BBC Cult Dr Who - The Sands Of Time

by BBCi Cult

  The Doctor was backing away again, the mummies still lurching towards them. 'They're not. They're after something specific. Something in with the relics.'

  'We've still got to stop them,' Kenilworth spluttered.

  'Oh, I agree. That's why I've sent Atkins for the dynamite.' The Doctor's teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he smiled. Over his shoulder, Kenilworth saw the mummies slow to a halt. For a moment, their bodies swung to and fro as if they were surveying the land in front of them. Then they stood motionless. From the distance came the sound of another crate being ripped open.

  Between them, Tegan and Atkins managed to carry the box of dynamite towards the supply tent. Tegan expected any moment to meet the Doctor and Kenilworth running back the other way. But they were almost where they had left them. The mummies stood a short way off, making no effort to move.

  'They're stopping us from getting to the supplies and preventing whatever's happening there,' Kenilworth told them. 'The Doctor tried circling round, but they seemed to sense that, and one of them moved to cut him off.'

  'So what did you do, Doctor?' Atkins asked.

  'I decided discretion was the better part of valour,' the Doctor said. 'Now where's that dynamite?'

  Atkins pulled the lid off the heavy wooden box to reveal several sticks of dynamite, fuses dangling like rats' tails from the ends. He produced a box of lucifers from his jacket pocket.

  'Excellent,' the Doctor said, rubbing his hands together. 'Now which of you can manage a decent full toss, do you reckon?'

  The first stick landed short of its target. The dynamite exploded noisily, throwing sand and pieces of Nebka's tent flying into the air. The mummy standing five yards from the blast did not so much as flinch.

  But in the supply tent, Simons heard the report. He sent a mental signal to the servicer with him to continue searching through the packing crates. So far they had found the statue of Anubis, but none of the other relics had yet been recovered.

  Simons picked up the small stone statue, its surface as cold as his hand, and went to investigate the noise. The image he was getting from the servicers outside was less than helpful, degraded and interrupted by the weakness of the power.

  He emerged from the tent in time to see a figure step forward into the moonlight and throw something towards the servicers. Simons sent the nearest mummy forward to counter attack.

  It walked right into the explosion.

  The dynamite went off just as the mummy stepped over it. The blast ripped its left arm from the body and shredded the bandages which protected the robot's frame. The cloth still clinging to the robot's legs ignited, and after a second the whole body was ablaze.

  The mummy kept going, following its orders, a lumbering torch of guttering fire. The metal frame charred in the heat, but it held together as the creature stumbled onwards.

  But without the protection of its wrappings, the next explosion ripped the servicer apart. It punctured the tiny pyramid relay in the small of its back, and sent shards of heated metal into the air like shrapnel from a grenade.

  The humans dived for cover. The other servicers stood immobile and silent. Simons weighed up the options, hefting the Anubis statue in his dead palm. One relic would suffice. He recalled the servicers, and made his way back to where Rassul and the Egyptians were waiting beyond the next sand dune.

  Evans sat at the table in his daughter's tent, leafing slowly through her day book. He was not reading it, just turning the pages. In his hand he held the photograph that had marked her place.

  Atkins stood into the tent behind him, watching. 'I thought I'd find you here, sir,' he said after a while. He tried to ignore the body sprawled across the bed. 'She loved me,' Evans said without looking up. 'So dedicated. So devoted.'

  'Indeed.' Atkins clasped his hands tighter behind his back. 'His lordship wonders if you would join us at the supply tent to go over the inventory again. He would welcome your expert opinion.'

  'Look.' Evans held out the photograph from the book. 'She even kept my picture with her.'

  Simons' young enthusiasm smiled back at Atkins from the cracked card.

  'Indeed sir. I -' He broke off. He knew what he wanted to say, but not how to phrase it. 'She will be a great loss to us all, sir.' It felt inadequate.

  But Evans nodded as he stood up. 'A great loss. Yes. Yes.'

  Atkins held back the canvas flap for Evans as he pushed past. Then Atkins looked at the figure across the bed. He could feel an unaccustomed pressure behind his eyes, was aware of a tension in his stomach. He blinked quickly, and followed Evans out of the tent.

  * * *

  Phaester Osiris

  Isis left the navigation to the pilot. He sat within the projection dome, his mind entirely focused on keeping the craft on course, following the psi-trail left by the capsule.

  With her mind, Isis reached out into the darkness, probing and searching for the thoughts of Osiris. At the very extreme edge of her consciousness she could sense a slight tremor. There was a chance, just a faint hope, that Osiris was not yet dead. But if they did not get close enough for him to break the mind lock and project out of the capsule soon, he would be lost.

  Even as she struggled to lock on to the mind of her husband-brother, Isis felt it slip through her thoughts. Osiris was gone. And with nowhere to project to, he must be dead. No way to project his physical body into another place; no receptacle for his brilliant mind - he would imbue no psi-child now.

  She brought her mind back to reality, to the interior of the pyramid. The pilot was standing in front of her. He had left the projection dome. And yet the craft was still travelling straight and true along the psi-trail. It took a phenomenal amount of energy to cope even with a slight mental lapse. Actually to leave the dome was impossible, no mind could summon the reserves of power necessary for that.

  But as she stared into the glowing eyes of the pilot, Isis was aware of a deeper intelligence than she had perceived when they boarded the craft.

  'Greetings, mother,' the pilot said. His voice was melodic, almost musical. She recognized it at once, and almost wept for joy. The words of the Osiran who had been the pilot resonated within the craft, seeming almost to be born out of the air itself: 'I am Horus, son of Osiris.'

  * * *

  Chapter Eight

  The Golden Bough docked early in the morning of Sunday November the ninth, 1896. Within minutes, the London dockers had secured her to the quay and gangplanks were lowered. Soon after that, the ship was a scurry of activity as packing cases and crates were hoisted ashore.

  Atkins supervised the unloading, just as he had ensured that everything was properly stowed before setting out from Egypt seven weeks earlier. He stood on the dockside, notebook in hand, checking off each item as it was brought ashore. Then each was packed into one of the waiting carriages, depending on its destination.

  'You seem to be having fun,' the Doctor said as he joined Atkins. His breath was smoky in the cold morning air. 'The change in weather is always a problem when travelling, I find.'

  'Indeed, Doctor.' Atkins checked the stencilled letters on the side of a crate as it was carried past by two stevedores. He pointed the dockers to the nearest of the carriages.

  'Mmmmm,' the Doctor continued as he watched the crate's bobbing progress towards the nearest carriage. 'And talking of problems...'

  Part of the time on the journey back had been spent allocating the various relics to museums and members of the expedition. The British Museum took the lion's share, of course. Kenilworth kept several items, like the ring found on the shelf by the sarcophagus, for his private collection. He also kept, at the Doctor's insistence and to the evident disappointment of Evans, the mummy itself. They compromised by sending the lid of the casket to the museum.

  Evans himself elected to keep only a few of the smaller pieces he was offered, including the scarab bracelet found in the burial chamber. The cobra statuette found with it went to Macready, together with several papyrus scrolls.


  Atkins had repacked everything, with help from the others, principally Miss Tegan. He had found he grew to enjoy the time spent going through the inventory with her. Despite her attempts at small talk and her distracting manner, Tegan was pleasant company and performed her allotted tasks with a speed and efficiency which belied her manner. Atkins found himself looking forward to the sessions in a similar way to his anticipation of the evening planning meeting with Miss Warne back at Kenilworth House.

  And with this observation came the realization that he was missing the meetings with Miss Warne. Indeed, he was missing her company generally.

  So it was with a feeling of deep disappointment which he could not possibly voice or allow others to discern, that Atkins received the Doctor's words.

  'I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to stay in the TARDIS for a day or two.' He slapped Atkins on the shoulder. 'You see, there are two of you here at the moment. Once your other self has left with us for ancient Egypt, then you can return to Kenilworth House and carry on as usual. But until then...'

  The Doctor grinned as Atkins concentrated on his notes.

  'It's all a bit complicated. I'm not sure that I actually understand it too well myself, now I come to think about it.'

  Atkins said nothing for a while. The Doctor looked over his shoulder at the notebook, and frowned as he tried to decipher the handwriting.

  'Is the TARDIS ashore yet, by the way?'

  Atkins indicated a nearby warehouse with the end of his pencil. 'The harbour master says it can stay there till Wednesday free of charge.'

  The Doctor nodded. 'More than generous,' he said. 'And more than long enough.' He patted Atkins on the shoulder again. 'I hope you don't mind, but it is rather important.'

  Atkins did not look up. 'You know best, Doctor,' he said quietly.

  Having installed Atkins in the TARDIS and provided him with an adequate pile of reading material (it turned out he was a devotee of Dickens), the Doctor and Tegan took their leave of the expedition members. Macready and Kenilworth were off to Kenilworth House, and the Doctor agreed that he and Tegan would meet them there that afternoon. Evans was keen to return to the British Museum and start right away on unpacking the relics returned from Egypt. He hoped to have some of them at least on display in the Egyptian Room by the evening. The only disappointment in his enthusiasm seemed to be that this time neither his daughter nor Simons would help him update the catalogues.

  'So what do we do now?' Tegan asked the Doctor.

  The Doctor consulted his watch, turned a full circle on his heel, and grinned. 'How about some shopping?' he suggested. 'It's nearly ten o'clock and Harrods has been open for forty-seven years. Should have stocked up on something other than groceries by now.'

  'And Nyssa?'

  The Doctor breathed out heavily, his breath hanging in the air amongst the other pollutants. 'Nyssa will be perfectly safe until tomorrow when we unwrap her. We managed to keep the casket level during the journey which was the main thing. Now I think we should let Kenilworth get back to his house and his wife and have some peace and quiet for a few hours. We'll see him this afternoon.'

  The Doctor stepped out into the road and waved at an approaching cab. 'I think it might snow later,' he said as the cabby guided his horse to the kerb.

  'You know it will,' Tegan said as she climbed in ahead of the Doctor.

  They spent the morning at Harrods and looked in some of the other shops on the Brompton Road. Then they had a light lunch at Bond's Tea Shop before taking rooms at the Savoy. The Doctor signed the hotel register at three twenty-seven.

  Kenilworth ordered afternoon tea for the drawing room.

  'I thought we could discuss where the sarcophagus should be set up with the Doctor and Miss Tegan,' he told Atkins.

  'Indeed, sir. And will the Doctor and Miss Tegan be taking tea also?'

  Kenilworth laughed. 'When did you ever know the Doctor to refuse a cup of tea?'

  'The Doctor, sir?' Atkins cocked his head slightly to one side. 'I'm not sure that I am aquainted with the gentleman.'

  Kenilworth stared in amazement for a moment. 'Not sure that -' He looked from Atkins to his wife and back. 'Good grief, man. You'll be telling us you don't remember miss Tegan either next.' He smiled and gave a sharp nod to emphasize his point.

  'Who, sir?' Atkins asked innocently.

  Kenilworth opened his mouth, then closed it again. Perhaps Atkins was joking. Yet he seemed entirely sincere. 'Are you all right, Atkins?' Kenilworth asked. 'Come to think of it, you do look a bit pale.'

  'I am in excellent health, thank you sir.'

  Lady Kenilworth leaned forward in her chair. 'That's all right, Atkins. Just arrange the tea, would you.'

  'Indeed, ma'am,' Atkins said with evident relief, taking his leave.

  Kenilworth shook his head as Atkins left the room. 'I don't know,' he said.

  'Leave him alone, dear,' Lady Kenilworth said quietly. 'He's been a perfect treasure while you've been away. As always.'

  Kenilworth was not listening. 'Maybe it's the change in climate. He wasn't like this in Egypt.'

  Lady Kenilworth smiled. 'But that was years ago,' she said. 'When you were both younger.'

  'What? No, no. I mean this trip. The last few months.'

  Lady Kenilworth frowned. 'I don't think I follow.'

  'All I'm saying is that he was fine. His usual calm efficient self, and we had some dicey moments I don't mind telling you.'

  Lady Kenilworth stood up and crossed to where her husband was sitting. She rested her hand on his shoulder. 'But he's been here,' she said, 'with me. Atkins never went to Egypt.'

  In the distance, the doorbell rang. Kenilworth barely heard it. 'What are you talking about?' he asked his wife. 'I left him here with you, yes. But Atkins joined us in Cairo at the beginning of September. He must have left here four months ago.'

  Lady Kenilworth did not reply immediately. She sat down again, and looked out of the window. The sound of several sets of footsteps drifted in from the hallway, getting steadily closer. 'Well,' she said at last, 'all I can say is that I had not noticed he was gone. And neither, I suspect, have any of the other servants.'

  Kenilworth snorted and shook his head.

  'Perhaps you should ask Miss Warne,' his wife suggested. 'I'm sure she will be able to tell you the whereabouts of Mister Atkins for the last year or more, let alone the past few weeks.'

  Kenilworth was about to ask his wife what she meant, but at the moment the door opened and Atkins entered.

  'The Doctor and Miss Tegan Jovanka,' he announced. Then he stepped aside to allow the Doctor and Tegan to enter.

  'Ah Doctor, Miss Tegan.' Kenilworth was across the room and shaking hands enthusiastically before the Doctor and Tegan were properly through the door. He introduced them to his wife and waved them to chairs. Atkins watched the proceedings, then when he discerned that he was no longer needed left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

  'Perhaps you can help settle a small disagreement, Doctor,' Kenilworth said. Tea had been brought in and they were sitting with bone china cups and cucumber sandwiches.

  'Ah,' the Doctor said awkwardly, replacing his cup on its saucer and looking carefully into it as if trying to decode the pattern of the tea leaves.

  'It's about Atkins.'

  The Doctor looked up. He did not look happy. 'Yes. I was rather afraid it might be.' He exchanged a pained glance with Tegan. 'Look, er, can I ask you a small favour?'

  'Of course.'

  'Please don't worry yourselves with where Atkins has been, or hasn't been. I'm sure he'll remember everything soon enough, and if you need an explanation then, he can probably provide it.' The Doctor gulped down the remains of his tea, draining the cup. Then he grimaced. 'I must be getting used to tea bags,' he said. 'Abominations.'

  'I thought perhaps,' Kenilworth said as the tea things were cleared away, 'we should have the unwrapping in here.'

  'Sounds good to me,' Tegan said.

  'Excellen
t, capital.' The doorbell clanged in the distance, and Kenilworth consulted his pocket watch. 'I've asked Professor Macready to join us this afternoon to help set up the sarcophagus. That'll be him now.'

  The Doctor stood up and walked across the room, hands in trouser pockets. 'Were you intending to set up the casket about here?' he asked as he reached the far corner.

  Kenilworth laughed. 'I told you,' he said to his wife. 'Never ceases to amaze. He even knows what I'm thinking now.'

  The Doctor joined in the laughter. 'Hardly.'

  'Good. Then you won't know that I've got some invitations printed up already. Should be delivered this evening. I'll drop one round to the Savoy for you so you can see it if you like.'

  'Professor Macready,' Atkins announced, ushering in the small professor. Macready peered across the room at them, polishing his spectacles furiously on a handkerchief. When he was done, he popped his glasses back on his nose and beamed at Kenilworth. 'Good to see you again, old man.' He looked round the room, the light shining off his glasses as he tried to find the sarcophagus.

  'It's in the dining room at the moment,' Lady Kenilworth told him. 'Which I must say is extremely inconvenient. Perhaps you gentlemen could ask Atkins to help you bring it in here instead?'

  The sarcophagus was unwieldy rather than heavy. And with the added challenge of keeping it level, at the Doctor's insistence, it took the four of them several minutes to manoeuvre the coffin the short distance from the dining room to the drawing room. The effort seemed not to bother the Doctor, though Macready by contrast slumped into an armchair and dabbed at his forehead.

  'Goodness me,' he said. 'So much exercise.' He stuffed his handkerchief back into his pocket and leaped to his feet again. 'Magnificent,' he said. 'Quite magnificent. Tell me, Doctor, have you yet formulated any opinions you are willing to share on the history or age of this piece?'

  Tegan laughed. 'I'll say,' she started.