Doctor Who_ The Tomorrow Windows Part 11

'What?' Fitz didn't follow.

'The Doctor's right,' admitted Charlton, scratching his beard. 'I have. . .

used them in the past. That's how I got all this.' He indicated the table, the carpet and the windows. 'I'm not a really clever person, you see. I used the Windows to make some investments, right? And I became a, well, whoops! A billionaire.'

Fitz asked, 'Didn't anyone get suspicious? Someone having no idea what they're doing ending up immensely rich?'

'Apparently it happens all the time. Anyway, I didn't always get it right.'

'Oh, you made mistakes to cover your tracks?'

61.'No,' said Charlton. 'It's just that sometimes I got confused. I did say I wasn't very clever.'

'Exactly,' said the Doctor. 'No one would ever suspect!' He held out a hand to Charlton. 'Do you have that leaflet? The Galactic thingummy la-la?'

Charlton pa.s.sed him the Galactic Heritage Foundation booklet. The Doctor flitted through it.

'. . . Shardybarn, Verd, Ijij, Vymto, Shalakor, Zom, Pergoss, Varb, Ranx, Flamvolt, Galli'

Fitz sputtered on his coffee. The Doctor looked up at him bemusedly and continued. 'All these worlds are "listed",' he said. 'And they're all under threat.

Correct?'

'Correct ' Charlton began.

'Doesn't that strike you as something of a coincidence?'

'No. They wouldn't be protected otherwise, would they?'

'Or is it the other way round?' The Doctor returned the leaflet. 'What about worlds not included?'

'Worlds not designated heritage sites?' said Charlton. 'They can be developed, sold. . . no restrictions, really.'

'I see.' The Doctor examined his reflection in the Tomorrow Window 'You know these devices of yours are absurdly unhelpful. They only tell you what will will happen, not what you should do to prevent it.' The Doctor cleared his throat. 'What is the next planet on your "to save" list, Charlton?' happen, not what you should do to prevent it.' The Doctor cleared his throat. 'What is the next planet on your "to save" list, Charlton?'

'Ah,' brightened Charlton. 'It's a bit interesting, actually. . . hang on a tick-ington.' He darted over to a side door. A few moments later he reappeared, wheeling before him a widescreen television and video recorder on a trolley.

Charlton plugged in the equipment and collected a remote control. 'I taped a doc.u.mentary about it off cable.'

62.Estebol It was the day of the great race. A fresh frost made the track sparkle in the mountain air. Spectators patted their mittens and puffed out vapour, hugging their fluffy, pup-skin parkas. Cheeks were flushed and eyebrows snow-flecked.

The sleighs pulled up to the start line. Pena breathed slowly, keeping her thoughts clear, downplaying any nerves. In front, her six pups sniffed and yapped. They seemed to scent the excitement, their black-bead eyes wide, their whiskers a-twitch.

The final sleigh drew up, driven by Dela, Pena's main rival. Dela was breath-taking about twenty, pale blonde, firm-breasted and with eyes like shards of ice. She noticed Pena's attention and smiled.

The audience fell silent as the Starter strode to the start line. She raised one hand, shouting, 'Go!'

Pena rattled her leash and her pups yelped into action. In unison, they heaved themselves forwards, swiping the snow away behind them.

Maintaining her concentration, Pena glanced across at her compet.i.tors.

Fran was a couple of inches ahead, while Tilly had stalled, her pups snapping among themselves.

The spectators strolled alongside the race, crouching down to check the distances between the sleighs. One of them chattered as she walked, 'And now it's Dela, Pena, Fran, Bobo and Slub, Slub coming up on the outside, Tilly way behind. . . and Bobo's put on a spurt! Dela, Pena, Slub falling back, Dela, Pena gaining ground. . . '

Pena's sleigh reached walking pace and drew level with Dela's. Then her pups began to bleat. At the ten-yard point, she drew the sleigh to a stop and signalled to her team.

Her team, six women in thick fur-skin coats, rushed over to her. They picked up the exhausted pups, winding up their reins, and replaced them with six fresh specimens. They handed Pena the leashes and her sleigh inched forwards once more.

The changeover had cost her about a yard. Dela was ahead, but would have to take a pup-stop before the end of the race.

A shaft of magical light pierced the sky and a figure appeared on the track ahead.

63.Pena halted her sleigh. The other compet.i.tors followed suit. The spectators held back, waiting by the side of the road.

The figure had a top-heavy, bulky shape, and rested upon a throne of sparkling sapphire. 'I am your G.o.d!' it boomed.

'h.e.l.lo?' Pena dismounted her sleigh. 'Can I help you?'

The figure slammed two ma.s.sive hands upon its armrests and heaved itself to its feet. As it did, its head revolved to reveal the face of a pup. 'I have observed your mode of transport and have found it deficient!' it thundered. 'I shall help you build better vehicles.'

'Actually, we don't need better vehicles '

'What if you wish to travel to the next town?'

'I like it here,' said Pena. 'This is where all my friends live.'

'Just supposing you did.'

'I'd walk.'

'What if there wasn't time to walk?'

Pena frowned. 'I'd leave earlier.'

'You shall build better vehicles!' The ground shook.

'Right. . . ' said Pena, glancing to her compet.i.tor. They stared at her expectantly. 'And how are we going to do that?'

As she spoke, the air glittered by the figure's side, and a large, white board appeared out of nowhere.

The figure flipped over the top sheet of paper on the board, to reveal a complex diagram.

'Let me explain to you,' it said, 'the principles behind the internal combustion engine.'

64.

Chapter Five.

The One-Second War

'Valuensis today is a planet in the clammy grip of decline. The inhabitants spent much of the last millennia locked in a power struggle until only two nations much of the last millennia locked in a power struggle until only two nations remained. They are the Gabaks and the Aztales, located in underground cities remained. They are the Gabaks and the Aztales, located in underground cities upon opposite sides of the globe.' upon opposite sides of the globe.'

The picture cuts to a gloomy, cylindrical tunnel. An escalator trundles up into the blackness. Fat worms of ducting droop from the roof. the blackness. Fat worms of ducting droop from the roof.

The people glide upwards, their features sliding in and out of shadow. Their skin has a powdery texture, as though a sudden wind might reduce them to dust. skin has a powdery texture, as though a sudden wind might reduce them to dust.

Each has been afflicted in some manner. One has a bandaged head, its mouth and eyes little more than slits. Another has an accordion-like iron lung upon and eyes little more than slits. Another has an accordion-like iron lung upon its chest. One has its Jaws wired into place, pins piercing its cheeks. Most have its chest. One has its Jaws wired into place, pins piercing its cheeks. Most have robotic limbs, consisting of bare rods of steel. robotic limbs, consisting of bare rods of steel.

They are motionless, unbreathing. It's like a parade of the dead.

'Where is everyone?' said Fitz. The tele-door had brought them to a cavernous concrete-walled shaft. At its centre a series of escalators and lifts clanked their way up and down between levels.

Oddly, there were television sets fixed upon brackets throughout the chamber. As one, they played flickering static.

'At home? At work? At play?' The Doctor prowled along the bal.u.s.trade and peered downwards. Fitz joined him at the railing. Below them, escalators rolled away into the darkness. Fitz could smell the fumes of underground furnaces.

'And this is the Gabak city?' Trix said. 'Looks like Westminster tube.'

The Doctor nodded. 'The same patterns repeat themselves. . . '

Something scalding shot up Fitz's left leg. He yelped and stepped back, surrounded by a cloud. 'a.r.s.e!'

'Careful, Fitz,' said the Doctor. Fitz looked at where he'd been standing. The floor contained several vents. 'I think it's all steam-powered. Furnaces down below, the steam rises, driving turbines. . . Isambard would've loved this!'

Fitz rubbed his leg. 'Yeah, great. And this place blows up when?'

'Four hours,' said Charlton.

65.'So which way?' said Fitz. 'Where's your Tomorrow Window gallery? Up or down?'

'Up.' Charlton directed them to a nearby escalator. As Fitz stepped on, the chamber dropped away around him. 'It's been open for about a week, but it hasn't '

A dull clang interrupted Charlton's words, and Fitz cannoned into Trix's backside as the escalator halted. 'What the '

With a grinding wrench, the gears of the escalator shifted into reverse.

As Fitz looked to the Doctor for an explanation, a deafening howl rose out of nowhere. It grew to a shriek before falling, like the wail of a distraught creature. 'An air raid!'

Charlton gawped. 'What should we do?'

The Doctor waved them all off the escalator. 'We need to get as deep as possible. . . they must have shelters.' He dashed to a lift, wrenched the doors open, and jumped inside, reaching out to help Trix and Charlton over the threshold.

Fitz was about to join them when he spotted something moving in one of the pa.s.sageways. It scuttled into the half-light, carried upon eight legs.

It paused, its antennae bristling. It had a head, of sorts, comprising of a hemisphere with an electric headlight fixed upon either side. The lights captured Fitz in their glare. The hydraulic tubing that surrounded the creature's legs tensed as it lifted its forelegs, opening and closing its pincers.

'Doc' Fitz turned to enter the lift, but the doors clattered shut and the Doctor, Trix and Charlton dropped away.

Fitz reached for the lift b.u.t.ton, and the universe paused.

With a stomach-rumbling rumble, the ground shook, knocking Fitz off his feet. He landed on his knees, his palms scuffing against the concrete floor.

Metal screeched against metal. Fitz felt some grit patter upon him. Above him, up the elevator shaft, a thick grey cloud was surging downwards. Rubble cascaded from the walls as they cracked. Steam sprayed from ruptured pipes.

Shielding his eyes, Fitz staggered to his feet. As the cloud hit, the air turned hot and dry, like a desert wind, and dust caught in his throat. Ahead, he could make out the headlamps of the spider-robot. They swivelled, creating beams in the smog, like lighthouse lights. Fitz stumbled towards what he thought was a pa.s.sageway.

The ground shuddered again, and Fitz felt himself drop.

'But Valuensis wasn't always like this. A thousand years ago, the planet was occupied by nomadic tribes, and was, in many ways, idyllic.' occupied by nomadic tribes, and was, in many ways, idyllic.'

Healthy, sun-bronzed men and women squint into the dawn, the desert breeze ruffling their hair and their robes of hide. Each holds what appears to be a ruffling their hair and their robes of hide. Each holds what appears to be a 66 66 musical instrument bongo drums, castanets, and a ukulele.

One of them limbers up, stretching his muscles and touching his toes.

The people did not know of war or aggression, and instead settled their conflicts through ritualistic dance contests. . . ' through ritualistic dance contests. . . '

Charlton couldn't find anything to hang on to. Outside, on the other side of the mesh, he watched the concrete bulwarks rush past.

Cables squeaked overhead. He could see them, snaking up into the darkness, twisting and swinging back and forth.

The Doctor also looked upwards. 'Squat!'

'What?' said Charlton.

'Bend your knees!' yelled the Doctor, crouching. Beside him the young girl, Trix, adopted the same position. Charlton bent his legs The lift slammed into the ground and the floor slammed into Charlton's feet. He collapsed forward, gasping with pain, clutching his thighs. He stumbled against the door, but before he could lean against it, the Doctor had shouldered it open. 'Quick!'

As he lurched, moaning, out of the lift, Charlton looked up. The cables above them seemed to writhe in mid air, unfurling from the darkness, coiling themselves like a viper about to attack. A second later, and they stabbed into the roof of the lift, smashing it amid a spray of sparks.

'Through here!' the Doctor shouted, indicating a reinforced bulkhead door.

Charlton found himself slipping down some stairs into darkness. The Doctor's and Trix's footsteps clattered after him.

The door slammed shut with a hiss of steam.

Charlton caught his breath. Breathing in, he could taste antiseptic.

The flame in a gas lamp puffed into life and threw its light across the other inhabitants of the shelter. Some lay on mattresses and stretchers. Some crouched, some reclined against the walls. They were as still as mannequins, as though switched off. Each one stared ahead.

They were the people from the video. Bandaged faces with eye and mouth sockets. Artificial limbs of stainless steel. Tubes taped to their death-white skin.