Apollo 23
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Amy let the door close behind her, then keyed the 121
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code in again to make sure she could get out. Happy that it worked both ways, she let the door close once more, then made her way cautiously along the corridor to Pod 7.
The light gradually dimmed as she went along the corridor, augmented at first and eventually replaced by the blood-red glow of the emergency lighting. Amy guessed that as the area wasn't used, they didn't bother keeping the lights on all the time.
If it really wasn't used.
The corridor ended in another door. Again, Amy keyed in the 2117 code. Again, the door slid silently open. And Amy stepped into a nightmare.
There were twenty tables, arranged in four rows of five and all illuminated by the eerie red lighting. Each table was about two metres long by a metre wide, all identical, plain, plastic and metal like you might find in a modern office.
Except that lying on each table was a body. Wires ran from pads attached to the bodies' temples to a monitor beside each table. Heartbeats blipped across a small screen.
Temperatures rose and fell by fractions of a degree. All twenty bodies breathed to the same rhythm, so that the room itself sounded as if it was alive.
Amy walked slowly between the rows of tables. What was this place? A sick bay, or something more sinister?
All twenty bodies were wearing army uniforms. They were mostly men, but there were a few women too. All twenty had their eyes wide open, and all were staring sightlessly at the ceiling.
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All except the soldier on the table closest to the door where Amy had come in. He was staring right at Amy as she moved along the rows of tables. The blip of his heartbeat went dead and his temperature fell, as he pulled the pads from his head and sat up.
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The hot Texan sun reflected off the polished metal plates like they were mirrors. Candace Hecker watched Graham Haines repositioning one of the plates. Other scientists were checking the angles and connections of the other plates.
For once, Agent Jennings' sunglasses didn't seem out of place as he stood with General Walinski watching the work.
Feeling both unnecessary and out of her depth, Candace joined them. She wasn't used to feeling this way, and she didn't like it.
'Will this work?' Walinski asked.
Candace shrugged. 'Who knows? No one really understands how quantum displacement works, not since Charlie Flecknoe died.'
'He set the systems up?' Jennings asked.
Candace nodded. 'Invented it, built the equipment, got it working. Then got cancer and was dead in months. That was back in the eighties. He left loads of
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n ot es, but o n ly a few p eop le un derstan d any o f th em. It 's been en o ugh to k eep th e sy st em s wo rk in g, but we'v e really been o p erat in g o n a win g an d a p ray er.'
'An d n o w t he win g's b ust ’ W alin sk i to ld th em . 'But th is Do ct o r - h e seem s t o un derst an d it .'
'He do esn 't lo o k o ld en o ugh t o k n o w diddly ’ Jen n in gs said.
Th ey wat ch ed t h e Do ct o r in h is sh irt sleev es run n in g bet ween t h e m et al p lat es th at ran in t wo p arallel lin es acro ss t h e desert .
He realign ed so m e, ch eck ed th e wires co nn ect in g ot hers.
So m et im es just n o dded h is ap p reciat io n .
'He lo o k s o lder wh en h e's busy ,' W alin sk i said. 'T h ere's n o quest io n h e k n o ws h is st uff. I m ean , h e can 't be bluffin g can h e?'
'His equat io n s are brilliant an d co rrect ,' Can dace said. 'His th eory seem s so un d. He cert ain ly un derst an ds t h e p rin cip les in v o lv ed. He's...' Sh e st ruggled t o th in k of a less em otive wo rd, but co uldn 't. 'He's a gen ius’ sh e adm itt ed. 'But even h e say s th ere's n o guaran t ee t h is will wo rk .'
'So wh at 's sup p o sed t o h ap p en ?' Jen n in gs ask ed.
Th e Do ct o r cam e runn in g up t o th em in t im e t o h ear t h e que st io n . 'Th e wh o le t h eo ry 's bo nk ers’ h e said. 'So p ro bably n ot h in g. But if I can reso n at e th e p lat es at th e sam e frequen cy as t h e recept ors o n t h e m oo n , t h at m igh t est ablish an affin it y bet ween t h e t wo lo cat io n s so t hey o verlap again .'
'Yo u can fix it ?' W alinsk i said.
'In abo ut t hree mo nt h s wit h un lim it ed fun din g an d reso urces, lik e t h e p eo p le wh o set it up - of co urse I can . No pro blem . But t o day ? W ell, so rt o f,
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maybe, a bit. Most likely it won't work at all. Or if it does, it won't be stable.'
'So, forgive me, but what's the point?' asked Jennings.
'There's always a chance it will work. You've got to try,'
Candace told him.
'Absolutely’ the Doctor agreed. He pulled a roll of paper from his pocket - Candace could see it was a sheaf of pages torn from a notebook and covered with handwritten scribbles.
'It might not be safe for any of us to go through, but I've written some thoughts on how the systems can be repaired at the moonbase end. Assuming they want to repair them. But the advantage of paper is that it won't suffocate if it's left out on the moon.' He stuffed the notes back in his pocket. 'Now I have a question,' he said to Jennings.
'Yeah?'
'Aren't you hot in that suit?'
It was even hotter inside the spacesuit. The Doctor found the close-fitting
white
cotton
balaclava
even
more
claustrophobic and stifling.
'I'd rather be in my own spacesuit; it's not so cumbersome,' he complained.
'I don't know where you got it,' Candace told him, 'but you've lost the helmet, and ours don't fit. I'm looking forward to reverse-engineering the thing.'
'Don't you dare. Not so much as a stitch of it.'
'But— ' she started to protest.
The Doctor put his hand up. 'Ah!' he warned. 'End of.'
With everyone cleared well out of the way, the 127
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Doctor stood at the end of the path formed between the rows of reflective metal plates. He operated the control on the side of his helmet that lowered the gold-tinted visor, blocking out the glare.
He held up his sonic screwdriver in a bulky, gloved hand.
'Well, here we go,' he murmured.
The tip of the screwdriver glowed into life. There was a hum of power from the generators attached to the plates.
He adjusted the screwdriver setting slightly to alter the frequency. The air in front of the Doctor was shimmerin g with the heat. But maybe also with something else.
Between the lines of plates, the sky darkened. The sand was drained of colour - grey and barren. A wind blew past the Doctor as air rushed into the area where there had been a vacuum, filling the path between the receptors on the moon.
'Oh yes’ the Doctor announced. But his glee was tempered when he s aw the figure swimming into existence in front of him.
Colonel Devenish's ravaged face stared back at the Doctor from where he lay on the surface of the moon. His gloved hand stretched out, as if pleading for help - help that had never come.
It was like walking into a storm, as if the air was rushing out again. The Doctor leaned into it, struggling forwards.
'What's happening?' Candace Hecker's voice asked inside his helmet. 'Is it working?'
'Yes and no’ the Doctor gasped as he stumbled onwards.
The displacement won't hold for long. If I'm ins ide the area when it fails, I'll be ripped apart.
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T h e lo cal geo grap h y's t ryin g t o reassert it self.'
'Just leav e y o ur p ap ers an d get o ut .'
Th e Doct or h ad his sh eaf of papers in h is free h an d. He p ressed t h em do wn o n th e dust y gro un d c
lo se t o Dev en ish 's bo dy . He co uld feel t h e p ap ers figh t in g t o escap e an d blo w a way . He n eeded t o weigh th em do wn , but ev en t hen t hey m ight be rip ped ap art wh en t h e disp lacem en t bubble burst .
Dev en ish 's sp ace h elm et was clo se by - ach in gly clo se t o t he dead m an 's h an d. Th e Do cto r ro lled it on t op o f th e p ap ers. Th e h elm et t rem bled in t h e gale, but st ay ed p ut . T h en th e Do ct o r t oo k Dev en ish 's o ut st retch ed h an d.
'I'm so rry ,' h e m urm ured. 'I n ev er m eant t o leav e yo u h ere t o die, an d I'm n ot leav in g yo u to get rip p ed apart no w.' The win d was wit h h im as h e dragged t h e m an 's bo dy back in t o t he Texan desert.
Clo se by , lay an ot h er sp ace h elm et - red an d gleam in g. Th e Do cto r st retched o ut a leg awk wardly , an d k ick ed t h e h elm et ah ead o f h im . It ro lled lik e t um ble weed acro ss t h e co ld lun ar surface an d o ut in t o t h e sh im m erin g h eat o f t h e desert .
Th e Do ct o r fo llo wed aft er it , draggin g Co lo n el Dev en ish 's bo dy . As so on as he was clear o f the lin e of m et al p lates, h e san k t o h is k n ees.
Beh in d h im , th e p lat es exp lo ded, on e after anoth er, all alo n g th e lin es. Bet ween th em, a trail o f st um blin g foot m ark s an d th e p at h o f a dragged bo dy st art ed abrup t ly , t h en led o ut o f th e p at h way t o wh ere t h e Do ct o r was st rugglin g o ut o f h is sp acesuit.
'So clo se,' Can dace said, run n in g o v er to h im . 'We alm o st did it.
If o n ly t h e lin k h ad st abilised.'
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'History is full of "if only"s’ the Doctor told her sadly.
'That was our last chance. Our last way back to the moon.' He pulled off a glove and hurled it to the ground.
General Walinski was standing beside Candace Hecker.
The two of them exchanged looks.
'No,' Walinski said to her. 'Absolutely not.'
'What?' the Doctor asked. 'Tell me.'
'You said we'd lost our last chance to get back to the moon’ Candace said. Walinski sighed and looked down at the sandy desert floor as she went on: 'There might just be another way.'
The soldier's attention was fixed on Amy. He swung his legs over the side of the table in a single fluid movement and stood up.
'Nearest the door, so you must be the guard’ Amy said.
The soldier didn't reply. He looked to be about the same age as Amy, with close-cropped fair hair. He walked calmly and purposefully towards her.
Amy backed away, keeping several tables between them.
The soldier changed cours e, moving between tables, but always blocking Amy's route to the door.
'Tell you what, I'll just be going. I can let myself out.'
The soldier didn't s eem to have heard. He was focused intently on Amy. As he got closer, his hands reached out -
like a zombie in a cheap movie. Except that film zombies usually lumbered and lurched s lowly after their victims.
This guy was walking briskly and with determination.
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Amy ran down a line of tables, cutting back into the next row. The s oldier matched her, running parallel along the other s ide of the tables, and cutting through so he was in the next aisle.
What if she stopped, and waited to see which way he went ? Would the soldier just s witch off, like the other one had done?
She tried it. They faced each other over the prone body of a young woman in army fatigues.
'You just going to stand there all day?' Amy asked.
As if in answer, the soldier leaned forward, both hands on the edge of the table. Then in a s ingle movement, he vault ed across the table and the body lying on it, landing right beside Amy.
She gave a shriek of surprise, instantly embarrassed by it, and ran.
The soldier was no longer between her and the door.
But he was right next to her. His hand grabbed Amy's hair, jerking her back as she moved.
'Get off!' she yelled.
But the s oldier held on, dragging Amy back towards him.
In desperat ion she kicked backwards at him, hoping to slam her foot into his shin. Instead it caught the low pedest al bes ide the bed. The imp act jarred right up through her leg, making her eyes wat er as much as the pain from having her hair pulled.
The pedestal rocked as she kicked it. The equipment slid across the top, and cras hed to the floor. Wires stretched and tangled. A connection broke loose. An alarm sounded - an insistent low buzzer.
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And, suddenly, Amy was free. The soldier let go of her hair. She was so surprised she didn't move. The soldier quickly but carefully lifted the equipment back onto the pedestal and reconnected the loose wire. The buzzer stopped. The soldier turned back towards Amy. His hands shot out again, but this time she managed to duck out of reach.
She turned and ran - the soldier close behind her. His booted footsteps echoing in her ears as he closed on her.
The door was so far away. Amy dodged round tables, raced along the aisles between them. But the soldier was right behind her. She felt his hand brush against her shoulder as he grabbed for her. Knew that before she reached the door, he would catch up with her. And when he did...
Gasping for breath, she ran faster. Past the table where the soldier chasing her had been sleeping. Just one row of tables between Amy and the door now.
Then her foot caught on the trailing wires that the soldier had pulled from his own temple and discarded. She slipped, stumbled, almost regained her balance. Fell.
The back of Amy's head crashed into the floor. The ceiling above her shimmered and blurred. She stared up into the empty grey eyes of the solder as his hands reached down and closed round her neck.
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Amy didn't give the soldier a chance to tighten his grip. She rolled out of the way, breaking his grip. As she rolled, she kicked out at the nearest pedestal, sending equipment flying.
As soon as she was on her feet, she ran - not for the door, but from bed to bed, ripping electrodes off the sleepers' temples and pushing over the monitoring equipment.
The soldier set about picking up the monitors and reattaching the connections. He was meticulous and efficient. This was obviously a higher priority than chasing intruders.
'So it's your job to keep them safe,' Amy said. 'But safe for what?'
She watched the soldier reconnect another sleeper. The monitor blipped back into life. Temperature readings and blood pressure numbers ros e to what Amy assumed was normal. She backed slowly away, not taking her eyes off the soldier as he worked. Would
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he decide she was a priority if he saw her escaping?
The door had slid shut behind her when she came in. She had to turn to see the numbers on the pad. It took her only a few seconds to key in the code, but she expected the soldier to be standing right there with her when she looked back.
He was still resetting the equipment on the other side of the room. She'd done it. She was safe.
Behind Amy, the door slid silently open.
She turned to leave. Just as a hand came down on her shoulder, gripping her tight.
'What are you doing here?'
They shared the back of a jeep back to Base Hibiscus - the Doctor, Candace, General Walinski and Agent Jennings.
The Doctor was nursing his spacesuit helmet. Neither Walinski nor Candace Hecker had elaborated on their suggestion he could still get back to the moon. Was there an emergency back-up system? Something so dangerous they didn't dare use it?
'We still have no proof,' Walinski said above the sound of the engine, 'that your theory about alien invaders has any validity. It's a bit wild, to say the least.'
'The best theories are,' the Doctor told him. 'But whether I'm right or not, we need to re-establish a link with your base.'
'It's a question of urgency,' Hecker said. 'The technicians on Diana will be working on it. Jackson's brilliant. If anyone can fix this, he can.'
'So, what if anyone can't fix this?' Jennings shrugged.
'Just playing devil's advocate. But maybe
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n o on e can so rt it , not ev en Jack son . An d m ay be - just m ay be - t he Do cto r here is right . It doesn 't h ave t o be alien s, but if som eon e is sabo tagin g th e sy st em s at th e mo on base en d, it wo n't m att er ho w brillian t Jack so n is.'
'W ho do yo u th ink m ight be beh in d t h e dam age?' th e Do ct or ask ed. He sen sed Jen n in gs wasn 't co nv inced it was ex t raterrestrials.
'Hell, we'v e lo ck ed up a lo t o f dan gero us an d un p leasant p eo p le th ere, Do c. Any on e o f th em co uld h av e frien ds willin g t o die t o get t h em free, o r ev en just t o m ake a p o int.'
'He's a dwarf,' t h e Do ct o r said. 'Do I lo o k lik e a dwarf?'
Jenn in gs fro wned. 'The saboteur? Yo u m ean h e had to fit into so m e sm all sp ace t o access t he sy stems?'
'No , n o, n o . Do c is a dwarf. I'm not .' T h e Do ct o r st oo d up in t he jeep, sway in g as it m ov ed, t o m ak e th e p o int . Th ere was an esp ecially v io lent jo lt as th ey crested a san d dun e, an d h e sat do wn again . 'Sleep y , Sn eezy , Do zy , M ick an d T it ch .' He st op p ed, bit in g h is lo wer lip as h e th o ught abo ut t h is. 'No, h an g on , t hat 's not right, is it. Sleepy , Sn eezy , Dop ey , Grump y, Hap p y, Bash ful - do esn 't en d in "ee" but I'm sure th at 's right, aft er all h e's an oth er mo o d, isn 't h e?'
An d Do c’ Can dace p ut in . "T h at's righ t .'
'Do c's not a mo o d’ t he Do cto r said. 'W h ich alway s wo rried me, but h e is defin it ely dim in ut iv e. An d I'm n ot. So don 't call me Do c, OK - Agen t Jen n?'
Jen n in gs laugh ed. 'Sure t h in g, Docto r. T ho ugh if y o u m eet any on e as pretty as Sn o w Wh it e, y o u let m e k no w wh ere to fin d h er, OK?'
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'She's on the moon’ the Doctor said. 'And I'm going to get her back.'