Doctor Who BBCN17 - Sick Building

by Doctor Who

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘But then, I don’t know what I’m missing, do I?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ she said. ‘But have you really never met any other people besides your parents?’

  ‘Oh, one or two. Father has had a handful of visitors over the years.

  No children, though. But. . . I’ve always had the staff to speak to, if I wanted other company. The Servo-furnishings are amazing. Just like real people, some of them, I imagine. They can be very lifelike. Even spontaneous.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Martha said, unconvinced. She eyed the robot next to them as it stubbed out both cigarettes and slid away, leaving a cloud of blue smoke. ‘I don’t think they’re very like real people, to be honest. It’s not like having brothers and sisters.’

  ‘Do you have siblings, Martha?’ Solin asked, sitting by her again.

  ‘Oh yes,’ she laughed. ‘A whole bunch of them. Well, a brother and a sister. Just about drove me mental. But I’d never be without them. I couldn’t imagine growing up without them.’

  There came a much chillier breeze shushing past them and Martha shivered.

  ‘Please, don’t feel sorry for me,’ Solin said. ‘I’ve had everything I ever wanted, up till now.’

  ‘All right,’ Martha said. ‘It’s a pact. I won’t feel sorry for you.’

  ‘I like you, Martha Jones,’ Solin said, rather abruptly. ‘I think I am not only attracted to you, but I find that you are good company, too.’

  ‘What?’ Martha said. ‘You can’t just come out with stuff like that.’

  He frowned. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s. . . well, it’s a bit embarrassing.’

  He looked earnestly at her and she knew she was hurting his feelings. ‘But I am attracted to you, Martha. I felt it straight away. And you are a nice person, too. I do like you. I want to tell you this.’

  ‘Oh god,’ Martha sighed. ‘Social skills not high on the Dreamhome priority list, eh?’

  31

  ‘On the contrary,’ Solin said, ‘My manners, I hope, are impeccable.

  I hope I was very polite when I told you that I wanted to kiss you, and so on.’

  ‘What?!’ Martha started laughing at this. She couldn’t stop for a few minutes. ‘You’re just a kid! Shut up! Stop saying that!’

  ‘But I. . . ’ Solin stopped. Martha looked up to see fury flooding his face. Then, chagrined, he turned on his heel and marched back into the dining room.

  Oh, well handled Martha, she congratulated herself. She followed him, feeling dreadful for laughing, and found she was just in time to be served a helping of the most extravagant trifle she had ever seen. The Doctor winked at her, already tucking in. Tiermann seemed furious still. His wife looked serene, watching her robot eat dessert for her. And Solin had been excused from the table.

  I could do without the poor kid getting a crush, Martha thought.

  Crushes could be awkward. In fact, it was best to avoid having them completely, as she herself knew.

  The Doctor was refusing to go to bed. He wasn’t, he said, in the least bit sleepy.

  The rest of the household had retired some time ago, replete and yawning. He watched with some amazement as they all drifted off to their luxurious quarters, bidding each other sweet dreams. He wanted to shake them! This was their last complete night in this house, and they were treating the whole exodus-running-away thing as if they were setting off on a jolly holiday.

  ‘Make yourself at home, Doctor,’ Tiermann had told him. ‘Stay up as long as you like. The robots will bring you anything you require.’

  He watched them go, and said good night, and didn’t even try to get Tiermann involved in a last-minute argument. In fact, as he told Martha, before she drifted off to her own room, he wasn’t sure why he had tried so hard to pick a fight with Tiermann. ‘Something about the bloke gets up my nose, though,’ the Doctor said.

  At bedtime, even Solin had been as subdued as his mother, nodding a stiffly formal goodnight to their guests. ‘What’s the matter with 32

  him?’ the Doctor asked Martha. She shrugged and blushed and the Doctor grinned. ‘Was it when you went out on the veranda? Did he declare his undying love for you, Martha? Did he?’

  ‘Shut up,’ she frowned, and hit him with a cushion. ‘Poor kid. He’s like a newly hatched chick, latching onto the first face he sees. . . ’

  ‘Ahh, it’s sweet,’ laughed the Doctor, and Martha rolled her eyes.

  ‘Hey, what about old Ma Tiermann, eh? The elegant Amanda? How weird is she, eh?’

  ‘Ssh! Keep your voice down!’ Martha knew that the Doctor’s voice could carry. She dreaded the idea of Amanda overhearing him.

  ‘But. . . how weird, eh? She even had a robot eating her dinner for her!’ Another thought seemed to strike him as he paced up and down the marble floor. ‘She’s just way too cosseted and primped up. They all are. How do they expect to survive in the real world, out there?’

  Martha shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But they’re going to have to, aren’t they? Pretty soon.’ Then she stretched and yawned and told him she was off to her bed now.

  ‘OK, OK,’ he said. ‘I’m staying up. I’m going to have a little think for a while. I’m not sleepy at all yet.’

  Martha left him then, dead on her feet. The Doctor hardly ever seemed to need a full night’s sleep. She didn’t know how he managed, careering around at full speed like he did, gabbling away at full tilt.

  Well, she thought, I’m not a Time Lord, and I need to get my rest, and try out that fantastic bedroom. . . And so off she went, leaving the Doctor poking around and exploring the Dreamhome.

  Of course, the Doctor had a plan. He was staying up for a very particular reason.

  He waited till everyone was gone, and the house was quite still, and he imagined that everyone was settled down. He bided his time by examining the strange, alien knick-knacks on the shelves, and glancing through the leather-bound books in the library. ‘It’s a library of all the most boring books in the cosmos. . . ’ he whispered. And it was true! He had never seen such a dull bunch. ‘It’s a temple of soporific charms!’ He barked his shin on a coffee table and cried out. ‘The place is chock-a-block with minimalism,’ he cursed.

  33

  When one of the robots came tootling up to him, asking if he needed anything, he brusquely told it, ‘No. I won’t need anything at all. All night. I need to be left alone.’

  ‘Very good, sir,’ the chunky, glass-bodied robot nodded, and turned away, rather stung by the Doctor’s tone.

  ‘Oh, wait!’ the Doctor said. ‘You could leave the French windows open, if you like.’

  ‘The windows, sir?’ The bland-faced robot somehow managed to look scandalised at the Doctor’s suggestion.

  ‘Yes,’ said the Doctor. ‘I’m not tired yet, and I might fancy a stroll about on the lawns. Or maybe even a dash. Would you mind?’

  ‘It’s highly irregular, sir. But your wish is my command.’

  ‘Good,’ grinned the Doctor. He paused to admire all of the sparking and whirring innards of the robot, plainly on show through his bulky glass body. ‘What a charming robot you are. What do they call you?’

  ‘Stirpeek, sir,’ intoned the robot as he zapped the windows’ remote controls, and up they went with a shimmer and a hum.

  ‘Marvellous, Stirpeek,’ said the Doctor. ‘Now, would you kindly see to it that I don’t get disturbed at all? While I’m out taking the night air?’

  The robot seemed to frown at him. Almost suspiciously. The Doctor blinked. He put on his most harmless expression.

  ‘Very well, sir,’ Stirpeek said at last.

  ‘Fantastic,’ smiled the Doctor. Then he turned and pelted out of the luxurious sitting room. He took great big lungfuls of the night air on the veranda outside. He relished the sensation of the cool, fresh night, after being cooped up for hours in the stuffy formality of the Tiermanns’ dinner party. He knew this fresh air was fake though: it was recycled and conditioned under the shimmering
dome.

  The dome! That’s what he was out here for, wasn’t it? The Doctor fished his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and set his jaw determinedly. Then he hopped over the stone balustrade and onto the dark lawn. Then he was belting hell-for-leather across the grass.

  Inside the Dreamhome, several sets of glowing robot eyes watched him as he went. He had told the doubtful Stirpeek that he might go 34

  for a run on the lawn. Perhaps this was nothing unusual. But still the Servo-furnishings were suspicious. None of them had ever seen anyone like the Doctor before. They decided to watch him very, very closely.

  Meanwhile the Doctor was congratulating himself warmly for his success in escaping into the freezing dark. Easy! Easy as anything!

  He skidded smoothly to a halt at the very edge of the lawn. He was back at the force shield and its harsh buzzing filled his ears. Beyond the shimmering transparency of the shield he could see the forest.

  It looked sugar-frosted and beautiful in the moonlight. He knew, though, that it was home to a million terrible dangers. Even more so, in the night-time, than in the day. The desperate forest dwellers, spooked by the approach of the Craw, would be going out of their minds.

  But. . .

  and here the Doctor swallowed these thoughts down bravely. . . he had to gird his loins, or whatever the ridiculous phrase was, and get back out there, into the wintry wilderness. Though he hadn’t expressed it to Martha, he was worried about the TARDIS. In his keenness to help out the human settlers of Tiermann’s World, he had left the TARDIS-poor old thing-out there, vulnerable and alone.

  Her powers were astonishing, but even she couldn’t survive the approach of the Voracious Craw. She’d be chomped and chewed up with the rest of everything when the Craw arrived tomorrow night.

  So he had to get a move on. He had to open up the shields just enough to let himself out. He had to cross the deadly forest all the way they had come today. He had to make sure he didn’t get lost or eaten or in some way horribly maimed. And then he had to get to his TARDIS and bring it safely here. Great! Nothing to it! Just the kind of stuff the Doctor liked to get up to!

  He hurried over to the pillar box which housed the force shield’s controls. Sonic at the ready. He could work out how it operated. Easy as.

  Ah. Then it struck him. The pillar box was on the other side of the shield. He smacked his palm to his forehead. Stupid Doctor. But there must be another one! There had to be, didn’t there?

  35

  He leapt into the shrubbery at the edge of the lawn and started thrashing through the thick undergrowth. There had to be a set of controls here somewhere! There just had to be! Otherwise. . . no one could get out, could they? And Solin had managed to get out into the wilderness, hadn’t he? So there had to be. . .

  And he found it. Hidden behind the overgrown branches and thick grass. Another pillar box. It was as if it wasn’t meant to be found.

  As if no one living in the Dreamhome had any business venturing out into the wicked woods.

  Well see about that, thought the Doctor grimly. He flung open the control panel, set his sonic to full power, and started messing about with the intricate innards of the box. A shower of sparks shot out and he laughed jubilantly. The crackling of the force shield increased in pitch. The Doctor jabbed at the wires a few extra times for good measure, and stood back slightly, nodding with satisfaction as a door-shaped aperture started to appear in the gauzy shields before him.

  This was it. It was opening up for him.

  ‘Doctor! Stop!’

  His head whipped round. ‘Whaaaat?’ And he cursed with frustration.

  ‘Doctor!

  This is forbidden!

  You may do anything you like in

  Dreamhome. . . but tampering with the force shield is expressly forbidden! Stop and desist!’

  The Doctor pulled a sullen face. ‘Are you sure, Stirpeek?’

  The bulky robot was hurtling across the lawn towards the Doctor, putting on a surprising turn of speed. He was accompanied by several other, very determined and outraged-looking Servo-furnishings. Their eyes were glowing an indignant red. All of them were shouting now; telling him to stop. Behind them, lights were popping on all over the Dreamhome, as alarms went off, and family members woke, alerted by the noise.

  How embarrassing, thought the Doctor. And then: ‘Oowwww!’ he cried out, as a hot laser bolt sizzled through the air. It knocked him back from the controls and made him drop his sonic in the grass. ‘Hey, hang on. . . ’ he shouted. That REALLY STUNG!’

  36

  Stirpeek and the others ringed him around and, all of sudden, they were menacing rather than comic. Stirpeek glided right up to the Doctor, who was forced to stare back at the ticking wheels and cogs of the robot’s brain. ‘Professor Tiermann has instructed us to punish anyone,’ Stirpeek told him politely, ‘who breaks the fundamental rules of Dreamhome. And what is more, we are fully authorised to kill.’

  37

  HewasledindisgracebytheServo-furnishingsbacktotheTiermann homestead. By now the whole Dreamhome was ablaze with light, and the whole family would be up, waiting for him.

  The Doctor hung his head as Stirpeek and the others led him along.

  Several of them had spiky metal appendages hooked into his clothes.

  When he tried to surprise them by bolting, whirling and trying to run, all he succeeded in doing was tearing one of the pockets of his coat, which made him even crosser.

  ‘I think you’ll find that it’s possibly rather better not to resist, Doctor,’ Stirpeek pointed out helpfully.

  Back in the drawing room, the Doctor was confronted by the whole Tiermann family, plus Martha. All were in dressing gowns and wore a range of expressions from outright fury to dismay and disappointment. Martha gave him a quizzical look and all he could do was shrug at her.

  At the moment all the Doctor could think about was the TARDIS.

  Now Tiermann would see to it that it would be impossible to get out there to retrieve it. I’ve really messed up, thought the Doctor glumly.

  39

  ‘We trusted you, Doctor,’ Tiermann thundered. He was wearing a very glitzy golden dressing gown. ‘We took you into our home and, though we knew you were quite disapproving of the way we lived, we made you our guest. And you repay us like this! By sabotaging our defensive force shields!’

  Amanda Tiermann sat carefully down on an armchair, looking very sorrowful indeed. She looked as if the Doctor had been caught com-mitting the worst crime imaginable. Her son sat by her, looking similarly woebegone.

  ‘Rubbish,’ the Doctor protested. ‘I wasn’t sabotaging anything!’

  Stirpeek spoke up, ‘He was jabbing that sonic device into the force-shield mechanism, sir. I believe that he was trying to break through to outside.’

  The Doctor shot the robot a venomous glance. ‘Well, that’s quite true. But I was just trying to get out so I could get to my ship. . . We left it out there. I wasn’t trying to damage your shields. . . ’

  ‘Sir,’ Stirpeek piped up again. ‘Sensors indicate widespread damage and fluctuating effectiveness of the shields across eighty-four per cent of the dome.’

  ‘What?’ cried Tiermann. Amanda jerked in her chair, her face stricken with fear. ‘We are almost defenceless!’ her husband bellowed.

  He marched up to the Doctor and glared down into his face.

  Martha darted forward. ‘The Doctor would never have done anything like that on purpose. Believe me! That’s not what he’s like. . . ’

  ‘How do we know?’ cried Tiermann. ‘He comes here, we welcome him. He tampers with our defences. . . ’

  The Doctor broke in, enunciating very carefully: ‘I didn’t do any harm to the force shields. The fluctuations and the damage are caused by the approach of the Voracious Craw. Electronics often go haywire as the Craw comes nearer. It is a well-recorded fact. That’s what’s happening here.’

  They all stared at him. ‘Funny,’ Tiermann said, in a quieter, infinitel
y more threatening voice. ‘How all of this. . . disaster arrives alongside you, Doctor.’

  ‘Hilarious, isn’t it?’ said the Doctor grimly.

  40

  Martha tried again: ‘He means no harm. Neither of us do. We just came here to help. . . ’

  Amanda Tiermann spoke then, startling them all. ‘But, my dear, he was sneaking out in the night, back to his ship. He was quite content to leave you behind here. What about that?’

  Martha frowned in confusion. ‘But, he wouldn’t! That’s not what he was doing!’

  ‘I was bringing the TARDIS here, under the shields,’ the Doctor said.

  ‘Or at least I would have, given half a chance. These robots of yours are very annoying, Tiermann.’

  ‘Take him,’ Tiermann instructed, making a lofty gesture.

  The

  ramshackle collection of robots surrounded the Doctor once more.

  They would have been laughable in their incongruity, if the Doctor hadn’t also been aware of how incredibly strong they were. He felt himself grasped and pinioned by Stirpeek, the canapé robot and the spindly robot responsible for making sure all the high windows were closed at night. The Doctor wasn’t able to budge an inch as the Servo-furnishings waited to hear what Tiermann was going to say next.

  ‘We need to put him out of the way,’ Tiermann said thoughtfully.

  ‘Until it is time for us to leave. The Doctor has proved himself to be a meddler. And we cannot allow him to interfere with our escape.’

  ‘But he wouldn’t!’ Martha cried out.

  ‘Ssh, Martha,’ Solin said, stepping up to gently take her arm. He knew that there was no use arguing with his father in this mood. Tiermann had become imperious and hectoring. He was used to getting his own way.

  The Doctor had stopped trying to escape from the robots’ many arms. He simply stood there looking cross – with himself, more than anything.