Doctor Who BBCN04 - The Deviant Strain

by Doctor Who

  He was watching with interest as, to Jack’s relief, Rose ran to help.

  The two of them were holding the woman’s hands now – forcing the blade upwards. But Barinska was incredibly strong, and she had her full weight behind the knife, trying to force it back down.

  ‘Levin said he thought he recognised you and you told him that was your mother. But it wasn’t, was it?’

  The Doctor stood up as he spoke and wandered casually over to watch the struggle. ‘I think you were here before that, weren’t you?

  Maybe before the navy came. Before the scientists. One of the original whaling community, maybe.’

  ‘Some help here would be nice,’ Jack gasped.

  ‘You didn’t work it out all by yourself, did you?’ the Doctor was saying. Then he seemed to realise what Jack had said. ‘Oh yeah.’

  But to Jack’s annoyance, the Doctor did not try to help them deflect the knife. It inched closer to him again. Rose was losing her grip – her 105

  feet sliding across the floor as she struggled to hold Barinska’s wrists.

  The Doctor seemed to have disappeared completely.

  Then suddenly it was over. Barinska gave a cry of surprise and fell backwards. The knife clattered to the floor and Rose grabbed for it as Jack pushed himself away from the control panel.

  ‘What happened?’ Jack asked.

  The Doctor’s voice came from the other side of the panel. ‘I kicked her feet away.’ His delighted face appeared above the panel and he waved. ‘Come and see.’

  Barinska was lying face down on the ground. The Doctor had his foot on her back, as if she was a hunting trophy. The woman was lying completely still, but the Doctor kept his foot firmly planted in position.

  ‘You didn’t answer my questions,’ he told her. ‘But I bet you can feel it, can’t you? The lingering presence in your mind of the dead pilot’s own life force. His mental energy – guiding you, instinctively, to repair the systems. To survive long enough to get the ship working again.’

  Barinska did not move.

  ‘You mean he ain’t dead at all?’ Rose said.

  ‘Oh, he’s dead as a dodo. Just his mind, or part of it, lives on in the systems. Symbiosis. The pilot is one with the machine – his body may die but his mind lingers, like I said. Reaching out like the message.

  And what,’ he asked Barinska, ‘you found the ship and it talked to you, in your head, is that it?’

  ‘That’s how she was able to adapt the systems,’ Jack realised.

  ‘Yeah. Her and her mates, whoever they are. They think they want to live for ever. But actually it’s the ship and the pilot that want them to live for ever. Or until the repairs are finished. Irony is, keeping its little helpers alive means the ship’s crippled for good.’ He rolled Barinska with his foot. ‘I know you’re not unconscious,’ he told her.

  ‘So who else is in on this, eh? Who else still thinks their life is their own?’

  The reply was an angry, guttural snarl. Barinska rolled suddenly over and leaped to her feet. Jack made a grab at her, but she was too 106

  quick – darting past and heading quickly for the hatchway leading out into the cave.

  The door opened before she got there. Colonel Levin was framed in the doorway, his pistol drawn. He stared in surprise at the woman rushing towards him.

  ‘Stop her, Colonel,’ Jack shouted.

  Several of Levin’s men had entered behind him. They levelled their assault rifles as Levin ordered, ‘Halt!’

  But Barinska kept coming.

  Levin hesitated. ‘Halt, or I fire.’

  Barinska was almost on them now.

  ‘Fire!’ Jack shouted.

  Perhaps out of fright, perhaps realising the danger, perhaps instinctively obeying the order, the nearest soldier fired.

  The bullets slammed into Barinska, knocking her backwards. She fell on her back with a groan.

  Levin raised his hand to stop the firing. All the soldiers moved slowly towards the figure on the ground.

  ‘I’d be careful,’ the Doctor cautioned.

  Even as he said it, Barinska heaved herself off the floor and ran full pelt at the troops. The soldier who had shot her was standing gaping at the wounds he had inflicted. Then Levin fired. A moment later the others fired too.

  All except the soldier who had shot first. It was too late for him.

  Barinska’s arm swept round viciously, catching him in the neck. He stumbled and fell, and as he crashed to the floor Barinska’s boot caught him under the chin, snapping his head back with an audible crack. She grabbed his rifle as he fell, turned, levelled it.

  The woman was driven back by the volley of bullets from the soldiers, so most of her own shots went wide. But one of the soldiers caught a round in the shoulder. Another was knocked backwards as several bullets smacked into his chest.

  Barinska was staggering under the automatic fire. She still clutched the rifle but was unable to bring it to bear. She managed to turn, running back across the ship towards the Doctor, Jack and Rose.

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  Jack and Rose dived to the floor. The Doctor, however, was still out in the open. Bullets thudded into the floor as Barinska managed to fire. Dust kicked up at the Doctor’s feet. He didn’t hesitate. He turned and ran.

  Jack twisted, enough to see the Doctor make it through the hatch on the opposite side of the control deck. He disappeared rapidly up the tunnel the other side.

  Then Barinska herself came into view – running after the Doctor, rifle at the ready. Her clothes were stained red and there were dark scorch-ringed holes across her chest. One bullet had all but taken off her jaw, leaving the skin ripped so that the lower half of her face was smiling like a skull. It did not seem to have slowed her down at all.

  Levin and the soldiers reached the hatch just moments after Barinska. But it was moments too late. The heavy metal door had swung shut behind her. Now it was locked.

  ‘There must be a way to open it from in here,’ Levin said.

  Jack got to his feet and dusted himself down. He looked round at the rewired panels. Several of them were smoking from bullet impacts. ‘You want to guess which control to use?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Where does that tunnel lead?’ Levin snapped.

  ‘To Barinska’s house,’ Rose told him.

  ‘You know the way?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Show us.’ Levin pointed to two of the soldiers. ‘You two, medical detail. Do what you can for the wounded.’

  The Doctor’s plan, such as it was, was to escape from Barinska without being shot. If he could stay ahead he might get a chance to look at the equipment she had in her house – which, according to Rose’s story, was where this tunnel led. From that he might be able to come up with an idea of how to cut off her supply of energy. The problem with this was of course that he could hear her running after him, and every now and again a bullet whined past his head or smacked into the floor at his feet to remind him that Barinska had something of an advantage.

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  Maybe he’d skip the tour of her house and just leg it. He could meet Rose and Jack back at the institute later and decide how to deal with the spaceship. And the remote probes. And Barinska. And he had noticed she said ‘we’ when describing her ambition to live for ever, so presumably she had friends with a similar investment in keeping the ship intact, though he had guessed that from the monkeys. . .

  ‘Who wants to live for ever?’ the Doctor muttered as he ran. ‘Just today would be a start.’ Another bullet flew past him, and he wondered how many there were in the clip. And how many she had used.

  And whether there was another clip attached to the gun. Not a very helpful line of enquiry, he decided.

  He could still hear Barinska behind him as he started up the steps.

  Her breath was ragged and hoarse, but she did not seem to have been slowed down by her wounds. Rapid repair, inherited from the ship’s systems maybe. Something else he could wonder about later.

&n
bsp; The Doctor slammed the door at the top of the steps behind him.

  There did not seem to be any way to lock it and he couldn’t see anything to use to jam it shut quickly enough. So he ran.

  Forget the equipment upstairs – come back for that later. The air was ice cold in the Doctor’s mouth, throat and lungs as he emerged from Barinska’s house and set off down the road. Anywhere to hide?

  Not really – she was too close. As in the house, she’d see if he tried to duck in anywhere. Just keep going, hope to extend his lead or that she would tire.

  Along the road. Towards the harbour – rusting cranes and abandoned loading gear thrusting up out of the snow – black against the grey night sky. Then mist – as he approached the sea, the mist was rolling in. That might help, might obscure him for long enough.

  A junction at the end of the quay – choices, decisions. He went left, and realised almost at once it was a mistake. He was on the quay now, a section jutting out into the bay. A jetty. No way off, except by diving into the water. And even that wouldn’t work, he saw, as he glanced over the side. The sea was frozen to ice. He would be exposed on a white carpet – a perfect target even in the mist.

  Bullets cracked across the roadway. He could almost hear her snarls 109

  of rage. His lungs were bursting, while the icy air was making his cheeks sting and his ears burn. ‘Next time,’ he gasped, ‘smaller ears.

  Definitely.’

  Dark shapes ahead of him as he neared the end of the jetty. A submarine, listing to one side. Not hopeful – his weight might sink it. Probably it was half flooded anyway. A death trap, he thought ruefully, as another volley of bullets kicked up puffs of snow around him.

  A stark silhouette beside the sub. Crates and metal drums. Somewhere to hide, or at least take cover. Maybe. More shots as the Doctor leaped, scrambled over a crate, dived behind the nearest of the drums.

  He could see now, he realised. Everything was lit in a dull blue glow.

  And with bullets ricocheting round him, the Doctor saw that he was crouching behind an oil drum.

  ‘Not good,’ he said aloud. But perhaps the drum was empty. He pushed at it experimentally. It didn’t budge. ‘Not good at all.’

  And stacked alongside were a dozen more drums. Diesel, probably.

  Waiting never to be used to refuel the submarine beside him. ‘Oil.

  Gunfire. Torpedoes and missiles. . . Definitely not good.’

  He looked round for something that might help. Anything. A cautious glance over the top of the drums revealed Sofia Barinska walking slowly down the jetty, gun levelled and ready. Her face was a mixture of blood red and pale blue. Where was that light coming from?

  In fact, it seemed to be getting brighter. Coming, it seemed, from the end of the jetty behind him.

  From the glutinous, hideous creature that was hauling itself up onto the end of the roadway and slithering slowly towards where the Doctor was crouching. A tentacle lashed out, slapping across the oil drum beside him. It pulled back, dragging the drum over onto its side. The drum scraped and boomed as it fell, started to roll.

  Alerted by the sound, Barinska opened fire.

  Another tentacle shot out, landing beside the Doctor. Then another.

  The creature was moving more quickly now, straight towards the Doctor, quivering, shimmering, glowing. . . More tentacles.

  Another burst of gunfire. A ragged line of holes punched into the 110

  rolling drum and liquid spilled darkly into the snow.

  A tentacle smacked into the Doctor’s side, curled, grabbed, wrapped itself round him and started to pull him back. He could feel himself weakening in its grasp.

  More shots.

  The roar of ignition as the fuel oil caught.

  Fire running from the rolling drum, back towards the Doctor and the other oil drums.

  A tentacle crashing into the middle of the stack, sending drums flying, tumbling, rolling into the flames.

  Then the explosions. Oil spilling, igniting, burning. Lighting up the misty night. A wave of fire crashing towards the Doctor as he struggled to break free.

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  A dark figure emerged from the fiery mist: Sofia Barinska, looking from side to side, the gun ready. The Doctor was tearing desperately at the tentacle round his waist, trying to prise it away. Without success.

  But he was no longer weakening. As in the lab earlier, he could feel the strength coming back as the creature – or rather the ship’s systems – decided it wasn’t interested in his life force. And despite the situation, the Doctor could not help noticing that the creature had stopped its advance. Even before it assessed his life force it had slowed and stopped. He didn’t have time to wonder why – Barinska had seen him.

  She gave a shout of triumph that was almost lost in the roar of the flames around them. The gun swung up.

  The tentacles unwound rapidly from the Doctor, leaving him gasping in the hot smoky air. Then the creature lashed out sideways, sensing a better source of energy. Tentacles flew straight at Barinska.

  The gun was swept aside as she pulled the trigger, the shots firing into the air and lost in the black smoke that blotted out all light except for the fire. A second tentacle thrashed after the first. Barinska’s 113

  screams were gradually getting fainter. Her arms reached out towards the Doctor, her eyes were wide, begging for help.

  He could only watch as she was dragged along the quay, leaving a black trail in the snow behind her. The creature was backing away, keeping well clear of the fire. The Doctor stood watching – the flames behind him, the smoke swirling round him like fog. Watching as Sofia Barinska’s face cracked and crumpled and withered, and she disappeared into the darkness.

  Rose was outside the inn when the quay exploded, leading the soldiers from Barinska’s house back towards the docks. Even through the thickening sea mist she could see the ball of flame erupting into the air. She felt the heat on her face and skidded to a halt. Jack was beside her, Levin and three of the soldiers close behind.

  The door of the inn opened and several people ran out to see what was happening.

  ‘Down by the dry dock,’ one of them said. ‘Poor old Nikolai kept spare fuel oil down there. Didn’t want it too close to the Rykov.’

  ‘The Doctor?’ Levin said, waving his men forwards.

  ‘Who else would it be?’ Rose told him. ‘Come on.’

  It looked as if the whole of the roadway was on fire as they approached. The street lights were still on, struggling to make an impression through the smoke and fog. The end of the quay was burning. And out of it walked a lone figure – black against the red. The Doctor.

  ‘Singed my jumper,’ he complained as he reached them. ‘Look at that.’

  Rose pulled him into a hug.

  ‘And now it’s getting crumpled.’ He was grinning as he said it.

  ‘Where’s the woman?’ Levin asked. ‘Where’s Barinska?’

  The soldiers were taking up position along the quay, aiming their assault rifles into the ball of fire, waiting to see if anyone else emerged from the inferno.

  ‘She won’t be joining us,’ the Doctor said. He was already walking back along the quay, one arm round Rose.

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  ‘You don’t believe in doing things quietly, do you, Doctor?’ Levin said. ‘Now perhaps you can tell us what the hell is going on here.’

  ‘Need to know, Colonel,’ Jack said.

  ‘He does need to know,’ Rose pointed out.

  ‘Does he? Oh, right.’ Jack nodded. ‘The inn?’

  ‘That’s hardly a secure environment,’ Levin said.

  ‘True,’ Jack told him. ‘But you’re going to need a drink.’

  ‘Probably several,’ the Doctor called back to them. ‘Let’s hope the company’s. . . safe.’

  Levin and his men listened intently to the Doctor’s story. There was silence when he finished. Most of the villagers who were still up drinking had gathered round to listen as well. They l
ooked more sober now than they had ten minutes before, Rose thought.

  ‘D’you believe me?’ the Doctor asked.

  ‘I don’t have a better explanation,’ Levin conceded. ‘Call it a working hypothesis until I do.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Rose said.

  ‘So what do you propose we do? We could mine this spaceship –blow it to bits.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘You’d be releasing a pent-up store of colossal energy that could do untold damage.’ He smiled thinly. ‘Says that in the handbook.’

  ‘Yeah,’ the Doctor agreed, ‘and it wouldn’t stop the remotes. They’d just keep gathering energy to try to provide sufficient power for the ship to rebuild itself.’

  Any further discussion on the subject was cut abruptly short by a commotion on the other side of the inn. Someone was shouting and people were rushing towards the door.

  Rose looked across in time to see old Georgi stumble in. He was holding a white stick – waving it in front of him as he staggered across to the bar. Several of the locals ran to help him.

  ‘They’re coming!’ Georgi was shouting. ‘I can see them. See them in my mind. Glowing, hunting, killing. . . Coming for us.’ His sightless 115

  eyes were wide and blank, staring up at the men helping him to a seat.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Jack asked.

  ‘It’s Georgi,’ Rose told him. ‘He saw that bloke’s death – the one who kept the generator running. Georgi saw it happen. Like, in his mind’s eye.’

  ‘Oh, sure,’ Jack said.

  ‘He did!’

  ‘It’s possible,’ the Doctor said quietly.

  ‘You’re not serious?’ Levin countered.

  ‘The ship communicates somehow with the remotes. That might be on a psychic wavelength. If this guy’s alpha waves are operating on a similar frequency he might pick up on the link to the ship. He might actually see what the remotes are sending back.’

  ‘So can we tell what they’re up to?’ Rose wondered, watching as someone handed Georgi a drink and the old man swigged it back in one.

  ‘They’re on their way,’ he gasped. ‘We have to get away from here –now!’