BBC Cult Dr Who - The Sands Of Time

by BBCi Cult

  The Doctor helped Nyssa to her feet and led her by the elbow towards the dais. Tegan followed, and heard the Doctor whisper to Nyssa.

  'Just here, where you are have a clear view of the sarcophagus.' He glanced round as Nyssa stood where he had indicated.

  'Typical, Doctor,' Tegan called across at him. 'All hell is about to break loose, and all you're worried about is getting a front row seat.'

  The Doctor caught Tegan's eye, then looked quickly away again as Atkins joined them.

  Rassul was already beside the sarcophagus as its inner glow seemed to swell with the organ music. 'That's right,' he said to the Doctor and his friends. 'Watch the final apocalyptic becoming of the goddess.' He raised his arms high in the air, mirroring the mummies. 'Nephthys shall live once more.'

  'She's using you, Rassul,' the Doctor said. 'Can't you see that yet?'

  But Rassul ignored him as Vanessa went up the steps towards the glowing casket. As she approached, the carved front of the sarcophagus seemed to melt away in a blaze of light. Then the light turned in on itself and was sucked back into the casket. The sarcophagus' shape blackened so that it looked like a child's outline of a human being, a hieroglyph. Light seemed to pour in from outside, spinning and spiralling inwards and tumbling towards the vanishing point.

  'What's happening?' Atkins asked the Doctor .

  'She's established a time tunnel back to 1926,' he replied quietly. 'Her power is greatest here, so it's the best place to start the tunnel.'

  'So she can do it,' Tegan said. 'She can travel back to Nyssa's waking moment and become complete. She can become Nephthys reborn.'

  'To destroy the world,' Atkins murmured.

  Vanessa turned to them, as if she had heard Atkins' words. She was standing directly in front of the time tunnel so that the power and energy seemed to flow past and around her into its depths. Her eyes were holes of tumbling light and her voice had taken on an echoing melodic resonance. 'So, Horus, your naive stratagems have failed as I always knew they would. Now I reclaim my birthright of evil. Now I begin the reign of dust and darkness. Now all life shall wither and perish under the reign of Nephthys.' She raised her arm, the bracelet and the ring glowing with the same intensity as the time tunnel. Out of the corner of her eye, Tegan was aware that the cobra and the jackal were also strobing and glowing like alabaster lit from within.

  'Abase yourselves,' she ordered. 'You are as nothing before the power of Nephthys.'

  Tegan felt her knees give way, and collapsed painfully to the stone floor. Beside her Atkins was also kneeling. The Doctor remained upright for a second longer, then he too collapsed to the ground. Nyssa seemed unaffected, standing between them and Vanessa now, watching as Vanessa stepped backwards into the tunnel. As she sank back into the darkness, her hair and white dress blew around her as if, like Eurydice, she were falling through the heavy air back into Hades itself.

  There was a faint noise in the darkened basement, like the sound of a massive church organ playing in the distance. Slowly it grew in volume, and as it did the chamber was lit with a throbbing blue light. And in the centre of the light, at the head of the open coffin on the dais, a figure faded into existence.

  Nephthys reached into the sarcophagus, lifting and cradling the bandaged head of Nyssa. The head that contained the reasoning, calculating side of herself. Slowly, carefully, reverently, she looked though the bandages, and stared into the closed mind of the sleeping woman. And reached gently into her thoughts.

  For a moment she was still. Then she threw back her head and screamed. The mind of Nephthys was there, buried inside the woman Nyssa. She could detect it, could sense its presence. But it was still too submerged in the sleeping woman to be of use.

  She could also tell that Nyssa would not wake for another seventy years.

  In the house above, old Lord Kenilworth stirred in his sleep, and reached out for the warmth of his wife.

  While in the basement Nephthys, acting on the instinct and impulse which was all her mind could draw on, faded back into the vortex of the time tunnel.

  'Any second now, I should think,' the Doctor said.

  Tegan stared at him. He was actually smiling. But before she could say anything, the sarcophagus glowed back into life in front of them.

  'Prepare to meet your doom,' Rassul said in triumph as he bowed low before the blazing gateway.

  A tiny dot appeared in the distance, growing slowly as it seemed to fly towards them. Nephthys was returning.

  The figure that still resembled Vanessa hovered right at the edge of the time tunnel, staring out at the group kneeling in front of her. And then at Nyssa. With a sudden scream of inhuman agony, Nephthys tumbled away from view...

  ...To reappear in the empty basement of 1926 at the moment she had arrived before. Nyssa lay before her in the casket. Her face was still covered with the bandages, but Nephthys knew immediately that she still slept. With no deductive or reasoning powers to help her, she again acted on impulse. Nephthys could tell from the depth of Nyssa's coma when she would wake, and stepped back into the time tunnel to return to 1996.

  And found Nyssa awake, all vestiges of the mind of Nephthys gone from her brain. Even before she reached the end of the tunnel, she knew the age of the woman. She could tell when she must have woken, and returned to 1926.

  'What's happening?' Tegan watched as Nephthys faded back into the tunnel for the third time. The mummies stood impassive and still, but Rassul was on his feet now, shaking his head and murmuring beneath his breath.

  The Doctor got slowly to his feet. 'That's better,' he said. 'She's weakening already. I knew there had to be a local focus, now it's working for us.' He frowned and scratched his ear. 'I wonder where it is.' He reached out and patted Nyssa on the shoulder. 'You're doing an excellent job there.' Then he turned to Tegan. 'When someone travels down an Osiran time tunnel, the effects of time aren't cancelled out. You travel a distance, doesn't matter whether it's forward or back, but you age that amount. Now Osirans can take that time on to themselves. So when Nyssa was sent back to ancient Egypt, Nephthys got older to the tune of several thousand years. Not a clever thing for Nyssa to do, but Osirans are extremely long-lived.'

  'I think I understand what you're saying, Doctor,' Atkins said as he rose to his feet. 'A sort of conservation of energy or something. But how does that help us?'

  The Doctor turned to watched Nephthys arrive on the threshold of the tunnel again, then fade back into the distance. 'Well, she's got nobody to pass the process on to, so she has to accommodate the time differential herself,' he said. 'Which means she's ageing by a hundred and forty years on each round trip. So this could take some time.' He turned back to the tunnel.

  They could begin to see a difference in Nephthys now. Her face was sagging, bags under the eyes and a slackness of the jaw. On each successive appearance the difference grew more pronounced. Her body was thinning and becoming frail, her hair fading to grey, and her face concaving to show the line of the cheek bones jutting through. Her skin was cracked and lined by the time her hair started to thin. Her scalp was scarred and wrinkled with age, and the shape of her jaw changed as her teeth began to rot. The flesh was pulled back from the bloodshot eyes so that the bone of the sockets was clearly visible beneath the stretched skin.

  Then with a drawn out wail of pain and exasperation, Nephthys collapsed. A single out-flung arm trailed over the edge of the time tunnel and into the real world. It was barely more than a strip of faded bone. As they watched it crumbled and powdered to dust, leaving a faint shadow of itself in its place. The bracelet and ring it had been wearing survived a fraction of a second longer, then they too exploded in a puff of ashes.

  Across the room, the rearing cobra collapsed back into its coils as it crumbled away, and the statue of Anubis sank lower on its haunches before its back broke under its own weight. The snarling head sat for a moment on the broken paws, then the jaw fractured and the stone deteriorated into a pile of sand.

  Rassul st
ared across the room at the powdered relics. Then his gun clattered to the floor as he fumbled desperately in his jacket pocket. He pulled out an hourglass, held it up to the light as if in supplication.

  It exploded in a crash of organ music, showering him with sand and glass, and Rassul collapsed to his knees. He knelt in front of the Doctor and his friends, reaching out towards them. Tegan thought he was begging for help, but as she watched, he curled his fingers like claws, turned them, and ripped into his own face. The flesh and tissue disintegrated as he tore at it, pulling his head to pieces. He gouged a trail down his cheek, and dust fell from the rotting bone beneath. He was still tearing at the dry stump of his shattered neck when he toppled forward. His body rolled off the dais and crashed to pieces on the floor below.

  The Osiran mummies smashed and crumbled to the floor beside him, their arms still raised in supplication to their goddess Nephthys.

  * * *

  London - 1880

  The needle stretched up above the buildings behind it, a sharp point into the sky. George Vulliamy's gaze was fixed on its growing silhouette as he approached along the Embankment. As he got closer, he could see the imperfections of the stone edges against the clouds. Closer still, and he could begin to discern the carved hieroglyphs which covered the obelisk.

  But Vulliamy's mind was elsewhere. It was a miracle, he thought, that Cleopatra's Needle was there at all. It had been lost on the turbulent voyage from Alexandria - along with the lives of six sailors. Then incredibly, one might almost say miraculously, it had been rocovered, the wooden casket reappearing in the expanses of the ocean, and towed to London in January 1878. Where nobody had decided what to do with it.

  And it was almost by chance that, after eight months of deliberation, it should be erected on the Embankment. Vulliamy could see again in his mind the great stone pillar being rotated on a wooden construction more like a child's overgrown treehouse than scaffolding. He had watched, fascinated, as it was lowered into place on the plinth. To Vulliamy it was close to a miracle that he had been asked to be a part of it all.

  He had supervised the steps down to the river, and planned the geometric perfections of the plinths either side of the needle. He had drawn up his plans and had the full size plaster models positioned on the plinths to judge the effect. And everyone had proclaimed his Sphinxes to be the final aesthetic touch which completed the perfect Egyptian tableau.

  Almost there now. If only his wife had not been taken ill, if only he had not waited for the doctor to arrive, he would have been present for the final act. But as it was, he had almost certainly missed it. The bronze Sphinxes he had designed would by now have replaced their plaster twins torn down the previous day. Perfection was now complete.

  But something was not quite right. He peered forward squinting into the distance. The sun glimpsed out from behind a cloud and Vulliamy could see the rays of light reflecting off the bronze hide of one of his creations. Bronze, not painted plaster, so the Sphinxes had already been hoisted into position. He knew every contour of the beasts, every curve of their metal flesh and every engraving of the hieroglyphics on their chests. He had specified every sinew of the arms and every coil of the snake on each Sphinx's head dress.

  So he knew that it was impossible for the sunlight to be reflected in quite that way, at quite that angle, from the Sphinx nearest to him. The light, however, continued to shine in his eyes as he approached, so he was almost there when he saw what had happened.

  He was running, running like a schoolboy. He raced along the pavement, shouting to the workmen packing away their tools and nodding to each other at the end of a job well done.

  Well done. He swore.

  The nearest of the workmen turned to him as he pounded up. Surprise gave way to recognition. 'Mr Vulliamy, sir. A damed good job, I must say.'

  'Must you?' he spat between gut-wrenching rasps.

  'Indeed. Very elegant. Works of art and no mistake.'

  'No mistake?' Vulliamy grabbed the man's lapels, shaking him so hard that he dropped the canvass bag he was holding. A hammer and several chisels clattered across the paving slabs. 'No mistake? Look at them. Look!'

  Vulliamy spun the man round. The other workmen mirrored their fellow as they swung round to look at the Sphinxes guarding the obelisk. 'Look what you've done.' He knew from the finality of his own words that it was too late to change it. He let go the man's jacket, and sat down heavily on the ground shaking his head in disbelief. After so much, after so many minor miracles, after it had seemed that his design was somehow meant, to find this crass error.

  The workmen continued to stare at the Sphinxes, apparently unable to see the problem. The beasts themselves continued to stare inwards at Cleopatra's Needle, oblivious to the consternation and confusion around them.

  Vulliamy breathed deeply, his chest still aching from running. He pulled himself back to his feet, forcing his force to stay measured and relatively calm. 'How could you make such a mistake? Quite apart from the aesthetics, didn't you remember that the Sphinxes you tore down only yesterday were facing outwards?'

  The man Vulliamy had grabbed shook his head, his mouth working soundlessly.

  'How could you do it?' Vulliamy's voice cracked, close to tears as he turned away.

  'I don't know, sir. I really don't. An impulse, perhaps. Somehow it just seemed right at the time.'

  * * *

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Doctor picked his way through the carnage. The mummies lay across each other, crumpled and limp, their power suddenly gone. Discoloured areas of dust marked the positions where Rassul, the relics, and Nephthys' arm had disintegrated. The time tunnel was strobing a reassuring green, the light diminishing as they watched. The Doctor reached round the back of the sarcophagus for a moment, then straightened up, dusted the palms of his hands against each other, and beamed across at Tegan and the others.

  'There, that should do it. Don't want the thermal balance to equalize just yet, do we. There'll be quite a fire in this enclosed space, and I'd rather it was a few hours from now. The house should be safe, but it will destroy the incriminating evidence down here.' He looked at the fallen mummies and the stained stonework. 'The sands of time wash us all clean,' he said quietly. Then he brightened. 'Still, all's well that ends well, eh?' And with that he strode back across the room and slapped Tegan on the shoulder.

  She pulled away. 'Is that it?' she asked. Her voice was vibrant with suppressed emotion.

  The Doctor seemed not to notice. 'Yes, I think so. A pretty good result considering. All over -'

  'Doctor!' Tegan screamed at him, her whole body tense with anger.

  '- bar the shouting.' The Doctor frowned, his eyebrows knitting together as he leaned towards her. 'Yes?' he asked irritably.

  Tegan turned away, arms folded.

  'What is it?' The Doctor asked the group collectively. 'What's wrong with her now?'

  'I think she might be worried about Nyssa,' Atkins suggested quietly.

  'Nyssa? Oh yes, I nearly forgot.' The Doctor fumbled in his pocket and drew out the TARDIS key. 'Well, let's go and wake her up then.'

  The old woman who had woken in the sarcophagus followed the Doctor to the TARDIS. It was only after he had unlocked the door and ushered her in ahead of him that he seemed to realize that nobody else was following. They were standing open-mouthed, watching him from the other side of the dais.

  'Well, are you coming or not?' he demanded.

  Tegan and Atkins looked at each other in silence.

  'May I be permitted to ask what's going on?' Atkins had followed Tegan into Nyssa's room only to be confronted with yet another puzzle.

  The old woman he had been told was Nyssa was sitting in a chair beside the bed. She patted the hand of the young woman who lay on the bed. A young woman who might have been her grand daughter, except that even across the years between them the resemblance between the two was uncanny.

  A small piece of machinery that looked like it was cobbled tog
ether out of wires, small boxes and ceiling wax sat humming quietly to itself on the floor beside the bed. The Doctor was just disconnecting it from the young woman on the bed as they entered. As he switched off the machine, the hum died away. And the young woman yawned and stretched.

  'That's the delta wave augmentor, isn't it Doctor?' Tegan asked.

  He nodded, without taking his attention from the sleeping woman. 'Yes. Though I had to rig up another delta source to replace the sonic screwdriver, of course.'

  Atkins coughed politely. 'Doctor, I take it that this young woman is your friend Nyssa. But perhaps you could introduce us all?'

  The Doctor stepped back from the bed, apparently satisfied with Nyssa's progress. 'Of course,' he said. He turned to the old woman. 'Do forgive me, but things have been a little hectic for formal introductions.'

  'Not at all, Doctor. I quite understand.' She let go of Nyssa's hand and stood up.

  ' Tegan, of course, I know already. But your other friend?'

  'Mister Atkins.'

  Atkins inclined his head slightly. 'Delighted, er -'

  Tegan was frowning. 'Do I know you?'

  'Of course, my dear. And you haven't changed a bit.' The woman smiled, and the way her face suddenly brightened made her look younger. 'Though I must confess, I have.'

  Tegan shook her head slowly. Then her mouth dropped open. 'Ann?'

  The woman nodded. 'I'm Lady Cranleigh now. Have been for a very long time. The Doctor came to the wedding, you know?' She smiled at him, and he beamed back.