cover
Contents
Prologue
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
Acknowledgements
About the Author