Doctor Who BBCN11 - The Art of Destruction

by Doctor Who

  ‘It’s that stuff!’ he shouted. ‘That stuff again!’

  Next moment, Rose was beside him. ‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s real gold.

  Like a little chest or something.’ She shone her torch round – and picked out a dark figure looming over them. Basel cowered, but Rose shook her head. ‘It’s just a statue – stone or something.’

  ‘Stay where you are and touch nothing,’ Faltato called to them. Suddenly, a whipcord cracked out from the hole in the rock and wrapped itself round one of the stalactites in the uneven ceiling. It grew taut as a scraping, clattering noise started up.

  ‘Its tongue is a grappling hook,’ she whispered.

  Basel shuddered, then gave the statue an uneasy second look. He saw now that the shape was tall and sharp like an obelisk but with all these curving fronds rising up from it, like it was having a bad hair day. ‘What is it meant to be?’

  ‘They sort of look a bit like wings,’ she murmured. ‘And see, there’s another one over there. Like a bird with its wings. . . being ripped off.’ She smoothed her hands through her hair, uneasy now. ‘Not just statues though, look. Paintings and things.’

  ‘Ain’t never seen paintings like that before,’ Basel murmured. He could see a huge canvas, smeared and scratched with freaky colours he couldn’t put names to, birds and planets and abstract shapes he didn’t recognise but which somehow sent tingles jarring down his spine. ‘How did this stuff get in here, all sealed up?’

  ‘It’s a treasure store,’ Rose realised. ‘Pictures, sculptures. . . ’

  ‘Don’t look very African,’ said Basel queasily. ‘It’s alien, right?’

  ‘Right. And if all this was hidden away inside this room, there’s got to be another way in and out, yeah? And we’ve got to find it.’

  73

  The ugly cactus head of Faltato peeped into view over the jagged edge of the demolished wall. A flex of the tongue and two little eyes were glaring at them. Soon he had pulled himself right up, swept his various legs over the side and sat there, staring at them.

  ‘Dunno what you’re planning to do with us,’ Rose told it fearlessly,

  ‘but check this out. We’ve got a. . . a demolishing grenade.’ She held up her empty fist like she was clutching something serious. ‘If you don’t let us go, we’ll set it off – blow all this lot to smithereens.’

  Faltato’s tongue snapped back into his mouth and his blubbery neck rippled. ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said, with smug satisfaction.

  Rose shifted her weight awkwardly. ‘Well, you’d better.’

  He shook his hideous head and pointed with a pincer. ‘If you were armed, I rather think that guardian would be moving more quickly to envelop you.’

  ‘What?’ Basel caught a glimpse of rolling gold movement even as Faltato spoke. ‘Oh, God.’

  ‘The blob’s back!’ Rose joined him in retreating. The thing rolled on towards them, glowing with an oily metallic fire. Basel jumped up on to the base of the statue-obelisk thing and the blob put on speed, surging towards him.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Faltato, watching closely.

  ‘Basel, it can climb up, remember?’ Rose gestured for him to come back down. ‘We’ll circle round it, yeah? You go that way, I’ll go this.’

  He did as she said – and swore as the blob simply split into two so it could bubble after them both.

  ‘Resourceful, isn’t it?’ Faltato observed.

  Rose shot him a poisonous look. ‘You just gonna sit there watching while this thing smothers us?’

  ‘That was my intention all along,’ he admitted.

  ‘Honest, I s’pose,’ came a familiar voice from out of the dusty darkness at the rear of the chamber. ‘Honest, but nasty.’

  Rose’s face split open into a mega-grin. ‘Doctor!’

  He came striding out from the back of the chamber, dodging past a row of angular sculptures, his hair wild, his stare as hard as the basalt.

  ‘Very nasty. Like the suit. By which I don’t mean that I like the suit 74

  – I mean the suit is very nasty. Like you are also very nasty, even if you’re honest.’ He suddenly stopped still, frowning. ‘Sorry, everyone, that was a rubbish entrance. Can I go back and start again?’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ said Rose. She was obviously dying to run to him, but the blob was blocking her way. It had stopped moving, as if uncertain how to react to this latest arrival. ‘Where d’you spring from?’

  ‘Back way in through a hidden tunnel, just found it. Well, just forced it open actually. Solomon knew about this stockpile of tools, right, but the funny thing is that some of them have gone missing. Uh-oh. . . ’ He pointed at the speechless Faltato. ‘Sorry if I’m jumping to conclusions, but I’m thinking “light-pincers” here. Broke in from the other side, did you? Tut, tut, tut. You’re lucky the whole roof hasn’t caved in.’

  ‘Who are you?’ hissed Faltato, his legs clicking together in agitation.

  ‘Rose gave you a big clue when she called me the Doctor. Oh! Sorry.’

  He peered at the monster. ‘Got any ears? You’re gifted in the eye department, I know, but when they were handing out ears. . . ’

  ‘He was front of the queue when they were handing out tongues,’

  Rose told him.

  ‘Calls himself Faltato, and he’s controlling these magma-form things – he has to be.’

  ‘Has he?’ The Doctor looked at Faltato. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Controlling them?’ Faltato was still staring at the blobs, but his middle eye swivelled round to face him. ‘Don’t be absurd. I’m observing them. Measuring them.’ He made a harsh, rattling sound. ‘Much as you are, I imagine.’

  The Doctor smiled. ‘Big room chock-full of Valnaxi art treasures and here you are, watching the guard dogs.’

  ‘So you know of the Valnaxi,’ Faltato said darkly.

  ‘Who doesn’t? Avian race, gifted artists. Gifted telepaths too –seems they actually connected with their own planet.’

  Rose frowned. ‘What, the planet had a brain or something?’

  ‘It had a spirit! A buzz! A passion all its own.’ The Doctor flung out his arms. ‘It was their muse, it inspired them, helped them create the most amazing, beautiful – beeeee-yoo-tiful – art. Their stuff goes for a bomb. But it was bombs that did for the Valnaxi.’ He glanced 75

  between Basel and Rose. ‘Got caught up in this really awful war, see.

  They held on to their planet for as long as they could –’

  ‘And then they were crushed,’ Faltato concluded.

  ‘The winning side always writes their version of history.’ said the Doctor. They had time to build all this. Doesn’t sound like a crushed race to me.’

  Basel frowned. ‘What you on about?’

  These blobs of magma, yeah? They are sentries, just like I thought, guarding this little hoard! Oh, but not just guarding it. Protecting it.’

  He nodded at Faltato. ‘I was right about the light-pincers, wasn’t I?

  You’re a thief! Oooh, yes. A dirty great tea-leaf!’

  ‘You talk a lot,’ Faltato complained.

  ‘Can talk the hind legs off a donkey,’ the Doctor agreed, ‘but where would I start with you, eh?’

  ‘Why have the blobs stopped?’ Rose hissed.

  ‘The guardians recognise they are in the presence of aliens.’ Faltato said. They are assessing the risks we each pose and formulating a strategy of how best to deal with us. From the time it’s taking them, there’s clearly significant degradation in the central circuitry. . . ’

  Suddenly the blobs started rolling towards the Doctor with horrible speed.

  ‘Doctor!’ yelled Rose.

  The blobs converged, became a superblob and surged hungrily onwards. The Doctor hurled himself to one side. ‘Solomon, now!’ The superblob made no attempt to follow him, sticking to its course.

  Solomon? Basel stared into the gloom at the back of the cavern, just as a bristling haze of green light snapped from out of there
and fixed on to the superblob, making it ripple like molten gold jelly. The ground started to shake as if in sympathy.

  ‘All right, kill the power!’ the Doctor called.

  The green light duly faded and Solomon came edging nervously into view, staring round at the room’s weird wonders and gripping an electro-masher in both hands – a tool more often used for smashing up concrete. He must have been hiding back there with the Doctor.

  ‘Did I kill that thing?’

  76

  ‘Of course you didn’t.’ snapped Faltato. ‘But I’m grateful to you for the demonstration.’

  ‘What. . .

  is that?’ Solomon swung up the masher to cover the creature on the wall. In a second, Faltato’s tongue had whipped out like one of Spider-Man’s webs, wrapped itself around the end of the tube and yanked it out of Solomon’s hands.

  The Doctor glared at him. ‘Thought I told you to stay out of sight?’

  ‘’S all right, man.’ said Basel, rushing over to his boss’s side. ‘I’m glad to see you!’

  ‘What’s happening here?’ Solomon breathed, staring between his empty hands and the thing on the wall. ‘Special effects? They making a movie down here?’

  ‘Disaster movie, maybe.’ Rose muttered.

  Faltato studied the masher briefly, then casually dropped it behind him, back into the chamber of bones. Then he sucked in his tongue like a thick string of very nasty spaghetti, pincers clicking open and closed, rapt in concentration. ‘Come on. . . Any moment now. . . ’

  The blob flared into sudden brightness. It started rolling slowly towards Solomon. As if it wanted revenge.

  ‘Recovered from sonic disruption within twelve chrono-ticks,’ Faltato noted. ‘Taken together with the delay in strategy formulation, overall degradation of performance would suggest to me that these guardians have lain dormant for maybe. . . 2,000 years, local time?’

  He threw his head back and made a vile, spluttering, sniggering sound. ‘Yes!’ he crowed, clapping all four pincers together. ‘The age matches up. This is the last Valnaxi art warren. The final burial ground for all the finest treasures.’

  ‘Speaking of burial grounds. . . ’ Rose pointed to the magma blob. It was glowing brighter, surging forwards.

  ‘Out of here.’ the Doctor snapped, grabbing Rose by the hand. ‘Run!’

  Solomon was first to turn and sprint for it, leading Basel to the narrow fissure in the rock that was almost invisible in the shadows.

  He didn’t look back.

  ‘Where we going now?’ Basel asked shakily.

  77

  ‘Through there is a side tunnel,’ the Doctor told him, ‘joins on to the central lava tube. But watch your step. I don’t think it’s too stable.’

  ‘Right now, don’t think I am,’ said Rose weakly.

  ‘Did you see the bones?’ Basel asked him.

  The Doctor frowned. ‘What bones?’

  ‘There’s a load of old skeletons in the cave next door,’ Rose put in.

  ‘Well, unless you want to get ours added to the pile – shift! Basel, you first.’

  Basel pushed through the split in the volcanic stone, ran hell for leather down the winding tunnel, his red torch lighting the way, until finally he saw the opening that led on to the central lava tube.

  And found Solomon looking down the wrong end of a plasma rifle wielded by a young kid with scared, staring eyes. He was flanked by two older guys, all bullet belts and bandanas.

  Adiel’s rebels, thought Basel, terrified as one of the men shoved a rifle in his face. Now we’re really gonna get it.

  78

  Adielwasrunningthroughthedarkenedcropfield,Fynnjustahead of her. With all doors to the unit guarded by golems, with the eastern tunnels overrun by the scum of the earth and with Kanjuchi’s new friends blocking off the main gate and the entrance to the western growth chambers, there was literally nowhere else to go – nowhere that afforded them cover.

  The lava tubes probably weren’t such a good idea anyway, since they had spawned the magma forms. And if she ran into the rebels there, what would she say – ‘Sorry, would you mind coming back to pillage and kill later on when we’ve got reinforcements ready to ambush you please?’

  The big scheme, so long in the planning, had gone to hell. And in turn a piece of hell had come here to get them. Every time she and Fynn paused for breath she heard the sound of the Kanjuchi golem crashing through the crop towards them. Presumably that meant that the magma form itself – the stuff that actually performed the change

  – didn’t want to stray too far from the lava tubes.

  It meant too that Kanjuchi would be trying to herd them back there.

  ‘Look.’ Fynn hissed, peering out from between some fleshy, upright aloe vera leaves. ‘Solomon’s jeep!’ The vehicle sat gleaming dully in 79

  the moonlight, abandoned on the dirt track at the periphery of the paved walkway. ‘Of course, they were 3D-imaging the volcano, right the way round, and the road only goes so far.’

  ‘Poor Solomon.’ Adiel murmured. ‘He must have not wanted to drive on the walkways.’

  ‘It’s not permitted.’ Fynn agreed. ‘But they might have got inside the eastern tunnels on foot. It might have been them we heard behind the door!’

  Or else the rebels have found them, Adiel realised, her head pounding.

  The dull throb was echoed by the thump of Kanjuchi’s progress through the fields, getting ever louder. He was closing on them fast.

  ‘Keys are still in the ignition.’ Fynn noted. ‘Maybe we could ram through the perimeter fence, get help.’

  Adiel nodded, broke cover from the borders of the crop field and jumped into the passenger seat. Fynn climbed up into the driver’s seat, his gaunt face beaded with sweat. In all the years since she’d left Moundou, Adiel had never once imagined that her survival might somehow depend on Director Fynn.

  The other way around, perhaps. . .

  He turned the ignition key. The engine grumped into life. Then he gripped hold of the steering wheel as if psyching himself up for what would come next.

  It came sooner than they could have guessed.

  Suddenly, the

  bloated, gleaming monster that Kanjuchi had become came crashing out of the crops towards them, dredging a roar from the depths of his golden throat.

  Rose wriggled out through the narrow fissure after the Doctor. The blob was still coming.

  ‘See if I can close the door behind us. . . ’ He started sonicking at the wall.

  Rose waited tensely. ‘So these Valnaxi – they’re meant to be good with a paintbrush, yeah?’

  80

  ‘That’s like saying Da Vinci was OK at drawing,’ the Doctor retorted.

  ‘The Valnaxi race produced more gifted artists than you’d think was possible. A very attuned people, very spiritual. . . At least they were, before the war.’

  ‘Sent them barmy, did it?’

  ‘No good,’ he murmured. ‘Can’t get the frequency. Come on!’ They moved along the tunnel after Basel and Solomon. ‘What d’you mean,

  “barmy”?’

  ‘Well, why would anyone bury their art treasures in a volcano, let alone a volcano on another planet?’

  ‘Good hiding place.’ he explained. ‘Makes sense when there’s a war on. Take your lot. Second World War, bombs dropping over Lon-don, you don’t want all your best pictures and sculptures going up in smoke, do you? So you evacuate them to the countryside! You hide them in castle dungeons, or lock them up in prisons.’ He stopped and smiled as if recalling some fond memory. The National Gallery shoved everything they had under a mountain in North Wales. The trouble we had getting Charles I on Horseback under Ffestiniog Bridge! Mind you, that was nothing compared to hoicking the Mona Lisa up Everest in the fifty-first century – on a camel. . . ’

  ‘So these Valnaxi,’ Rose said in an effort to get back on-topic, ‘did they dump all their art on Earth?’

  ‘Shouldn’t think so. Probably got treasu
res salted away in backwaters all over the galaxy. Earth was certainly nice and quiet 2,000 years ago. Poor old Valnaxi weren’t to know what a nuisance its people would grow up to be, how much attention they’d attract. . . ’ They had reached the hole in the rock which led to the main tunnel. ‘Not to mention just how much trouble –’

  ‘– they’d get into?’ Rose concluded, pushing through the hole and, in a moment of sharp, sudden horror, taking in the sight of Solomon and Basel being held by three men at gunpoint.

  ‘Westerners,’ said the oldest of the men. ‘Could be worth a bit.’ He jabbed his gun against Solomon’s neck and sneered at her. ‘Any more of you in there?’

  81

  Rose shook her head dumbly. You sort of expected the weird cactus-crab stuff with the Doctor, but this. . . this was a terror closer to home.

  Luckily the Doctor seemed less fazed. ‘Hello!’ He grinned as he took in the three armed figures. ‘You know, I thought I heard movement in the tunnels as we came along here before. We must have just missed each other! Imagine that. It’s like a farce, a French farce. Have you met the French, by the way?’

  The tall man, clearly the leader, raised his automatic weapon at the Doctor in warning. ‘We went into the grounds of your unit, but the door’s locked. We came down here looking for another way to get inside.’ He grinned. ‘Looks like we found it.’

  The Doctor sighed wearily. ‘You wanna know how much time we have for this?’

  ‘Give us trouble, we waste all of you.’ The teen gripped hold of Basel’s arm. ‘We don’t need you – none of you. Our men are still down there. They’ll force that door open in the end.’

  Solomon closed his eyes. ‘So they can take all the food they like and murder anyone who gets in their way?’

  ‘If they have to.’ The leader shrugged. ‘What do we owe state-lovers like you?’

  ‘’Scuse me,’ the Doctor piped up. ‘Little matter of killer alien blob coming down the tunnel behind us –’

  The leader swung his gun up into the Doctor’s face. ‘Another word out of you and –’