Doctor Who BBCN17 - Sick Building (20 page)

The Doctor looked cross for a second. ‘You lot! You’ve got no spirit of adventure. Think of it like. . . being a matador with a bull, and. . . ’

He blinked. ‘I’m not convincing you, am I?’

Barbara shook her head. ‘I think that we’ve all been through enough near-scrapes for one day.’

‘Can I have another bottle of pop?’ the Doctor asked her.

‘Of course you can.’

‘Doctor,’ Toaster said.

‘Everyone!’ the Doctor suddenly urged them. ‘Drink up! More pop!

You’ve got to have more pop!’

‘Doctor,’ said Toaster again.

‘Don’t you have any weapons on board this ship?’ Solin said. ‘Can’t we just blast the Voracious Craw out of the sky?’

‘Weapons?’ said the Doctor scornfully. ‘Anyway, how successful were your father’s weapons against the Voracious Craw?’

Solin sighed. ‘Didn’t even scratch it.’

The Doctor nodded.

‘Doctor!’ said Toaster for the third time, very impatiently.

They all stared at him. ‘Toaster, what is it?’ Barbara said.

‘Take us back to Dreamhome,’ Toaster said, in a voice that was stronger and more vibrant than his usual one. ‘You must return us there. And you must do everything you can to save the Domovoi. . . ’

The Doctor frowned at him. ‘The Domovoi? She’s too big to move.

She’s too rooted into the ground. We can’t. . . ’ He was staring at the sun bed now. ‘Oh, I see.’

‘I know you can save her, Doctor,’ Toaster said. ‘I know you can do it with this dimensionally transcendental ship. You could materialise 143

around her. You could save her that way.’

Martha said, ‘Why is Toaster talking like that? He’s not being like himself. . . ’

The Doctor hissed out of the corner of his mouth: ‘Look at his eyes!’

They were a scorching, lethal red.

‘He’s been possessed!’ Barbara shrieked. ‘The Domovoi has taken him over!’

‘You can do it, Doctor. You can bring the Domovoi safely aboard your TARDIS.’

The Doctor laughed mockingly. ‘What? And have that crazy machine take over my ship? It’s like a monster, the Domovoi. It’s as Voracious as the Craw itself. My poor TARDIS would be taken over, just like you, Toaster.’

‘Nevertheless,’ said the sun bed slyly. ‘You will do as I say.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ jeered the Doctor.

And then the sun bed put on a surprising turn of speed. His metal arms lashed out and seized hold of Solin. The boy was too amazed to put up a fight, and it was all over so quickly none of the others had time to react. Solin was bent double in the sun bed’s arms and Toaster had a sliver of his own cracked glass against the boy’s tender throat.

‘I will kill him, Doctor,’ Toaster said. ‘You know very well that the Domovoi will do anything she can to ensure that she survives.’

The Doctor looked very worried. ‘I do. You’re right.’

‘Then take us back to Dreamhome,’ said Toaster, his eyes lividly triumphant. ‘And save the Domovoi!’

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InthefewhourssincetheDoctorandtheothershadabscondedfrom the Dreamhome, a great deal had happened to the once proud and luxurious dwelling.

Mostly damage.

Ernest Tiermann had been doing battle with the place that had been his home, and the entity that had been its presiding spirit.

First came the Professor’s dead wife, animated once more, and coming after him like a zombie. He knew that it wasn’t really Amanda.

There was no hope of reviving his wife. What came after him through the house, arms outstretched, was not a human being any more. He tried crying out her name, but she didn’t know her name any more.

She was intent on destroying him. She came towards him remorselessly, hissing and spitting.

Tiermann had no option but to kill her. This time he had to make sure that his wife stayed dead. He lured her into the ruined kitchen area and managed – after a hideous struggle – to feed her into the waste disposal.

Tiermann couldn’t afford to feel compassion, regret or pity now. He was fighting for his life.

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Then the Sukkazz came up from the depths of the Dreamhome.

Chattering and droning like malicious wasps, hovering and homing in on the only warm-blooded creature in the house. Tiermann felt himself being drawn towards them as they vacuumed their way through the building. Their tiny, ferocious teeth were gnashing and Tiermann knew that, if they got hold of him, he was dead. They would grind him to pieces.

The house was a death trap. He had created an endless cornu-copia of death-dealing devices. The underground swimming pool came gushing out of one doorway he flung open and he was almost swept away and drowned in its warm embrace. But at least the chlo-rinated water got rid of the Sukkazz. Next, the parquet floor rolled up and tripped him up, almost flattening him. The curtains swept into action and tried to smother him. The antique furniture of the grand entranceway came marching after him and almost bludgeoned him to death. His devoted servant Stirpeek emerged from the shadows, intent on his murder. It hurt Tiermann deeply, but he had to smash the robot’s glass brains to expensive smithereens.

Tiermann was wily. He was clever and strong.

He laid explosives. He set them off. He blew up great portions of the home he had created. And, with every room and every wall blown down he could hear the Domovoi shrieking with pain.

The remaining Servo-furnishings came at him, murderously, through the smoke and flames. Their eyes were bright red and they slashed and grabbed at him. But he eluded them. He blew them to bits. One after another! But nothing was safe. Lamps, chairs, refrig-erators. All were deadly in this pitched battle. Electric cables came snaking out of the walls and lashed out at him, spitting venomous sparks. The house was collapsing around him like a pack of cards, and the Domovoi’s face was still flickering away on every screen. Still baleful with green hatred. Still shrieking at him.

‘We will die together, Ernest! This is the end!’

Ernest drew closer to one of those screens. A single wall standing by itself in the smoky confusion. It was hard even to tell which room this had been. Bloody and battered, Ernest leaned close to the screen.

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‘Never. You can’t destroy me.’

The screen shattered and blew apart, sending the old man spinning backwards across the burning rubble. He was cut and the blood flowed freely down his face.

From deep below – forty storeys below – the Domovoi’s laughter was ringing like mad. The ground quaked and rocked with its mania-cal shrieking.

‘Die, Tiermann! We don’t need you any more! Die!’

Tiermann lifted up his head and found he could hear nothing but the super-computer’s voice. Blood was in his eyes so he could hardly see anything either. The flames were lapping closer. His house was in ruins. His family was gone.

What more was there to fight for?

Perhaps this was the right way to go. Overpowered by his greatest creation.

And the two of them about to be swallowed up by the Voracious Craw. So that neither of them could do any more harm.

Yes, thought Ernest Tiermann, as he waited for the gleeful, malicious Domovoi to make its killing blow. Perhaps it was all for the best. . .

‘Look.’ The Doctor jabbed a furious finger at the scanner on the console. On it, there was the image of the silvery-purple form of the Craw, sweeping over the mountains. ‘Just look at that. It’s almost there. The Voracious Craw is nearly with us.’ He glared at Toaster the sun bed, who was standing stiffly possessed and glaring back at the Time Lord.

‘Then you must hurry, Doctor,’ Toaster intoned. ‘And materialise your ship around the Domovoi.’

‘I won’t do that,’ the Doctor said softly.

Solin was struggling in Toaster’s firm grasp. The robot said, ‘I will burst open his jugular. The boy will bleed to death, right here on the floor of your ship. Do as I say.’

The Doctor bit his lip. And then he shrugged. He took a desperate gamble. ‘What do I care?’ he said. ‘He’s only some kid. So what, Domovoi?’ He moved towards the control console, and idly started 147

flipping switches. ‘I’m going to take us away from here. I’ve had enough of this wretched planet. What about somewhere gorgeous, eh, Martha? What do you reckon?’

‘Doctor. . . ’ she said, eyes wide. She was watching the jagged piece of glass that the robot was holding at Solin’s throat.

‘Oh my,’ gasped Barbara. She couldn’t cope with this at all. ‘Toaster!

Stop it at once! You must resist the Domovoi! You have to! Shrug off her influence! I managed to, didn’t I? Surely if I could manage it, you could!’

‘You,’ Toaster snarled at her. ‘You interfering old ratbag. What are you? Just a cupboard on legs. A common vending machine! Who cares what you think?’

Solin gasped: ‘Don’t. . . give in to him, Doctor. You mustn’t bring the Domovoi aboard your ship. . . it will. . . take over. . . it’s wicked, Doctor. It mustn’t be allowed to. . . survive. . . ’

‘Hmmmm,’ said the Doctor. And flipped the final switch.

The glowing column in the centre of the console began to smoothly rise and fall. The thunderous wheezing noise of the TARDIS’s engines filled everyone’s ears.

Toaster stiffened and his red eyes narrowed ill suspicion. ‘Wait!

What is happening?’

‘The Doctor’s taken off,’ Martha said. ‘We’re in flight.’

‘Oooohh,’ said Barbara queasily. She staggered back against the railing.

‘Where are we going?’ Toaster demanded. ‘Where are you taking us?’

The Doctor held his gaze. ‘You’ll see soon enough.’

Just when he thought that his time was up, Ernest heard a new noise echoing through the ruined shell of the Dreamhome.

He twisted round onto his side. He rubbed a grimy sleeve over his face and got the blood out of his eyes. Through the churning smoke and flames he could sec something materialising only a few yards away from him.

The noise was an alien one. A weird, rasping, scraping sound.

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And a large blue box was warping into reality before his eyes. It sat there solidly in all of the destruction and chaos, with the white light on its roof flashing away. When the light died down, the doors shot open and out sprang the Doctor. He was finishing up a bottle of orange pop and he was followed, rather more cautiously by Martha and Barbara.

The Doctor was looking around at the devastated Dreamhome with great interest. His companions were horrified by it all. Martha gagged on the choking smoke.

They were followed out of the box by Toaster, and the possessed robot still had Solin in its grasp. ‘No tricks, Doctor,’ Toaster warned.

‘Don’t move away from the TARDIS. Don’t do anything until I tell you.

Otherwise my hand might slip. And Solin will be dead.’

Ernest Tiermann was struggling to sit up amongst the smouldering ruins. He shook his head dazedly to clear it. He could hardly understand what he was witnessing. The Doctor and the others had returned to the Dreamhome. Solin was there, too, but Solin was being threatened. . . by a robot with glowing eyes. . .

‘Nooo!’ howled Tiermann, clawing his way unsteadily back onto his feet. ‘You will not harm my son! You have murdered my wife, you have ruined everything. . . but I will not let you. . . ’

The others were all shocked by Tiermann’s sudden appearance.

‘F-father?’ Solin said, in a gurgling kind of voice.

The sun bed robot’s eyes flashed more intensely. ‘Tiermann,’ it grated harshly. ‘So. Here we are.’

Tiermann moved towards them. Battered and injured as he was, the old man still cut an impressive figure as he advanced on them.

‘Domovoi,’ he said, addressing Toaster. ‘You must make this robot let go of my son. You will not harm him.’ The old man was standing right before them now. ‘It’s me you want. It is me who your fight is with.’

The Doctor tried to butt in. ‘Look here, you lot. Why all this talk about fighting, eh? Where did that ever get anyone? Look at this place! It’s just a smouldering wreck! There’s nothing left to fight over, is there?’

Toaster gave an electronic snarl in the Doctor’s direction. ‘Silence, 149

Doctor. I’ve heard enough of your prattling. Take the boy.’ With that, Toaster thrust his weakened hostage aside, into the Doctor’s arms.

The Doctor took hold of Solin and bundled him away to safety.

‘Martha, check he’s all right,’ he said, and then turned back to Tiermann and Toaster.

Something very strange was happening to the sun-bed robot. He was on fire. He was flickering with pale emerald flame, all over his ungainly body.

‘What’s happening to Toaster?’ Barbara cried. She was distraught at the terrible sight of her friend. ‘Oh, what’s the Domovoi done to him?’

The Doctor’s face was grim.

‘She’s completely subsumed him.

There’s very little of Toaster left. . . ’

Now the burning robot was cackling in the Domovoi’s own insane voice. The flames grew stronger and more verdant. The dark hollows of the Domovoi’s vicious features were becoming apparent.

But still Tiermann faced bravely up to his foe. ‘So. You are freed from the cellar. From Level Minus Forty. Now, at the very last, the Domovoi has come out to play.’

She cackled hugely with glee. ‘To the death, Tiermann?’