by BBCi Cult
'When?' Tegan asked.
'In nineteen twenty-six,' Lady Cranleigh said.
'About three hours ago,' said the Doctor.
Atkins coughed politely.
'Ah, yes. An explanation.' The Doctor shuffled his feet uncomfortably. 'Well, this is Lady Cranleigh, nee Ann Talbot, an old friend.' He paused, apparently embarrassed by his choice of words. 'Forgive me,' he said to Lady Cranleigh.
'Of course. But you're right.'
The Doctor continued. 'Ann was the image of Nyssa when we first met. Even I couldn't tell them apart. So I asked Lady Cranleigh if she would do me a small favour and stand in for Nyssa.'
'So she was in fact merely feigning sleep?' Atkins asked.
Lady Cranleigh laughed. 'I had to lie very still and wait for a password from the Doctor. All terribly exciting.'
'Yes, I do apologise for the melodramatics. And for not telling you all what was going on. Especially you, Tegan. But I had to make sure that Nephthys was convinced that this was Nyssa, and that she had been semi-awake, just enough to age, for seventy years. Rassul would never have believed I could do it if your reactions weren't genuine.'
Tegan said, 'So when Nephthys looked in Ann's head for the other half of her own mind -'
'It wasn't there, of course.'
'And she thought it had sort of evaporated in nineteen twenty-six and went back to look for it?' Atkins asked.
'Exactly.' The Doctor punctuated the word with a stab of his index finger.
'And when she found Nyssa was still asleep, she sort of bounced back?'
The Doctor nodded. 'She was able to tell when Nyssa would wake, so she came forward to that point. But because she could only act on instinct and impulse...' He left the thought unfinished for them.
'She kept going back and forth in time till she aged to death.' Tegan laughed.
'Simple.'
'Sometimes, Tegan,' the Doctor said, 'you take my breath away.'
'And what, Doctor, happens now?' asked Atkins.
The Doctor picked up a canopic jar from the floor under Nyssa's bed. 'Well, if you'll excuse me just a moment, I think Nyssa is about ready to wake up. And there's something in her mind I would like to remove.' The top was shaped into the head of a jackal, and he gave it a sharp twist to unscrew it. 'Osiran technology, complete with generator loop.'
'With what?'
'A sort of forcefield,' he explained. 'I picked it up at the British Museum on the way to collect Lady Cranleigh. Wouldn't have worked for Rassul and his friends, though. But now that I've built in a few modifications and refinements it should be up to the task.'
'Rassul? I thought he was the bad guy.'
'Oh, indeed.' The Doctor held the jar up and inspected it as if he had never seen it before. 'But initially he was the "guy", as you say, that Horus left to guard the tomb. When Nephthys' energy leaked out, she used his suppressed guilt at sacrificing his daughter to turn him against Horus and into her servant. Quite handy from her point of view, since Horus was already expending the energy to keep him alive.'
The Doctor held the open jar close in front of Nyssa's face, a wire from the cat's cradle contraption he had been fiddling with earlier was connected to the base of the canopic jar. Suddenly, the Doctor snapped his fingers. The noise was like a pistol
For a moment they burned with a brightness and intelligence which almost radiated with intensity. Then they dulled slightly, and she blinked. The Doctor jammed the stopper on the jar, and twisted it shut. Then he pulled away the wire and gave a loud exhalation of relief.
'Doctor?' Nyssa lifted her head slightly from the pillows. She looked up at all the people crowding round her bed. 'What's happening?' Her eyes flickered, and she yawned. 'I've had the strangest dream,' she said.
The Doctor smiled. 'Don't worry about it, Nyssa. Everything's fine now.'
Nyssa seemed to have drifted back into sleep, and the Doctor waved everyone from the room. 'I know it seems odd,' he said as he led them back to the console room, 'but she'll be quite tired, I think. She might sleep for a little while.'
Tegan looked sharply at him.
'I mean, maybe an hour or two.'
It seemed as if, despite his frequent protestations, the TARDIS was becoming a taxi service. The Doctor had taken Lady Cranleigh back to Oxfordshire. Atkins had bid a sincere farewell, actually with tears in his eyes, before leaving them outside the back entrance to Kenilworth House a century earlier.
Nyssa was feeling rather weak and drained, so Tegan explained what had been going on. Nyssa seemed to be taking the news with characteristic composure.
The Doctor welcomed the few moments he had to himself. He looked back at the TARDIS, shimmering in the intense dry heat, then continued on his way. He half ran, half slid down the sand, remembering his similar descent with Atkins earlier.
The empty shell of the pyramid afforded some relief from the efforts of the sun, but the air was still close and hot. When he reached the area that had been the main burial chamber, he calculated the position of the point on the floor he was looking for. He couldn't be sure, of course, but the Osirans put a lot of store in geometric patterns and exact points in space. Horus must, he reflected as he started to dig into the sandy remains of the floor with his hands, have chosen this place for a reason.
When the hole was big enough, the Doctor carefully placed the canopic jar inside. Then he covered it over with the sand he had scooped out. He stood, bowed slightly, and made the Sign of the Eye.
As he left the main door of the pyramid, it swung slowly shut behind him. When the Doctor reached the TARDIS, he turned and looked back into the crater in the sand. He nodded in quiet satisfaction, and opened the TARDIS door.
The TARDIS shimmered in the heat of the day, and faded from existence. A moment later, a trickle of sand started running down the crater sides. Perhaps the Doctor had dislodged it, perhaps the TARDIS had shaken the ground slightly as it left, perhaps there was a sudden inexplicable breeze skitting across the desert. But whatever the cause, the trickle grew into a river of sand flowing down into the crater. Before long it was an avalanche, filling the bottom of the hollow. By the time Orion rose in the night sky, all signs of the black pyramid of Nephthys were buried deep beneath the shifting desert sands.
'Did you find him all right?'
It took Atkins a few moments to realize what Lord Kenilworth was asking him. It was a long while since he had departed to deliver an invitation to the Doctor outside the British Museum. He smiled. 'Indeed, Sir. And I must say I'm very glad I did.'
Kenilworth grunted. 'Didn't take you long, didn't think you'd be back till after I'd turned in.'
Atkins smiled and watched his employer start up the stairs. Then he continued on his way to the kitchens. He felt a nervous excitement above and beyond anything he had experienced during his time with the Doctor and Tegan, and his throat felt as dry as if he were still in the desert.
Miss Warne was standing by the stove. She was stirring a saucepan of soup.
Atkins watched her from the doorway for a while. Her mind was obviously not on the task in hand. She was staring off into space and humming quietly. Atkins shook his head, such a lack of proper decorum and deplorable laxity of attitude.
'Miss Warne,' he called across the room.
She flinched, and turned. She had stopped humming at once, and her stance was somehow more upright and proper. But in her eyes saw a flicker of emotion, a moment of suppressed happiness.
'I didn't realize before,' Atkins said as he crossed the room, 'just how long you must have been prepared to stand here and stir soup on the off chance that I should remember your kind offer and avail myself of it.'
'I don't mind waiting up.' If she was surprised at his comment, she hid it well. Her head was tilted slightly to one side so that the dark hair fell away slightly. Atkins could see the edge of her ear beneath. He did not remember ever having seen her ear before, and he was struck by how round and perfect it looked. Pale skin beneath dark hair.
'If I didn't know better,' Atkins said, leaning over her shoulder to inspect the soup, 'I might think that you enjoyed waiting for me.'
'If you didn't know better.'
Without changing position, Atkins looked up from the saucepan. His face was close to hers, and he could see that her pale skin was now slightly more pink than a few moments previously. He looked deep into her large, dark eyes.
Miss Warne turned away.
'Forgive me,' Atkins said, 'but may I address you as Susan for a moment?'
She looked back at him, puzzled. 'Mister Atkins, why?'
He smiled. 'It makes a proposal to have dinner together seem so much less formal, that's all.'
Kenilworth was not sure quite what the change in Atkins was. But certainly he had changed. He seemed more like he had been on the recent expedition than the sudden reversion to type after they had returned. But there was more to it than that.
Kenilworth waited for Atkins to show in his dinner guest, and reflected again on the events of the past few months, trying to put his finger on what was going on. His wife had mentioned that the housekeeper too seemed strangely distracted.
Atkins held the door open and stood to one side to let the guest enter. He was a tall, lean young man, with a hooked nose and dark hair that was already starting to recede. Kenilworth rose to greet the newest member of the Royal Society.
'Professor Marcus Scarman,' Atkins announced.
THE END
Author's Notes: Instalment Ten
Alternative Ending
Addendum
The Chronicler peered into the glowing embers of reality. Deep within the holosphere, a single quantum choice played itself out for him. He was at one with the world he watched, oblivious to the great hallway in which he worked, not seeing the shadows and patterns cast by the sunlight shining through the stained glass.
The holosphere cast its own lights for him to follow, tiny bit patterns blitted into a replay of reality. He stared into the depths of time, aware of nothing in his world apart from the scraping of his quill across the parchment as he noted the salient points and drew deductions.
As the events reached their closure, he leaned back. The Doctor's solution was elegant. He had learned from his previous encounter with an Osiran. But while there was a certain symmetry and poetic justice in the events, there was also a niggling feeling that the Doctor had somehow cheated.
The Chronicler dipped his quill in the dark ink, and scratched a note in his book. Then he adjusted a pattern within the sphere and replayed the sequence.
Somewhere within the universal scheme, a tiny quantum choice was played out. A slight variation introduced into the mathematical and physical structure of Time, and another universe split from the first. Or rather the last. Or rather the latest. The patterns spun and resolved themselves into a new mosaic.
'I think we're a little late,' the Doctor said. His voice was quiet, but everyone turned to him. Even Vanessa swung her head slightly. 'I'm afraid your calculations were slightly off. As you can see, Nyssa has actually been awake for quite some time. Or at least, in a sort of waking sleep. Just enough to continue the ageing process while she dozed.'
'No,' breathed Vanessa, her voice an exhalation of disbelief.
'You know it's true,' the Doctor told her. 'You just scanned her mind, looking for the reasoning, calculating, intelligent part of your own self.'
'It is not there.' Vanessa's voice was low, despondent.
'So, even at the instinctive level on which you're operating you can tell that the rest of the mind of Nephthys no longer exists. It was freed when Nyssa awoke, and you weren't here. Now it's lost forever.'
'How long ago did she wake?' Atkins asked.
'She woke up in 1926.'
'Seventy years,' Atkins murmured.
The Doctor nodded. 'I like good round numbers,' he said.
'Doctor.' Tegan's voice was accusing, shaking with emotion. Her face was set and she was glaring at him.
'I'm sorry, Tegan. If there had been any other way.'
'How could you?' She was in tears now. 'How could you do this to Nyssa, after - after everything?'
The Doctor smiled sadly. 'Rassul knows. He asked if I could sacrifice a friend to save the universe, if I could make that choice.'
Tegan turned away. 'He didn't believe you could,' she said through her sobs. 'But I should have known better.'
Rassul too was shaking with anger. 'Doctor, I shall kill you for this.'
The Doctor returned his stare. 'I don't care,' he said levelly. 'The universe is safe now. All you have is a woman who hardly knows who she is and can't make a decision beyond the next instinctive moment. She can respond to circumstances, make impassioned speeches from the heart of the evil goddess she once was, but longer term than that she can never make up her mind.' He grinned suddenly. 'I hope you'll excuse the choice of phrase.'
'She will be whole,' Rassul insisted. 'We shall find a way.'
Vanessa stood watching them, listening to the exchange but taking no part. Her face was impassive.
The Doctor shook his head. 'Nephthys' reasoning intelligence is gone forever, evaporated into the ether when Nyssa woke up and you weren't there. There is no way you can recapture it.' He smiled thinly. 'None.'
Rassul's lip twitched, his face contorted in rage. 'There is,' he hissed. 'There has to be.' Behind him, Vanessa stood silent and still. A motionless mummy stood massively by her side. The other two mummies still held the bandaged form of Nyssa, her ancient wizened face turned slightly so she could see the Doctor. He looked across at her for a moment, then returned his attention to Rassul.
'Well, apart from the odd conjuring trick,' the Doctor said quietly, 'like bringing the near-dead back to life, I don't see there's much mileage left in the power of Nephthys.'Rassul frowned. He looked as if he might be about to say something in return, but then he turned away, stared at Vanessa.
'Doctor,' Tegan said again, 'what about Nyssa?' Her eyes were dark.
The Doctor's brow creased slightly. 'Not now, Tegan. Not now.'
'Not now?'
But before her anger could increase further, or the Doctor could reply, Atkins cleared his throat. 'Er, what will they do now, Doctor?'
'I'm not sure. There are a couple of possibilities.'
Rassul turned back to face them, and his voice rang across the tomb. 'Indeed there are, Doctor.'
'Ah. I take it from your tone of voice that you are not tending towards the let-us-all-go option.'
Rassul laughed. 'When you yourself suggested we could raise the dead?' He snorted his derision. 'Come now Doctor.'
The Doctor's eyes opened wide. 'Oh no. Not that. Even you can't be that desperate, Rassul.'
Rassul nodded to the mummies holding Nyssa. As one, they let go of her and lurched across the tomb towards the door leading to the inner chamber.
'I suggest you join us, Doctor. You and your friends may witness one final miracle before your lives are snuffed out forever.' He gestured for them to follow the mummies.
Atkins went to Nyssa's aid, lifting her out of the sarcophagus. Tegan glared at the Doctor, then went to help Atkins as he pulled the bandages from her friend. Underneath, Nyssa was wearing a simple linen gown, crumpled and creased but surprisingly clean and well-preserved. Nyssa said nothing the whole time, but her eyes held the Doctor's.
Rassul shuffled impatiently as the Doctor led Atkins, Tegan and Nyssa after the mummies. Then Rassul, Vanessa and the third service robot followed.
'What does he intend, Doctor?' Atkins asked quietly. He had helped Tegan to support Nyssa, but she seemed well able now to manage on her own.
'There is a ceremony,' the Doctor replied, 'an ancient Osiran rite for raising the dead. I'm rather afraid he's going to try to awaken the pile of bones that was his daughter.'
Atkins stopped dead for a split second. Tegan and Nyssa both paused at the Doctor's words.
'Of course,' the Doctor continued, 'the mummified remains could never
live again, could never walk or breath. The ceremony is for the recently deceased, not the long-departed.'
'You are quite right, Doctor,' Rassul said as they reached the doorway. 'But we do not need to reanimate the bones of Nephthys.' He reached out and placed his hand on the Doctor's shoulder, gripping it tightly. 'Her mind will be quite sufficient.'
'Why didn't you do that before, if it's so simple?' Tegan demanded.
'He's bluffing,' Atkins suggested. 'Isn't he, Doctor?'
'They didn't try it before, as there's no guarantee it will work,' the Doctor said. 'He's gambling that some vestige of the conscious side of Nephthys' mind is still buried in there somewhere - that Horus suppressed it totally rather than split it away entirely. Because of that, and for another very good reason, it was better to be patient and work through the foolproof plan that has just failed.' The Doctor stopped on the threshold of the inner chamber. He turned to face Rassul. 'It may just work. There may be just enough of the reasoning side of Nephthys character buried deep within the memories of the girl, even after the mind was ripped apart, to harness the forces held in the relics and release some semblance of her. But the real reason you never considered this before, is your own fear.'
Rassul stared at the Doctor for a second. Then he looked away. 'But now, Doctor, you leave us no choice.'
'What's he afraid of?'
'The same thing I am, Tegan. It's just so obvious a course of action that Horus would have thought of it.'
Atkins frowned. 'You think he wouldn't play fair?'
'He was an Osiran. They never play fair.' The Doctor broke into a smile. 'Like me, they play to win.' Then he stepped forward, over the threshold and into the inner chamber.
The mummies had positioned themselves either side of the coffin. The Doctor, Tegan, Nyssa and Atkins stopped just inside the door. The third mummy blocked the doorway behind them, and they waited quietly beside the twin Shabti figures who continued their endless vigil either side of the doorway.
Rassul and Vanessa approached the casket. The servicers beside it stepped back a pace as they approached and bowed their heads. Vanessa stood at the head of the coffin; Rassul stood at the foot. They looked down at the crumpled, decayed figure inside.