Doctor Who: The Clockwise Man

by Richards, Justin

  The Embankment was the only clue they had, and, as Repple pointed out, he could have been lying.

  'You are sure that this Wyse is Shade Vassily?' Melissa said. The three of them, shadowed by the two Mechanicals, were walking quickly from Melissa's house back towards the Imperial Club, and the Embankment.

  'Yeah,' the Doctor said. He drew a heavy breath. 'And I sent Rose to look for him.' He shook his head sadly.

  'Then we must find him soon,' Repple said. 'If I – he – is capable of the things Miss Heart claims. . .'

  'He is,' she told them. And more. You cannot even begin to imagine.'

  The Doctor nodded gravely. 'Sadly, I can. Come on.'

  He led them more quickly into the fog that now swirled around them. 'Oh, this is no good. They could be anywhere.' He stopped and spun round and round in circles. 'Soon we won't be able to see Rose even if she jumps up and down in front of us. Which,' he added, 'is the sort of thing she might do.'

  'Doctor,' Repple said levelly, 'who is that?' He pointed into the fog. A dark smudge did indeed seem to be jumping up and down, approaching in a rush.

  'Rose?'

  The figure emerged into the pale gleam from the nearest street lamp. Not Rose.

  'Freddie!'

  The boy was gasping for breath. He bent over, massaging his weak leg. After a moment he looked up at the Doctor. His eyes widened, and he gave a yelp of surprise and fear. Melissa and the two Mechanicals had stepped into view. Freddie grabbed the Doctor's sleeve and tried to pull him away.

  'It's all right, Freddie. We're all mates here.'

  'We have an understanding,' Repple assured the boy.

  'Where is Rose?' the Doctor asked quietly.

  'He's got her. Doctor. Got her prisoner.'

  'Wyse?'

  Freddie shrugged. 'A man.'

  And where are they?'

  'Up inside Big Ben,' Freddie said. He was close to tears. 'I tried to get in but it's all locked up. Doctor, she's trapped. We'll never be able to save her.'

  SIXTEEN

  It did not look much like a dead cat, not until the Doctor carefully picked it up and straightened it out. An intricate assembly of brass wheels and levers fell from the split fur. It broke apart as it hit the ground, spilling tiny screws and wheels across the flagstones.

  'Oops.' The Doctor crouched down and tried to gather the bits and pieces together. 'In a bit of a mess.'

  'Can you mend it?' Freddie asked. 'I didn't realise it was a toy, not until the man threw it away.'

  'A toy?' The Doctor prodded at the pile of components on the ground. 'I s'pose it is, really.'

  'We are wasting time,' Repple announced.

  'I agree,' Melissa said. 'We should smash down the door.'

  'Yeah,' the Doctor said. And have that policeman and scores of his chums round here in a flash. That'd help. We're slammed in pokey and London burns. He'll have made sure that door is very secure. Good plan.'

  'You have a better one?' she asked. Her face was almost lost in the darkness, only the silver highlights in the mask were visible as they caught and threw back the light.

  'Must be another way into the stairwell.'

  'No other doors,' Repple pointed out.

  'Doesn't have to be a door.' The Doctor was walking through the arch into the courtyard beyond, examining every inch of the stonework. Eventually he found what he was looking for. 'Windows – look.' He pointed up triumphantly above the arched doorway, above the roof of the adjoining palace. Pale, thin light was spilling from a narrow window above them. 'That one must give on to the stairwell.'

  'And how do we get up there?'

  'We climb.'

  They climbed.

  Melissa instructed the Mechanicals to wait with her at ground level, keeping watch. The Doctor hoisted Freddie on to his shoulders and lifted him as high as he could. The boy clung on to the angled stonework while the Doctor and Repple climbed higher, then the Doctor reached back down and swung up Freddie after him.

  It seemed to take an age, but eventually they reached the flat roof of the main building alongside the clock tower. The dark stone stretched up out of sight above them. They could see the pale glow from the faces of the clock almost 300 feet away, but were too close in to see the clock itself. Even at the modest height they had reached, shreds of fog swirled round them in the increased breeze, clammy and cold.

  The window the Doctor had seen was at his head height now – higher than Freddie. The boy watched while the Doctor and Repple examined it, and he heard their disappointed sighs.

  'What's wrong?'

  'There is a metal mesh over the window,' Repple replied. 'I can probably pull that away, Doctor.'

  'Even so,' the Doctor said.

  'Even so, what?'

  'Too small. Too narrow. We'd never get through there.'

  'The cat?' Repple suggested. 'If it can be repaired.'

  'That'd take time we don't have.' As he spoke, the Doctor glanced down. Melissa and the Mechanicals were standing below, looking up at them. Blank and expressionless.

  Freddie looked back up, and found that the Doctor was staring at him. He lined up his hands with the sides of the window, then lowered them, holding them apart and lining them up with Freddie. It took Freddie a moment to work out what he was doing. Then he went cold with the realisation.

  'Just about,' the Doctor said quietly. 'How about it, Freddie?'

  Freddie swallowed, his throat dry. 'I'm. . . not sure.'

  Repple was already reaching through the window and tearing away the mesh. It made a sound like a saw cutting into hard wood as it pulled free. He hauled out the ragged mesh and dropped it to the leaded roof at their feet.

  Even from where he was standing, looking up, Freddie could see the jagged edges of metal where the mesh had been torn out – sharp spikes jutting from the window edges. 'I won't fit,' he protested. 'I could get scratched. Cut.'

  'Give it a go,' the Doctor said quietly. 'Freddie, I wouldn't ask if there was another way.' He crouched down, face level with Freddie's. 'You were a hero for us before, remember? Your chance to be a hero again.'

  'Not just for us,' Repple said. 'For Rose.'

  'For everyone,' the Doctor agreed. 'All of London. Your parents, everyone.'

  'Like Father,' Freddie murmured, remembering the look on his father's face – the mixture of satisfaction and fear and courage. He wondered if his own face looked the same.

  'We can't make you, Freddie,' the Doctor was saying. 'We can only ask. It's your choice.'

  Freddie sucked in a deep breath, slowly and carefully, afraid it might become a sob. 'I don't want to get hurt,' he said. 'But I'll do it.'

  The Doctor grinned and slapped his shoulder. 'Good lad. I'll give you a bunk-up.' He lifted Freddie easily to the window ledge. 'Once inside, see if you can open the door. If not, then go and help Rose. Try to slow down Wyse.'

  'What will you do? If I can't get you in?'

  'Don't worry. I have a plan. But it will take time.'

  It was a tight squeeze. Freddie reached his arms in ahead of him, scrunched himself up as tight and small as he could. He could feel the stone sill hard and cold under him. He could feel the ragged remains of the mesh cover tearing at his clothes, and hoped and prayed he would not get stuck half in and half out.

  The Doctor held on to his feet, to save him from falling through the window on to the hard stone stairs inside. It was a drop of perhaps four feet. If he wasn't careful, he would roll and tumble down to the bottom of the tower.

  Finally, the Doctor was forced to let go. Freddie's hands were stretched out, but still a foot away from the step below. He fell forwards, his hands smacking into the stone. But he managed to hold on, to save himself from plunging onwards. He felt the remains of the mesh whip at his lower leg as it pulled through the window. His feet slithered down the wall behind.

  Freddie sat on the stairs, getting his breath back, scarcely able to believe that he was inside the tower, safe and alive. He rubbed his palms togeth
er, inspected them to make sure he hadn't broken the skin, hadn't bruised.

  'All right?' the Doctor hissed through the window above him.

  'Yes, I think so,' he whispered back. Then he started down the stairs, carefully at first. But then faster and faster as he felt more confident and excited. He was a hero, he was saving Rose and his parents and everyone.

  But the feeling did not last. There was no key in the lock of the door. The bolts were firm and he couldn't move them, though he pushed and heaved until he was worn out and had indentations in his sore hands. The Doctor, Repple and Melissa were watching through the glass of the door. One of the Mechanicals had taken a huge swipe at it, but not even made a mark. Freddie had ducked, but the glass was so tough and strong he had not even heard the impact of the blow.

  Eventually he gave up. The Doctor had shrugged at him in an exaggerated manner, and smiled, and disappeared from sight. Melissa had also gone. Only Repple was left. He nodded slowly, and pointed upwards. The meaning was clear, and Freddie began the long, tiring journey up the stairs to find Rose.

  He was almost back at the window where he had climbed in when he noticed the first spots of blood, glistening red on the pale stone of the stairs. He felt himself go cold, his legs go numb. For several moments he just stared at the thin, scarlet drops that peppered the wall under the window. Then he reached down, without looking, and found at once the tear in his trousers where the mesh had ripped the cloth and scratched his leg.

  'Just a scratch,' he said to himself. 'It's not bleeding much. I can save Rose.' He swallowed, but the lump remained in his throat. He blinked, but his vision was still blurred by tears. 'I could be a hero,' he thought, and he stumbled up the stairs, the blood pounding in his ears.

  Sitting cross-legged on the ground, the Doctor examined the cat. Lying close beside him was a policeman. It had taken the Doctor a few moments to check that the man was merely unconscious and that the Mechanical that had hit him had not been overzealous. Now the man was snoring loudly, and distracting the Doctor as he worked.

  'If I can get this sorted, it can cut through the door for us with its laser eyes.'

  'You don't need to fix the whole cat,' Repple pointed out.

  'Trouble is I don't know which bit does what. So it's rather hit and miss.' He pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his jacket and aimed it at a collection of cogs he held carefully in place with the other hand. 'Bit of soldering. . .' Nothing happened, and the Doctor sighed.

  Melissa was standing close by, watching through her mask. She stepped closer, holding out her hand. 'Is this what you need?'

  The Doctor took the power pack with a grateful grunt. 'Ta.' He popped open the end of the sonic screwdriver and pushed the cylindrical power pack inside before snapping it closed again.

  The device whirred, thin trails of smoke rose like mist from the inside of the cat. It flinched visibly, then was still again. The Doctor finished his work and inspected it carefully. 'Might be enough.'

  'And if not?' Repple asked.

  'I'd need more components for a proper job. You know an all-night watchmaker's?' He tugged the fur round the cat's metal-frame body, then he got to his feet, holding the cat out in front of him. 'Come on, kitty-kitty.' Nothing. He shook the cat. 'You know what we need to do, don't you, puss?' Still nothing. He shook it again, and the cat gave a weak, desultory meow. Its head lifted a fraction, its eyes gleamed slightly. Then with a whirr and a clunk, the head fell forwards again.

  'What components do you need, Doctor?' Melissa asked in the quiet that followed.

  'You do know a watchmaker?'

  'No. But we do have a ready supply available.'

  The Doctor looked at her blank face. Then he looked at Repple.

  'You expect me to die for you?' There was the faintest tremor in his voice. 'I don't know if I can, Doctor.'

  Melissa laughed. 'I expect nothing.' She raised her hand, beckoning. And one of the Mechanicals stepped out of the gloom. It stopped in front of the Doctor. Slowly and deliberately, it raised one gauntleted hand and slid open the visor that covered its head. To reveal the cogs and gears and mechanisms inside.

  'Even machines need something to die for,' Melissa said.

  Freddie could hear the faint voice echoing down the stairwell. He held tight to the metal railing on the inside of the stairs. He wished he had his crutch. His legs ached so very much, but he knew he had to keep going. Once he looked down the hole in the middle of the square, and shuddered at the height he had climbed. But he kept going. The voice was getting louder, closer, as he climbed the stairs.

  It was a man's voice. Calm and reasonable and under other circumstances Freddie would have thought it friendly. It was coming from an open door on the next level. He slowed, trying to catch his breath, afraid the man – Wyse – would hear his heart beating.

  'I was intending to wait for midnight,' Wyse was saying. 'It seemed suitably melodramatic. But I imagine the Doctor will be looking for us by now, so we shall have to settle for ten o'clock, which is such a pity.'

  'Big shame.'

  'Don't be too upset. That's the only reason you're still alive.'

  'Star billing in a hostage drama,' she said. 'Oh, great.'

  Freddie could hear Rose clearly. It sounded as if she was just inside the room. He crept up to the door, tiptoeing, ignoring the drip of blood from his leg. The bottom half of his trouser leg was sopping. 'It's just a scratch,' he told himself. He edged closer, and risked a quick look into the room.

  Rose was standing just inside. Wyse was beside her and together they were looking at the enormous clockwork mechanism that filled the room. The immensity of it almost made Freddie gasp in awe. For a moment, he forgot his injured leg.

  Perhaps it was the movement, or perhaps it was an instinct. Whatever it was. Rose turned, just in time to see Freddie standing in the doorway. Wyse also started to turn, and he ducked out of sight quickly. But in that instant, he had been rewarded with Rose's smile, her realisation that she was not alone. It made everything worth it. Freddie braced himself, wondering what to do now.

  The cat's eyes glowed and twin beams of light shot out from them, focusing on the area round the lock of the door. The light ate into the woodwork with a screech of power.

  After a few moments, the lock like the bolts before it fell away and the door swung open the smallest fraction. The Doctor dropped the cat to the ground and kicked the door open fully. It crashed back into the wall behind. The Doctor was already through and running, followed by Repple and Melissa.

  The Mechanical paused in the doorway. It turned stiffly to look back at the inert remains of its fellow – face plate open and mechanisms hanging out. Cogs and wheels and tiny bolts were spilled across the flagstones beside the unconscious policeman.

  Then the Mechanical turned and followed its mistress into the clock tower.

  By which time the cat was gone.

  As he waited, listening to Wyse talking about things he did not understand – about ionisation and ozone and potential energy and space – Freddie leaned against the stone wall. His mind swam, the effort of the climb catching up with him perhaps. He shook his head to clear it, and caught Wyse's words from inside the room.

  'Sadly, I need to prime the clock itself in order to set this rather impressive mechanism in motion and begin the process.' The voice seemed closer now. 'And the clock is above us. If you would care to lead the way?'

  Rose emerged from the room first. She glanced at Freddie as he pressed himself back against the wall, then turned quickly away and started slowly up the next flight of steps.

  Wyse followed. He paused in the doorway. Freddie held his breath. But Wyse was already turning to follow Rose. Freddie would have to move quickly. He would have to get into the room and out of sight before Wyse turned the corner of the stair and saw him. Freddie braced himself.

  As he stepped out of the room, Wyse slipped. Only slightly, one foot sliding forwards a few inches on the stone floor. Enough to make him look down.
Look down and see the trail of fresh blood that his foot had smeared across the threshold. He frowned, started to turn towards Freddie.

  At the same moment, a noise echoed up the tower. A sudden powerful screech followed by a sizzling like hot metal plunged into cold water. Then the bang of the door at the bottom of the stairs as it crashed open.

  Freddie was staring right at Wyse. He saw the man's face crease into a frown, then surprise, then anger. 'The cat?' he murmured.

  It was now or never. 'Rose!' Freddie shouted.

  Already she was running back down the steps, already she was pushing Wyse away, into the room behind him. She grabbed Freddie's hand and they started down the staircase.

  Then she shrieked – surprise and fear rolled into one sound.

  Wyse had hold of her hair – had grabbed it as she rushed past, and was dragging her back.

  'Run!' she hissed at Freddie, eyes wet with tears of pain.

  But he held on to her hand, shaking her head. "I can't.' His voice was almost a sob.

  Wyse dragged her back, then thrust her ahead of him up the stairs. He reached down and grabbed Freddie by the shoulder and shoved him after Rose. 'Quickly,' he urged. He pulled a small revolver from inside his jacket, and jabbed it at them. 'Hurry, or there'll be more blood on the stairs.'

  'The Doctor will stop you,' Rose said, her tone oozing confidence.

  But Wyse laughed. 'Once I start the mechanism, nothing can stop it. Besides. . .' He paused to shove them into another room. 'I now have two hostages.'

  The centre of the clock room was dominated by the clock itself. Wyse was right, it was hardly bigger than a dinner table – a flat ironwork bed on which the heavy metal mechanism was laid out. Levers and wheels led up to huge rods that reached out and through the walls – to turn the hands of the four clock faces outside. The heavy persistent tick of the mechanism echoed round the room.

  Freddie slumped in a corner away from the clock. Rose was beside him. Wyse was at the clock, clicking a lever into place and smiling. From somewhere far below came a heavy grinding sound.

  And then the Doctor was standing in the doorway. His face dark, his eyes cold. 'Let them go.'