by Doctor Who
THIRTEEN
Carmine light drenched the malls. Long shadows stretched over the wall and floor. The hot, sticky smell of plastic was everywhere.
They filled the aisles. The silent shop-window dummies.
The chattering, chuckling dolls, scurrying around their feet like eager pink puppies.
In Europa Plaza, or what remained of it, the central, glass lift shaft lay in pieces on the marble floor. Green light streamed from it, and the new, renewed physical form of the Nestene Consciousness stepped forth.
It was a form that bore a resemblance to a human female - to Elizabeth Devonshire, no less. Her brown hair, now loose, streamed out behind her as if in a strong wind, and her eyes, now devoid of their spectacles, glowed with an intense green, the same greenish hue which suffused her glistening skin. Her suit had transformed itself into reddish-gold, shiny
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like a fleshy, living plastic, merging with her arms and legs.
She stepped forward, booted feet making a soft, slurping, squelching noise on the floor, as if the boots themselves were alive. And she smiled, the same broad, tight clownish smile with which Miss Devonshire had charmed her adversaries and her associates alike - but there was something cold about it now. Something plastic.
She spread her arms out wide, and her fingers snaked, grew, expanded, uncoiling themselves like greenish-pink tendrils, coiling up towards the vaulted roof and the higher levels and the Oculators, punching holes in the fabric of Hyperville and fusing with its being.
After a moment, Paul Kendrick stepped forward from the crowd of Autons. He tilted his head to one side as he surveyed the human face before him.
'What are you?' he said.
'We are the Nestene Consciousness. We have new form.'
'But I sense... another.'
The human woman, Miss Devonshire, has given herself up to us. She has been with us for thirty years. She has always been with us, and now she is one of us.'
Miss Devonshire's green eyes flicked upwards.
'Behold the final movement in our symphony,' she said.
Sir Gerry Hobbes-Mayhew was not having a good day.
He liked to think of himself as a successful man. Tough but fair, respected in his industry. After a chain of sports clubs and a media empire, Hyperville had been his big project, his dream - somewhere to entertain the entire family under one roof.
Somewhere for an hour, a morning, a day, even a week's 212
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holiday. People had laughed when he suggested the latter, and yet the pair of four-star hotels in the complex always found themselves with healthy bookings.
They'd suffered a bit in the global recession, but nothing like as much as people had said they would. Hyperville had gone from strength to strength. And it seemed - with Miss Devonshire and Max Carson on board and the new Plastinol-2 range scaled out through the complex, so incredibly cheap and amazingly versatile - that nothing could go wrong. Nothing at all.
He'd never expected to find himself clinging on for dear life to the Hyperville Train, behind a grinning, wild-haired madman in a brown suit, accompanied by one of the Sharpshooter Twins from Wild West World, as the train swerved and juddered through the tunnels on its way to goodness only knew where.
'Where are we going, Doctor?' Sir Gerry shouted, as the tunnels hurtled past. He was starting to wish he had consulted the interactive Hyperville plans a little more closely.
Buffeted by the airflow, the Doctor consulted the compass-like device in his hand. 'Level Zero!' he yelled.
'But maybe not by the quickest route!'
The train lurched, heading round a sharp corner towards what looked like a dead end.
'Doctor!' Sir Gerry's stomach plummeted and he couldn't bear to look. 'The doors!'
'What?'
The doors, you daft pillock!'
'Oh! Yes, right!' The Doctor activated his sonic screwdriver just in time, and what looked like a dark, solid brick wall in front of them blossomed open, allowing the train to hurtle
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forwards into the glass-covered Atrium. Like the rest of Hyperville, the Atrium was bathed in the ruddy glow of the emergency lighting - which made it seem a sinister, shadowy place, and not the welcoming, bright space of before.
The train burst out into the vast space.
And slowed.
Sir Gerry looked upwards into the vast glass dome.
It was flecked with black shapes, he saw. Bats? No... He suddenly realised what they were, and it chilled his blood.
Green, cackling faces set rigidly, cloaks streaming out behind them, gnarled plastic hands gripping plastic broomsticks, the witches circled and swooped.
The Doctor jerked the train to a standstill and scrambled back through the carriages. He adjusted a setting on his sonic screwdriver. Time for Joe to come to our rescue...' he murmured.
And at that instant, the Sharpshooter sat bolt upright, and jammed his pistol into Sir Gerry's back.
Kate stared up into the gaping, dark concrete lift shaft. She made sure the backpack was firmly attached to her and turned to Chantelle.
'Right. Plan B.'
Chantelle and Reece held up their containers of hairspray and nodded.
'Can't you just take the stairs?' Reece asked, staring in dismay into the emptiness of the shaft.
'You heard what the Doctor said,' Kate murmured grimly. The Autons will have the stairs covered. And with the lifts deactivated, there's not much choice if we want to get to the highest point of the water system.' She nodded to Chantelle.
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'Your phone's with the Doctor?'
Chantelle nodded.
'As soon as I send the signal,' Kate reminded her, 'the sprinkler-system will kick in. That's if the Doctor's jiggery-pokery has all worked right.' She pulled a face.
'Let's hope it has.'
I’ll come with you,' said Shaneeqi.
Kate looked doubtful. The Doctor told me to do this bit alone. It needs three of you to guard the access-ways, make sure the Autons don't get up here.'
Tm coming with you,' said Shaneeqi, sounding resolute.
And she swung herself into the darkness, hand over hand, slim body rippling under her tight T-shirt and leather trousers. She glared down at Kate. 'Well?'
Kate sighed. She swung herself into the lift shaft. It was cold, eerie and smelled of metal and oil. 'Whatever happens,' she said to Reece and Chantelle, 'hold them back.'
The teenagers nodded.
'Wait!'
The Doctor stood up as the train slowed. He held his hand up to the witches, like a policeman trying to stop traffic. Sir Gerry looked worriedly from the Doctor to the Autons, worrying that he had gone too far again.
The phalanx of witches hovered above the train, eyes glowing.
'Gas-jet levitation,' said the Doctor to Sir Gerry. 'One of Miss Devonshire's little tricks, I believe?'
Sir Gerry looked shamefaced. 'I deal with facts and figures, Doctor. I'm a plain feller. Not that much into the newfangled stuff. Afraid I've always tended to leave the technical gizmos
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to Miss Devonshire and Carson.' He shuddered. 'Poor Max.'
As one, their heads turned to face the Doctor and their eyes glowed green.
'We come as prisoners,' said the Doctor. 'Look.' And he nodded to the Sharpshooter.
The cowboy, the one which the Doctor had referred to as Joe Auton and which had been inert for the entire journey, was now sitting bolt upright, pointing its gun at them. Its waxy, pale face held the hint of a sneer.
There was a crackle, as if the witches were receiving instructions in the ether.
The Doctor gave Sir Gerry a quick wink.
'OK, then?' he said with a nonchalant smile.
The witches spoke as one. 'You will come with us.'
'Oh, yes. Absolutely. We're right there.' The Doctor grinned.
'Wouldn't want to let you ladies down.'
Kate was beginning to wonder how on Earth she'd got into this.
'I'm telling you,' she gasped down to Shaneeqi, as she hauled herself up the metal maintenance ladder, hand-over-hand, 'if Sir Gerry doesn't give me a job after this, he never will. I mean, I know I came here to expose the secrets of Hyperville, but I think that one's pretty much out in the open.' She paused for a rest. 'You OK down there, Shaneeqi?'
'Fine.' The girl's voice was dull, emotionless.
Kate caught her breath. 'You know, Shan... Can I call you Shan? I feel like I know you. I've bought all your downloads, after all. It must be great just to... know what you're going to do in life and just... do it. Don't you think?'
'Uh-huh.'
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'I mean... the Doctor, look at him. I don't know who he is, where he comes from. I don't think he's even... well, I don't think he's even human. But he seems to know his purpose in life. Seems to know the point of it all.' She glanced down.
'Am I getting too philosophical for you, Shan?'
Shaneeqi smiled weakly. 'Possibly.'
'Sorry.'
'Did you... you know, always want to do... what you do?'
She frowned. 'I can't remember.'
'What do you mean?' asked Kate.
'I mean I can't remember." She looked up at Kate with panic in her eyes.
'But you started out singing in clubs, right? Then you were discovered. I was reading about it on your website.'
'It's all invented,' Shaneeqi said softly.
Kate grinned. 'Marketing hype, yeah? Oh, well.' She began to haul herself up the ladder again. 'Come on. Let's do this.'
Deep down in the lift shaft, there was a clunk and a whirr. It reverberated through the entire shaft, and Kate felt it in her hands. Feeling as if her stomach had turned to liquid, she tried to turn round and look. 'What was that?'
Shaneeqi was looking down into the shaft. Slowly, she turned her face upwards to look at Kate.
The lift,' she said. 'It's coming.'
There was another clunk from the shaft above them.
Like the sound of some great animal in pain, the gears screamed, and then Kate could see the cables beginning to move.
For a moment she panicked. Then she told herself it was pointless, that she had to do something. She had to focus.
'Climb,' she snapped to Shaneeqi. 'We've got to climb!'
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Accompanied by the witches, the Doctor and Sir Gerry ascended the escalator to the shattered ruins of Europa Plaza. Behind them, the Sharpshooter kept his pistol trained on them.
Inside the Doctor's pocket was Chantelle's mobile phone, set to vibrate. He was waiting for a signal from Kate.
Long shadows fell across the Plaza. Autons. Hundreds of them, all lined up and ready, eyes gently glowing pinkish-red. And the dolls, more jittery but still ready.
'Playtime!' said the Doctor cheerfully.
'Doctor,' said the reverberating, gurgling voice which was part Elizabeth Devonshire, part alien. 'How pleasant to see you again.'
'Miss Devonshire. If I can call you that. Is that your real name?' The Doctor became aware of the silence that had fallen. 'Sorry. I expect you want to speak.'
She took a deep, juddering breath. The Hyperville experiment has been a success,' she said. 'In precisely seven minutes, the Cluster will be within transmission range of Earth.'
Ah. Right.' The Doctor tried to look nonchalant.
The Cluster?" Sir Gerry looked worried.
'Shower of meteorites. Well, that's what it'll look like. If Jodrell Bank are interested at all. Doubt anybody will shoot them down.'
'And what are they really?' Sir Gerry asked nervously.
A Nestene swarm. Spherical pods. Seeds, if you like.
Each ready to bounce its signal off the Consciousness, and tune into the plastic-based environments like this around the world. Am I right, Miss Devonshire?'
'You are correct, Doctor.'
'In about...' The Doctor checked his watch. 'Six minutes?'
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Miss Devonshire smiled. 'Correct, Doctor.'
The Doctor stepped forward. There's still time to stop.'
"The Nestene Consciousness does not stop.'
'Listen to me. You, Miss Devonshire. Because, you know what? There is a little corner of the Nestene Consciousness which is forever Elizabeth Devonshire. I can hear it. I'm asking you not to do this.'
There is no choice, Doctor. It is done.'
The Doctor took a step backwards. He looked into the bright green eyes of the Consciousness, as if weighing up the truth of the words.
Then I'm sorry,' said the Doctor. 'I really am." He glanced at Sir Gerry. 'Now!' he yelled.
The Doctor and Sir Gerry dropped to the ground.
The Sharpshooter raised its pistol in both hands.
And fired.
The lift was thundering upwards, the rumbling getting louder and louder. Kate knew they were not going to make it. Hand over hand, she climbed as if trapped in some terrible dream.
The lift growled on upwards. Kate could see the forbidding, black square of its roof, cutting out the light below.
'Hang on!' Shaneeqi said. She looked across the shaft at Kate. 'Jump!'
Kate knew it would buy them vital seconds. She and Shaneeqi stared at each other across the shaft, and Kate nodded, and then, in unison, they sprang from the ladder and landed like cats on the juddering roof of the lift. Pain crashed through Kate's knee, but she winced and tried to ignore it.
Kate looked up.
The top of the shaft was getting closer and closer. She 219
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estimated that they had maybe thirty seconds before the lift reached the top and crushed them. It was not going to be a pleasant way to die.
That didn't do us much good,' she said softly to Shaneeqi.
Kate glanced up. The young star was standing, stretching herself up to her full height.
'What are you doing?' Kate gasped.
'What I was made for,' Shaneeqi answered.
And when Kate looked into her eyes, she saw the faintest hint of a pinkish glow.
'Oh, no,' she breathed.
The flicker of a smile spread across Shaneeqi's face.
'I want to say I'm sorry,' she said. 'But I can't.'
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The Sharpshooter fired at Miss Devonshire - not the fake _ bullets from the Wild West World, but a sizzling bolt of blood-red Nestene energy.
Miss Devonshire's hand came up, moving as fast as an expert tennis player. The beam bounced off, reflecting back at the Sharpshooter, and impacting with its head. Its cowboy hat was blown off in smoking tatters, and the top of its head smashed like an eggshell, the fragments scattering across the Plaza, popping and fizzing.
The Doctor and Sir Gerry slowly lifted their heads, looking at the gashed shell of the Sharpshooter's head, which was belching noxious black smoke like a miniature volcano.
'Any further tricks, Doctor? asked Miss Devonshire. 'I thought not. Hold them.'
Two of the Auton catering-staff stepped forward, grabbing the Doctor and Sir Gerry and pinning their arms behind their
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backs. Beside Miss Devonshire, Beta-4 jumped up and down, chuckling and gurgling.
'Four minutes,' said Miss Devonshire.
High above the planet, the group of pulsing spheres began to move a little wider apart. Their glow became a deeper purple, more intense.
They hovered above the cratered surface of Earth's moon, facing the beautiful blue planet on the horizon.
The Cluster was ready.
In the Plaza, the Doctor pulled a puzzled face. 'How are you going to do it, exactly? I mean, your previous attempts at invasion didn't go brilliantly, did they?'
'The last attempts were strong but not strategic. This one is coord
inated.'
'Humans are good, you know. They make stuff. They're resourceful. They know what they're doing.' The Doctor nodded at Sir Gerry. Take this chap, for example. Sir Gerry Hobbes-Mayhew. Plain old Gerry Mayhew when he was at school. Decent pupil, nothing outstanding. But now he owns businesses worth millions. Creates jobs for thousands of people in depressed areas. Gives loads to charity and doesn't shout about it.'
Sir Gerry looked nervous.
'All on Wikipedia, Sir Gerry,' whispered the Doctor.
'Humans are imperfect. They are flawed.'
'Ohhhh, yes! They're flawed! That's the beauty of them.'
The Doctor looked defiant. 'Last time, they defended themselves. Some of them did pretty well. So what are you doing? How are you going to subjugate an entire population?'
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Miss Devonshire laughed. 'You have the evidence in your pocket, Doctor.'
The Doctor frowned. 'Really?'
'Each and every shopper here - and there are millions of them - has a HyperCard. The HyperCard is made of Plastinol-2. It is designed to attach itself to the cells of the human skin - leaving an imperceptible trace. When the signal comes, Doctor, the Plastinol cells will grow, increase, multiply. The Plastinol will spread across each human being who has shopped here. Just like that poor journalist. Oh, but you never saw her! It was truly beautiful.'
'Horrible,' said the Doctor coldly.
'You may think so, Doctor. But you are a fool.'
The Doctor pulled a face. 'You think I'm a fool? You're the one who fell for the old Wookie Prisoner Trick.'
Miss Devonshire's eyes blazed.
Two minutes, Doctor.'
It seemed to be getting faster and louder as they reached the top. Kate could smell heat and oil and hot metal in her nostrils.
She was sure, crouched there on the juddering lift roof, that she was going to be sick.
And then Shaneeqi reached her right hand upwards, palm flat, and slammed it against the side of the lift shaft.
Gears ground. Metal screeched. The lift throbbed and vibrated. Kate could hear the mechanism screeching and grinding. She looked up in astonishment at the cables, which were holding steady. Shaneeqi lowered her eyes at Kate, and then Kate saw her left hand struggling to raise itself.
