Doctor Who: Apollo 23

by Richards, Justin

  ‘And there he was, having his hand bandaged as if nothing had happened. Well, nothing except he’d burned his hand. How can he not remember? And how can he think this is all normal? I mean, I know the military aren’t always the sharpest tools in the box, but even soldiers must have some critical abilities. They have to be able to shoot guns, don’t they? So you’d hope they can tell one end from the other at least. Maybe I’ve been overestimating—’

  ‘Um, Amy?’ the Doctor interrupted. ‘I know you said not to interrupt, but just so you know, I’ve got General Walinski with me here still. And a couple of other military people. Sorry, should have mentioned that earlier. It might be a bit late to tell you that by the time you hear me.’

  Amy closed her eyes and cringed inwardly. ‘No but seriously,’ she said quickly. ‘I was just kidding, I think soldiers are great. Lovely… uniforms. Sorry, Doctor, what was that? Oh and a great sense of humour too, so they’ll know what I mean.’

  There was an awkward pause that seemed to last for ever. Then a voice Amy recognised as the General from his conversation with Captain Reeve earlier said levelly: ‘That was a long few seconds.’

  ‘Longest of my life,’ Amy muttered. Louder, she went on: ‘Anyway, that’s what’s been happening to me. So, basically, I guess the soldier’s mind was affected somehow, and it has to be to do with Jackson’s process. Mind-wipes and all that. It was like he’d been hypnotised or programmed or something. Anyone could be affected, I don’t know who to trust.’ As she said it, she realised just how alone she was. ‘I miss you, Doctor. When are you coming back? I need you here.’

  There was another long pause. Then the Doctor’s voice came through:

  ‘My turn now, then, if you’ve finished. What? Oh, yes, I miss you too. Coming back? Well, slight problem there because the quantum link needs to be mended at your end. And I don’t think there’s anyone up there who can do it. Or at least, no one who wants to.’

  ‘You’ve confirmed Colonel Devenish’s sabotage theory,’ Walinski said. ‘Though we still don’t have a motive, unless the Doctor’s right.’

  Right about what? Amy almost asked. But she bit her tongue and kept quiet.

  Sure enough, the Doctor explained anyway. ‘You’re spot on about Jackson’s process,’ he said. ‘I don’t know if Jackson is behind it, but the process has been hijacked. You remember I said that there’s a void left by removing the patient’s memories? And it needs to be filled with something else? I think that’s what’s happening. Something has found the empty spaces and sneaked in. Maybe that’s how these “Blanks” you mentioned are being programmed and controlled. Or perhaps that’s a separate application of the process. But something is fixing on the blank spaces in the mind and taking up residence there.’

  ‘You mean, like downloading software onto a blank bit of hard disk, of computer memory?’ Amy asked. ‘Sorry,’ she added quickly.

  ‘I wish I could think of a good analogy,’ the Doctor went on, oblivious. ‘Something went wrong with that poor Prisoner Nine, and Jackson put some of his own memories into the man’s brain. That was how he knew me, and how he recalled setting up the process in the first place. What Jackson does is he erases a bit of someone’s memory, and into that space…’ He paused. ‘Yes…’ He paused again. ‘Oh that’s very good, yes. That’s exactly what it’s like. Downloading, I like that. Actually, I don’t like it at all, but the analogy is good.’

  ‘So who’s downloading stuff into people’s brains?’ Amy asked.

  ‘The question is who’s downloading stuff into people’s brains,’ Walinski said.

  ‘You both think so,’ the Doctor said. ‘Well, the answer is – I don’t know. But it’s something that has an affinity with the human brain. Something that can transmit into the mind itself. Something that has a purpose in doing just that. Something that definitely isn’t human.’

  ‘And that has hostile intentions,’ Walinski added.

  ‘Seems that way,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘Hold tight, Amy. I’m going to try to fix things from down here. I’ll find a way to reconnect long enough for me to get back, then I can sort out the alien invaders, and we can all go home. Easy.’

  ‘Oh yeah, easy,’ Amy said. Even over the radio, she could tell from his tone that the Doctor was more worried than he was letting on.

  ‘Just make sure no one else gets to find out about this,’ the Doctor said. ‘You’re right not to trust anyone… Oh, glad you think so. But it probably won’t be so easy…’

  In another room on Base Diana, the Doctor’s voice came clearly through a small speaker wired into the main communications systems.

  ‘I’ll talk to you again soon. If you need to call us, you can talk to the General here, or Agent Jennings. Or you can ask for Candace Hecker. She’s in charge of research and… stuff. So she’ll know what you’re talking about. Probably. As much as anyone, anyway. Just sit tight till I sort something out.’

  The uniformed figure in the room reached out and turned off the speaker. The Doctor was a problem, even stranded back on Earth. They would have to make sure he never got back to the moon.

  Chapter

  11

  Of one thing, Amy was sure – she wasn’t going to ‘just sit tight’ until the Doctor sorted something out. That might be days – or weeks, even. And for all she knew, the bad guys – Jackson or the aliens, if there were actually any aliens – were already suspicious of her. According to the Doctor, they’d tried to kill him, and had actually killed Colonel Devenish, just for interfering.

  She didn’t doubt for a moment that the Doctor would be back. He wouldn’t abandon her. He wouldn’t abandon the TARDIS either, which was parked out on the lunar surface. When he did get back, it would be useful to know who they could trust, and who’d had their mind fried and occupied by the alien invaders.

  One encouraging thing was that the Doctor’s theory made sense of some of the things that Liz Didbrook had said. In between the gibberish and rubbish, she’d talked about ‘them’. Even the poor prisoner who’d died after being processed had warned: ‘They’re here.’ Was that Jackson himself, his mind free of the alien influence, trying to warn them through someone else’s body?

  Amy was sure that she couldn’t trust either Jackson, Nurse Phillips or Major Carlisle – not that she liked the Major anyway. But there was no one, not even the ever-attentive and charming Captain Reeve, that she was sure she could trust. No one except Liz Didbrook. And Amy could only trust her in those brief moments when she slipped nuggets of information and words of warning between the random sentences that perhaps kept the aliens in her mind at bay. If she’d been an early victim of the process, maybe it had gone wrong or not worked properly on her…

  Without having really made a decision, Amy found she was walking towards the Medical Centre. If Liz was possessed by some alien mind parasite then it already knew about Amy’s interest. Talking to her again could hardly make things worse.

  Hoping she was right, Amy peered carefully round the door to the Medical Centre. She’d rather Nurse Phillips didn’t know she’d come back for another chat with the star patient.

  Nurse Phillips was standing at her desk in the small reception area. The fact that she was standing up was hopeful. Unless she’d just arrived and was about to sit down… Amy waited, hardly daring to breath, and ready to duck back out of sight if Nurse Phillips looked towards the door. But she seemed intent on something on the desk. She reached down, and turned a sheet of paper. She was reading something – a medical report probably.

  After what seemed an age, Nurse Phillips straightened up, checked her watch, and then headed purposefully towards the door.

  Amy quickly ran back down the corridor. She hadn’t thought about what to do if Nurse Phillips actually left. She’d hoped the woman would go through into the main part of the Medical Centre to check on someone or something so she could slip inside and get to Liz Didbrook.

  Amy opened the nearest door and hurried inside. The room was dark, and Amy q
uickly pushed the door almost shut behind her. She left a crack of light, watching until Nurse Phillips had walked past. Then Amy breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She was about to open the door again when the lights came on.

  ‘Holy Moley!’ a gruff voice announced. ‘Who are you?’

  Amy spun round. She was in a bedroom, identical to the one Captain Reeve had assigned to her. Except that this was not her bedroom. And the soldier it did belong to was sitting up in bed, metal dogtags rattling against his bare chest.

  ‘Oh, er hi,’ Amy said. ‘Health and Safety, just checking your door. Making sure the hinges don’t squeak. In the dark.’ She opened and closed the door a couple of times just to show. ‘See. No problem.’

  The soldier didn’t look convinced. In fact he looked rather irritated – angry even. He swung his bare legs out of the bed, and as the sheets looked about to fall away, Amy pulled the door open and hurried out into the corridor. ‘Give yourself an A1 rating for your hinges,’ she called back. ‘Sorry to disturb you.’

  There was a quiet, steady blip from the equipment. Liz was asleep, breathing regularly and calmly. Amy hoped she wasn’t heavily sedated. She shook the young woman’s shoulder gently. Then more firmly.

  After several seconds, Liz’s eyes flickered open. ‘What? Is it time for milk and honey?’

  ‘It’s me, Amy. I spoke to you before, remember?’

  ‘Memory cheats,’ Liz said sleepily. ‘Other people’s memories are not their own.’

  ‘I know – I know what you mean now. I know why you have to speak nonsense. It’s to stop them getting a hold in your mind, so they don’t realise that you’re telling me things, isn’t it?’

  ‘I tried to tell everyone. I put a wolf in the wood.’

  ‘A spanner in the works? Is that what you mean?’

  ‘A fly in the ointment.’

  ‘You mean the sabotage?’ Amy was talking in a loud whisper, though she was pretty sure there was no one else about. ‘You sabotaged the systems, is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘Neglected children seek it. Soldiers stand to it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘An elastic band gets stretched and has it.’

  It wasn’t nonsense at all, Amy realised. More like a code, and she was just beginning to get the hang of it. ‘A tension. You mean attention – you sabotaged the systems to get attention? Well, you got me and the Doctor, so it sort of worked.’

  Suddenly Liz sat up. ‘Have you come to take me to the party? Will I see all the others now? I’m sleepy. I could go to the party. The sleepover party. All sleeping.’

  ‘What party?’ Amy asked. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Or am I too sleepy?’ The woman slumped backwards on to her pillow. Her grey eyes closed. ‘You go for me. At quarter past nine, or just after. 21.17 it opens. But don’t sleep over. Never sleep over. Waking is best. Gatecrashers not wanted, oh no. Naughty.’

  ‘OK,’ Amy said. ‘Seriously confused now. So, where is this party you want me to gatecrash?’ She put her hand on Liz’s shoulder. ‘Where?’

  The eyes snapped open again – vivid blue irises staring at Amy. ‘Pod 7,’ Liz said. ‘Party on.’ Then her eyes closed again, and she began to snore softly.

  The woman in the reception area of the Medical Centre turned sharply as Amy walked in.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ Amy said. ‘I don’t think Nurse Phillips is here, I was just looking for her.’

  ‘No problem,’ Major Carlisle said shortly. ‘You know how long she’ll be?’

  Amy shook her head. ‘She wasn’t here when I arrived.’

  ‘You and the Doctor – why are you really here?’

  ‘To fix the systems.’ It came out like a question. Amy sensed she was being interrogated.

  ‘I just wonder if I can trust you,’ Major Carlisle said.

  ‘Oh absolutely. Very trustworthy. Something you want to confess?’ Maybe that was going too far, Amy thought. But she’d said it now.

  ‘Tell me,’ Carlisle said slowly, ‘have you noticed anything odd since you arrived here on Diana?’

  ‘Apart from the fact the quantum thing isn’t working.’

  ‘Not the equipment, the people.’ Major Carlisle stared intently at Amy, as if trying to read the answer in her freckles.

  ‘The people?’ This must be a trick. How Amy answered could mean the difference between life and death, liberty and… being processed. ‘No, everyone’s been very good and helpful. Why do you ask?’

  Major Carlisle’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘No reason. Just that I want to be sure my team is giving you all the help and attention you need.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Amy assured her. ‘I’m getting all the attention I need.’ Then, as Major Carlisle turned to leave, Amy said: ‘What’s in Pod 7?’

  Carlisle paused, then turned back. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Just wondered. Something someone said.’

  ‘Someone?’

  ‘One of your team.’

  Major Carlisle nodded as if this made sense. ‘Pod 7 is a holding and processing area for new prisoners. We’ve had none for several months and none are due – even before the current transportation problems.’

  ‘So, what’s in there?’

  ‘Nothing. Pod 7 is completely empty.’ Carlisle tilted her head slightly to one side. ‘Does that answer your question, Miss Pond?’

  ‘It does, thank you, Major Carlisle.’

  ‘Then I’ll leave you to it.’

  ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid,’ Amy muttered to herself over and over. It was stupid to have asked about Pod 7 and tipped Major Carlisle off like that. Of course she’d given nothing away. But then again, maybe she’d think that Amy believed her – why wouldn’t she, after all?

  Amy had headed to the canteen and got herself a coffee – that tasted foul. She was pretty sure she wasn’t being followed. Major Carlisle had gone off towards the admin area. Pod 7 was on the other side of the base. Well away from everything else, it was a separate area extending out from the main part of the base. That made sense if it was where the prisoners arrived. Isolated and self-contained. But it also meant there was only one corridor leading to it.

  To get to that one corridor, Amy had to pass the cell block. She stared out at the central hub, knowing now that there were people incarcerated there. The door at the far end of the long room was locked, a numeric keypad beside it. There was also a small, square glass plate like a fire alarm activator. Amy was tempted to break the plate, but it would probably set off an alarm and there was no guarantee it would unlock the door. And who knew what else it might do?

  But she didn’t know the code. Or did she? Liz had said the party was at 21.17, which had seemed like an odd time even for an imaginary party. What exactly had she said? ‘21.17 it opens.’ That had to be it. Amy keyed in 2117, and the door slid open.

  ‘Yes!’ Amy said in triumph. Immediately, she turned to check there was no one there.

  Amy let the door close behind her, then keyed the code in again to make sure she could get out. Happy that it worked both ways, she let the door close once more, then made her way cautiously along the corridor to Pod 7.

  The light gradually dimmed as she went along the corridor, augmented at first and eventually replaced by the blood-red glow of the emergency lighting. Amy guessed that as the area wasn’t used, they didn’t bother keeping the lights on all the time.

  If it really wasn’t used.

  The corridor ended in another door. Again, Amy keyed in the 2117 code. Again, the door slid silently open. And Amy stepped into a nightmare.

  There were twenty tables, arranged in four rows of five and all illuminated by the eerie red lighting. Each table was about two metres long by a metre wide, all identical, plain, plastic and metal like you might find in a modern office.

  Except that lying on each table was a body. Wires ran from pads attached to the bodies’ temples to a monitor beside each table. Heartbeats blipped across a small screen. Temperatures rose and fell by fractions o
f a degree. All twenty bodies breathed to the same rhythm, so that the room itself sounded as if it was alive.

  Amy walked slowly between the rows of tables. What was this place? A sick bay, or something more sinister?

  All twenty bodies were wearing army uniforms. They were mostly men, but there were a few women too. All twenty had their eyes wide open, and all were staring sightlessly at the ceiling.

  All except the soldier on the table closest to the door where Amy had come in. He was staring right at Amy as she moved along the rows of tables. The blip of his heartbeat went dead and his temperature fell, as he pulled the pads from his head and sat up.

  Chapter

  12

  The hot Texan sun reflected off the polished metal plates like they were mirrors. Candace Hecker watched Graham Haines repositioning one of the plates. Other scientists were checking the angles and connections of the other plates.

  For once, Agent Jennings’ sunglasses didn’t seem out of place as he stood with General Walinski watching the work. Feeling both unnecessary and out of her depth, Candace joined them. She wasn’t used to feeling this way, and she didn’t like it.

  ‘Will this work?’ Walinski asked.

  Candace shrugged. ‘Who knows? No one really understands how quantum displacement works, not since Charlie Flecknoe died.’

  ‘He set the systems up?’ Jennings asked.

  Candace nodded. ‘Invented it, built the equipment, got it working. Then got cancer and was dead in months. That was back in the eighties. He left loads of notes, but only a few people understand any of them. It’s been enough to keep the systems working, but we’ve really been operating on a wing and a prayer.’

  ‘And now the wing’s bust,’ Walinski told them. ‘But this Doctor – he seems to understand it.’

  ‘He doesn’t look old enough to know diddly,’ Jennings said.

  They watched the Doctor in his shirtsleeves running between the metal plates that ran in two parallel lines across the desert. He realigned some, checked the wires connecting others. Sometimes just nodded his appreciation.