Doctor Who - The Wheel of Ice

by Stephen Baxter

  They were very close now. Zoe tried not to shrink back. They were very doll-like, with their child-sized bodies and their blank, sketchy faces. But it was the way they were unlike humans that was most disturbing: no nose, black unliving eyes, mouths like slits, no lips, teeth like rows of needles. And they moved unnaturally, their arms and legs bending at unnatural angles, as if there were no bones under that blue skin.

  Now one touched her. It ran its palm over her cheek. Its hand was a kind of paddle, a flipper, with a thumb but with its fingers fused together. Its skin was smooth, neither warm nor cold. Eerily damp. Zoe stayed as still as she could, flinching at every touch. Her mind was full of the images she had seen of the man in the infirmary, the inhuman blue coating on his legs, the transformation of his skin…

  The Doll faced her now, its head before her. She could see her own face reflected in its empty eyes. Its head tilted right over as it stared at Zoe, flopping loosely from one side to the other.

  Suddenly the Dolls were swarming all over her, touching her with their hands, feet, even their faces. They were like moths, insect-like, fluttering around her, huge blue moths that she longed to bat away. They were hissing. And now, before her, an open mouth, needle teeth closing on her face.

  She screamed.

  She was dragged away. It was Sinbad, waving a muscular arm to drive the creatures back, forcing a way across the chamber and hauling Zoe after him. For a heartbeat they clung to her, her arms, legs, neck, she even felt those paddle-hands wrapping themselves in her hair. But then, suddenly, they released her, and she and Sinbad ran forward.

  At the far side of the chamber they turned, backed up against the wall. The Blue Dolls hadn’t followed them. Instead they had crammed themselves into the shaft from which Zoe and Sinbad had emerged, swarming together like a grotesque multi-limbed plug.

  ‘Well,’ Zoe said, ‘we aren’t going back that way.’

  ‘Casey Laws,’ he said now.

  ‘What about Casey?’

  ‘I am her family doctor… Those faces. They remind me of Casey Laws. A sort of simplified cartoon version of her little face. That can’t be a coincidence, can it?’

  ‘I suppose not.’ Zoe glanced around. There was a shaft entrance only a few paces away, marked with another yellow arrow. ‘Look! The Doctor went this way. At least we can follow him. He must have got past these creatures too.’

  ‘Or they let him pass.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Think about it. We had that sighting a way back, that drew off Jo Laws and the others. And now we’ve been jumped by this lot, and they’ve blocked the passage.’

  ‘You mean—’

  He said firmly, ‘I mean these Blue Dolls have been stalking us. Herding us. They split us off from Jo and the others. And now they’ve trapped us. Whatever they are, human or not, biological or not, those critters are smart. Look – I don’t mean to scare you. This moon is a warren; there’s always another way out.’

  Determinedly she put aside her fear. ‘We can deal with that later. First we must find the Doctor. Come on.’ And she led the way into the latest passage.

  23

  MORE TWISTS, MORE turns, more smooth-walled human-cut corridors, more natural crevasses, chambers and flaws. This whole moon was like a piece of Swiss cheese, Zoe told herself. But she kept building up the three-dimensional map in her head. Its growing completeness pleased her, even though it was only a map of where they had been, not where they had to go. And at least, for now, there was no sign of any more of the Blue Dolls.

  They passed through another chamber, where icicle-like growths extended from the walls, like stalactites and stalagmites in a cave on Earth, but these formations pushed into the cavern from all angles…

  There was a peculiar shuddering in the air. The ground shook, like an earthquake, strong enough in the low gravity to bounce the two of them up into the air like peas rattling from a struck drumskin. Some of the icicle formations broke loose with tinkling cracks and fell slowly.

  Florian had spoken of gravitational perturbations in the core. Zoe imagined whatever lay at the heart of Mnemosyne rolling and turning, the whole of the moon shuddering in response.

  When the shock had passed she and Sinbad hurried across this chamber of icicles, followed another short human-cut shaft, and entered another large, open chamber, its walls dark, one of the largest she had seen so far…

  ‘Zoe.’

  The Doctor’s calm voice, coming out of the gloom ahead, startled her to stillness. She was about halfway across the floor of the chamber. Sinbad was a few paces behind her. Before her, in the semi-dark, there was the Doctor, his frock coat crumpled inside his transparent skinsuit, sitting calmly on a big ice boulder. On the walls a few scattered lamps gleamed, shedding a sparse light.

  But the walls were odd, and indeed the ceiling, and much of the floor. They were covered with some shining, gleaming, undulating covering.

  Shining blue, in the dim light.

  There were Blue Dolls all over this chamber, clinging to the walls, in tangled clumps on the floor. Not a mere dozen or so – hundreds. Even on the roof, clustered close together like figures painted on the ceiling of a Vatican chapel. Or they were like bats, Zoe thought uneasily, huge blue bats roosting. None of them moved.

  None save a little group straight ahead of her, between her and the Doctor. Four, five, six Dolls were squatting, almost like a group of human children intent on some game. But a seventh Doll lay on the ground between them. It was as inert as the rest, but there was some quality about it, a deeper stillness, that told Zoe it was dead – or terminally malfunctioning? She knew too little about these creatures to know what language was appropriate, the language of living things, or of machines.

  And now she smelt a sour stink, like plastic burning.

  ‘Doctor?’

  ‘It’s all right, Zoe. I don’t think we’ll come to any harm if we don’t alarm them. I’ve been here for some time, sitting on this rather cold block of ice, and they haven’t done anything to me. Why don’t you come to me? You can see the way I walked around that central group – that’s it, off to the left. You too, Dr Omar. I really don’t think there’s any need to be afraid.’

  Zoe stepped forward, taking each stride slowly and deliberately, making sure she didn’t stand on any of the prone bodies around her feet. As she approached that central group the stink of burning intensified. ‘I take it this is the one Sonia shot with her blaster.’

  ‘I’m afraid so—’

  There was a rustling, all around them. Zoe stood still. She glimpsed movement, above, below, to left and right. Limbs squirming like snakes on the walls and roof. A hundred blue bodies, all apparently identical, shifting and wriggling as one, without a word being said. It was eerie, utterly inhuman. It stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

  Zoe saw there was still a clear path, still a way for her to reach the Doctor, and she hurried that way. He held out his hands, and she grabbed them with great relief, and let him pull her to his side.

  But Sinbad didn’t follow.

  ‘I’m stuck, I’m afraid.’ He stood on a bare patch of floor, surrounded by a sea of Blue Doll bodies that had closed around him.

  ‘I’m sure you’re perfectly safe,’ the Doctor said, his voice glacially calm.

  ‘I could probably just jump out of here—’

  ‘Perhaps later, when we need to resort to such measures. We are here to observe these creatures, remember.’

  ‘All right.’ Carefully, slowly, making no sudden moves, Sinbad sat down, cross-legged.

  ‘Doctor,’ Zoe scolded, ‘you shouldn’t have run off like that.’

  ‘Well, I knew you’d follow,’ the Doctor said blandly. ‘And I did leave you messages. The signs in chalk.’

  ‘Yes, we saw those.’

  ‘We did shoot this poor creature, you know, Zoe. I don’t particularly blame Sonia Paley – I suppose it was a natural reaction. Especially given the whole environment of control and conf
rontation Florian Hart has carefully built up. I followed the one we wounded. It didn’t get far, but then others came to carry it away; I saw them and followed, as best I could. I would swear one of them was more dominant – a leader. There have been reports of that sort of behaviour, I believe. Then they came to this place, this chamber, and – well, you can see for yourself.’

  ‘It died.’

  ‘I’m afraid so. Another little burden for the conscience of humanity, eh? I did have a notion of retrieving the body and bringing it back for analysis. I should think some kind of autopsy would reveal a great deal – this specimen is much less damaged than the one we found in the tractor up on the Wheel.’

  ‘Well, why haven’t you?’

  ‘Because of the others. Look at them, Zoe. Just watch.’

  The half-dozen Dolls around their fallen companion sat in a ring, like children playing a statues game. But every so often one would reach out a hand, and lift a limp arm, or touch the open mouth, or shake the body. Gently, almost inquisitively.

  ‘I’ve no idea what kind of intelligence motivates these creatures. There may be some form of group mind. Or perhaps they are like puppets, controlled from somewhere else. But on an individual level, I can tell you from my own direct observation that these are no simple animals. They understand death. They are mourning their fallen comrade. And only a handful of animals on Earth do that: the chimps, the dolphins, the elephants—’

  ‘And man.’

  ‘Quite so. And that is why I haven’t taken the body, not yet. Out of respect.’

  Sinbad shivered. ‘Brr-rr. I’ll be honest, I wish I was sitting over there with you two. They may or may not be conscious, but these things do give me the shudders.’

  ‘Just sit still, Dr Omar.’ The new voice was a bold challenge, and unmistakeable.

  The Doctor looked around. ‘Florian Hart? Is that you?’

  ‘The very same. You took some finding. But you brought us straight to the nest of the monsters. Well done.’ And she raised her blaster.

  ‘No!’ the Doctor cried. ‘Not again! Don’t shoot!’

  There was a crackle of fire. Blue bodies, scorched and broken open, went flying through the air to slam into the walls.

  And the Blue Dolls moved as one. They rose up from the walls and descended from the ceiling in a hissing, slithering horde, their bodies rustling as they slid over each other. The very air was filled with them. Sinbad Omar screamed as the Blue Dolls swarmed over him, and he went down.

  ‘Your skinsuit!’ the Doctor yelled at Zoe. ‘Zip it up! Now!’

  She did as she was told, bringing down her visor just as blue bodies slammed into her. She struggled to her feet as the Dolls clambered over her, clinging like monkeys. But the Doctor grabbed her hand and, with surprising strength, dragged her across the floor towards Florian and the others. Zoe saw that the Doctor had somehow scooped up the Blue Doll corpse and had slung it over his shoulder.

  They passed Sinbad. He was struggling to his feet in a tide of Dolls, of hands and teeth that clung and pulled him back. His eyes met Zoe’s, and she reached out a hand. But his skinsuit had been ripped open, and his bare hand was already mottled blue. She reached for him even so, but the Doctor dragged her away.

  They had to dodge through a hail of blaster fire to get out of the chamber. To shouted orders from Florian, a sustained cannonade of blaster fire brought down a chunk of the cavern’s roof, sealing the Dolls inside. But this blockade wouldn’t hold for long. Already Zoe could see blue hands probing, pushing through the mounds of ice-rock rubble. The party turned and ran.

  24

  SIXTEEN CHILDREN OF the Mnemosyne Cincture fell into the dusky air of Titan, their rocket scooters flaring like matchsticks. And James Robert McCrimmon, veteran of Culloden Field, with his bagpipe in a pack on his back, followed them in.

  It had taken them a day to get this far from the Wheel, and Titan had grown from a brown pinprick to a ball like an orange hanging in the sky to this huge featureless globe below him. Another wretched moon! Jamie was no coward but this was an extraordinary experience, even by the standards of the adventures he had endured since leaving Scotland with the Doctor. He wished the Doctor were here now, and Zoe at his side, and the stout walls of the TARDIS around him, rather than being naked to space with a bunch of kids like this. But once again Sam had shut down the comms systems on their suits, and even calling the Doctor or anybody on the Wheel was impossible.

  And now his scooter shuddered, and he felt a buffeting. Attitude rockets banged, jolting him, and exhaust products squirted in thin glittering streams.

  ‘That’s normal,’ Phee Laws called. ‘The scooter’s steering itself, it knows what to do.’

  Glancing around a sky crowded with scooters, Jamie easily picked out Phee, the grey of her customised A-grade uniform visible through her skinsuit.

  ‘Normal, ye say? Normal tae me is a slice o’ haggis, a wee dram and a punch-up afore bedtime. Not this – this fallin’.’

  ‘We’re already entering the atmosphere,’ she said evenly. ‘Titan’s air extends out a lot further than Earth’s. The gravity’s lower. So we’re already starting to feel its effects…’

  He let her chunter on, not really listening, not really understanding. She was just a kid herself, and this was her way of coping, by taking care of everybody else. But now she was talking about the descent, and he tried to pay attention.

  ‘Your scooter will throw out a shield.’

  ‘A shield?’

  ‘Against the air friction. Don’t worry, it’s all automatic. And then once we’re under the smog layer there’ll be a parachute. You can use your rockets in the last few metres to cushion your landing. It’s all controlled by the scooter’s systems. Just make sure you’ve got your harness tightly secured.’

  ‘Aye, I dinna want to fall off this thing.’

  There was a wash of static on the comms link. The air was gathering now, almost glowing, a deep brownish orange. When Jamie looked up he saw the stars dimming out one by one.

  ‘We’re in the haze,’ Phee said. ‘The top of the air, where the sunlight manufactures hydrocarbons, a molecule at a time. They’re called tholins. They make the smog below us, and rain out on the surface. You might find streaks of the stuff on your equipment. Don’t worry, it’s normal, it can’t penetrate your suit.’

  The ride was turning into a bumpy buffeting, as the air thickened. He could actually hear something now, a kind of thin whistle, air catching the sharp edges of the scooter.

  And then, without warning, the scooter flipped forward so he was suddenly falling face-down, the scooter underneath him. He felt his last meal rising in his throat.

  The comms channel was breaking up, but he heard whoops, and a few alarmed cries, and Phee’s calm, steady voice: ‘Don’t worry! It’s normal! Just part of the automated entry programme…’

  Suddenly the spine of Jamie’s scooter popped open and a kind of sheet unfolded with a snap. The sheet billowed, grabbing at the air, becoming a shield underneath him, held open by an internal frame of lacy rods like the bones of a bat’s wing. The scooter’s descent immediately slowed, and Jamie felt a jolt as if he had been dropped from a height onto his stomach.

  Yet still he fell, into the thickening air. Below him was nothing but featureless orange mush. He could see the other scooter riders above, around, below him, lying on those big entry shields. But they were scattering, and he wondered how far apart they might all end up when they finally made landfall.

  Another sudden change. Jamie’s shield abruptly tore down the centre, and the two halves went flapping up past him to either side. For an instant he thought he was falling freely, but then he saw that the two panels were reassembling themselves over his head, turning into a pair of parachutes, not round but squared off, connected to the scooter by threads that tightened as the chutes billowed full of air. The scooter swivelled again, jolting Jamie upright, and he was swinging in the air now, slow as a clock pendulum, huge, steady, stoma
ch-dragging swings. But the chutes were holding above him, strong and proud.

  The comms channel seemed to clear of the static, and suddenly everybody was talking at once. But Jamie didn’t pay any attention to that, for the orange smog cleared, and he was looking down through clear air to a still-distant ground.

  In his days with the Doctor he had flown over many landscapes, on Earth, over the moon, and many alien worlds. But the Titan ground he saw below him now reminded him of nothing so much as his home, of Scotland: crumpled chains of mountains, a long narrow lake with a complicated shoreline, rivers snaking down from the higher ground. It was only the colours that were wrong. The lakes and rivers were jet black, not blue or steel grey, and the ground was a murky orange, not the green of forests or meadows. Jamie was reminded of the Land of Fiction, one of the strangest places he had visited with the Doctor, a place beyond space and time where everything had been jumbled up and reversed, just like this.

  And now he plummeted through a layer of clouds and the ground opened up further, expanding, its detail revealed a bit more with every heartbeat. Jamie looked for signs of human habitation: lights, roads, buildings. He wondered where that famous methane plant was. Nothing. He did, however, see a tremendous ripple on that loch of black ink, a wake as if created by a gigantic ship…

  There was a light in the air to his left, flaring green.

  ‘Can you see me?’ Sam called. ‘Gather around my flare, when we go in. It’ll be a lot easier to get together while we’re still in the air than when we’re down on the ground. I’m going to make for the southern coast of that big methane lake under us. That’s where our stash is, if nobody’s robbed it.’

  ‘Tha’s all verra well,’ Jamie called back. ‘But how d’ye steer this beastie? With the rockets?’

  People laughed at his ignorance. That was kids for you.

  Phee called back, ‘No, you steer by tipping the parachutes. But it’s all automatic, it works through the hand controllers.’