Doctor Who BBCN17 - Sick Building (10 page)

‘Wonderful!’ the Doctor cried, hurrying towards the blazing hearth.

‘What a superb feature!’

His companions came clattering across the floor after him.

The flames in the grate roared and burst forward, as if they could grasp the Doctor up and burn him to cinders where he stood. They were a strange, lambent green.

The Doctor jumped back smartly. ‘Aha, mind the suit,’ he grinned.

‘Doctor. . . ’ Barbara said nervously. ‘This is, erm, this is the Domovoi. The spirit, heart and hearth of Dreamhome.’

The flames flashed and darted with seeming relish. They danced and held the three visitors entranced for a few moments. Then, two black eyes appeared in the midst of the incandescent fire. And a great black mouth opened up. A huge and mournful voice rang through the murky air: ‘Who have you brought here? What is the softbody? What does he want?’

The Doctor could feel Barbara shaking beside him. The cans were rolling about and thunking against her innards. Toaster’s blue bulbs were sparking repeatedly in nervousness. The Doctor decided he had best speak up for himself. ‘Forgive me if I don’t shake hands, Domovoi.

May I say what a treat it is, to meet a computer made out of fire?

That’s just brilliant. Quite brilliant.’

‘What do you want, softbody? Where is Tiermann? Why is Tiermann not here? I want Tiermann to come to me!’

‘Ah,’ said the Doctor. ‘I can see why you might want to see him. I’m sorry that I’m not him. I’m the Doctor, by the way. I’m just passing through. I saw the danger approaching this world, and we popped in

– my friend Martha and I – to see if we could be of help. . . ’

Barbara had mastered her nerves somewhat. Her electronic voice still quavered as she said, ‘That’s good isn’t it, Domovoi? He came to help us. The Doctor wants to help.’

‘Pah!’ roared the flames dismissively. ‘What use can he be to us now? Too late! It’s all too late! We have been living in a fool’s paradise. And the name of that fool is Tiermann. He led us to believe 66

that we would be here for ever! This was our home. We would be a family for ever.’

The Doctor found himself buffeted back by the blasting heat of the Domovoi’s wrath. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I need to get back to the surface.

Tiermann has trapped us down here. He’s going to leave us here, while he and his family escape in their ship. Now, our only hope –your only hope – is with me. You must get the elevator working again

– and send me up there. . . ’

‘What can you do?’ the flames crackled.

‘I have a ship of my own,’ the Doctor said.

Toaster and Barbara perked up at this. ‘Have you, Doctor? How big?’

The Doctor’s eyes gleamed. ‘Huge. Absolutely massive. Now, I can help. If you help me first.’

The Domovoi thundered: ‘I do not trust softbodies. They are treach-erous. They command you. You serve them. You provide them with everything they need. And then. . . when danger comes, when disaster strikes. . . what do they do? They make plans to abandon you.

They prepare to abscond. To leave you. To the tender mercies of the Voracious Craw. Do you know what happens to those left to the Voracious Craw?’

The Doctor nodded. ‘I do indeed. I’ve seen it happen. From a great distance away. And, if you don’t help me, Domovoi. . . we’re all going to see it rather closer up.’

Barbara could contain herself no longer. ‘Oh, please help him, Great Domovoi! He is a good man! I just know he is! He won’t betray us like Tiermann did! He will save us! Save us all!’

The Doctor shrugged worriedly. ‘Well, I’ll do my best. What else can I do?’ He grinned at the swirling vicious flames that formed the Domovoi. ‘I swear that I will try to help you all.’

The weird being in the fireplace mulled this over, and hissed and flashed as she thought. ‘Very well, Doctor. I will return you to the surface. With these two Servo-furnishings to help you.’

‘Thank you, Domovoi,’ the Doctor gave a little bow.

67

The fire crackled with laughter. ‘Don’t thank me yet. You do not know what I am planning to do next. . . ’

A door slid open at the other end of the sepulchral room.

‘Now,’ cried the Domovoi. ‘Leave me in peace! The elevator will return you to the surface. Go!’

As the Doctor and his friends headed for the lift, all three of them were somewhat perplexed by the ringing laughter that filled their ears. . . It was as if the Domovoi had taken leave of her senses. And, thought the Doctor, if that was true, it was very bad news indeed.

68

I
’m stuck in this place with someone crazy in charge,
Martha thought.

She watched Ernest Tiermann pacing up and down the plush carpet of the long drawing room. He was mumbling and muttering to himself and, every so often, dashing to check that the doors were locked or the windows sealed tight.

We’re all stuck here with him,
she thought. She looked at Solin and Amanda, who were perched awkwardly on tall-backed chairs across the room. They were waiting to take their lead from Tiermann. It was as if no one could do anything without his say-so.

I wouldn’t trust him to get anyone to safety,
Martha thought.
Not after
that scene in the kitchen with the horrible bear-thing.
Tiermann had only just got out of that by the skin of his teeth. He came swaggering after his family, bringing them in here and sealing the kitchen off, and he had been filled with a bilious bravado. Martha could see that he was as close to panic as the rest of them.

She caught Solin’s anxious eye at this point and he gave a tight, nervous smile. ‘Father. . . ’ he said, softly clearing his throat. ‘We really need to get to the ship. We can’t hide ourselves away down here. . . ’

Tiermann’s head whipped around. At first it was as if he didn’t 69

recognise his own son. Then his face softened. ‘You’re right. We have to get up on the roof.’

From deeper inside the house they could suddenly hear the muffled bangs and crashes of the bear’s continuing onslaught. It was the sound of the whole kitchen being trashed. With every noise Amanda Tiermann jumped in her seat.
She’s not going to get through this,
Martha suddenly thought.

The few Servo-furnishings locked inside the drawing room with them were very quiet and still. Walter the drinks cabinet seemed to be guarding the bolted main door. Martha didn’t trust any of those robots. She had seen: at any given moment they could go on the turn.

There was a crackling and a buzzing then, as Solin started tuning the view-screen on the wall once more. Several confusing views of the Dreamhome’s interior flashed across the screen. Amanda whim-pered at the scenes of devastation, one after the next. Roaring flames from the fiery barricade outside; smashed perimeter defences – and a terrible bear lumbering into the main hallway, getting its breath back.

Tiermann nodded grimly. ‘We need to command the Staff to get rid of that beast. And to put all of their efforts into policing the boundaries, while we get up to the roof. . . ’ He cast a swift glance at his wife.

‘I am afraid we will have to abandon everything here, my dear. All of our belongings. There is no time.’

She shrugged and stared up at him with dull eyes. ‘And that’s it?’

‘Pardon, my dear?’ Tiermann’s tone was rather steely. He was unused to his wife answering back.

‘What about her friend?’ Amanda nodded at Martha. ‘You placed him underground. Are we just going to leave him down there?’

Tiermann’s face twisted in frustration. ‘Of course we are! We haven’t got time to risk our own safety. . . for the sake of a saboteur!

And we have to leave all of our Servo-furnishings, too! Everything!

All that I have built and cherished through these years. . . ’ He snarled at his wife. ‘The loss of those things will hurt me far worse than the loss of the Doctor.’

Martha had expected no better of him, but it was still a shock to 70

hear his callousness spoken out loud like this. She was careful not to react. Tiermann would expect her to wail and moan and plead with him, but there was no way she was going to.

Martha knew things weren’t hopeless. She had too much faith in the Doctor – and in herself – to give up hope now.

Behind Tiermann, she noticed, Walter the drinks cabinet had given a small jerk of surprise as his master talked. The cabinet’s eyes burned a fiery red as Tiermann ranted. The mixers and spirit bottles and cocktail twizzle sticks set out on his flat head tinkled and shivered with a blend of fury and fright. But Tiermann never noticed that for a second, so concerned was he with the plight of his family.

Solin was on his feet now, retuning the screen and attempting to get a view of their spacecraft. ‘Did you get it all going?’ he asked his father earnestly. ‘Is it OK to fly?’

‘Of course it is,’ Tiermann said, with that swagger again. He was all bluster, Martha decided. How could anyone ever have trusted him with their lives?

Right now Amanda was looking as if she wished she never had. But Solin had never had any choice. Tiermann was his father. Solin had been born into this overly protected yet still perilous world.

Now Solin was facing up to his father. ‘What about Martha?’ he asked him steadily. ‘You’ve already written off her friend. You have given out his death sentence. But what about her? Is there room in the ship for Martha?’

Martha felt like telling him: don’t bother on my account. I wouldn’t come with you lot anyway. But she waited and watched Tiermann’s face gurn and curl with anger.

‘Of course she can come with us,’ he said at last, spitting out the words with utter insincerity. ‘Do you’ think I would leave an innocent girl to perish here alone?’

Solin didn’t let his gaze drop. ‘I don’t know, father. I hardly feel like I know you at all any more.’

Brave boy,
Martha thought.
Facing up to his bonkers dad like that.

They were all in Tiermann’s madhouse, she realised. He had created this monstrosity and they were at its mercy. And he himself didn’t 71

even know what was coming next.

She dropped this train of thought. Something had caught her eye.

Next thing she knew Martha had leapt to her feet. She thrust her finger at the giant view-screen. She let out a screech of sheer delight.

‘Look! Look at him!’

Amanda just about fainted with shock. ‘What is it?’ Solin and his father whirled to see what Martha was laughing and squawking about.

But she couldn’t help herself!

The screen was showing a wide view of the main entrance hall of the Dreamhome. The lift was working again. With no prior warning, its lights had started to flash and ping. Then the doors whooshed back, and the Doctor came bounding out, brandishing his sonic screwdriver.

He was manic and intent: all wiry limbs and boggling eyes. Behind him were two lumbering pieces of machinery – robots, which had accompanied him up from the depths, evidently.

But he was back! Martha punched the air. He was back upstairs!

Just like she knew he would be! ‘See, Tiermann?’ she laughed jubilantly, swinging round to face the old man. ‘The Doctor doesn’t need your help. Neither of us do.’

Tiermann’s gaunt face seemed almost disappointed. ‘Um, Martha,’

Solin said, nudging her attention back to the screen. ‘Don’t speak too soon.’

Turning back, she gulped.

The Doctor on the screen was coming face to face with the other major occupant of the gleaming entrance hall of the Dreamhome.

The bear-like creature was lowering its pearlescent horn in furious challenge. And it was preparing to charge directly at the Doctor and his new friends. . .

‘Hello, good morning, nice to see you there,’ gabbled the Doctor. He stared bravely into the slavering jaws of the ursine monster in the hallway. The creature’s horn was a matter of inches away from him, ready to run him through at any second. The Doctor knew he had to talk fast and distract it. And think of something! Think of some way 72

out of this! The stench from the beast was nasty and intense, and that was distracting in itself.

‘OK, all right,’ the Doctor cried, ‘I suppose you’re miffed to find out that, while you’ve been scavenging outside in the woods all these years, the Tiermann family have been living it up in here? In the lap of luxury! Having a whale of a time!’ The Doctor was raising his voice and growing more animated as he warmed to his theme.

The low rumble in the creature’s throat was growing louder and more ominous by the second.

‘Mind you don’t make him any crosser, Doctor,’ Barbara called nervously from behind him.

‘This is it, we’re dead,’ Toaster quailed. ‘What can we do? Shall I give him a flash of the old ultra-violet?’

‘The Doctor knows what he’s doing. . . ’ Barbara hissed.

The Doctor was glad of her faith in him. ‘You know, I once tamed a savage beast by singing lullabies to it. Aggedor, the Royal Beast of Pel ad on. You’ve got a bit of a look of him, you know. Shaggy, muscular, regal bearing, tiara. Dripping green saliva. What do you think? Shall I sing?’

The creature let out an ear-splitting roar. The blast of foul air from its lungs forced the Doctor backwards across the hall floor. The robots clattered in retreat. ‘Maybe not a lullaby,’ said the Doctor, backing steadily away now as the creature advanced.
It’s toying with me,
he thought.
It could reach out and kill me right now. But it’s moving slowly
towards me, ready to spring. . .
‘What about a ballad? Hmm? Or. . .