by Doctor Who
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Night of the Humans by David Llewellyn
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1 3 5 7 9 1 0 8 6 4 2
Published in 2010 by BBC Books, an imprint of Ebury Publishing.
A Random House Group Company
Copyright © David Llewellyn 2010
David Llewellyn has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
Doctor Who is a BBC Wales production for BBC One Executive producers: Steven Moffat, Piers Wenger and Beth Willis BBC, DOCTOR WHO and TARDIS (word marks, logos and devices) are trademarks of the British Broadcasting Corporation and are used under licence.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.
The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978 1 846 07969 6
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Commissioning editor: Albert DePetrillo
Series consultant: Justin Richards
Project editor: Steve Tribe
Cover design: Lee Binding © Woodlands Books Ltd, 2010
Production: Rebecca Jones
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For Tim, who listens and makes the coffee IEA BEAGLE XXI/OBJECT 556C INTERNAL
INQUIRY
ITEM 8B: Captain's Journal (incomplete/ corrupted) The following is property of the Intergalactic Environmental Agency (IEA) and may be read by authorised personnel only.
Vessel: IEA BEAGLE XXI (Sittuun Operations, K-Class) Last known location: Battani 045, Object 556/C - Designated 'The Gyre'
COMM OFF: Cpt. Jamal al-Jehedeh
7
DOCTOR WHO
R e p o r t No : 17 8
D at e : 2 6/ 11/ 33 8 ED
At 06 18 hr s t he B ea gl e ma de a n e mer g enc y c r a s h la ndi ng ont o O b j ec t 5 56 / C .
W e s ust a i ne d s ever e da ma ge t o a l l c ont r ol s, eng i n es , a nd na vi ga t i ona l equ i p m ent . Al l r a ft s hi p s ha ve b een da ma ged.
Al l e l ev en c r ew m e mb er s s ur vi ved t he i mp a ct a nd a r e u ni nj u r ed.
T he ca r go is i nt a c t a nd op er a t i ona l.
O ur i ni t i a l i nves t i ga t i ons s u gges t t ha t [T E X T MIS S I NG ] pr evi ou s r ep or t s i nc or r ec t a nd [T E X T MIS S I NG ] t he G yr e i s i nha b i t ed.
W e a r e not a l one her e.
R e p o r t No : 20 1
D at e : 2 4/ 12/ 33 8 ED
[ T E X T MIS S IN G ] negot i a t i ons ha ve f a i l ed. F i t O f f. Hu ss ei n, Dr Ka ma l , a nd Lt S i ddi qu i ha ve b ee n c a pt ur ed a nd ki l l e d.
[ T E X T MIS S IN G ] u na b l e t o r epa ir a ny of t he r a ft s hi ps, a nd t he c l oc k i s c ou nt i ng do wn t owa r ds Da y Z er o.
[ T E X T MIS S IN G ] em er genc y b ea c on ha s not 8
NIGHT OF THE HUMANS
f u nc t i one d s i nc e ou r s ec on d w e ek h er e. T her e s e e ms l i t t l e hop e of r es c u e.
R e p o r t No : 28 9
D at e : 0 6/ 03/ 33 9 ED
O ur 10 0t h da y on t he G yr e ha s pa ss ed wi t hou t i nc i de nt .
[ T E X T MIS S IN G ] Ai s ha is r ec over i n g s l owl y a nd Dr H e eva r ema i ns c onc er ne d b y t he p oss i bi l i t y of i nf ec t i on. [ T E X T MIS S I NG ] mor a l e st i l l l ow a f t er t he a t t a c k nea r t he c a nyon, l i t t l e ov er a wee k a go. Lt s Az i z , S ha r ma a nd S a i d a r e st i l l mi s s i ng, pr es u med dea d. T her e i s a p er ma nent ca mp nea r t he c opp er va l l eys , i n t he nor t h, [T E X T MIS S I NG ] we ca n s ee t hei r f ir es a nd hea r t hei r mu s i c; a t r i ba l dr u m mi ng t ha t mi r r or s t hei r ba r ba r it y.
[ T E X T MIS S IN G ] b ot h H ee va a nd Ba a s i m t hi n k we s hou l d l ea v e t he s hi p a nd t r a vel w es t , t owa r ds t he G yr e' s edg e, but I di s a gr ee.
[ T E X T MI S S I NG ] a nd our mi s s i on i s of ut mos t i mp or t a nc e.
[ T E X T MIS S ING ] j us t ei ght da ys l ef t . [ T E X T
M IS S IN G ] T he hu ma ns a r e c omi ng.
9
Chapter
1
'OK. What is that?' asked Amy, shouting over the shrill bleeping noise that screamed out of the console.
'It's a signal! the Doctor replied, never once taking his eyes away from the screen before him. 'A beacon. An alarm. No... It's stranger than that.'
All at once the TARDIS shook violently, nearly knocking them both off their feet.
'And what was that?' said Amy, bracing herself and struggling to keep balance.
'Well, I'm not sure what that was,' said the Doctor. 'I think we may have hit some sort of gravitational speed bump.'
'A gravitational speed bump? They have speed bumps in space? How fast were we going?'
In the centre of the console, the glowing, 11
DOCTOR WHO
crystalline columns groaned and wheezed, as if wrestling some unimaginable force. The lights began to dim, the interior of the ship descending into gloom.
'Well, not a speed bump as such,' said the Doctor, completely unfazed by the dimming of the lights and the monstrous cacophony being made by the TARDIS. 'More an abnormality. Smaller than a black hole. Much smaller than a black hole. But this is where the signal's coming from.'
There was a sudden terrific clanging sound, like that of a monstrous hammer slamming down onto impossibly large anvil, and the TARDIS stopped moving.
'OK. I think we've landed.' With a knowing grin, the Doctor looked up at Amy for the first time in an age. Though the engines of the TARDIS had stopped wheezing and the outside world was quiet, the inside was still filled with that high-pitched bleeping.
'So is it like a distress signal?' said Amy.
The Doctor nodded. "That's exactly what it's like,' he told her. "The strange thing is, it's a trans-temporal distress signal.'
'Er... English, please?'
'It's a distress signal that crosses time. Very sophisticated, in its own way. A spaceship leaves Planet A and travels to Planet B, six light months away. When it gets to Planet B, something
12
NIGHT OF THE HUMANS
malfunctions. Basically, the distress signal travels back in time and reaches Planet A shortly after the spaceship has left, so a rescue party can be organised right away.'
'But if the signal travels back in time, can't they just send the message to themselves to stop them going to Planet B in the first place?'
'Oh, Amy Pond... So much to learn. Paradoxes, space-time, closed time-like loops...'
'OK... So where are we?'
The Doctor beckoned Amy over to his side of the console, and pointed at one of the monitors. Peering at the screen, Amy saw the image of a solar system with twelve planets
spreading out from its central star. On the outer edges of the system was a flashing green dot.
The Doctor drew a circle around the screen with his finger tip.
'This is the Battani 045 system. That planet there is Jahi Minor. That planet there... well, I can't even pronounce the name of that planet. That there is the comet Schuler-Khan, and that...'He pointed at the flashing dot. "That's us. Thing is...
We've landed on something big and solid. And there's nothing big or solid this far out.'
He looked across the console room to the door.
'You want to go out there! said Amy. It was a statement, not a question.
The Doctor returned his attention to her and 13
DOCTOR WHO
smiled. It was a strange, inscrutable smile that took a second or two to reach his eyes.
'Well! he said, as he left the console and made his way towards the door with his back to her. 'There is a distress signal. I'd be breaching all kinds of intergalactic conduct if I didn't at least try and find out where it came from. Plus... big mysterious object which shouldn't be here. It would be lazy not to investigate further, wouldn't it? I mean... Wouldn't it?'
He had opened the door before Amy could reply, and behind his back she rolled her eyes. She had grown accustomed to the Doctor's ways. If there was a mystery on the other side of that door, he was bound to open it.
The Doctor turned around and gestured towards the outside world with both arms, like a magician unveiling his latest trick.
'Come along!' he said, beaming. 'Onwards and upwards!'
Amy ran across the console room and together they made their first, tentative steps outside. The sight that greeted them took Amy's breath away, and the only thing she could do was laugh, more out of disbelief than anything else.
She wasn't quite sure what she had expected. A rocky landscape, perhaps, dotted with craters and mountainous ridges, or a desert. Something a little bit more like the moon.
This was nothing like that.
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NIGHT OF THE HUMANS
The ground beneath their feet was metal, but neither smooth nor polished. Rather it was composed entirely of flattened scraps of junk; some no bigger than a tin can, others the size of a bus. Stretching out into the distance, this landscape of metal became jagged in places, rising up in crooked hills and spiny, razor-sharp ridges. There were plants here and there, but they were nothing like the plants back home. If it reminded her of anything, the place resembled nothing so much as an endless scrap yard, reaching off as far as the eye could see.
Worst of all was the smell. Amy was reminded of bin day in Leadworth, when the council would come around to collect rubbish, and sometimes, if you were walking behind one of the trucks, you'd find yourself downwind of the most terrible stench. Whatever this world was, it smelled as if it was rotting.
'That's minging,' she moaned, pinching her nostrils shut.
'Oh, I don't know,' said the Doctor. 'I've smelled worse. You should try sixteenth-century London. Place was an open sewer.
Come along, Pond.'
The Doctor walked out into the metallic valley in which the TARDIS had landed, and, shaking her head in resignation, Amy followed.
'Why do you call me Pond?' she asked, after navigating her way around a particularly tricky
15
DOCTOR WHO
mound of crushed steel and twisted plastic.
'Why? Don't you like it?'
'Well... It's just... Pond,' said Amy. 'What's wrong with Amy?'
'What was wrong with Amelia?'
'Lots of things. And as for just calling me Pond. It makes me sound—'
'Nothing wrong with Pond. I'm quite fond of ponds.
Ponds have ducks. Well... Some of them do. And ducks are great. And as for the name... Lots of great people have had the surname Pond. John Pond, for example. Astronomer Royal.
Lovely chap. Filthy sense of humour, though. Once told me this joke about—'
'Enough about my name,' interrupted Amy. 'What is this place? I mean... It's a planet, but you said there shouldn't be any planets here.'
The Doctor stopped walking and looked around at the endless sea of twisted, ancient-looking refuse that surrounded them.
'No,' he said. 'It's not a planet. For one thing, planets aren't flat.'
'What do you mean? How can you tell it's flat?'
'The horizon's all wrong. If I'm not mistaken, and I'm not, this place is flat. And look... Couple of plants here and there, but the rest is just... well... junk.'
'So... what is it?' asked Amy. 'If it's not a planet, what is—'
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NIGHT OF THE HUMANS
Before she could finish her question, the Doctor had left her, running further into the valley. Tutting under her breath, Amy chased after him.
'What now?' she shouted.
'Oh, you have got to be joking!' said the Doctor, as he reached a smaller mound of scrap metal jutting out into their path. With an almost childlike enthusiasm he began lifting smaller fragments, hurling them away. In a flurrying cloud of grey dust, the Doctor had uncovered what looked like a half-buried satellite dish, perhaps two and a half metres in diameter.
'What? What is it?' asked Amy.
'Oh, this is brilliant,' the Doctor told her.
'What is?'
Attached to the side of the dish's base was a grubby gold plaque. The Doctor swept his hand across it, clearing away decades, or perhaps even centuries of grime and dust.
"This! said the Doctor, 'is Pioneer 10.'
Looking over his shoulder Amy saw, engraved on the plaque, an image of a naked man and woman standing before a line drawing of the dish.
'A rude picture?' she said. 'You're looking at a rude picture?'
'It's not a rude picture.' The Doctor sighed. 'It's Pioneer 10.
Deep-space probe launched by NASA in 1972. So this is where it ended up. Quite sad, really.'
17
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'Why has a NASA probe got a rude picture on the side of it?'
'It's not a rude...' The Doctor sighed once more. 'It's to show aliens what you lot look like.'
'With our clothes off?'
'Well... yes. You're not born wearing T-shirt and jeans, are you? Anyway... The idea was that this thing would just keep flying through space, and maybe one day somebody, or something, would pick it up. Quite sad, really. For it to spend countless millennia travelling across space to just end up on a scrap heap. One great big cosmic sera—'
With a movement so sudden it caused Amy to jump back and almost lose her footing, the Doctor stood up straight and spun around on his heels.
That's it!' he cried, clicking his fingers. 'That's exactly what this is!'
'What? A scrap heap?'
'Yes! Well, no. Not really. It's junk. Lots of space junk.
Gravitational forces, solar winds, pushing and pulling all this junk until it ends up in one place. That's the thing, see? Two thousand centuries of space travel and people are still dropping litter. They'll never learn...'
'Wait. Did you just say two thousand centuries?'
'Yes.'
'What year is this?'
'Er... We left Earth in 2010, or thereabouts, yes?'
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NIGHT OF THE HUMANS
Amy nodded.
'Well I reckon we're somewhere around the year 250,000.'
Before Amy could say anything, the Doctor crouched down beside the wreckage of the probe once more, flipping open a panel at its side.
'Now where... is... it?' he said, drawing his sonic screwdriver from his pocket with one hand and rummaging through the inside of the probe with the other. 'Oh! There it is!'
With a high-pitched squeal the sonic screwdriver came to life, shining a needle-thin beam of green light into the probe's inner workings.
'Atomic clock.' The Doctor continued. 'Battery's run down a bit since 1972, but this should sort it. Right... Yes. The year is 250,339. To be precise, it's 14 March 2
50,339. And it's six minutes past one in the afternoon.'
He stood up once more and turned around. Amy was still wide eyed with shock.
'Two... two hundred... and fifty... thousand?' she spluttered.
'Three hundred and thirty-nine! the Doctor added, beaming.
'But that's... that's...'
'Yes. Quite distant future, I suppose. For you.'
'Quite distant? Quite? Distant?'
'Well, I don't know why you're so surprised. You've been to the future. I'd have thought the
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novelty would have worn off by—'
'But two hundred and fifty thousand?'
'Yes. That's what I said. And that would certainly make sense of the size of this thing. It must be hundreds, maybe thousands of miles across for it to have any sort of gravity.
And an atmosphere.'
The Doctor gazed up at the dark blue sky above them. 'Oh!
There it is!' he said, grinning and pointing up.
'What's that?' asked Amy.
Following his finger she saw, in amongst the twinkling stars and distant planets, a single glowing object, brighter than anything else. Trailing behind it was a flickering spectral tail, with a faint green and purple mist in its wake.
'Schuler-Khan!' said the Doctor. 'The comet? The one I just mentioned? Only problem is—'
Before he could say another word, they heard the whirring sound of an engine, and a voice shouted, 'Halt!'
Both Amy and the Doctor looked up to the crest of the scrap pile, and saw a four-wheeled vehicle, like a dune buggy.
Riding it were two creatures in blue spacesuits, their smooth bald heads a dolphin-like shade of grey, their faces almost featureless save for small black eyes and thin, lipless mouths.
Hanging from the side of the vehicle, one of the creatures had a large and powerful-looking rifle aimed straight at them.
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NIGHT OF THE HUMANS
'Don't move!' the creature yelled. The engine whirred once more, the large, heavy-duty wheels spinning up clouds of dust and shards of metal, and the buggy came rolling down towards them. After slamming into the Pioneer's dish, crushing it as if it were made of paper, the buggy came to a halt in the valley.