Who’s coming with me? Not you two.’
This last remark was directed at the boys. Ranjit looked relieved, but Cameron pulled a face.
‘I haven’t come all this way for nothing,’ he protested.
‘Yeah, you have. Sorry,’ said the Doctor dismissively.
‘I will take the boys back,’ Gopal said. ‘We will wait for you by the elephants.’
‘Okey-dokey,’ said the Doctor. ‘See you in a bit.’ He strode towards the temple’s pillared entrance.
Donna hurried to catch up with him. ‘You’ve got a way with kids,’ she said heavily. ‘You ought to be a teacher.’
‘Been there, done that.’ He took a reading of the building with his sonic. ‘
‘Anything?’
‘Not sure.’ He turned to Gandhi and his attendant, who were bringing up the rear. ‘How you doing there, Mohandas?’
‘I am ready for anything,’ Gandhi said happily.
‘Good man.’
They entered the temple, which felt refreshingly cool after the hot sun. It would have been gloomy had it not been for the bands of dusty light which spilled through the cracks in the ancient stonework.
‘Doesn’t seem to be anyone home,’ she said.
‘Certainly there is no sign of Shiva’s light,’ observed Gandhi.
‘That’s probably because the zytron engines of whatever landed here have powered down,’ the Doctor speculated. ‘But let’s stay alert, people. Stick close to me.
I’m the man with the plan.’
‘And what plan’s that then?’ Donna asked.
The Doctor glanced at her and swallowed. ‘Well, the plan to… um… have a quick look round and… see what’s what.’
‘Brilliant,’ she said.
‘Sometimes the simplest plans are the best ones,’ he replied huffily.
They moved through the antechamber and into the shrine. Inside was a large open space with an altar at the far end. Aside from the archetypal Indian designs carved into the stonework, the layout wasn’t all that different from the churches back home, Donna thought.
What seemed immediately clear to her was that the temple was empty and deserted, that whatever might have been here a week ago had now gone. She was about to say as much when she became aware of a strange silvery shimmer in the air. When the shimmer faded, a vast creature was standing in front of the altar.
She gasped, recognising the creature instantly. It was a massive, flame-red arachnid, from the front of which, rearing from the abdomen like a figurehead on a ship, was a vaguely humanoid female torso, encased in a ridged, armour-like exoskeleton. Instead of hands the ‘spider-woman’ had lethal-looking spikes, and her parody of a human face was set in a grinning snarl, the slavering mouth filled with jagged teeth, the eyes black and staring.
There were more eyes, a whole row of them, on the crown-like crest that jutted above the spider-woman’s brow.
Donna clutched the Doctor’s arm, her legs turning to water. ‘Oh my God, Doctor, it’s the Racnoss,’ she said.
The Doctor looked at her curiously, but said nothing.
On the other side of him, Gandhi’s attendant had fallen to his knees and bowed his head. ‘Shiva, forgive me, Shiva, forgive me,’ he muttered over and over again.
Gandhi was standing at the Doctor’s shoulder, staring up as though mesmerised.
‘What do you see, Mohandas?’ the Doctor asked quietly.
‘I see a great darkness, Doctor,’ Gandhi said, trying to keep his voice steady. ‘A great darkness descending on the world.’
The Doctor nodded grimly and held up his sonic. ‘Well, all I see is a door that needs opening. Cover your ears.’
The sonic began to shriek, its blue tip glowing so brightly it was almost white.
Donna saw the Empress of the Racnoss flicker and distort, like a bad TV picture. Then the massive creature shattered into a million silvery fragments, which seemed to be instantly sucked into a central point, like dust into the nozzle of a powerful vacuum cleaner. A second later there was no evidence that the Racnoss had ever been there. The temple was empty and silent once more.
The central flight deck of the alien craft resembled a cave of smooth black rock, filled with a glowing plastic web interlaced with silvery-black lumps of metal. Pulsing strands and filaments snaked everywhere – some lashed together in knotted clumps; some trailing across the ridged floor like jungle vines; some hanging in fleshy loops from the uneven walls and ceiling. The metallic elements fused into the web most closely resembled machines, or bits of machines, that had melted and reformed many times over.
They were studded with spines and nodules that glittered and flickered with intermittent ripples of milky light.
The impression was that of an amateurish botch-job, a tangled lash-up of random elements that couldn’t possibly work. And yet it did work, the craft’s intricately interwoven systems united by one crucial component.
That component, ensconced in its messy cradle of technology, like a hospital patient hooked up to a dozen life-support machines, was the alien which had piloted the ship to Earth.
Right now the alien was agitated, having been caught unawares by the sonic attack. Its scans had revealed the inhabitants of this planet to be a level 2 species, yet the sonic attack had been consistent with a level 6 civilisation.
If it hadn’t been for the presence of its quarry, the pilot might not even have bothered setting the sensors which were linked to the displacement system. Fortunately, the sensors had interpreted the sonic attack as a hostile action and had automatically issued a relocation directive.
But the source of the sonic device still bothered the pilot. It didn’t think its quarry possessed such an instrument – unless it had stolen technology far in advance of its own. If so, then its quarry could prove more dangerous than had been anticipated. The pilot decided that steps would have to be taken if it didn’t want to be caught out a second time.
It sent out a thought-pulse to initiate a level 6
technology scan, and received the results within seconds.
Negative. Which meant that the sonic device was now inactive. It sent out another pulse, priming the scanners to detect any re-occurrence of sonic energy waves.
Now if the sonic device was activated again it would be ready.
‘So what was that thing in the temple?’ Donna asked.
They were sitting on the elephants again, heading back
to camp. Since the Racnoss had disappeared, the Doctor had been deep in thought, responding to her questions with little more than grunts. She had been patient up to now, but if he didn’t give her some proper answers soon she’d explode.
He blinked at her, as if roused from sleep. ‘It was a glamour,’ he said.
‘And what’s one of those when it’s at home?’
‘It’s a…’ He glanced at Gandhi, his attendants, Gopal and the two boys, all of whom were looking at him with interest. He pulled a face, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy, and then sighed, deciding as ever that the best policy was to plough on regardless.
‘It’s a kind of psychic shield,’ he said. ‘It was developed by the Kladdavoreesh to protect themselves from the squillions of predators on their planet.’ He grimaced. ‘Nasty planet, Kladdavor. Once got invited to a feasting ceremony just outside the Toxic Zone. Never again. Anyway, once word got about, glamour technology was copied, developed and adapted by loads of different species, often for military use or criminal gain.’
‘And it… what? Makes you see what you’re most scared of?’
‘In this case, yeah. The intention being that instead of hanging around you run very fast in the opposite direction.’
‘So you can’t tell, just from looking at this glamour thingy, who’s using it?’ Donna asked.
‘No, could be any one of… ooh, seventy-three thousand, nine hundred and twenty-four different species,
give or take.’
‘And how come it disappeared when you zapped i
t?’
‘Must have had an in-built displacement system, which means that whenever anyone mucks about with it, it alerts the craft it’s shielding, which then hops off somewhere else.’
‘Could do with one of them for my car,’ said Donna.
She looked round at Gandhi, who was sitting crosslegged on the elephant behind them, listening to their exchange with interest. ‘Sorry about this, Mr Gandhi,’ she said. ‘We must sound like total nutters to you.’
‘On the contrary,’ said Gandhi, ‘your conversation is fascinating.’
‘You mean you believe all this alien planet stuff? Just like that?’ She indicated the Doctor. ‘First time I met him, I thought he’d escaped from somewhere.’
Gandhi’s eyes sparkled with interest and intelligence.
He might be an old bloke, Donna thought, but even in the short time she’d known him she’d decided he was one of the sharpest people she’d ever met. Like the Doctor, he gave the impression that nothing got past him, that he could adapt to any situation.
‘You have no reason to lie to me,’ he said, ‘and how can I do anything but accept the evidence of my own eyes?’
‘But none of this… bothers you?’ Donna said. ‘I know tons of people who’d shut themselves in the wardrobe if they found out all this stuff was real.’
Gandhi smiled his neartoothless smile. ‘Forgive my impertinence, Donna, but I believe this highlights the
cultural difference between the East and the West. You see, the bridges of the West are made of concrete and steel and wire, whereas the bridges of the East are made of spirit. To communicate in the West you move and talk, and everything must have a definite resolution, but in the East we sit and contemplate and suffer and dream. There are no boundaries for us. Everything remains possible.’
Donna looked at him in admiration. ‘That’s… brilliant,’
she said. ‘Yeah, I totally get that. I’ve never thought of it like that before.’
Perched on his elephant, the Doctor grinned. ‘That’s Mohandas for you,’ he said. ‘The soul of an Eastern prophet and the spirit of a Galactic pioneer.’
Gandhi placed his palms together and gave a little bow.
‘You are too kind, Doctor.’
‘Nah, not me,’ said the Doctor. ‘Doesn’t pay to be too kind. Always be just kind enough and you won’t go far wrong.’
By the time they arrived back at the camp, the sun was high in the sky. Donna was glad to get her feet on solid ground again. The continuous motion had made her feel sick, and even with the umbrella to keep off the worst of the sun it had been getting very hot and a bit smelly.
‘Right,’ the Doctor said, jumping down from his elephant, ‘onwards and upwards. Gopal, Mohandas, see you later. If you hear news of Shiva, or any other deity, popping up in any nearby temples, give us a shout. Donna, seeing as the Campbells are mates of yours, will you take Cameron home? I’ll join you there in a bit.’
He turned away, but Donna said, ‘Hang on, where are
you going?’
‘Back to the TARDIS. I want to scan the area for hotspots of zytron energy, see if I can find out where that ship’s gone.’
He turned away again. Donna asked, ‘What is zytron energy anyway?’
He turned back, sighed. ‘It’s appallingly dangerous is what it is. It’s cheap and adaptable, but unstable and hard to contain. It attacks, mutates and eventually destroys living tissue. Put bluntly, it turns whoever and whatever it infects into a ravening psychopathic monster.’
Donna pulled a face. ‘You’d better go and sort it then.
See you later, spaceman.’ Before the Doctor could turn away for the third time, she said sternly, ‘But don’t go getting into any trouble without me, OK?’
‘As if,’ said the Doctor innocently.
‘You spoil that boy,’ Sir Edgar grunted as his wife left the dining room with a tray of boiled eggs and hot buttered toast. Two minutes later her panicked cries brought everyone running.
‘What is it, Mother?’ asked Adelaide.
‘It’s Cameron. He’s gone,’ Mary replied in a weak voice, and promptly swooned in her arms.
Ten minutes later, after a thorough search of the house and grounds, it was confirmed that Cameron was nowhere to be found.
‘He’s been kidnapped, I know he has,’ said Mary, who was now lying on the chaise-longue in the drawing room, looking white and ill.
‘Nonsense,’ said Sir Edgar, though he too looked anxious.
Ronny appeared, having given the grounds another onceover. ‘His bicycle’s missing from the shed,’ he told them.
‘There you are,’ said Adelaide, trying to remain positive. ‘He’s probably gone off on one of his expeditions.’
At that moment, there came an explosive hammering on the front door. They all looked at each other, frightened by the urgency of the sound, but unwilling to speculate what it might mean. For a few moments they stood in silence, waiting. Eventually there was a tap on the drawing room door and Becharji entered.
‘Major Daker is here, sahib,’ he said to Sir Edgar.
Sir Edgar glanced at Ronny. ‘What does he want?’
‘He says that he needs to speak to you, sahib.
Urgently.’
‘Better show him in then,’ said Sir Edgar.
Seconds later Major Daker clomped into the room. He looked even more red-faced than usual – and, Adelaide noted, unusually dishevelled. He glanced round as if surprised to see them all there, and then turned his attention to Sir Edgar.
‘Begging your pardon, Sir Edgar, but I need to speak to you at once.’
‘Is it about Cameron?’ Adelaide blurted.
Daker blinked at her, surprised. ‘Cameron? No, why?
What’s he done?’
‘He’s gone missing,’ she said.
Daker stared at her for so long that she felt unsettled.
She noticed how bloodshot his eyes were, the whites almost pink.
‘Sedition,’ he muttered eventually.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Ronny.
Daker swung round on him. ‘Don’t you see? They want us out and this is their way of trying to force our hand.’
Ronny and Adelaide looked at each other, baffled.
‘Who do?’ Ronny asked.
‘The natives, of course. The Indians. I came to tell you that three of my men disappeared last night. Taken from their beds two of them, right under the noses of their colleagues.’ His eyes clouded over, as if he had lost his thread, and he rubbed vigorously at what Adelaide noticed was a darkish lump behind his left ear. Then he said, ‘It’s all very well these people fighting amongst themselves, but I tell you, they’ve overstepped the mark this time.’
A little unnerved, Adelaide said, ‘I’m sure Cameron’s not been taken by anyone. He’s been so cooped up recently, what with—’
But, with a terse shake of the head, Daker cut her off.
‘We have to come down hard on these people, show them who’s boss.’ He snapped suddenly to attention. Adelaide almost expected him to salute. ‘With your permission, Sir Edgar, I would like to instigate a thorough search of the city. It is my intention to leave no stone unturned.’
Sir Edgar wafted a hand, too anxious about his son to put up with the Major’s bluster.
‘Do whatever you think fit, Major Daker,’ he said. ‘I trust you’ll let us know the instant you hear anything of
Cameron’s whereabouts?’
‘You have my word, sir,’ Daker said, and this time he did salute.
He turned and exited the room, rubbing at the lump behind his ear.
The Doctor was a blur of movement, leaping around the TARDIS console, flicking switches and spinning dials.
When the locational calibrator stuck, he whacked it with a rubber mallet and it burped into life, like an old man shocked out of an afternoon nap. Every five seconds, he checked the scanner screen, across which a complicated mass of data was scrolling. ‘Come on, come on, get to
the point,’ he said as his eyes flickered across the numbers and symbols. Finally, after another few madcap circuits of the console, he shouted, ‘Aha! There you go, you beauty!’
He delved into his jacket. Now all he had to do was pinpoint the exact location by configuring the data with the old sonic and…
Suddenly he frowned. The sonic wasn’t there. He tried the other pocket. Not there either. Frantically he patted each of his pockets in turn, then turned them out, scattering plum stones, a rubber spider, scribbled notes, a book, a tangle of green and yellow wire, sweet wrappers, a yo-yo and all sorts of alien bits and bobs across the floor.
‘No, no, no, no, no, no, no!’ he shouted, trying to remember when he had last used the sonic, and more importantly where he had put it afterwards.
It had been in the temple. He’d used it on the glamour.
And then, and then…
He slapped himself so hard on the side of the head that it sounded like the crack of a whip.
‘Idiot!’ he yelled.
‘ Hey!’ shouted Ranjit, then wished he’d kept his mouth shut. The little kid was still some distance away, and as soon as he saw Ranjit coming, he ran.
It had been the sunlight flashing off its shiny surface which had caught Ranjit’s attention. He had turned to see the little kid showing off the Doctor’s magic torch to a group of his friends. The kid was waving the torch in the air, and all the other kids were oohing and aahing.
Straight away Ranjit realised that the torch must have flown out of the Doctor’s pocket when he had jumped down from the elephant.
Maybe the kid had seen it fly out, or maybe he had found it later in the dust. Either way, Ranjit knew that the magic torch was a very precious piece of equipment and that the Doctor would want it back.
The kid was running now, up the dusty banking onto the road, then towards the field beyond. The kid was younger than Ranjit, maybe seven or eight, but he had a good lead and the grass in the field was long enough for him to hide in.
Ranjit gave chase, his bare feet slapping the sunbaked earth, sending up a trail of dust. People turned to watch him as he pounded by, but no one challenged him or tried to stop him. He reached the top of the rise just in time to see the kid plunge into the high grass on the other side of the road. The grass came up to the kid’s neck. All Ranjit could see of him now was his head bobbing up and down, like a ball floating on a green sea.
Dr. Who - BBC New Series 25 Page 7