Doctor Who: Plague of the Cybermen

by Justin Richards

  ‘The church – is there a priest to go with it?’

  Olga shook her head. ‘Not any more. Not for years and years. We all make peace with God in our own way. At Easter and Christmas most of us make the journey to Malkeburg. And if there’s a burial … Well, Old Nicolai says a few words. Something appropriate.’

  ‘He’d be good at that,’ the Doctor said.

  Ivan opened the door to them. He looked tired, and so pale his features were almost grey. Olga had already told the Doctor that the man seemed to be pining away in sympathy for his wife.

  Magda was confined to bed. Too weak even to speak more than a few words. Her grey, emaciated hands lay on the folded-back sheets. She wore a high-collared nightgown, its white lace contrasting with her grey skin.

  ‘The discoloration …?’ the Doctor said quietly.

  ‘It’s the first sign.’ Olga glanced at Magda’s husband standing behind them, leaning against the doorframe for support. ‘The skin gets darker as the disease spreads. They just get weaker and weaker then, until …’

  The Doctor nodded slowly. He held one of Magda’s hands, gently stroking it, murmuring quietly to her. The woman’s face seemed to relax at his words. There was even the hint of a smile. Olga wondered what he had said.

  In a few moments, Magda was sleeping peacefully. Ivan left them to it, shuffling out of the room. Once he was gone, the Doctor took his metal wand from his pocket. One end glowed as he swept it over the woman’s body. He frowned.

  ‘Sonic screwdriver,’ he said, as if that explained it. ‘Just need to change a few settings.’

  This time, the wand clicked as he moved it. Just a few clicks at first, then, as the Doctor brought it closer to Magda, the clicking increased in speed and got louder. It was loudest and fastest over her chest. The Doctor put the wand away, and gently pulled back the covers.

  ‘What is that?’ he demanded.

  Olga leaned over to see. ‘It’s her Talisman.’

  The Doctor reached out for it, but drew back before his fingers reached the Talisman. It hung round Magda’s neck on a thin silver chain. The Talisman was circular, made of metal so bright it almost glowed. The surface was pitted and marked. In the centre was engraved a symbol, a circle with sections marked like the way you might cut a cake.

  ‘Talisman? Where did she get it, do you know?’

  ‘From Vadim.’

  ‘I thought he was the physician.’

  ‘Vadim’s wife made them. He found the Talisman and his wife Nefta worked it into jewellery. In this case, a necklace.’

  The Doctor’s mouth dropped open. ‘In this case? You mean there are others?’

  ‘Oh yes. Vadim found many of these metal pieces.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Near the churchyard.’

  ‘And his wife made them into jewellery.’

  ‘She asked a fair price. She said they would bring good luck. Wealth and … love.’

  The Doctor reached out and took Olga’s hands. He pulled her gently closer to him. If anyone else had done that she’d have been embarrassed and annoyed. But it seemed natural and friendly.

  ‘Do you have a Talisman?’ he asked, and his voice was low and urgent.

  ‘No. I don’t … That is, I never …’

  ‘You’re not vain. Very wise.’

  ‘It’s not vanity. It’s just, I have no one to impress.’ She blinked. She shouldn’t have said that. Why did she say that?

  ‘Oh, that’s true,’ the Doctor said, and his words felt like a punch.

  Olga pulled her hands free of him.

  ‘You don’t need to impress them with Talismans. Talismen. Talismans … Whatever. You don’t need to impress them because Klaus and Nicolai and the others are already in awe of you.’

  He turned away, so he probably didn’t see her surprise.

  ‘You must be one hell of a teacher. The other plague victims,’ he went on before she could comment on that, ‘did they all have a Talisman?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She tried to think. ‘Probably. I think so.’

  ‘Vadim is dead, but his wife …’ The Doctor sighed loudly and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. ‘She’s dead too, of course. Probably died before Vadim.’

  ‘Yes, but how did you know?’

  ‘Because this isn’t plague, it’s … How to explain?’ The Doctor was pacing up and down. He paused beside the bed, reached down and took hold of the Talisman round Magda’s neck. He looked at it for a moment, holding it carefully and gently. Then he yanked hard, breaking the chain.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘You got a lead-lined box?’ the Doctor demanded.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Or a toffee tin? No?’ He rummaged through his pockets, finding a bag made of a strange yellow shiny material. He put the Talisman inside. ‘It’ll do for now. But I’d better get it back to … Actually,’ he decided, ‘we need to find every Talisman and get them all back to … Back to where I’m staying.’

  ‘Where are you staying?’ Olga wondered.

  ‘Guest house.’

  ‘We don’t have a guest house.’

  ‘That’s all right. I brought my own. This isn’t plague,’ he added quietly. ‘It’s poison.’

  ‘Can you cure it?’

  ‘No. It’s Hapthoid Radiation Sickness. This “Talisman” as you call it is the main locking bolt for the access panel of a Hapthoid reactor unit. There is no cure. But I can stop anyone else getting it.’

  Olga looked at Magda. She seemed so peaceful, so calm. ‘And what about Magda?’

  The Doctor put his hand on her shoulder, following Olga’s gaze. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘She died while we were talking.’

  Chapter 2

  The school was a single room – in fact, it was also Olga’s living room. There were six children in the village, but Hans rarely came to school. The Doctor had liked Olga’s suggestion that the children could help gather up the poisoned jewellery.

  ‘Just so long as they don’t touch it.’ He had a stack of the shiny yellow bags to hand out. ‘Proximity is only lethal over a prolonged period of time, but direct contact could be a problem. Best take no chances.’

  Olga pointed out that one of the children already had her own Talisman. Jedka was wearing a bracelet of the shiny metal. She was reluctant to part with it until the Doctor crouched down at her level.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he assured her. ‘I speak 7-year-old like a native. And so I know you’ll understand when I tell you how important it is that you put your bracelet in this bag.’

  ‘You just want my bracelet.’

  ‘No, I just want you not to get sick. You are one of the very most important people here in the village and you are in fact the very first person I want not to get sick – by being the very first and most important person to put their Talisman in a special bag.’

  Jedka bit her lower lip and said nothing.

  ‘Everyone is watching,’ the Doctor went on. ‘All your friends are here to see you start this off. You, Jedka, you are the person who will show the grown-ups what they need to do.’

  ‘It’s called setting an example,’ Olga added.

  ‘Like when Heini had to be good and set an example?’

  ‘That’s right. Except, I know you can do it.’

  One of the boys shifted uncomfortably and muttered what might have been an apology.

  Jedka nodded, and slipped off her bracelet. There was a grey mark where it had been. Olga looked at the Doctor – were they in time? He smiled and nodded and patted Jedka on the head.

  It wasn’t as easy with all the villagers. Some were unwilling to part with what they saw as precious and luck-bringing items of jewellery. But most, encouraged by Olga and Klaus, were happy to be rid of what could be causing them illness and pain, or might in the near future.

  ‘The levels of irradiation vary a lot,’ the Doctor said as the children set off round the village to gather pieces of jewellery. Olga didn’t know
what he meant. ‘That’s why the symptoms emerge over different timescales. Some of it is almost safe. But “almost” isn’t good enough.’

  Heini came to find them as they left Gustav collecting up jewellery from the people in the tavern at lunchtime.

  ‘Lagis won’t give Jedka her brooch.’

  ‘She can be quite strong-willed,’ Olga warned the Doctor. ‘She suspects everyone is out for themselves.’

  ‘Judges them according to her own standards, perhaps?’

  Lagis stood in her yard, arms folded, a basket of washing waiting to be hung out – even though it was spotting with rain and the clouds still loomed menacingly.

  In front of her, Jedka was holding out her yellow bag. She shook it. ‘You have to give me the brooch. The Doctor says so.’

  ‘And how do I know he doesn’t just want it for himself?’ Lagis demanded.

  Olga had the feeling this exchange had been repeated several times already.

  Jedka sighed. ‘He just wants you not to get sick.’

  ‘That’s right,’ the Doctor said. He grinned like it was the biggest joke ever. ‘But if you want to keep your brooch, well that’s just fine.’

  Lagis frowned and straightened her shoulders. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yeah, no problem at all. Of course,’ he added, ‘you will get sick. Maybe not today or even this year. But one day. Very sick. And until you do, none of the other villagers will come near you. Not if you’re wearing that brooch. And when you do get ill, none of them will come to help you then either. Not if you’ve still got the brooch. Unless it’s to say “We told you so”.’ He nodded and grinned some more. ‘So, you keep it if you want. We’ll just get out of your way. Right out of your way. For good.’

  The Doctor gently pulled Jedka back, and motioned for Olga to come with them.

  ‘That grey patch of skin, under where you wear the brooch,’ the Doctor said. ‘You can see the same stain on Jedka’s wrist when she holds out that yellow bag. It’s where she wore a bracelet. But, hey – maybe Jedka knows what’s good for her. Of course the stain on her skin will shrink and fade now the bracelet’s gone. But yours will get bigger, you know. Bigger and darker …’

  As they retreated, Lagis took a step towards them. Jedka gave a little gasp of fright. Then, face set, she held out the bag again.

  Lagis tore off her brooch and dropped it in the bag.

  ‘Thank you,’ the Doctor said. ‘You won’t regret it.’

  Lagis turned back to her washing. ‘I never liked that brooch,’ she said.

  By mid afternoon, the Doctor reckoned he and his new friends had collected up all the jewellery they could find in the village.

  ‘Are you going up to the castle?’ Jedka asked.

  ‘Is there a castle? I love castles. Castles are just so cool.’

  ‘I’ve never been to the castle,’ Jedka said. ‘If you do go, can I come? I want to see the witch.’

  Olga laughed. ‘More stories,’ she told the Doctor. ‘There’s no witch, just Lord and Lady Ernhardt.’

  ‘She’s a witch,’ Jedka insisted. ‘My mum says so. Mum says Lady Ernhardt is too beautiful so she must be a witch. She says we’re all getting old and wrinkled but Lady Ernhardt has spells that keep her young.’

  ‘She’s right about us,’ Olga sighed. ‘But has your mother ever seen Lady Ernhardt?’

  Jedka wasn’t sure about that. ‘My daddy has though. He sees her every day.’

  Olga didn’t argue with that. Instead she declared that school was over for today and the children hurried off to play, or to help their parents in the fields.

  ‘I should go up to this castle,’ the Doctor said thoughtfully. ‘Check they don’t have any irradiated metal up there.’

  ‘I’ve never been inside the castle either,’ Olga said. There was a wistfulness in her tone. ‘But they wouldn’t have bought jewellery from Vadim. Well,’ she corrected herself, ‘I suppose some of the guards might. They drink in the tavern sometimes, and get meat from Drettle.’

  ‘They might have found some of the same metal …’ the Doctor said thoughtfully. ‘Depends how far it was scattered.’

  ‘The Watchman might have some,’ Olga admitted. ‘Where did it come from?’

  But the Doctor didn’t answer. In fact, he wasn’t even listening. He was staring up at the clouds. It looked like rain. But then, it always looked like rain. ‘Then there’s poor Stefan,’ he said. ‘And the Plague Warriors.’

  ‘You don’t believe in Plague Warriors, do you, Doctor?’

  ‘No, of course not. Not really. Not as such … But something killed Stefan.’

  ‘And the others,’ Olga said.

  ‘Where did you say he was found?’

  ‘In the churchyard.’

  ‘But exactly precisely where?’

  Before she could answer he spun round in a full circle, catching her by the arm to steady himself as he came round the second time.

  ‘Others? What others? You mean, Stefan wasn’t the first?’

  The Doctor sat at the same table in the corner of the tavern. Klaus and Old Nicolai sat opposite the Doctor and Olga.

  ‘There were always victims of the Plague Warriors,’ Old Nicolai said. ‘Even when I was a lad, my father told me to watch out for them. He’d lost a dog to the Plague Warriors. It turned up mutilated – ripped apart. Wolves, I thought.’

  ‘That’s more likely,’ Olga said. ‘Though the wolves seem mostly to have gone from the valley.’

  ‘You hear them at night sometimes,’ Klaus said. ‘Never see them any more, though. Just as well.’

  ‘But – other human victims?’ the Doctor prompted. ‘People. Dead people. Like Stefan.’

  Nicolai took a swig of his drink. ‘Plenty of them. But like I say, over the years.’

  ‘Last one was last summer,’ Klaus said. ‘Gregor found him out in the fields, missing an arm and a lot of blood.’

  ‘Dead?’ the Doctor asked.

  ‘Oh, he was dead all right.’

  ‘Any ideas, Doctor?’ Klaus asked.

  ‘Lots. I’m full of them. Mr Ideas, that’s me. But none of them very pleasant. I wonder …’ He stared across at the counter where Gustav was washing up tankards. ‘I wonder if he does mango juice and lime. With ice. Lots of ice. Ice is … cool.’ He frowned. ‘Kind of obvious, that – sorry.’

  There was a pause while the Doctor established that Gustav did not stock mango juice, and in fact had no idea what a mango was. Or a lime. And that if the Doctor really wanted to put ice in his drink then he was welcome to wait until winter then go and break up the frozen puddles that formed in the tavern’s backyard.

  When the Doctor returned, he explained what he wanted. Klaus looked pale, and drained his own drink in one gulp.

  ‘I’ve spent all morning digging a grave for Magda. Won’t be long before her husband needs one too.’

  ‘Prolonged exposure in close proximity,’ the Doctor murmured. Louder, he said: ‘So digging up just one more grave should be easy then. It’s been dug before, so the earth will be loosely packed. Easy. Piece of cake. Not actual eat-it cake, obviously. But, you know.’

  ‘Just so you can see where we found Stefan, lying at the bottom of a pit he’d dug for Liza Clemp’s body, God rest her soul.’

  ‘And this Liza woman,’ the Doctor said, ‘she died of the plague too?’

  ‘The poison,’ Olga corrected him.

  ‘The poison. Exactamundo.’ The Doctor’s face crumpled. ‘Sorry – forget I ever said that.’

  ‘What about Liza?’ Nicolai asked.

  ‘While we’re digging up her grave, I might as well take a look at her body. Second opinion, sort of thing.’

  ‘She died of plague,’ Klaus said. ‘Poison. Whatever.’

  The Doctor nodded. ‘Best to be sure, though, eh?’ He finished his drink. ‘Count her limbs, just to be on the safe side. Make sure they’re all present and correct. Dead, obviously, but present and correct. Right, I’m all set. You got your shovel?’

>   The Doctor was right. It was easier excavating the recently dug earth. Klaus made quick progress. When he got tired and took a break, the Doctor removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, stretched his braces, spat on his hands, and took over.

  ‘It’s like sandcastles,’ he declared, throwing another shovel-load of earth onto the growing pile beside the grave. ‘Only more morbid.’

  Klaus took over again, and finally his shovel hit wood. He scraped the soil away from the top of the coffin.

  ‘We’ve been keeping Erik busy, if nothing else,’ Olga said. ‘He’s the undertaker.’

  The Doctor nodded. ‘And they say it’s a dying business. Sorry,’ he added in the silence that followed. ‘Was that in bad taste? Because, you know, it might have been.’

  As he spoke, there was a creak from the grave. Then a loud crack, followed by Klaus swearing.

  They peered over the edge to see Klaus standing on the coffin lid. Except that one of his feet had gone through it.

  ‘Skimps on the cabinet-making, does he?’ the Doctor asked. ‘Erik, I mean?’

  ‘We’ve got a problem,’ Klaus said, pulling his foot out. He looked as if he might be sick at any moment.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ the Doctor told him gently. ‘We’ll just get a new lid. It’s probably got a lifetime guarantee. Sorry,’ he added, ‘did it again there, didn’t I?’

  ‘It’s not that,’ Klaus said. He reached up so that the Doctor and Nicolai could pull him out of the grave. ‘The coffin’s empty.’

  ‘But we only buried her yesterday,’ Nicolai said. ‘The grave wasn’t disturbed.’

  Olga was white. ‘Walking dead.’

  ‘You said yourself, that’s just a story,’ Klaus chided.

  ‘Rapid decomposition,’ the Doctor said. ‘Is it possible? Can’t be from the radiation.’

  He jumped down into the grave, landing with both feet square on the remains of the coffin lid. It shattered beneath him, crashing through into the base.

  ‘No,’ the Doctor announced. ‘She’s definitely gone.’

  He shifted his weight, kicking aside the shattered wood. The bottom of the coffin was also broken, holes punched through the board and the slats splintered and torn apart.