Doctor Who BBCN05 - Only Human
Page 9
As they moved on he told her, ‘I’ve been coming out here since we arrived, taking photos and making notes.’
‘You’ll be a big name when you go home,’ said Rose politely.
Reddy looked blankly at her.
‘You know, famous.’
‘More of your strange words,’ said Reddy. ‘“Famous”?’
‘Important. Everybody knows you.’
‘I see. Like Chantal. I won’t, and anyway why would I want that?’
Rose shrugged. ‘I dunno. It’s a good feeling, for some people. Feeling proud of what you’ve achieved.’
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‘Oh, I get it,’ said Reddy. ‘Like Quilley, wanting to be envied.’ He nodded ahead to where the Neanderthals had disappeared. ‘Or like those two – they both want to feel proud about the kill when they get back to the camp, so they do the violence thing. You’ve got a head start on me, as I don’t understand proudness. Why did people have it?’
‘I dunno, they just did,’ said Rose.
‘Why, though? What was the point?’
Rose felt she was making a breakthrough. ‘You’re interested in that?
You want to know?’
‘Yes,’ said Reddy. ‘Do you know why there was proudness?’
Rose decided to try something. ‘What if I don’t tell you?’
Reddy frowned. ‘But why wouldn’t you tell me?’
‘Maybe I’m proud about keeping it secret,’ said Rose, trying to goad him. For good measure she poked him in the ribs. ‘Come on. React!’
‘You’re giving me a wrong-feeling,’ said Reddy. His hand moved to his popper pack.
Rose knocked it down. ‘Don’t keep pressing that thing!’
Reddy smiled smugly. ‘I see, you’re a Refuser. That must make you feel very wrong.’
All Rose’s frustrations, encouraged by the natural majesty of the forest, boiled over. She grabbed the popper pack and yanked it off Reddy’s chest, then took as big a run-up as she could in the confined space and hurled it overarm into the nearest thick mass of vegetation.
‘Why did you do that?’ said Reddy simply. ‘I’ll never find it.’
‘Just try it,’ said Rose. ‘Try a bit of wrong-feeling.’
‘But I don’t want to,’ said Reddy.
‘It scares you,’ said Rose. ‘That’s a start. You wanna know why these people behave the way they do? Try it yourself!’
Reddy stood open-mouthed, staring into space for a full thirty seconds. Then he blinked and looked up at Rose. ‘That’s really clever.
Why didn’t I think of that?’ For the first time, his wet, simple smile was clouded with wonder.
The odour of woodsmoke and the sound of voices led them to the 80
Neanderthal camp. Rose pushed through a particularly tangled mess of branches and suddenly found herself in a clearing the size of a large suburban garden. There seemed to be about forty Neanderthals.
Many were gathered round a large bonfire in the centre of the clearing. A smaller group of males and females sat making spearheads in one corner, chipping away at lumps of flint with small hand-tools.
Some other men were skinning and preparing the dead pig, which on closer inspection Rose realised was an enormous wild boar. Some children were playing with little dolls made from twigs, being super-vised by a young female with all the patience of a nursery teacher. She looked up as they entered and smiled, displaying a row of gleaming white teeth.
‘Reddy!’ she cried, waving.
Rose winced. Her voice was even higher and more piercing than Das’s. To her surprise, the others in the camp barely paid them a second glance. They were obviously accustomed to Reddy’s visits.
Reddy led Rose over to the girl. ‘Hello, Ka,’ he said, nodding curtly.
Rose was astonished to see him lean down and give the Neanderthal girl a quick peck on the cheek. She was also put out when the girl, Ka, shot her a look of suspicious disquiet. It was a look Rose knew well –what are you doing with my boyfriend? The implications of it made her head reel.
‘This is Rose,’ said Reddy quickly. ‘And she’s not my girlfriend, before you get any ideas.’
Ka’s face perked up and she shook Rose’s hand. ‘Oh, you’re pretty for a Them,’ she said. ‘Very clean.’
On the back foot, Rose just smiled back and said, ‘Thanks.’
‘Are you from Osterberg too, then?’ said Ka, slipping her hairy arm casually through Reddy’s.
‘Yeah,’ said Rose, ‘kind of.’ She found herself instantly warming to Ka.
‘Well, I knew you weren’t from the Cave obviously. Sorry,’ said Ka.
Then she called out to the rest of the camp, ‘Everybody, this is Rose.
Another of the Good Them from Osterberg.’
There was a general cry of greeting and some applause.
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‘Ta,’ said Rose, rather overcome. She didn’t know quite what to do, so she just waved.
The Neanderthals laughed kindly.
‘Hey, you two should come and see this!’ said Ka. She led Rose and Reddy through a tangled path of branches at the opposite side of the camp. ‘You said you wanted to take some photos when this happened.
Sakka’s having her baby!’
They emerged into another, much smaller clearing, where a female was lying on her back, arms flung around her head. An older female, in the role of midwife, was pouring water from a rough stone bowl over her forehead and whispering soothing words. A male – obviously the expectant father – sat cross-legged at the edge of the scene, looking up occasionally and biting his nails.
‘Come on, love,’ he said, ‘give it another push.’
‘I’m trying,’ said Sakka, groaning.
‘Yeah, just butt out for a minute,’ said the midwife, gently but firmly.
‘We’re nearly there.’
Rose wanted to jump with glee at the bizarre ordinariness of it all.
The Neanderthals’ acceptance of Reddy felt odd, but then she remembered seeing TV footage of tribes in her own time that had just made contact with the outside world and took all its wonders in their stride.
The midwife looked up and glanced at Reddy. ‘You’re just in time.
Get your camera out quick.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ asked Rose considerately. She felt quite certain that if she were ever in a similar position, having photos taken would be the last thing she’d want.
Reddy stepped back and started to get his camera out of his pack.
He looked over at Rose and swallowed. His behaviour was already getting more normal, after only minutes without the popper pack. ‘I need combo 754/3,’ he whispered.
‘I don’t, so why do you?’ asked Rose.
Reddy lowered his voice. ‘This is going to be a bit disgusting.’
‘Most natural thing in the world.’
‘Exactly,’ said Reddy. ‘I’m getting too much wrong-feeling. . . This is a mistake. I should go back. I don’t want to understand if it feels like 82
this.’
Rose considered. ‘Back home we give birth, don’t we?’ she asked rhetorically, hoping she was right. ‘Get pregnant? It’s just the same.’
‘It’s not like this,’ Reddy hissed. ‘Have you ever been pregnant?’
‘No,’ said Rose.
‘Well, I have,’ said Reddy emphatically. He gestured to the groaning Sakka. ‘And it was two days of bliss. Nothing like that.’
The Doctor finished his examination of the engine at last. He emerged from the underside and stretched his long legs, only to discover Quilley asleep against a wall. He walked over and gently flicked him on the nose.
‘Something’s bleeding power off the engine,’ he said.
Quilley woke with a start. ‘Oh, Doctor,’ he said, momentarily disori-ented. ‘Just resting my eyes. I was having a most marvellous dream, filled with sensation –’
‘Please don’t go on,’ said the Doctor, interrupting him. ‘That’s probably gonn
a be really boring.’ He then smiled and pointed to a thick metal pipe that ran from one end of the engine into the far wall. ‘The engine’s fully powered up. Not just ticking over, like it should be. And most of the power it’s producing goes down there. So where does that lead?’
Quilley said nothing.
‘Eh?’ demanded the Doctor.
Quilley shrugged. ‘How do you expect me to know? I’m a zoo-tech.
Ask me how to fix up an elephant with diarrhoea or something.’
‘I know that already,’ said the Doctor. ‘So where’s your engineer?’
Quilley looked puzzled.
‘Engine-tech? Mech-tech?’ suggested the Doctor.
‘Mech-tech,’ Quilley confirmed. ‘I asked Chantal that. The Committee said we didn’t need one. It’s all being worked from their end.’ He studied the Doctor’s expression. ‘That look on your face makes me start to wonder if they know what they’re doing.’
‘Breaking news – they don’t,’ said the Doctor. ‘But someone here’s a mech-tech, all right.’ He pointed to where the pipe curled into the 83
engine and indicated a patch of dull silver scarring. ‘This has been soldered recently, since you came here anyway.’ A thought struck him.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a plan of this town?’
Quilley delved into a pocket of his waistcoat. ‘Here you go. Came with the welcome pack.’
The Doctor took it eagerly and unfolded it neatly over the top of the engine. He located the engine room and traced a line across from it with a long index finger. ‘OK, so the pipe must lead. . . there.’ He tapped at an unmarked section, a small blank area at the edge of the cave. ‘What’s that?’
‘That’ll be the Grey Door,’ said Quilley. ‘Now that you mention it, you’re right, there is a big pipe going into the side of it.’
‘Oh, the Grey Door,’ mused the Doctor. ‘And what’s behind the Grey Door?’
‘I assumed it was just some more of this mechanical gubbins,’ said Quilley.
The Doctor sighed and folded up the map. ‘But you never bothered to have a look?’
‘Why would I?’ said Quilley. ‘I’ve spent most of my time here studying mammoth droppings.’
‘Fantastic,’ said the Doctor with heavy irony. ‘The only person in Osterberg with any potential for natural initiative and you just happen to be one of those people who haven’t got any natural initiative.’
‘It’s only a ruddy pipe,’ said Quilley. ‘So, is it significant?’
The Doctor was already heading out of the engine room. ‘Yeah.
Could be very significant.’
‘I’m excited,’ said Quilley, hurrying a little to keep up. ‘Are you excited?’
The Doctor considered. ‘I’m worried and excited.’
Quilley’s eyes lit up. ‘You can do both at the same time?’
‘Better than that. Right now I’m worried, excited and curious.’
Quilley thought for a second. Then he slapped the Doctor heartily on the back and roared, ‘So am I!’
The tiny Neanderthal baby screamed and kicked at the sky. Rose 84
watched as the midwife leaned over and in a routine way bit de-cisively through the umbilical cord and then poured water over the child. ‘It’s a girl,’ she told Sakka soothingly.
Sakka sat up just a little, her head cradled by the father, and took the baby into her arms.
What lies ahead for that little girl, Rose wondered, born into a race that would, in a short while, disappear for ever? She longed to be able to point these trusting people to a bright future, but she knew there was no hope. Their species was going to die. She wasn’t sure how close this was to the end for them. Perhaps these individuals could make it through. . .
She tried to push the thought to the back of her mind and knelt down to share the Neanderthal family’s happiness. It didn’t feel like an intrusion.
The midwife took her hand. ‘Are you a wise woman of Them?’
‘Well, don’t know about that, but I’m not totally thick,’ said Rose.
The midwife gently stroked her cheek. ‘Your skin’s soft, like Reddy’s.
He’s a good man. You’re not like the Them from the Cave.’ She hesitated for a second, then asked plaintively, ‘Do you know why they hate us?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Rose truthfully. ‘I don’t know how anybody could.’
She remembered her task for the Doctor and asked, ‘Oh, do you know a man from here called Das?’
‘You’ve seen him?’ The midwife’s eyes lit up. ‘We thought he was dead, killed by Them or an animal. Where is he? Where’s he gone?’
Rose swallowed and tried her best to lie. For once it would probably be easier than telling the truth. ‘He told me to tell you he’s OK and not to worry about him. He won’t be coming back, but he’s happy where he is. It’s a good place.’
To her own ears she sounded faltering and unconvincing, but the midwife clearly believed her.
‘I must let everybody know,’ she told Sakka. ‘Everything’s fine now.
You just lie there for a while.’ She got up and hurried back into the main clearing, crying, ‘Rose has brought news about Das! He’s fine!’
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Feeling guilty, Rose nodded awkwardly to the young couple and backed out into the bushes. She could hear the cries of excitement and relief from the Neanderthals as the midwife’s news spread, and pangs of regret and shame burned in her heart. She had never felt more ashamed of being human.
Because it was humans who were going to slaughter these people –and they were people – to extinction.
She looked around for Reddy, who had backed off quickly after taking a few photographs. A flash of denim blue in the trees a little way distant caught her eye and she was just about to call out to him when something stopped her. Reddy was kissing Ka. Not a quick peck this time. A full-on snog with tongues.
Rose crept up, trying to keep herself hidden behind a tree trunk.
She risked a peek and saw that Ka had broken the kiss and was smiling up at Reddy.
‘I’ve been wanting you to do that ever since you first came here,’ she said. ‘And I thought the boys here were slow on the uptake! Could I have flirted any more obviously?’
‘Flirted,’ said Reddy slowly. ‘We don’t have that word.’ He caressed her cheek, nuzzling his face in her hair. ‘You know, we really shouldn’t be doing this. . . ’
Ka pulled a mischievous face. ‘That’s what makes it good. No one from our lot’s ever kissed a Them before.’
Reddy bit his lip and flushed. It was the first sign of humanity Rose had seen in any of the Osterbergers but Quilley. ‘This is a wrong-feeling and a good-feeling, all at the same time.’ He traced his fingers delicately over Ka’s features. ‘Where I come from, when we kiss it isn’t like that. We take combo 934/77 now and then, and pair up with whoever’s nearest.’
Rose raised both eyebrows. Well, at least that answered one question she’d been dying to ask.
‘You don’t love?’ asked Ka, fascinated.
‘Yes, that’s combo 857/87,’ said Reddy. ‘But it’s nothing like this.’
They kissed again.
Rose gave herself a big thumbs-up. Twenty minutes off the drugs 86
and Reddy was turning normal, kissing an inappropriate girl. As the couple slid gently to the ground and started pawing each other, Rose realised this was the sort of private occasion you really didn’t want to intrude on and started slipping away.
And then, without warning, there was a great commotion.
It happened too quickly for Rose to take it all in. Several things seemed to occur at once. There was the noise of the forest being invaded: branches cracking, running feet, and yells – low-pitched, human yells. The Neanderthals leaped up in fright as one, several of the men grabbing their short spears. And then cavemen – real human cavemen – burst into the clearing.
They were bearded, dressed in skins and smocks, their faces dyed b
lue. Several whirled primitive axes, while others carried long spears, which they let fly through the air. Rose watched as a Neanderthal man was caught by a spear and crashed to the ground.
It was the invasion of the humans. With their casual laughter and bullies’ gusto, they reminded Rose of nothing so much as football hooligans. Furious, she reached for her stinger, aimed it into the clearing and twisted it on at full volume. The thrashing metal boomed out over the scene.
She realised this was a bad idea very quickly. Instead of frightening the humans, it attracted them to her. A couple of the invading men burst through the bushes and grabbed her, knocking the stinger out of her hands. She kicked and punched to no avail. One of the laughing men held her still, then the other took what looked like a hide sack from inside the skin he was wearing and pulled it over her head.
Rose tasted her own blood in her mouth. The musty smell of the sack overpowered her and, just as she felt herself being lifted up and carried off, she blacked out.
The Doctor ran his hands over the huge locking mechanism of the Grey Door. It was a rectangular metal box built into the door itself.
He whistled. ‘Now that’s what I call a lock.’
‘Ah, we call it that too,’ said Quilley.
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The Doctor produced the sonic screwdriver from his jacket and held it proudly in front of Quilley’s face. ‘So what do you call this?’
‘A pen,’ said Quilley.
‘Wrong,’ said the Doctor, and set to work. The tip of the sonic screwdriver lit up with its familiar blue glow and it buzzed busily.
‘I suppose there’s a computer in that, then,’ said Quilley.
‘There are twenty-nine computers in it,’ said the Doctor. He stopped for a second and put his ear to the lock. ‘Hang on a second. Did you hear that?’
‘That awful buzzing, yes,’ said Quilley.
‘No, not that,’ said the Doctor. ‘Coming from inside.’
Quilley pressed his ear to the door.
Very faintly a woman’s voice said, ‘Hello. . . ’
‘Hello,’ the Doctor called back. ‘Who is that?’
The voice said quietly, ‘Chantal sent me down here to the Grey Door. . . but there’s something wrong. . . I’m feeling wrong now. . .