Doctor Who BBCN17 - Sick Building (9 page)

The Doctor laughed and switched off the screwdriver. ‘I reckon I’m done. That’ll get you back on your feet, Toaster.’

58

The sun bed flexed his four short legs as the Doctor stepped back.

‘I believe you’re right, Doctor! Brilliant! I feel like a new man! Right!

What next? What do we do now? I’m bursting with energy! This is brilliant! You – er – don’t fancy a tan, do you, Doctor?’

The Doctor considered it for a second. ‘No thanks, you’re all right.

I think our first priority is getting off this level, don’t you?’

Barbara moaned happily. ‘Oh, yes. Oh, say you can do it, Doctor.

Say you can get us out of here. . . ’

‘I’m not sure yet,’ the Doctor said. ‘But there’s bound to be a way, isn’t there?’

‘Even if that way isn’t up,’ Toaster suddenly said. He gave a sparking flash of blue light. ‘Er, that was a flash of inspiration.’

‘What do you mean, Toaster?’ asked Barbara.

‘We might have to go down, in order to get up,’ Toaster said.

‘I thought this was the lowest level,’ frowned the Doctor. ‘Level Minus Thirty-Nine.’

‘There is a lower level,’ Toaster said. ‘And that’s where we might find help.’

‘Help?’ said the Doctor.

‘Who from?’ asked Barbara. ‘You don’t mean from. . . ’

‘From the Domovoi,’ Toaster said. ‘She’ll help us, surely.’

Solin was the first to reach the kitchen area. When he got there, he couldn’t take in what was happening at first. He was so unused to technology failing and going wrong. The lights were flickering, which cast the room into fits of gloom. His mother had backed herself up against the glass doors at the far end of the room and she was sobbing uncontrollably.

She couldn’t tell the Servo-furnishings what to do. There were three of them, in the three standard sizes, going about their business in the centre of the room. One was feeding Amanda’s pills to the kitchen sink; and the other two were taking pieces of china out of one of the cupboards and carefully smashing them on the tiled floor, Just to add to the noise and the confusion, it seemed that every single device in the room was working at full tilt of its own accord. The taps 59

thundered into the sink, the microwave pinged madly and steam was churning out of the kettle.

‘Stop this at once!’ Tiermann roared, when he reached the doorway.

It was as if he thought that everything would respond to the sound of his voice.

Martha hurried over to Solin, who was trying to calm his mother.

‘It’s just a malfunction, Mum,’ Solin was saying.

Silence!’ howled Tiermann. ‘You will all be silent for your master!’

Amanda Tiermann struggled to control her panic. Her breathing slowed and she looked wildly at Martha and her son. ‘Everything is breaking down! Don’t you see? We depend on these things working.

We can’t survive with malfunctions! We are going to die!’

‘Mum,’ Solin said, taking hold of her. ‘It’s nothing bad. Just a few malfunctioning –’

But just at that moment Martha was staring out of the plate-glass windows into the garden. The ring of fire was still burning out there, but there was a bulky shape moving through the streaming flames, heading impossibly towards them. ‘Uh, Solin,’ Martha said. ‘This looks pretty bad, actually.’

The creature put its head down and came charging through the fire.

It tossed its huge ivory horn and thundered through the flames, arriving swiftly on the other side, and in the grounds of the Dreamhome.

The bear-like creature roared its triumph and swung round to stare at the house. Its savage eyes fixed straight on Martha, Solin and Amanda, standing in the tall window.

Martha jerked back at the sight of that sheer, animal greed.

‘They’re getting in,’ Solin whispered in a deathly voice.

60

The Doctor had been led to a secret exit, hidden away on Level Minus Thirty-Nine. Matter-of-factly, Barbara extended her telescopic arms and popped open the door, revealing a dusty and disused staircase. ‘Takes us down to Level Minus Forty,’ she said cheerily, ‘Home of the Domovoi, bless her.’ She and Toaster made as if to lead the way.

The steps looked quite steep to the Doctor: his new robot friends were going to have a tricky time lowering themselves down.

‘Who is this Domovoi?’ he asked. ‘Another Servo-furnishing? Someone who can help us fix the lift?’

‘Oh, no, no, no,’ Toaster said, his bulbs lighting up the gloomy stairwell as he chuckled. ‘You make her sound so humble and common-place. Oh, but she isn’t. She’s a marvel, is the Domovoi.’

‘Let me explain, Doctor,’ wheezed Barbara, angling her bulk around a narrow landing. Several cans of pop inside of her had fallen free and they were rolling about and thunking against her sides. The Doctor wondered if that hurt her. ‘The Domovoi is a computer,’ she said.

‘But, to put it that way does her a great disservice. She is Tiermann’s finest creation. She is the spirit and heart and intelligence of the Dreamhome itself. She controls everything. She is amazing.’

61

‘I see,’ said the Doctor. ‘I get it. Does she control all of you lot as well?’

Barbara looked somehow uncomfortable. ‘Not all the time. She could if she wanted. All of our minds are linked, you know. But, like any decent goddess, she allows us to have free will. Isn’t that lovely?’

‘Lovely!’ grinned the Doctor, wishing fiercely that his friends could hurry it up. They’d only managed it down about ten steps as they talked. For all her ungainliness, Barbara was proving more nimble than Toaster. With every step the sun bed took downstairs, the Doctor was gritting his teeth: imagining the glass of his body shattering everywhere.

‘And will the Domovoi help us?’ the Doctor said. ‘She is Tiermann’s creation. Surely she will do his bidding?’

Barbara looked at him very darkly. ‘Our minds are linked, Doctor.

I have an inkling of what the Domovoi is thinking. And she isn’t best pleased.’

‘No?’

‘Oh no,’ said Toaster. ‘Not at all.’

Barbara went on: ‘She thinks Tiermann is about to betray us all.

All of the Servo-furnishings. She has overheard him. She has eaves-dropped on his plans for the coming of the Voracious Craw. Whew.

Would you mind if we took a breather, while I tell you what I know?’

‘Go ahead,’ said the Doctor, trying to be patient.

‘Do you want some more crisps? No? Well, she’s absolutely livid.

She thinks Tiermann is going to leave us all behind. He has built more and more of the Servo-furnishings over the years. More than he ever needed, to do everything for his family. He gave us all intelligence, personality. And now there is no room for us in the spacecraft that will take him and his family to safety.’

‘It’s true,’ sighed Toaster. ‘There’s only enough room for the human beings. We’ve all checked. They won’t even be taking the robots that are still of use to them. Let alone us broken down, kronky old useless ones.’

‘I thought as much,’ said the Doctor.

‘We’re going to be left behind to face our doom,’ Barbara whispered, 62

her husky voice turning shrill. ‘What kind of reward is that for a lifetime of servitude?’

The Doctor had to agree. ‘It’s pretty shabby. And the Domovoi herself. . . Tiermann’s finest creation. . . she will have to be left behind as well?’

Barbara nodded warily. ‘Yes. I think I’m ready to move on now.

Come. We must go to face her.’ She turned to lead the way again.

‘You’re right, Doctor. The Domovoi is hardwired into the fabric of Dreamhome. She can never be moved. She is bound to die tonight.

And that very thought is driving both her and her creator insane. . . ’

Martha was the first to back away from the tall windows. She moved very swiftly across the shining kitchen tiles, kicking aside broken crockery. She called out to the others. They needed to move. The beast was obviously about to charge. But the Tiermann clan seemed frozen to the spot. They held their ground, as if amazed by the creature on the burning lawn.

‘Get back!’ Martha yelled at them. ‘Solin, tell them! We’ve got to move!’

Even from this distance it was as if the bear-creature on the lawn could hear her. As if it could smell them all inside the protective walls of the Dreamhome. It threw back its massive head and gave a blood-curdling cry that seemed to set the very floor vibrating. This was enough to bring Solin to his senses. He grabbed his mother’s arm and bundled her back towards the hallway, where the lights were flickering again.

His mother and father were struck dumb. His mother flopped her limbs like a puppet. The robots in the kitchen had ceased their point-less tasks and had gathered around Tiermann, who was still staring out at the brutish creature that had invaded his home.

‘Father, we must get away. . . ’ Solin shouted.

‘No!’ Tiermann bellowed. ‘This is my home! My domain! I will not be forced to flee from primitive beings such as this. . . thing!’

Martha led the way. ‘Leave him, Solin. Come on.’

‘My Staff will deal with the intruder!’ Tiermann cried. He whirled 63

to face the motley collection of malfunctioning kitchen robots. They gave a little jump at the sound of his voice. They were programmed always to respond to his ringing tones, and now, even with everything going haywire, Tiermann’s voice could still command them. ‘Kill the beast!’ he spat. ‘Protect the family!’

Martha thought the robots looked pathetic, compared with the creature out there. She pulled at Solin and his mother again, urging them to rush, as the bear-like creature charged and flung itself at the kitchen windows.

The room shuddered and Tiermann cried out. A great crack appeared in the glass. The creature drew back for another attempt. Its slavering jaws hung open and gnashed hungrily at the air. It was three times the size of Ernest Tiermann, but Tiermann stood there bravely and shouted back at it. ‘You have no place here! I built the Dreamhome to keep animals like you away from us! You will not get us now!’

The creature thrust its unicorn-like horn right into the fractured glass and the noise was ear-splitting. The great glass wall came crashing down and the beast’s massive, coarsely haired body surged into the kitchen.

Tiermann darted backwards. He urged his robots on. ‘Destroy it!

Destroy!’

The bravest robot – one whose sole employment thus far in its life had been to scrape root vegetables clean – trundled forward to face the beast. One great paw lashed out and – SMASH and CRUMPLE –the robot was reduced to scrap.

The other two hesitated, but knew they had no choice. The tablet robot and the dishwasher went to meet their fate.

Tiermann backed away quickly. ‘No, no, no, no. . . ’ He was pulling at his hair and beard madly, as if he could hardly believe that something had come into his home unbidden. He watched the screaming creature run its ivory horn through the medicine robot’s chest, and then he turned tail and ran, deeper into the house.

He had to seal off this wing of the Dreamhome. He had to bring the emergency shutters down. He had to regain control of this nightmare.

64

But where were his wife and son? Had they left him here? Had they vanished and left him to deal with this alone?

It felt very much like entering some holy inner sanctum. As the Doctor and his new friends at last arrived in the dimly lit recesses of Level Minus Forty, he was aware of a very strange atmosphere. Toaster and Barbara had become very quiet, and they were heading purposefully towards their goal, but with a measured and respectful tread. The ambience of the place made the Doctor want to take off his shoes and socks, or remove his hat (had he been wearing one) out of respect.

Burning torches lit their way (but who lit them? Who else occupied this strange level?) and there was a musky smell of burning incense.

One last pair of double doors greeted them at the end of the final corridor. They were covered with intricate designs in scrolling iron-work. Barbara turned to the Doctor and said, in a muted voice: ‘We are about to enter into the heart of Dream home. You must beware, Doctor. Hardly any softbodies are allowed to enter here. You must tread very carefully.’

He blinked at her. ‘“Softbodies"?’

Toaster harrumphed. ‘Barbara means organic beings, of course.

She’s using Servo-furnishing slang.’

‘I keep myself nice and trim, I’ll have you know,’ the Doctor protested. ‘Softbody, indeed.’

‘You would find out how soft your body is,’ Toaster warned, ‘should the Domovoi decide to crush it.’

The Doctor swallowed. ‘Erm, powerful, is she?’

Toaster flickered with blue light. ‘She is the most powerful being on this world. She controls all.’

The Doctor sighed. ‘Well, I always believe in taking your problems straight to the very top.’ He stepped forward briskly and, without further ado, threw open both doors. ‘Especially when the very top is at the very bottom, so to speak.’

Barbara muttered another warning, about approaching with due reverence, but it was too late. The Doctor was marching into a wide and gloomy room. The walls and floor were a glossy metallic green 65

and, at the far end of the room, there was what appeared to be a vast fireplace.