by Doctor Who
Rose watched as the liquid shot out under pressure and poured down over the nearest creatures, but it proved no more effective than the bombs had been.
Kendle had now joined the women in hurling the largest lumps of trisilicate they could find at the creatures. Despite their best efforts, however, the Witiku were beginning to get much higher up the crystal mountain.
‘Perhaps the others will get help?’ Rose suggested.
The Doctor was looking around, desperately.
‘Hang about,’ he said. ‘How did these crystals get here?’
‘The locals collect them,’ the professor answered.
‘They find them in their fields,’ added Rose
‘Yeah, yeah, I know that, but how do they get here? In a pile like this? They’re not going to come through that door with a wheelbarrow full and lob them up here, are they? For one thing, they don’t have wheelbarrows. . . ’
Rose realised what he was saying. ‘You mean, it’s like a coal cellar?’
Mickey’s gran used to live in an old terraced council house which had a coal cellar. Rose remembered Mickey telling her how he used to play in it until one day he got locked in by mistake and had never 142
gone near the place again. If this trisilicate store operated the same way there must be –
‘A trapdoor!’ announced the Doctor, delighted.
He was holding the flaming torch high in the air. The ceiling to the room was about two metres away from where they were precariously balanced on the trisilicate mountain and directly above them they could see a wooden trapdoor.
‘Shall I give you a leg-up?’ suggested the Doctor, passing his torch to the professor and then holding his hands together.
Rose planted her foot and pushed up, then swung her legs round to sit on the Doctor’s shoulders. Now her head was pushing against the trapdoor. She positioned her hands on the panel and shoved.
It was stiff and heavy but she could feel it gradually succumbing to the pressure. She tried again, wincing with the effort. The roars of the Witiku were getting closer. With a final burst of strength, Rose thrust her arms up and the trapdoor gave way. The twin doors moved apart and fell away to the sides. Rose then quickly scrambled up into the room above. The Doctor passed her a torch and then helped the professor to follow Rose to safety.
Rose helped the professor to her feet and gave her the torch to hold.
As the professor backed away from the hatch to make room for the Doctor and Kendle, something suddenly snatched it from her grasp.
Sharp talons curled around her neck. Another Witiku? But this one seemed smaller than the others. A voice close to her ear confirmed that this was no ordinary Witiku.
‘Close the hatch,’ it ordered in a husky growl.
Rose whirled round in surprise.
To her horror she saw that it was Brother Hugan. He was inside the Witiku costume that Rez had been wearing when she first met him.
More importantly, he was holding the professor hostage.
‘Close the hatch,’ he repeated, ‘or she dies here.’
‘Rose?’ It was the Doctor’s voice floating up from below. ‘Is there a problem?’
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Rose couldn’t take her eyes away from Brother Hugan. He made to rake the talons across the petrified professor’s neck. The threat was clear. She really had no choice.
With a lump in her throat, Rose flipped the twin doors shut again, trapping the Doctor and Kendle with the monsters and leaving herself at the mercy of the madman. Things surely couldn’t get any worse!
Without any torches, Hespell and Baker were literally running in the dark. They had stumbled and fallen more than once and had been forced to slow the pace of their escape. Rez, who knew the terrain best, was leading the way, but he kept having to slow down to allow the other two to catch up. Still, at least they could not hear any sounds of pursuit behind them. It seemed that the creatures were more interested in the humans trapped in the trisilicate store than in them.
‘But we can’t just leave them,’ gasped Baker, as she stopped to catch her breath.
Hespell came to a halt too and looked at his colleague. His eyes were adjusting to the scant light now and he could see the conflicting emotions on her face. They both felt the same way: guilty about fleeing and yet scared to do anything to help.
‘I know – but what can we do?’ he replied.
Rez came back to find them.
‘We need to keep moving,’ he told them.
‘Ssh!’ Baker said suddenly. ‘I think I heard something.’
Rez looked around, startled. She was right. There were sounds coming from further down the corridor ahead of them. Were they trapped between two separate groups of Witiku?
Hespell took Baker’s hand again and pulled her close, so he could put a protective arm around her. Rez moved ahead, towards the sounds. A light was now clearly visible, moving towards them.
‘Hello?’ Rez called out nervously.
Figures appeared in the gloom, but they were not Witiku. It was a group of the natives, led by Mother Jaelette and Kaylen.
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The younger Layloran rushed to hug her adopted brother. Embarrassed, Rez detached himself.
‘The Witiku have the Doctor and the others trapped in the crystal store,’ he told them urgently. ‘The Doctor’s jinnera solution didn’t work.’
Jaelette nodded, grim-faced. ‘The idea was good but the dose is not strong enough,’ she told them. She raised her hand and showed them that she was holding a sharpened section of jinnen bush. ‘Maybe this will be more effective.’
Hespell and Baker had been listening intently.
‘Have you any spares?’ asked Hespell, indicating the homemade weapon.
‘Plenty,’ answered Jaelette. ‘When Kaylen came back and told us the Doctor’s plan, I thought about all the stories Brother Hugan has told us about our history. And I also thought about how we kill the animals in the killing pits. We use this traditional wooden spear, which is called a witona – it means “talon of the Witiku”. You see, we coat the spear in the thickest jinnen bean paste.’ She showed them the dark points of the weapons.
She then nodded at the dozen or so Laylorans with her and a couple of the witona spears were produced for Baker and Hespell. The new weapons were about half a metre in length, long enough to throw or jab at the enemy, though not without risk.
‘You would have to get very close to use these,’ commented Rez, as he took a weapon for himself.
‘Then we shall just have to be careful,’ Jaelette said firmly, and headed towards the fight.
The Doctor and Kendle were back to back on the summit of the trisilicate mountain, surrounded on all sides by Witiku. The creatures were getting closer with every passing second. Kendle produced a laser weapon from a holster.
‘No!’ ordered the Doctor firmly. ‘No energy weapons. We mustn’t forget that these are all innocent Laylorans.’
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Kendle regarded the approaching creatures, which were swinging their talons in front of them as they came. ‘They’re not going to cut us any slack, though, are they?’ He raised his weapon again.
‘I said no!’ the Doctor repeated angrily.
‘And I heard you. I’ll fire at their feet, try and dislodge them. OK?’
Without waiting for an answer, Kendle did exactly as he had said.
Shooting just beneath the feet of the nearest Witiku, he blasted a size-able hole in the uneven surface of the crystal mountain. The Witiku overbalanced and toppled backwards, taking two of its fellows down at the same time. The trio tumbled over and over, roaring furiously.
‘Nice shooting,’ the Doctor commented.
‘Thank you,’ Kendle responded, swinging round to try the same trick on the other side.
The Doctor’s eyes were caught by some activity near the doorway.
‘Look,’ he cried, pointing.
There was a blaze of light as fresh torches came into the chamber, illuminating
the Layloran counter-attack. Hespell and Baker led the charge, heading straight for the trio of Witiku still getting to their feet. They hurled their spears into the nearest two and then backed off to allow Mother Jaelette, who was hard on their heels, to hit the third. On the other side of the room, Kaylen and the other Laylorans attacked the Witiku that were still climbing.
‘It’s the cavalry,’ grinned the Doctor.
To his delight, the two creatures attacked by Hespell and Baker were already shaking, convulsing and beginning to transform, exactly like Brother Hugan had in the spaceship hold.
The rest of the Laylorans flooded into the chamber, firing their spears at the remaining Witiku. The creatures all fell quickly, shuddering, and began to change shape. In just a few moments of action the situation had been completely turned around. Instead of a crowd of angry creatures there were numerous dazed and naked Laylorans lying all over the room. Mother Jaelette had come prepared, however, and a number of her party were carrying blankets, clothes and moccasins. Others had water and dressings to deal with the flesh wounds made by the spears.
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The immediate danger over, the Doctor and Kendle clambered down to the floor of the chamber and joined the rescue party. Among the recovering Laylorans, who had recently been Witiku, were the missing Aerack, Serenta and Purin. All three were very pale and shaken, having spent longest in the transformed state. As soon as the victims were able to walk the other Laylorans began taking them back up to the surface.
Mother Jaelette came over to join the Doctor and the humans. They watched together as the Layloran rescue party and the recovering ex-Witiku filed out of the chamber.
‘Thank you,’ the Doctor said simply.
‘It was your idea,’ replied Jaelette. ‘We just improved on the delivery method.’
‘Well, I’m glad you did.’ The Doctor glanced around. ‘Have we accounted for everyone who was missing?’
‘Everyone except Brother Hugan,’ Jaelette told him.
The Doctor looked suddenly alarmed. ‘Rose and the professor!’
Kendle knew immediately what the Doctor was thinking.
‘What is the room above this chamber?’ he demanded of the native woman.
Jaelette, thought for a moment, working her way through a mental map of the cellars.
The Hall of Offering,’ she announced finally.
‘What kind of offering?’ asked the Doctor darkly, not liking the sound of that at all.
‘It was used in the dark times,’ Jaelette explained, looking embarrassed. ‘Our ancestors were. . . more primitive. They used to believe that it was necessary to make sacrifices to Laylora.’
‘Sacrifices? What kind of sacrifices?’
Mother Jaelette looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
‘People,’ she said in a quiet voice. They used to sacrifice people.’
Professor Shulough was utterly helpless. The madman had made Rose tie her hands and her feet. The girl had done her best to make the knots as loose as possible, but the professor was no escapologist. She 147
had been left lying on the cold stone floor at the foot of one of the giant statues that lined the ceremonial chamber they were now in.
Rose, meanwhile, was lying on the large stone altar in the centre of the room. The Layloran shaman had used a pad soaked in jinnera to knock the poor girl out and for the last few minutes the professor had seen little sign of life from her. Perhaps this was a kindness.
Brother Hugan had produced a vicious-looking curved knife, which he had offered up to the various statues for approval. The professor had winced, fearing that he was going to plunge it into Rose’s heart without any further delay, but instead he had placed the sacrificial knife by her side and started to intone a chant.
She realised, with some relief, that this was a ceremony with a very strict running order. The act of sacrifice would be the climax. Before then, the shaman would have to go through a number of ritual acts.
With luck it would give her the time she needed. She began to wrestle with her bonds anew, encouraged by the slight give she could feel in the knots.
The shaman was now performing some kind of dance, crying out like a wild animal as he flailed his arms around. The talons on his costume scythed through the air above Rose’s prone body.
Suddenly the professor was aware of a new arrival. Out of the corner of her eye she had the impression of a familiar dark-suited figure striding confidently into the room.
‘Hey, old fella,’ shouted the Doctor, coming to a halt. ‘I want a word with you.’
The shaman stopped his chant and reached for the knife.
‘Hold it right there,’ ordered the Doctor, in such a commanding voice that the costumed Brother Hugan found himself obeying.
‘Laylora must be appeased,’ the Layloran insisted, his voice cracking with emotion.
His eyes were wild, the Doctor noted. Clearly the strain of recent events had pushed him over the edge. ‘Laylora doesn’t need you to kill anyone,’ the Doctor began, in a more considered tone.
The shaman shook his head. ‘She is angry. Only the blood of an outsider will appease her.’
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‘You reckon?’
The Doctor was moving now, pacing back and forth, hands thrust deep into his pockets. The shaman’s head followed the movement, like a spectator at Wimbledon, one way and then the other, almost hypnotised.
‘Because I don’t. Thing is, you see,’ the Doctor continued, suddenly stopping his pacing and pointing at the shaman, ‘you’ve almost got it right.’ He waved an arm around, taking in the chamber, the temple, the whole planet. ‘Laylora is like a living creature. This place, this planet, it’s perfect. . . everything in balance, everything. Only the trouble is, it’s too perfect. Stick something in this system that doesn’t belong here and all hell’s let loose.’
Behind the Doctor, at the entrance to the hall, Kendle, Baker, Rez and some of the other Laylorans entered slowly, but held back to allow the Doctor to remain the focus of the shaman’s attention. The Doctor, although aware of them, didn’t look round. He concentrated on Brother Hugan and continued to speak.
‘Laylora doesn’t need a sacrifice. She doesn’t need “appeasing”. She needs relief. She’s suffering an allergic reaction – to us outsiders.
You remember when the humans came before? Fifty years ago? Mr Guillan and his people? They worked it out. They saw it happen.
Their presence here caused the same reaction.’
The Doctor could see that he was getting close now. The shaman was listening to him.
‘If we all just leave, everything will go back to normal,’ he promised Brother Hugan. ‘No more earthquakes. No wild weather. No random electromagnetic pulses firing out into space, crippling spaceships.’
In his peripheral vision, the Doctor could see that Rez had separated from the ever-growing crowd at the entrance. He was slowly crawling around the edge of the massive room.
The lapse in the Doctor’s monologue had given Brother Hugan a chance to break free of his spell.
‘No!’ he cried, raising the knife into the air again.
The Doctor realised that his gambit had failed. Time for plan D. Or 149
was it E? As usual, he was in danger of running out of code letters for his improvisations.
‘Wait,’ he cried, dashing forward.
‘Keep back,’ shouted Brother Hugan warningly.
The Doctor stopped, his hands held out. He flicked the quickest of glances sideways and saw that Rez had reached a statue near to the altar and had begun to climb up it, keeping to the side furthest from the shaman’s view. The Doctor just needed to buy him some more time.
‘If Laylora needs a sacrifice then give her a proper one,’ suggested the Doctor, changing tack.
The shaman waved at the prone figure on the slab of rock before him, enjoying the feel of the mock-Witiku talons as they brushed through Rose’s hair.
‘I intend to,’ he told the Doctor.
> ‘Not her,’ said the Doctor dismissively. ‘She’s no one. Just another human. They’re ten a penny.’
Rose, who was stirring back into consciousness, couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She half-opened her eyes to try and work out what was going on. Realising that she was lying on the altar stone, it didn’t take a great leap of imagination to guess. She didn’t dare move as Brother Hugan and his huge knife were too close.
‘If you’re going to do this properly, sacrifice a real alien,’ suggested the Doctor. ‘How about one with two hearts? One who’s the very last of his kind? Now that’s what I call a sacrifice, eh? Am I right or am I right?’
Brother Hugan hesitated, the knife still in mid-air.
‘You are offering yourself to die for Laylora?’
‘Last of the Time Lords,’ said the Doctor, throwing his hands in the air proudly. ‘The one and only. A genuine dodo – last specimen of an extinct breed. You want to make a sacrifice to appease the great and bountiful Laylora – better make it a good ’un.’
The Doctor stood waiting for a response. The shaman was clearly mad but not so far gone that he couldn’t appreciate an offer like this.
Meanwhile, off to one side, Rez had disappeared behind the head of 150
the statue he had climbed. Hopefully he would get around the other side and be in a position to rescue Rose in another few moments.
On the altar, Rose was now awake and fully aware of the situation.
Her wide eyes met the Doctor’s and, to her delight, he winked at her quickly. She prepared herself, cottoning on that he had something in mind.
‘Come on, then, old fella. What about it?’
The shaman took a step back, considering. Suddenly a new voice rang out. It was Professor Shulough from the back of the chamber.
Kendle had found and untied her during the Doctor’s intervention.
‘Don’t listen to him,’ she cried.
The Doctor glared back at her. Not now!
But the professor ignored the look and continued moving forward.
‘Don’t take him. Take me. It was my spaceship that crashed here. If you want a sacrifice, take me!’