Doctor Who_ Night Of The Humans Part 2

The older Sittuun looked at her with an expression of condescension and shook his head.

'Dad...' said Charlie awkwardly. 'Speak human, please. We have a guest.'

'We have a prisoner, Baasim! snapped his father. He turned to Amy. 'What kind of translation were you expecting, girl?

Vocal modulator? Telepathic field? Those things don't work on our language. Tell me... Who are you? Where did you come from? The human city?'

'My name's Amy Pond,' said Amy. I'm from Leadworth.

It's near Gloucester.'

'Gloucester? What is Gloucester?'

'It's a town.'

'But where?'

'Er... Planet Earth?'

'You're from Earth? Planet Earth? You know that you're from Earth?'

30.'Er... Yes? I'm human, and I'm from Earth. Is that so weird?'

The three Sittuun looked at one another in surprise.

'Remarkable! said Charlie's father, his tone still hesitant and condescending. 'Well, isn't that something? She might just be telling the truth.' He turned to Amy once more. 'I am Captain Jamal al-Jehedeh of the Beagle XXI. Follow me, Amy Pond. I'd like to know how you ended up here.'

Amy sat on the edge of a bed in the medical bay while another Sittuun, who introduced herself as Dr Heeva, inspected her for cuts and bruises. They had given her a bowl of soup that tasted strangely of chemicals but not food, and the four of them now stood around her, looking at her as if she were a sideshow exhibit or an animal in a zoo.

'It's certainly far-fetched! said Captain Jamal to Dr Heeva. 'I mean... Time machines. Alien Time Lords. s.p.a.ce whales.

Intergalactic felons. What do you think?'

'Possibly concussion! replied Heeva. 'But she's not like the others, is she? She doesn't look like them. She doesn't talk like them.'

'Er, h.e.l.lo?' said Amy, waving her hand in the air. 'I'm still here?'

The four Sittuun looked at her with something resembling embarra.s.sment.

31.'So! she continued, 'I've given you my life story in a nutsh.e.l.l. How about you lot? What are you doing here? And what is this place, anyway?'

'This is Object 556/C.' said Captain Jamal. 'But we call it the Gyre. It's been here for maybe three thousand centuries.

Shipwrecks and refuse brought together by the gravitational force of the five nearest stars.'

'Gravitational forces!' Amy said with a smile. 'That's what the Doctor said!'

"The Doctor?' asked the Captain.

'Her friend! explained Charlie. He lowered his voice. 'He was the one taken by the humans.'

'Ah. I see. Well, yes, as I was saying, the Gyre has been here for three hundred thousand Earth years, at least. Growing bigger and bigger, year after year. It's only posed a problem in recent months. Ships pa.s.sing near it began encountering navigational problems. The gravitational force of the Gyre itself is beginning to have an effect on the nearest planet's...o...b..t. And then there's the comet...'

'Schuler-Khan?'

Captain Jamal frowned at Amy and then nodded. 'Yes! he said, sounding vaguely surprised. 'That's right. Schuler-Khan.

Now... Schuler-Khan's...o...b..t around Battani 045 lasts eighty-five years, and on previous occasions it has missed the Gyre altogether. But not this time. The gravitational pull has changed the comet's course and, in only a few 32 hours' time, Schuler-Khan will crash straight into the Gyre.

Which is why we're here.'

Amy sat on the bed, dumbstruck for a moment. She put down the bowl of soup and leaned forward. 'You mean to tell me you came here just to see it get hit by a great big comet?'

Captain Jamal shook his head. 'No, not at all. We came here to destroy the Gyre. If Schuler-Khan hits the Gyre it will send chunks of debris the size of cities spinning off through s.p.a.ce.

There are twelve inhabited worlds within twenty-five million miles, including our own. The impact on them will be devastating. Our mission was to detonate a Nan.o.bomb in the Gyre's upper atmosphere, thereby neutralising the threat.'

'A Nan.o.bomb?' Amy winced. 'That doesn't sound good.'

'It's fine, really' said Charlie, trying to sound rea.s.suring. 'It releases Nanites which eat up all the metal and plastic in a matter of seconds. Eventually all that's left is atoms. The Nanites even destroy themselves.'

'So what went wrong?'

'We crashed,' said Captain Jamal. 'As we were nearing the Gyre our systems crashed, and then so did this ship.' He paused, looking down at the tiled floor of the med bay. 'We thought there was nothing here,' he went on. 'Ships had been pa.s.sing this thing for millennia. No one thought it was 33 inhabited. No one thought it could be. There were no signs of life. But then we got here...'

Dr Heeva stepped in, looking at Amy directly. 'They must have been shipwrecked! she said. 'Thousands of years ago.

Hundreds of thousands, maybe.'

'Who? Who were shipwrecked?'

Captain Jamal looked up at her, his expression solemn. 'The ones who kidnapped your friend,' he replied. "The humans.'

34.

Chapter.

3.

The gully was dark and narrow. To either side, two walls of sc.r.a.p rose up, cutting down the dark blue sky to a narrow sliver and, every so often, small fragments of metal would come tumbling down into their path, kicking up clouds of dust. and narrow. To either side, two walls of sc.r.a.p rose up, cutting down the dark blue sky to a narrow sliver and, every so often, small fragments of metal would come tumbling down into their path, kicking up clouds of dust.

The Doctor's wrists were bound tight in front of him with a thick and grubby length of rope. One of the humans walked behind, the tip of his spear trained right between the Doctor's shoulder blades, its sharpened point nudging him whenever he walked a little slower.

Eventually the canyon opened out onto the edge of a vast gorge, perhaps two hundred metres across, and unfathomably deep. Crossing the ravine was what looked, at first, like an enormous 35.metal bridge. Only as they got closer could the Doctor recognise it as a pipe, ten metres or so in diameter. It was ancient, its rusting trunk draped with creeping green vines.

'That's the exhaust off a Proamonian dreadnaught...' said the Doctor. 'Do you know something? You could make a fortune recycling this place. You know, Proamonians only ever built their ships out of proamonium? Rarest mineral in the universe, proamonium. Only found on Proamon, funnily enough.'

'Silence!' shouted the human with the spear. 'You do not speak.'

The Doctor looked back to see his malevolent glare, and the human bared his teeth, grunting and snarling, and nudging the Doctor once more with his spear.

'Ah!' the Doctor gasped. 'Easy... easy... That's actually quite painful, you know.'

They were crossing the pipe now, the sound of their marching clanging and echoing beneath them. To either side of this makeshift bridge, the gorge descended into complete darkness, its depths enshrouded in a perpetual gloom.

The Doctor looked around at his captors and sighed. How long had they been here, on this floating disc of s.p.a.ce junk? They were human, he could tell that much, but he doubted any human being on Earth would recognise them as their own.

36.At the other end of the bridge they entered a murky swamp of dark green sludge, from which emerged hundreds, if not thousands, of corrugated plastic tubes, like an artificial bamboo forest. The humans, the Doctor noticed, were growing edgy and cautious, and they made their way into the swamp with slow, deliberate steps. All around them the plastic tubes dipped and swayed, chiming against one another like percussion instruments, and the stagnant breeze sang over their open necks like a ghostly choir.

From nearby they heard a sudden heavy splash, and everybody froze.

'Sollog! whispered one of the humans, his eyes darting from side to side.

'Sollog,' said another, drawing a battered-looking sword from its scabbard.

'Er... Who... or what is Sollog?' asked the Doctor, but n.o.body answered him.

There was another splash, and now he heard something else. Something guttural and animalistic, almost like a belch, or the sound of a bullfrog.

Another splash. And then another.

The human with the sword was turning now, searching desperately for the source of those sounds, his expression one of outright terror. His hands shook as he gripped the weapon's handle and his jaw was trembling.

'What's Sollog?' the Doctor asked, more 37 insistently now, but the human didn't answer him. He was looking over the Doctor's shoulder, his eyes growing wide and his mouth opening for a scream he'd never start.

The creature that leapt on him was at least a metre long, the trunk of its body like that of a monstrous slug, and its eyes jutted out on slimy stalks. Unlike a slug, it propelled itself on eight long and spindly legs, which protruded from its sides.

It struck the human with such force that it pushed him down under the water in a split second, its legs wrapped around his head and upper body. The stricken man thrashed around under the surface of the swamp, but n.o.body would help him.

More of the creatures, the Sollogs, were emerging from the fetid green waters of the swamp. They climbed the plastic tubes and propelled themselves along with terrifying agility.

One of the humans. .h.i.t one with a shot from his crossbow, but was then taken down when another of the creatures leapt onto his back; its gaping maw filled with circular rows of sharp teeth opening wide above his head.

Without a moment's hesitation, the humans began running further into the swamp, the plastic tubes chiming around them.

The Doctor ran as best he could with his hands still tied, but then he heard a heavy splash. He turned round and saw the human who had nudged him along with a spear 38.lying face down in the water.

Crouching, and with a great deal of difficulty, the Doctor grabbed the human by the arm and turned him over. The human coughed up a mouthful of water, wriggled free of the Doctor's grasp, and began searching in the swamp for his spear.

The rest of the group were far away now, still running through the forest of plastic tubes, their yelling and screaming getting quieter by the second. The Doctor and his captor were alone, but for the Sollogs, which were drawing around them in an ever-tightening circle.

'Cut the rope,' said the Doctor, holding up his bound wrists.

The human shook his head.

'Cut the rope or we are going to die,' insisted the Doctor.

The human looked around at the seven or eight Sollogs that were crawling and slithering from one pipe to the next. He turned to the Doctor and, drawing a small knife from his belt, proceeded to hack through the rope, freeing the Doctor's hands. The Doctor reached inside his jacket, and the human flinched, holding the blade a little closer to his face.

'Easy... easy...' said the Doctor, drawing out his sonic screwdriver.

Close by, one of the Sollogs let out a terrifying hiss. The human jumped, but the Doctor remained 39.calm, grabbing the nearest plastic tube, and placing the tip of the screwdriver against its corrugated sh.e.l.l. As the device chirruped into life there came, from the open mouth of the pipe, a deafening, ba.s.s-heavy drone. The Doctor pulled down the pipe, holding it under his arm as if it were a gun, and aimed it at the Sollogs. The throbbing sound pulsated out of the pipe, causing everything in its path to quiver and shake, and the Sollogs began screeching and mewling, before scurrying away from them.

The Doctor let out a brief, almost nervous laugh, as if amazed his plan had worked. Then, when the Sollogs were a safe distance away, he grabbed the human by his wrist, and dragged him off across the swamp.

'What was that?' asked the human, breathlessly.

'That was improvisation! the Doctor replied. 'And all things considered, I think it went rather well.'

Eventually they were clear of the swamp and racing across a glittering white desert. Behind them the Sollogs clung to the swaying plastic tubes, but they came no further. Turning on his heels the Doctor watched them ma.s.sing at the edges of the swamp, hissing and screeching. Why weren't they still chasing them? He looked down at the crunchy white crystals at his feet.

'Salt,' he realised. 'It's a salt plain.'

40.He would have smiled with relief were he not thinking about Amy. Amy Pond, who was somewhere, far beyond the swamp and the canyon. Alone on a world as dangerous as this.

He had to get back to her, somehow, but his thoughts were interrupted as he felt his wrists pressed together, and the all-too-familiar sensation of rough rope being tied around them. The human he had just saved was binding them together once more, and had the tip of his dagger pointed towards the Doctor's face.

'Oh, well that's just charming,' said the Doctor. And I thought we were friends.'

'You are not my friend,' grunted the human. 'You are my prisoner. Now start walking.'

They made their way towards those who had escaped from the swamp moments before them. In the distance, beyond the rest of the group, the Doctor saw a dark shape rising up against the perpetual night, an enormous hulk that shimmered at first, like a mirage. Only as they drew nearer did he recognise it as the wreckage of a s.p.a.ceship.

Though it was half buried in the surface, it rose up a quarter of a mile from the ground, like an iron finger pointing at the sky. Along its side was painted a single word, GOBO, and next to it the image of a cartoon clown with bright blue hair and a crimson, rictus grin.

As they neared the hulk, the Doctor heard the 41 sound of drumming and saw blazing torches lined up along fortified ramparts. All around the wreck there were makeshift buildings: tin shacks and huts; ramshackle turrets and cobbled-together shelters - a city made of junk. A fanfare of discordant, atonal horns greeted them from the watchtowers along the city's outer walls, and the doors of an immense iron gate groaned open. The drumming grew louder still as they approached, pa.s.sing through the gate and into the city, and then the doors slammed shut behind them with a heavy clang.

When they saw him, the humans in the city began to hoot and bellow, jumping up and down and beating their chests. A small child, its eyes glowing with feral intensity, ran up to the Doctor and kicked him in the leg. Another threw a clod of dirt at his head, narrowly missing him. His captors shooed them away with their spears, and took him further into the city.

The buildings that surrounded them looked impossibly ancient and run-down, as if they had been fashioned as emergency shelters in a crisis, many centuries ago, but had since fallen into disrepair. The rooftops were rusted and sagging, columns bowing beneath their weight. The whole place stank of smoke and rotting food.

They came at last to the upturned hull of an old deep-s.p.a.ce shuttle. Its sh.e.l.l, which would once have been white and emblazoned with the livery 42.of whichever s.p.a.ce agency had sent it, was now painted, from end to end, with primitive graffiti. Over and over again, the Doctor saw a childish interpretation of the clown's grinning face.

A door in the shuttle's hull swung open with a gasp, and a human climbed out: a short man with long, greasy black hair cascading down his hunched back like a river of tar. One side of his face was tattooed with tiger patterns and his features were pinched and rat-like. He walked with the a.s.sistance of a gnarled black staff, at the top of which was a human skull. On seeing the Doctor he laughed in a series of short, staccato cackles, clasping his hands together with glee. His fingernails were long, brown talons.

'Ah, Sancho...' he rasped. 'What do we have here?'

'We have a prisoner, Tuco,' said Sancho, the human soldier who the Doctor had saved. 'We caught him.'

'Yes. A prisoner. Yes,' hissed the tattooed human. 'Yes. Tuco likes this very much. Yes. A prisoner.'

Tuco approached the Doctor now, inspecting him from head to toe. He reached out, dragging one of his claw-like fingers the length of the Doctor's face, from his forehead to his chin, and the Doctor followed the course of his finger with his eyes but remained stoic.

'Ha ha!' cackled Tuco. 'He has a funny face! But 43 he's not Sittuun, no?'