by Doctor Who
‘Or the German Ocean, as Crayshaw calls it,’ she scoffed as she crossed to join Mickey. ‘I know he’s old, but the North Sea hasn’t been called that since for ever. . . ’ Looking over his shoulder, she checked out the file. ‘Three years ago, HMS Lancer.’
‘I don’t remember hearing about it.’
‘Smaller ship, crew of just thirty. Easier to hush up.’ She read on.
‘Powers was the only survivor, picked up in a lifeboat. . . ’
‘And took a lot of time off work by the look of it,’ said Mickey. ‘Ex-tended sick leave.’ He clicked on another area of the website, brought up another submenu. ‘What about Crayshaw, wonder if he ever sank?’
Vida waited while he worked to bring up the old git’s record.
‘Funny. He ain’t here.’
‘He’s a rear admiral. The file’s probably restricted.’
‘I’ll search the whole site, see if anything comes up,’ Mickey announced.
‘OK,’ Vida crossed back to her chair and slumped in it, closed her eyes, let the drowsy hum of the computers drag her into a daze.
‘Oh. My. God. It came up.’
‘What did?’ she said a little grouchily.
‘How long since they stopped calling the North Sea the German Ocean?’
‘I don’t know. Some time in the nineteenth century?’
‘Well, old habits die hard. And he’s been around long enough to get a few.’
Reluctantly she opened her eyes. ‘What are you on about?’
‘The only place I can find any mention of this John Anthony Crayshaw bloke is in the naval history section. He was fifty-five and his ship, the Ballantine, went down in a storm. And what d’you know 105
– that was in the North Sea.’ Mickey turned to look at her, grave-faced.
‘In 1759.’
For a few moments all she could do was stare at him. ‘That’s crazy.
I mean, I know he looks old, but getting on for his 250th birthday?’
Mickey shrugged. ‘You’re probably right. Probably just a weird coincidence.’
‘I mean, it’s not very likely that Powers picked a footnote from naval history to head up this inquiry and give him control over the military presence around Stanchion House, is it?’
‘Right. Let’s not get carried away.’
‘No. Don’t want to look stupid.’
‘Nah.’
They sat in silence for about two seconds before jumping lip from their seats and sprinting to tell the Doctor.
The Doctor caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye, looked up from the plans. No sign of anything.
Then he realised the water he’d been analysing had vanished. The beaker was empty.
A faint seaside whiff caught in his nostrils.
‘You’re here, aren’t you?’ he said aloud, staring round. The room seemed empty. Then he saw the sink was almost full, and yet he’d run noThe water jumped out of the sink like a living thing, struck his face as cold and hard as glass. He fell backwards against the lab bench, sent it screeching across the floor, collapsed to his knees. He couldn’t breathe. The water was squeezing up his nose, through his lips, forcing its way into his eyes.
Revenge, he thought. It’s testing me just like I tested it.
‘No,’ he said, spitting the word out into the water, forcing himself to stay calm. ‘Get out.’
But the pressure was rising in his head. It was like tasting history, old, sour and salty on his tongue. He felt the growth of slow centuries, ancient knowledge amassing somewhere beyond the tip of his mind, 106
an insistent feeling that the time was drawing near. Time for the feast. . .
Screaming soundlessly, the Doctor fought to cling on to consciousness as the alien fluid stepped up its attack.
Rose found Keisha further down the corridor. ‘Keish,’ she said gently,
‘are you OK?’
‘Yeah. Great.’ Keisha turned around, her face hard and tear-stained.
‘D’you remember Old Scary?’
‘Course I do,’ said Rose, puzzled. Old Scary was a weird nutter who used to tramp around the estate when she and Keisha were kids.
‘He used to scare the hell out of me,’ Keisha went on, ‘dragging that shopping trolley full of junk around, yelling bits of old poems and other stuff. Remember? He’d show up in my nightmares sometimes, shouting about doom and destruction and the end of the world.’
Rose nodded. ‘He used to scare me too.’
‘Well, next to your Doctor, Old Scary’s a cuddly teddy bear, ain’t he?’
‘Oh, come on!’
‘Rose, how can you bear him? In, like, five minutes he’s scared me more than I’ve ever been scared in my whole life. He’s poked me about, told me my eyes are gonna be oysters, I’m turning into an alien and my brain’s being messed with,’ She nodded, her lip curling. ‘Oh yeah, and he’s shown me that my so-called mate couldn’t care less if my brother’s dead.’
‘I do care!’
‘You mildly regret it, he said.’
‘It’s not like that. . . ’
Rose tried to take her hand, but Keisha
snatched it away. ‘Look, I know you’re upset but –’
‘Course you know. Rose Tyler knows everything these days since she’s taken up with her cute little weirdo.’ Rose caught the glitter of pearl in Keisha’s eyes. ‘Well, here’s something you don’t know.’
‘Keisha –’
‘The minute you went off travelling, right, Mickey came sniffing round me.’
Rose was floored. She stared at her old mate. ‘He never.’
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‘He did. He came round and he tried it on.’
‘Yeah?’ She folded her arms. ‘And what did you do?’
Keisha’s face clouded, she looked away. And in that moment Rose realised she already knew, and it was like someone kicking her inside.
‘What do you care anyway?’ said Keisha, suddenly back on the attack. ‘You just went off for a whole year with not a word, not a call.
Not even a text, for God’s sake!’
‘I thought I was coming back!’ she shouted.
‘And when you do get back, you still don’t bother calling, do you?’
‘Don’t twist this round! You’ve just told me that you. . . ’ Rose felt her throat burning. ‘That you and him. . . ’
‘Hey, hey, what’s happening?’
Rose turned to find Mickey rushing down the corridor, Vida just behind him. He looked worried.
With good reason. . .
‘How could you, Mickey?’ she said quietly. She said it again, lost for any other words: ‘How could you?’
Straight off, he knew what she was talking about. She saw the look on his face. Guilt, dismay, no fight in him.
‘It’s true, then,’ she said.
It was weird. Suddenly, the monsters, the alien plan, that was all background stuff. All she could think about was the horrible wrongness of Mickey being with one of her best mates.
Until the monsters came back.
Suddenly water flooded down from the ceiling, a ton of it, drenching them all. Rose was knocked to her knees, and Vida let out a shriek of surprise. Then the water seemed to thicken, and suddenly three threatening figures stood in the corridor.
One looked like a pirate. One looked like he’d parked his sub outside. The third was a woman in Victorian dress, who might once have been pretty. Now, like the others, her face was blotchy and bloated, eyes like enormous bulging pearls.
Keisha was already screaming. Mickey started forwards to tackle the pirate, but was knocked back by a powerful blow. ‘No!’ Rose shouted as he crashed against the wall and his eyes flickered shut.
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She grabbed the U-boat captain by the shoulders, and cringed as something cold and lumpy squished beneath her hands. That wrong-footed her, and he was able to shrug her off quite casually, sending her sprawling into Keisha. At least it shut up the screaming.
The Victorian girl and the pirate were already making for Vida, their backs hunched, arms outstretched. The U-boat man was following.
‘Run, Vida!’ Rose shouted. ‘It’s you they want!’
Vida had just twigged and was running back the same way she had come. As Rose scrambled up she saw the Victorian girl melt away, clothes and everything. A wave of water surged along the corridor, broke over Vida’s ankles, swept past her.
And suddenly the Victorian girl blinked back into existence, arms wide open, eyes bulging and blank. Vida gasped, tried to duck aside, but the girl snatched her up, held her tight despite her struggles. Rose sprinted over to help her, but the pirate turned and lashed out with the back of his hand. She parried the blow with both hands, gripped on to the white, wrinkled flesh of his fingers. It was like clutching maggots. The U-boat captain grabbed hold of her face, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. There was a pressure in her ears as if she was under water. She tasted the burn of saltwater in her throat. Her vision speckled with black.
And suddenly she was knocked aside by a huge rush of water.
Choking for breath, she was slammed into the wall as it sluiced past.
Blearily she saw a shape being swept away by the water, kicking and screaming. Vida, helpless as a child caught in a flood.
She vanished from view around the corner. Rose got up again and gave chase. She saw that the corridor was already bone dry. Mickey was still slumped against the wall, rubbing his head in a daze, but Keisha was on her knees, slack-jawed, staring after the bizarre kid-nappers.
‘Look after Mickey,’ she snapped. ‘And tell the Doctor!’
‘Don’t leave me, Rose,’ Keisha stammered. ‘They could come back.
What will I do if they come back?’
‘Why ask me? You just proved I don’t know a damn thing.’
‘But Rose –’
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‘We ain’t got time for this,’ she snapped, pelting after Vida. ‘Sort your life out, Keisha. No one’s gonna do it for you.’
‘Rose, you can’t go chasing that stuff.’
I’m not just giving chase, she thought guiltily. I’m running away.
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Eveninthemidstofherterror,Vidawonderedifshewasgoingbarking mad. She was being washed out of her own offices, towed along like driftwood in the rapids. It was just too surreal.
The main door had been left open. The steps, she thought in a panic, I’ll break my back. But the water seemed to solidify beneath her, made a kind of cushion as she slipped down on to the pavement.
She screamed, kicked and smashed at the water, but on it flowed down the street, carrying her away. Will it stop at the traffic lights?
she wondered distantly, trying to impose some kind of logic on her situation. Then she saw the gaping hole ahead. A manhole cover stood propped against a parked car.
Oh, please, this isn’t happening.
Helplessly, Vida plunged down into the blackness of the ‘ewer. She heard the splash but felt nothing. She knew the sewers carried rain-water as well as waste in a combined system. And where did these overflow channels lead?
Where else? Out into the Thames. . .
The water coiled round her like a cold cocoon, protecting her as it rushed her away. Is this what happened to you, Andrew? Her mind 111
fixed on the thought in the inky darkness. She was picking up speed, and tears began to ball in her throat. Maybe I’ll see you soon.
Rose ran out into the middle of the road and stared all around. ‘Vida?’
she yelled. But the road was deserted: no trails, no signs of life at all.
The street was quiet and empty.
The distant sirens sounded louder out here. They made a good soundtrack for her emotions. Where the hell had Vida gone? How could she just vanish? Rose started running again, in case she could maybe catch her up. It might have been a lost cause, but if truth were told she couldn’t face Keisha and Mickey right now. Didn’t even want to think about that. Swanning about on alien planets, she felt she had outgrown her former life; and yet this spiteful little home truth had grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and dumped her right back into the old days.
How could they. . . ?
She shook her head, kept on running, pushed herself harder. Vida needed help and fast. If the water aliens had meant to kill her, they could have got her back in the building. So they must need her alive for some reason. But why?
Whatever, five got you ten they would be taking her back to Stanchion House. And what could she do about it?
The blare of sirens was getting louder. As she neared the bottom of the road, an ambulance and a large police van screeched from out of a side street. It stood to reason they were heading for the river. And since she was too. . .
The vehicles slowed down at the red traffic lights, checking the roads were clear before speeding on their way. Rose seized the moment and ran up behind the police van. Steeling herself, she jumped up lightly on to the back bumper and gripped hold of one of the handles in the blank double doors.
‘Great, great plan, Rose,’ she muttered. But this was a matter of life and death. With luck they would stop just round the corner, at the sight of a blonde woman being carted down the street by a runaway puddle.
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‘Hang in there, girl,’ she murmured, both to Vida and to herself.
Then, clinging on for dear life, she found herself hitching a ride river-wards.
The Doctor struggled up from the lab floor, but it felt more like he was pushing himself up from some dark, distant sea bed. He wasn’t having this. ‘I’m. . . not. . . like. . . humans,’ he spat, pushing out the words with the last of his breath. ‘You. . . can’t. . . have. . . me.’
The water began to lose its strong taste. His mind began to clear.
He clamped his eyes shut, felt water squeeze out, nodded furiously, willing himself on. ‘Get out of me,’ he shouted, and at last he could breathe again. ‘Out!’ he roared.
His face and clothes were dry, as if the attack had never happened.
He rushed to the sink, but that was dry too. ‘Where are you?’ he yelled, turning on the taps. The water came out under enormous pressure, splashed out of the sink, soaked him properly this time, all over his waist and trousers.
‘Doctor!’
‘Mickey?’ The Doctor spun about to face him, glanced down. ‘OK, big wet patch on the trousers there. Looks dodgy, I know, but it’s not what you think.’
‘We were attacked,’ Mickey panted. ‘These jokers in fancy dress, they came out of the water.’
‘They did? Oh. Yeah. I’ll bet they did.’ The Doctor ran over to check on him. ‘Killing several birds with one wet stone. Reabsorb the water sample, try to suss me out since I’m not a local, and –’
‘They’ve taken Vida,’ said Mickey. ‘Just slooshed her away in a load of water, right out of the door.’
‘Rose went after her,’ Keisha added, cowering back out in the corridor.
‘Did she?’ The Doctor winced. ‘That wasn’t very wise. Brave and adorable, yes, but not wise.’
Mickey shot a look at Keisha. ‘Can’t say I blame her for not hanging round.’
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‘You just did,’ the Doctor said vaguely. ‘Come on, think. Why would they take Vida?’
‘How are we supposed to know what a puddle wants to do with its life?’ Then Mickey froze. ‘Hang on. This vice admiral bloke she was supposed to meet, ’cause her boss has gone missing. If she can’t meet him, she can’t blab, can she – and Crayshaw gets off the hook.’
‘I don’t think Crayshaw is too worried about some bigwig rapping his knuckles. But bigwigs do have their uses. . . ’
‘God, we were gonna tell you,’ said Mickey. ‘Crayshaw’s old – we’re talking 250 years old. He’s in the naval records, same bloke. Drowned at sea.’
‘The aliens got him,’ said Keisha fearfully. ‘But how can he be so ancient?’
The Doctor didn’t look surprised in
the slightest. ‘The human body is 70 per cent water, and salt’s a natural preservative. Throw in some alien biochemistry. . . ‘
‘He was wearing shades when we saw him,’ Mickey confirmed. ‘He must have pearls for eyes, like the ones who whacked me. He’s one of them.’
‘Let’s get to the Mickeymobile,’ the Doctor said. ‘We need to go to Stanchion House. These things will have taken Vida there.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I bet you anything they have! How much do you wanna bet? Anything! Ten, twenty, fifty. . . a quid?’
Mickey shook his head wearily. ‘So, what’re we gonna do?’
‘Break in, of course!’
‘But there’ll be soldiers everywhere!’
‘I want to go back home,’ said Keisha quietly. ‘I can’t deal with this.
Please take me back so I can wait for my mum.’
Mickey glared at her. ‘First we need to find Rose.’
‘Shouldn’t take long,’ said the Doctor brightly. ‘We’ll grab her on the way. She can’t have got far!’
‘Omigod, omigod, omigod.’ Rose was still clinging on to the back of 114
the police van. She kept wanting to bang on the doors to make it stop, but didn’t dare let go of the handles.
This had to rank as one of the dumbest things she’d ever done. Her heart was throbbing faster than the engine; the ground was blurring by – they had to be doing forty or fifty miles per hour around these streets. There was no sign of Vida anywhere and she had no feeling left in her fingers. Every time they took a corner her arms burned with the effort of keeping her balance.
But finally the van screeched to a halt near the river. Rose unhooked her fingers, tumbling to the ground with all the grace of a cartoon character who’s just run into a brick wall. Aching everywhere, she scrambled underneath the vehicle, just as the back doors were flung open and the boys and girls in blue piled out.
‘The driver was mad,’ said someone, a few feet away.
