by Barry Letts
Mother Hilda’s way is not only weak, it’s inefficient. Don’t you agree?’
‘You know I do. But... but murder...’
Alex held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Okay, okay!
You win! My dear Dafydd, believe me when I tell you that I’m full of admiration for the integrity of your morals. I promise you, you won’t be involved. Just bring him here. Bring him here - and then go and have your breakfast. That’s all I’m asking of you!’
Dafydd opened his mouth to speak; and closed it again.
Got him! ‘Good man! I knew I could count on you!’
Dafydd shook his head, still worried. ‘What do you want me to tell him?’ he said.
After he’d left, Alex found a good place to hide, and settled down to wait. He was back on course. Though he’d have to watch Dafydd afterwards. It might be a good idea to get rid of him too, before his squeamishness really screwed things up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The journey through the jungle seemed interminable. Every few feet the Doctor would stop. For a moment or two he would be as still as if he were made of stone, listening.
Nodding to Sarah, he’d set off again, with only a soft rustle, which merged into the background noise of the birds and the squeaks and grunts of unidentifiable animals.
Sarah found it difficult not to add a few squeaks of her own. Something very odd was going on. Although they were crawling over a soft carpet of leaves and powdery sand, her bare legs and arms were objecting strongly, as if they were being scratched. When she had an opportunity to take a quick look, she saw that her limbs were covered in a network of marks, and some of them were oozing blood. Yet, when they stopped again, and she snatched another glimpse, her skin was as clear as it ever was.
She tried to catch the Doctor’s attention, but he didn’t even notice.
At last, they arrived at the edge of the greenery, just beyond the tables with the remains of yesterday’s feast, where the golden sand led up to the beginning of the two rows of little white villas each side of their shady avenue of flowers and palms. By now the sun had risen, and the red-gold light and the low defining shadows gave the scene before them a dimension of fairy-tale charm, and yet it was too aesthetically satisfying to be chocolate-box sentimental.
The Doctor held up his hand in warning. Down by the edge of the beach, next to the rock where they had landed the day before, stood one of the tall guards. As he shaded his eyes against the eastern sun, he was gazing across the still blue water of the lagoon at the anchored Hallaton and speaking into a walkie-talkie. He was too far away for them to make out his words, but he could have been doing nothing else than reporting on the few early birds who were now moving about the deck. Just as well that they’d set off in the near-darkness before the dawn.
The Doctor beckoned her over to him, and held a finger up to his lips.
She inched over, and saw that there was another guard, walking slowly down the yellow road, glancing from side to side as if checking that the inhabitants of the chalets were still abed, and scanning the edges of the beach.
‘Got your camera?’ the Doctor breathed into her ear.
In answer she hauled the case into view, opened it and took out the clunky great Polaroid. Oh, for her faithful old miniature!
‘Get a shot of the street,’ he went on.
What? Well, if that’s what he wanted. Easier said than done, with that flipping guard keeping such a sharp eye on everything.
Moving very slowly, she pushed the camera out to the full extent of her arms, and lined it up as best she could without looking through the viewfinder.
As soon as he’d heard the click of the shutter, the Doctor backed silently into the shadow of the undergrowth behind them, indicating with a flick of his head that she should follow. Once they were safely out of sight, she sat up to find out what sort of shot she’d managed to take.
What was he on about?
As she tucked the pack under her arm to speed up the developing, she started to ask him in a whisper, but again he put his finger to his lips.
Oh well. All would become clear. Perhaps.
It was quite safe. Those men were much too far away to hear them. He really could be the most infuriating...
Hang on, she thought as she peeled away the top layer of the print and watched the image as it darkened. She must have put in a used cassette.
This wasn’t the shot she’d just taken, the street of cottages, golden in the morning sun, with its double row of palm trees.
She was looking at a street of buildings, yes, but they were nasty little huts, seemingly cobbled together out of old driftwood, patchy brown and sickly green with lichen and moss; and the road was a track of rutted mud and broken rocks, bordered with a few spiky bushes and the odd moth-eaten old palm.
She’d never seen this place in her life, so how could it have been in her camera? She looked up, and saw that the Doctor, with a very serious face, was holding out his hand for the print.
When he’d taken a look, he gave a nod, as if the image was no surprise to him; and then, seeing her puzzlement, he showed it to her again, and silently pointed to a figure standing in the middle of the rutted track.
It couldn’t be!
But it was. It was quite plainly the second guard in his white robe. With a shock that seemed to blank out every other thought, she realised that there could be only one explanation.
It was nonsense to say that the camera never lied, but on this occasion it was telling her the simple honest truth. She was looking at a picture of the real Stella Island. The romantic view they’d seen only minutes before, the island paradise of yesterday, was nothing but an illusion, a hallucination, manufactured by her drug-fuelled brain.
‘No, I’m not sure. It was only a glimpse,’ said Dafydd.
Maybe Brother Will would mistake the shakiness of his voice for the anxiety he would naturally feel if the sailors were really gathering for an attack. As Dafydd had expected, Will was already out of bed and having his breakfast. He was dressed in his best white robe, ready for this important day.
As the right hand of Mother Hilda, he would be largely responsible for the organisation of the ceremony.
What were you doing out there anyway? Will asked.
‘Oh... I was out for a walk. And then I saw them. I can’t be sure. But they certainly looked like the men from the ship.’
‘Mm... I find it difficult to believe, Brother. Their brains must still be enfolded.’
Will was right, the whole ship’s company would be under the influence of the juice for hours to come. This wasn’t going to work! Alex had persuaded Dafydd against his will, and now he was going to be in trouble, real trouble.
‘Yes, that’s why I was so surprised,’ he said. ‘But I thought I’d better let you know.’
Will sighed and got up from the table. ‘I suppose I’ll have to come and have a look. Show me where you saw them. Are you suggesting that they might climb the cliff face?’
A reprieve!
‘It seems unlikely, I know,’ said Dafydd, as he led Will out of the door. ‘But it wouldn’t be the first time. Remember General Wolfe and the Heights of Abraham.’
That’s what Alex had said.
Will, who was taking out his walkie-talkie, gave him an exasperated look. ‘What the heck are you on about now?’
‘Seventeen fifty-nine. The year of victories.’
Will gave a grunt. ‘Oh, history. Load of shit.’
As they came out through the immense wooden doors of the temple, he spoke into the handset. ‘Attention all units!
Those near the foot of the mount, proceed to the cliff side.
Intruders reported.’
Even more reason to get out of sight quick, thought Dafydd.
* * *
The next shot the Doctor wanted her to get was one of the temple. But that, too, was easier said than done. To start with, it was nearly a mile away - and they could hardly dance like Dorothy and her friends u
p the yellow-brick road. In any case, thought Sarah, according to the Polaroid it was really more of a mule-track, like the one they’d come across in Anatolia, when Jenny took the wrong turning. For that matter, the guard showed no sign of moving off. And there’d bound to be some of his mates scattered along the way.
So they had to make their way through the jungle, which turned out to be more difficult than one might think.
Clambering up and down the sandy slopes, and fighting through the thick vegetation in the dips between, was extraordinarily tiring.
But even worse, there would be moments, brief flashes, when the trees, the beautiful flowering bushes and the lush undergrowth seemed to vanish and in their stead she found herself struggling with thorny shrubs, and the scent of tropical flowers was transmuted into the stink of the guano that covered the rocks at their feet. At first, it lasted only a fleeting moment at a time, but as it happened more and more often, it lasted longer, and in the end took over completely.
The Doctor glanced round at her. ‘It’s wearing off,’ he said, and ploughed on.
They must have been nearly there, when everything became too much. The effort of moving at all, together with the turmoil in her mind, brought Sarah to a halt.
‘I’m sorry, Doctor,’ she gasped, as he showed no signs of stopping for a rest, ‘I’m knackered! You’d better go on without me. Here, take the camera.’
‘Of course not,’ he said, immediately turning back. ‘How very thoughtless of me. We can’t waste time, but a few minutes either way won’t make a scrap of difference.
‘Here, come and sit down,’ he went on, indicating a convenient rock.
After a moment, she couldn’t help blurting out what was uppermost in her thoughts. ‘What is going on, Doctor? Is it a sort of hypnotism, or what?’
‘Keep your voice down,’ he said, with a glance in the direction of the road.
‘Sorry,’ she said in a half-whisper. ‘But I’m thoroughly con-fused. We all saw the same things didn’t we? I mean, everybody gets different trips on acid and stuff, don’t they?
So how can it be the effect of the juice, or the mist?’
‘I’m not absolutely certain myself yet,’ he said after a pause. ‘A whole world has been constructed. As you say, we all experienced it. It’s not the first time I’ve come across something of the sort. In fact, you’ve seen it yourself.’
‘You mean the Experienced Reality thing on Parakon?’
‘That’s right.’
‘A sort of telepathic computer, wasn’t it?’
‘More accurately, a radiated matrix of modulated psycho-magnetic beams.’
Well, of course it was. How stupid of her not to know that!
‘So this is the same sort of thing?’ she asked.
The Doctor shook his head. ‘It can’t be. None of the requisite conditions are here. In any case, that was purely a visual and auditory illusion. Don’t forget, you actually ate some of that food yesterday.’
‘You mean... all the fruit and stuff wasn’t real?’
‘Oh, it was real, all right. It would have been something different, that’s all.’
This didn’t sound too good. ‘Different? What do you mean?
What, for example?’
‘Oh, seaweed, old leaves, slugs, that sort of thing.’ He laughed when he saw her face. ‘Very nutritious,’ he said. He stood up. ‘Ready?’
She hauled herself to her feet.
As ready as she’d ever be.
* * *
‘Funny place to come for a walk,’ said Will, as they came out onto the clifftop. ‘I just wanted a breath of fresh air,’ replied Dafydd, leading the way along the edge.
‘Mm. Bloody stupid if you ask me.’
Dafydd didn’t answer. He’d be glad to see the back of Brother Will. He’d always been a bully.
‘It’s vanished!’
They had risked going through the gap in the rocks that, the day before, had taken them to the clearing at the foot of the great marble staircase.
‘I mean to say! How could we have climbed it, if it wasn’t there?’ said Sarah in a half-whisper.
‘All perception has a large input from the various structures of the brain,’ the Doctor replied, equally quietly.
‘The raw sense perceptions would never mean anything. They have to be recognised, and categorised. And a lot more than fifty per cent of that process is a matter of making new clay fit into the old mould.’
‘But if there’s nothing there to be recognised...?’
‘There’s a track, isn’t there? And your brain was manipulated in some way by your Skang friends.’
‘No friends of mine,’ muttered Sarah.
The Doctor didn’t reply, but silently pointed upwards.
Of course. The temple had disappeared as well. Instead of the graceful pillars that had so elegantly crowned the summit, there was nothing but a few piles of boulders.
Now, why should she feel so sad? Yesterday, the tears had sprung to her eyes at the very beauty of what they were seeing. But now she felt as if she’d lost something... no, somebody. It was like grieving for a dead friend.
She pulled out the Polaroid, and took a shot. Whether it would convince the Brig was doubtful. Everything looked so different it hardly seemed that they were in the same place.
* * *
‘There. Where that bit sticks out. That’s where I was standing when I saw them. Just below there, right at the bottom in the undergrowth.’ Would he take the bait?
With a sceptical look at Dafydd, Brother Will strode across to the very edge and peered over.
Now! Slip away into the bushes, and try not to notice him as he turns to comment; and try not to hear the sound of the running footsteps, and the gut-wrenching yell that follows, only to be abruptly chopped off.
In the awful silence afterwards, Dafydd scurried back the way they’d come, in a total panic, as if he were being chased.
‘Oh, my God!’
The Doctor had turned back at the sound of the scream.
‘What? What was it?’
‘A man! I saw a man falling!’
‘From the top?’
‘Must have been. Come on!’ Sarah took off along the track that had been cleared at the bottom of the cliff.
‘Sarah, come back!’
But if she heard his hoarse shout, she took no notice.
Good grief! If the guards saw her, they’d be in real trouble.
The Doctor gave a quick look round, and ran after her as she disappeared around the corner.
It was typical of Sarah. It wouldn’t be the first time her impulsiveness had led them into real danger. Nobody could survive a fall like that. He’d be smashed into a bloody mess.
She was going to be very shaken by what she found.
But even the Doctor was utterly taken aback by what he saw when he caught her up.
Her shoulders heaving as she tried to get her breath, she was looking incredulously at the body at her feet. It was dressed in the flowing white robe of a teacher. The legs and feet were hidden by the undergrowth, but the upper torso and the head had landed on the path, face down. It wasn’t a man at all. It was a Skang.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘I... I don’t get it,’ said Sarah. I’d swear this is where he fell.’
The Doctor was squatting down beside the alien corpse, turning it over to examine its features more closely. ‘It’s amazingly light in weight,’ he murmured. He put out a hand to close the great staring eyes. He touched the proboscis and looked closely at its needle tip.
He looked up at Sarah. ‘Are you sure that this wasn’t what you saw?’
‘Quite sure. It was a man. I only got a glimpse, but there’s no way I could have made a mistake. I mean, look at the size of its head.’
It certainly didn’t seem likely.
The Doctor stood up. His face was grave. ‘You know what this means, don’t you? You’d better get a shot of it.’ But before she could even get the camera out,
his head snapped round.
Voices. Somebody was coming.
As they crouched in the shadow of the nearest bush, hardly concealed, the words became clear. An Australian voice:
‘...round the entire perimeter. What about you?’
‘Niente. Not a thing. I think Signor Cabot is maybe a little punch-drunk, eh?’
The voices were getting nearer. Sarah shrank back, as if to hide herself more. The Doctor pressed her arm to stop her moving.
Whoever they were, they were just around the corner.
There was no hope of getting away. Their only hope was to keep as still as possible.
‘The sooner the Limey ship gets going, the sooner I’ll...’
Two guards had come round the corner and stopped dead.
‘Holy cow!’ said the Australian.
Not exactly an appropriate reaction from a devotee, thought the Doctor. And as for the other crossing himself...
‘Madonna mia! It’s... him...!’ he breathed.
They both knelt down and the Aussie reverently touched the Skang as if to make sure that it was real.
‘He is dead, isn’t he?’
‘You’d better believe it, Giovanni, me old cobber.’ As he spoke, he was digging out his walkie-talkie. ‘Brother Will, this is Brother Ed. Do you read me? Over?’
No reply.
‘Brother Will, come in please. Over.’
Giovanni looked up, startled. ‘Say that again!’
‘What?’
‘Say something, anything. Keep talking.’
‘What you on about?’
‘Do it.’
He shrugged and spoke into the handset. ‘Mary had a little lamb. One two three four five...’
As he spoke, Giovanni was feeling through the robe of the dead Skang, and soon pulled out another handset, which announced its presence with the piercing shriek of howl-round.
The counting stopped. In the silence, the two guards looked at each other, nonplussed.
