BBC Cult Dr Who - The Sands Of Time

by BBCi Cult

  Then the calm of the river bank was broken. A noise like thunder rose from the river, swelling and vibrating. The sound ground its way heavily into a grating rhythm louder than the cry of a hippopotamus. It grew louder with each discordant strain until it crescendoed with a thump of achievement.

  The tree quivered and shook as a heavy object washed up against it, jamming hard in the mud. In a moment it was quiet again. Just the river, the breeze, the reeds and the tree. And the solid blue box of the TARDIS stuck fast in the muddy bank of the ancient river Nile.

  Atkins was beginning to lose his cool. And not before time, thought Tegan. He seemed to have taken being accosted by cloaked and hooded figures and bundled into a large sarcophagus almost in his stride. But Tegan had been pleased to see that he took slightly longer to adjust to the fact that the sarcophagus was in fact a dimensionally transcendental TARDIS in which the Doctor and Tegan were quite relieved to find themselves. Even so, he seemed remarkably unperturbed considering.

  'An interesting phenomenon, Doctor,' he had commented. 'I'm sure his lordship would be most intrigued to examine it. He has an interest in such things, as I am sure you are aware.'

  After that he seemed perfectly happy to stand straight and still, with his hands firmly clasped behind his back. He watched the image on the scanner together with Tegan and the Doctor, but apart from verifying that the pictures being relayed showed that the TARDIS was being carried from the British Museum, over a bridge and then dropped into the Thames, he displayed very little interest in the technology behind the display of the images or the stability of the floor considering the movement of the exterior.

  'It's merely a window, is it not?' he replied when Tegan asked him why he was not surprised.

  She saw the Doctor stifle a grin. She hung her cloak on the hatstand and thought about this. Perhaps Atkins was right. From her twentieth century perspective, everything had to be a technological marvel. From Atkins' point of view, it was a new version of an established and unremarkable concept. The difference was in what he assumed, and in his attitude of disinterest.

  'Actually, it's very sad,' the Doctor murmured to Tegan as she stomped off to join him at the console.

  'What is?'

  The Doctor nodded towards where Atkins stood watching them with apparent disinterest. 'No sense of wonder,' the Doctor said quietly. 'He's lost the fascination and awe, thrown out the child when he became an adult. Sad.'

  Tegan looked at Atkins again. He did not look particularly sad, or as if he had any notion that he was missing out on anything. Particularly wonder.

  'Boring, more like,' Tegan said as they landed.

  Without bothering to check the scanner, the Doctor pushed the red lever which opened the door, and ushered Tegan and Atkins out into the heat.

  And that was when Atkins began to lose his cool.

  Tegan too had felt the heat immediately. Leaving the TARDIS was like walking into a spongy wall. But while the sudden change had seemed to disorient Atkins and leave him even more perplexed that the interior of the TARDIS, to Tegan it was like coming home to Brisbane in high summer.

  The Doctor stood hands in pockets, hat on head, and surveyed the scenery. Atkins stood, mouth open without saying anything. Tegan called out that she was off to change into something cooler as she hurried back into the TARDIS, her long skirts sweeping a trail of damp mud after her.

  By the time she re-emerged, back in her rather lighter and cooler chemise and culottes, Atkins and the Doctor were engaged in conversation. Atkins was pointing into the hazy distance while the Doctor stared at his feet, which were shuffling in the sand. Tegan climbed up the muddy river bank to join them.

  'Doctor,' Atkins was saying, 'I am quite prepared to accept your word for it that this is indeed Egypt.'

  'Thank you.'

  'I have been to the country with his lordship on several expeditions and recognize the general climate and landscape.' Atkins gestured round, nodding to Tegan as he noticed she had rejoined them. His nod stopped short as he noticed her attire. But he recovered himself almost immediately and returned to his point. 'However, I cannot accept that those are the great pyramids.'

  'Why not?' Tegan asked as she shielded her eyes from the bright sun and stared in the direction Atkins had indicated. 'At least they don't look too far away.'

  Atkins and the Doctor both stared at her.

  'Er,' Tegan felt she ought to say something. 'They are quite big, though.'

  'Bigger than you think,' the Doctor said. 'Several days' walk, at least.'

  'You're kidding.'

  The Doctor shook his head. 'Remember the first time you saw a wide-bodied airliner?'

  She nodded. Atkins looked blankly from the Doctor to Tegan.

  'Was it as big as you had imagined?' the Doctor asked.

  Tegan laughed. 'Much bigger. Huge. I though it might be as big as a small house, but it was bigger than a street.'

  'Well,' the Doctor pointed to the largest of the pyramids on the horizon. 'Inside that one, you could fit nearly nine hundred of those, and leave room to walk round and look at them.'

  Tegan thought about this. 'Big, then.'

  'Huge,' the Doctor agreed.

  Atkins coughed politely and broke the ensuing silence. 'I would contend, however, that the suggestion that those are the great pyramids of Giza is not sustained. While their configuration and size is, I shall admit, the same, Miss Jovanka -'

  'Tegan,' she cut in.

  'Miss Tegan,' Atkins corrected himself without hesitation, 'you will see at once that their constitution is entirely different. You will observe, for example, that they are rather lighter in colour, almost shining as they reflect the sunlight. The tops too are of quite a different appearance.'

  As Tegan's view cleared and her eyes adjusted to the heat-haze, she could see what Atkins meant. The pyramids were on the horizon, the sun seemingly right above them. And they gleamed in the reflected light. Tegan had never been to Egypt before, though she had seen numerous photographs and films of the pyramids. The structures she knew were of sand-coloured stone, ragged at the edges and blunted slightly at the tops. These buildings were subtly different.

  They were gleaming white, clean as porcelain. And their perfectly outlined shapes were topped with gold. The pyramids Tegan knew were magnificent; these were magnificent too, but they were also splendid.

  Beside her, the Doctor sighed. 'Those are, I'm afraid, the pyramids you know, Mister Atkins.' He gazed at them for a moment, shaking his head in obvious admiration. 'Inexplicable splendour of ionian white and gold,' he muttered. Then he turned back to Atkins. 'There is just one small thing I should explain, though.'

  'Don't tell us, Doctor,' Tegan said. 'This is ancient Egypt, right?'

  The Doctor nodded.

  'Terrific.'

  'Ancient Egypt?' Atkins asked. 'I am not familiar with the place, I'm afraid.'

  'It's not a place,' Tegan told him, 'it's a time.'

  Atkins gaped again. He was getting rather good at it, Tegan thought.

  'No,' he said at last. 'You cannot seriously expect me to believe that I have been transported back thousands of years in time. That is simply incredible.'

  'Oh really?,' the Doctor smiled. 'More incredible than being transported thousands of miles? You seemed to accept that with equanimity.'

  Atkins considered. And while he did, Tegan edged closer to the Doctor. 'I thought you said we couldn't prevent what happened to Nyssa,' she said quietly. 'So why are we here?'

  'I don't think we can,' the Doctor replied. 'Time is already set in its course, crystallized upon a particular web-way. But we have to try.'

  'That's not what you said when we wanted to go back and save Adric.' There was a note of accusation in her voice. Atkins had been about to say something, but he seemed to sense the tension, and kept his peace.

  The Doctor did not answer at once. He looked down at the TARDIS, and then back towards the distant pyramids. Finally he turned to face Tegan, and looked he
r directly in the eye. 'When Adric died, I knew we couldn't save him. Just as I know we can't stop what happened to Nyssa. Everything I have learned about how Time works, about my - our - relationship with it tells me that's the case.' He turned away, looking back at the TARDIS, lying wedged against a dead tree while the river Nile washed round its base.

  'So?'

  'So.' The Doctor turned back to Tegan. He smiled a sad half-smile and placed a hand on her shoulder. 'What if I'm wrong?'

  They stood in silence for a while. Then the Doctor set off across the sand towards the pyramids. 'Come along, we've a long walk ahead of us.'

  Atkins shrugged and followed. Tegan waited a moment before she too started walking.

  'It is time.' Amosis stood in the doorway.

  Sitamun looked up as he spoke. She had been washing Nyssa's feet, now she dried them quickly with a rough cloth, and cleared away the bowl and water.

  'Already?' Nyssa asked. The last day had been a waking nightmare. She had tried to leave the temple, but each time been escorted back by priests with short swords. She had assumed she had some time - perhaps years even - before whatever ritual fate awaited her was enacted. But she had no doubt from Amosis' tone and his words what he meant.

  'The high priest will escort you to the procession,' Amosis said. 'Everything will be according to the Spells for Coming Forth by Day.'

  'Really? At least it sounds nice.' Nyssa tried to sound defiant and sarcastic. She tried to sound like Tegan. But her words seemed to herself more like those of a child.

  Her last attempts at defiance ended when Amosis said: 'It is also known as the Book of the Dead.'

  In the following silence, Sitamun bowed to Nyssa. 'I shall watch the ceremony though I may not attend it. And I shall pray to Anubis for your ba, your soul,' she said. Nyssa could see that the handmaiden's eyes were moist, but even so she was surprised when Sitamun leaned suddenly forward and kissed her on the cheek. 'May you heart weigh heavy, Nyssa,' she said. The she turned and ran from the room.

  Nyssa stared after her. Sitamun had never called her by her real name before.

  As she watched the doorway, a figure appeared from outside, paused silhouetted on the threshold, then stepped into the room. He was short, like all the Egyptians Nyssa had met, but quite broadly built. His head was shaved and he wore a ceremonial chain of office round his neck hanging over his bare chest.

  'You?' Nyssa gasped.

  The newcomer looked surprised. 'My goddess? We have not met before. I am the high priest of Nephthys.'

  'Rassul,' Nyssa said quietly, 'I know. We may not have met before,' Nyssa told him, 'but we shall. We shall.'

  'I doubt it,' Rassul said. 'Today is a day for celebration. Today is the day of your funeral.'

  Nyssa thought for a word or phrase he might remember in the years ahead. She struggled to remember some detail that might hit home or make an impression. That might hurt. 'I have heard it said that a father should not outlive his children,' she said quietly.

  It certainly had an effect. Rassul swayed on his heels, the shock flaring in his eyes. 'I would not pray for your father,' he said at last, 'but for his daughter.'

  The face was enormous, jutting up from the sand as if dropped from above into the desert. They could see it from miles away, slowly looming larger as they approached.

  'That, I do recognize,' Atkins said as they got close enough to begin to make out the details of the features - the line of the cheek and the fractured nose.

  'The Great Sphinx,' the Doctor agreed.

  'But, it's buried.' Tegan could recognize the face too now, but without the huge lion's body to support it, the nature of the statue was completely changed.

  They walked round it once. 'People have been digging it out ever since it was built,' the Doctor said. 'Whenever that was.'

  'You mean you don't know?' Tegan teased.

  'Well, not exactly. Always meant to pop back and see. But the trouble with being a Time Lord is that you never seem to have the time.' He grinned and motioned for them to continue towards the still distant pyramids. As Tegan approached he put an arm round her shoulder. 'The Egyptians call the Great Sphinx Abu el Hob,' he told her.

  'The Father of Terror,' Atkins said quietly as he joined them.

  'Yes,' the Doctor seemed surprised. 'A rather literal translation, but accurate nonetheless.'

  The wrappings were tight and smelled of resin. Nyssa struggled, trying to tear her limbs from the priests who held them pressed against her body. But as the embalmers continued their work, seemingly oblivious to Nyssa's shouts and struggles, she felt her power of movement more and more restricted. Sitamun had not returned, and Nyssa felt alone, helpless, and terrified. Rassul stood watching as the embalmers completed their work.

  Only Nyssa's head was now free of the linen wrappings. Amosis was behind her, and she twisted to see what he was doing. He seemed to be mixing powders in a small bowl. As she strained to watch, he dripped some liquid from a small earthenware bottle on to the powder. Immediately it started to bubble and smoke. Amosis held the bowl away from him, taking care not to inhale the fumes, and turned to Rassul.

  Rassul took the smoking bowl. He too avoided breathing in the smoke which was now drifting across the room. Nyssa could smell the pungent aroma, it was like the ceremonial incense burned on Traken at religious ceremonies. As Rassul brought the bowl closer she tried to pull away. But her entire body was held firm within the wrappings.

  'The start of eternity,' Rassul said quietly as he held the bowl one-handed under Nyssa's chin. 'Drink deep of the fumes of oblivion and know what it is to join Osiris in his netherworld of darkness.'

  Nyssa tried to keep her head upright, to pull her face away from the smoke rising from the bowl. But with his free hand, Rassul grabbed her hair and forced her to look down into the fumes.

  'No, the Doctor will stop you.' Nyssa hoped she sounded confident, but she doubted the Doctor would find her now. 'He always stops people like you.' She struggled for a moment, shaking her head and trying to pull away. But already she could feel consciousness slipping from her.

  'No, please -'

  Nyssa's eyes closed, the smoke stinging under her eyelids.

  'Tell me about the Doctor.' Rassul's voice floated through the mist, quiet and reasonable.

  The smoke was her world, and she felt herself drifting into a deep sleep. The sounds and smells of the room around her, including her own voice as she obeyed Rassul's command, floated into the distance. Her last thought as she lost consciousness, her last thought for millennia, was that wherever she was going, she might find her father.

  From his expeditions with Lord Kenilworth, and from general interest, Atkins knew a little of the history and geography of Egypt. When Kenilworth had first started his excursions, obsessed with the notion of making new and exciting discoveries, Atkins had been the only other member of the party. While he was not one to show overt appreciation or emotion, some of his employer's enthusiasm and passion had rubbed off. Atkins had passed many of the lonely evenings in Cairo hotels, while Kenilworth tried vainly to drum up financial support, reading through some of his employer's textbooks and reference works on the subject. If Kenilworth had noticed his manservant's increased interest and erudition, he had been polite enough not to mention it. But he had taken more and more time and trouble to include Atkins in the running of the expeditions. Lady Kenilworth seemed content to leave them to their play, her interest in travel and things Egyptian being limited to her desire to be near her husband.

  When he had, sadly, been forced to suggest that Atkins look after Lady Kenilworth and the London house while he was away on his latest expedition, Atkins had secretly been devastated. But Lady Kenilworth was recovering from a fever and unable to travel, so she needed the support of her butler as well as her housekeeper. Atkins was sure it was for reassurance and because of her ladyship's illness rather than any slight on the abilities of the supremely capable Miss Warne.

  Atkins was pleased he had
been able to offer some small assistance to the Doctor by translating Abu el Hob. He had felt the same suppressed tremor of delight at the Doctor's appreciation and surprise as when he had first been able to offer informed advice to Kenilworth. So it was in a lighter mood, all problematic thoughts of travelling through the ages and across the continents put aside, that he followed the Doctor and the strange Miss Tegan.

  He walked proud, bold and upright, and wondered if perhaps he could remove his jacket. After some deliberation he decided that it would probably be permissible, provided of course he did not loosen his necktie or collar. He carried his jacket over his arm, and wondered whether the Doctor, in his white sweater and long frock coat was not beginning to feel the heat.

  'Do you know where we're going?' Miss Tegan asked the Doctor.

  The Doctor nodded. 'Of course. I took the precaution of ascertaining from Lord Kenilworth where the tomb was.'

  'And where is it?'

  The Doctor stopped, and Atkins caught them up as he pointed to a small pyramid. It stood alone, smaller and closer than the main pyramids, nestled in a hollow as if it had been dug out of the desert. Unlike the other pyramids, which gleamed and shone in the bright sunlight, this pyramid was jet black It seemed almost to absorb the light rather than to reflect it. As Atkins looked, he fancied he could just make out small figures gathered at the base of the pyramid. Some sort of welcoming party for an ant-tiny procession which was making its way slowly across the desert sands towards the structure.

  'I rather fancy that it's over there,' the Doctor said.

  There were eighteen oxen, each steaming hot breath through its flared nostrils and kicking up dust from the sandy floor. The sledge they dragged through the dunes bore a single inlaid casket. Behind the dust-cloud followed the priests and then the mourners.

  The shrieking and ululation wailed itself to a halt as the oxen drew up outside the black pyramid. They stamped and blew as the priests surrounded the sledge. The priests lifted the heavy casket and carried it ceremonially to the high doorway into the pyramid. The step up from the sand to the floor level formed a natural dais. The coffin was first lowered to the floor, then raised upright on the threshold so that the stylised female figure looked out over the assembled crowd.