Doctor Who_ Divided Loyalties Part 4

The commander frowned and brought his gun up again, but this time the Doctor eased it back down with a finger, fixing the commander with... with that that stare. The one Tegan knew so well. The one that said, I am a very old, impatient alien who is really fed up with having to lower himself to the level of mere humans but I will because you need to be humoured. And pitied.' stare. The one Tegan knew so well. The one that said, I am a very old, impatient alien who is really fed up with having to lower himself to the level of mere humans but I will because you need to be humoured. And pitied.' That That stare. stare.

The commander clearly sensed something along those lines himself because he answered the Doctor's question, saying that the station had lost contact about fifteen minutes earlier.

How the Doctor knew anything of the sort had happened confused Tegan, but whatever his ploy was, it worked. As the Commander led them away from the TARDIS he was telling him everything, as if they were old friends. The Doctor had a way about him like that.

She glanced back to the TARDIS and then reached out to touch it.

To touch home.

The only home she had right now, lost in s.p.a.ce and time until the Doctor fulfilled his promise and got her back to Earth. 1981. Real home.

And her hand pressed against the invisible force field that had kept the Doctor out.

She was dimly aware of the voice - from somewhere else entirely, she was sure.

h.e.l.lo, Tegan!'

And then she was somewhere else entirely.

5.

Mysterreality

Everywhere Tegan Jovanka went she saw the same things.

Vast skysc.r.a.pers around the harbour area, shopping centres and business districts, cafes and parks.

Tall, gleaming gla.s.s structures mixed favourably with smaller, traditional brick buildings, each one nestling against the other, bisected occasionally by small streets dotted with the frontages of smaller businesses.

A typical city in fact. Brisbane. The nearest town' to the family's farm - and scene of many a Sat.u.r.day afternoon escapade with Susannah, Hiss, Dave and Richard. Taking a ferry to the shops. Buying clothes and John Lennon and Abba records. Make-up and purses. All the things that thirteen-year-olds buy to tell their friends, parents and, more importantly, themselves that they are grown up. Have entered the world of the adults.

Hopping in and out of the larger stores, trying on ten different tops and skirts. Meanwhile the boys impatiently joking about t.i.ts and b.u.ms, completely ignorant of how their own bodies were changing in more subtle but, to the girls, equally obvious and far less attractive ways. G.o.d, their skin, their hair. Their breath!

Das.h.i.+ng into McDonald's, then down to the market, trying to find jewellery to shock everyone back at their respective homes. Richard getting his ear pierced because he'd seen someone from Britain on a pop show with a pierced ear and back-sprayed hair.

Tegan Jovanka knew central Brisbane backwards.

So why wasn't anything quite where it should be now?

She glanced over at her reflection in one of the eighteen-storey gla.s.s-fronted banks, the darkened gla.s.s reflecting back rather than enabling her to see in. But instead of her reflection staring at her, it seemed to be laughing at her. Pointing. And it was about twelve storeys taller than it ought to have been.

Oh, and Brisbane was completely deserted. Cars parked on the streets. Buses waiting at stops. But no one in them. No one in the streets. In the shops. In the cafes.

No birds in the air. No sounds of water even from the harbour.

Nothing. It was as though she was walking through a three-dimensional photograph of Brisbane.

Suddenly there was a sound. Something was falling from above her and she jumped aside just as a huge black bin-liner thwumped thwumped to the tarmac in front of her. Immediately it burst open, and sc.r.a.ps of paper were scattered in every direction, moved by a soundless, apparent gust of wind that Tegan couldn't feel. But one piece of paper didn't move. It lay there, curled at the edges on the dry street. to the tarmac in front of her. Immediately it burst open, and sc.r.a.ps of paper were scattered in every direction, moved by a soundless, apparent gust of wind that Tegan couldn't feel. But one piece of paper didn't move. It lay there, curled at the edges on the dry street.

Tegan picked it up.

h.e.l.lo Tegan it read. it read.

There was another.

Or is it a dream. is it a dream.

And another. But there had only been two a second ago. Or Or a nightmare. a nightmare.

She scrunched the papers up and threw them aside.

h.e.l.lo?' Her voice sounded small amidst the vastness of the buildings. But it didn't echo back as she thought it might. It was almost as if the city was swallowing her voice. Most probably, she could only have been heard by someone standing right beside her.

h.e.l.lo?' she shouted, but still her voice came out barely louder than a sotto voce sotto voce whisper. whisper.

Oh rabbits - this is ridiculous.' She started to walk in the direction taken by the sc.r.a.ps of paper she hadn't caught.

Towards the harbour - she could see the water glistening in the bright sunlight.

Doctor? Nyssa?'

If anyone knew what was going on, they would. Nothing. In desperation, and against her better judgement, she tried again.

Adric?'

She thought she heard something behind her, but there was nothing there.

But as she wheeled back towards the harbour, the road ahead was blocked.

By a skysc.r.a.per.

That wasn't there just now,' she said. With a shrug, she turned away and headed down a small side street that she remembered would take her towards the main open-air shopping precinct with its covered top.

Yes, that was still there. Except that the way was blocked by a wire-mesh gate with five... no six, huge padlocks keeping it closed. As she looked up she saw tiny slivers of jagged gla.s.s grow from the top of the gate until they were about seven inches high.

Now I know I'm dreaming,' she muttered. Still, it meant that she wasn't supposed to go that way. A quick glance to the left confirmed the skysc.r.a.per still blocked off the harbour.

Tegan continued walking, periodically encountering obstacles that hadn't been there last time she looked, and suddenly it hit her. Of course!' she yelled. It's a maze!'

At last,' came a voice from all around Brisbane and also close to her right ear.

Hey, I've coped with worse dreams than this,' she said loudly, her voice again swallowed by the lack of reality. I fought off the Mara. I can deal with you.'

Really?' came the voice. Bored with my little maze, are you? Well, let's see if I can jazz it up a bit for you, my friend.'

That hadn't been the response Tegan wanted. She had hoped that by bringing up her recent mental battle against the Mara, the disembodied ent.i.ty that had tried to re-enter the real world by manipulating her dreams, her foe would realise that she was stronger than he antic.i.p.ated. All that was going to happen, by the sound of it, was an upping of the ante.

Which was exactly what followed.

Adric!'

There in front of her was her travelling companion, hands in pockets, staring at her. No, staring past past her. Tegan turned and was greeted by the sight of Nyssa, hands behind her back. her. Tegan turned and was greeted by the sight of Nyssa, hands behind her back.

It's very simple, my dear,' said the disembodied voice. You must escape from my maze. I imagine the rules are fairly obvious. You can't cheat.' Tegan wondered if she knew the voice. It wasn't harsh, like the Mara's had been. It was older, almost relaxed and kindly. This voice reminded her of her English grandfather - it had those same cultured tones, an easy but educated way of speaking. However, it also had a smugness that suggested to Tegan that it liked hearing itself. She, on the other hand, was already rather naffed off with it.

Anything else I need to know?' she called out, and was pleasantly surprised that for the first time her voice carried.

Indeed, she felt a rush of air around her. Like the slight breeze from the surface of Brisbane harbour on a September morning.

As if to answer her, a third figure materialised at the far end of the street. It was a robot - a real 1950s idea of a robot. Tegan immediately thought of an old game she had owned as a child, a spelling game called Magic Robot. To spell a word out, the robot would walk towards the correct letters on a board. This robot was in the same mould - dull grey metal, square head and body, stubby jointed legs and arms, and a screen on its chest. On the screen, LEDs flashed, reading 1800.

Oh yes,' the voice finally replied. My robot is there to help you find your way out. I suggest you listen to him when he bothers to give you aid. And you have thirty minutes. Oh, and one last thing. Your young friends here are not your friends. At all. In any way whatsoever. I shouldn't trust them if I were you.'

As if to confirm this, Nyssa brought out from behind her a small rectangular box with a nozzle on it. The ion bonder she had used to help the Doctor on Castrovalva. But Tegan knew it could also be used as a weapon and realised that, here, that was exactly what it was.

Adric meanwhile undid the rope belt around his waist and started making a la.s.so of it, wheeling it expertly around his head.

Tegan knew then these were not her real friends from the TARDIS. Nyssa was never that cold, and Adric never had that degree of hand-eye co-ordination!

The robot held up a big sign - a wooden arrow with the words THIS WAY on it, pointing to the left.

When do I start?' asked Tegan, tense and ready.

As an answer, the LEDs began counting down on the robot's chest. 1799, 1798, 1796...

And Tegan ran for her life.

The man atop the pyramid on Dymok was grimacing.

His eyes screwed tightly shut, he was concentrating. His...

their... last hope was being... abused. last hope was being... abused.

No,' he said to no one, his voice cracked and weary, his vocal cords dry through lack of use. No, this cannot be right.

She is our salvation. She is our future. She is our destiny.'

His eyes snapped open, blazing with something new.

Something unbidden.

Do not interfere,' screeched a new voice through his mouth - harsh and bitter. Leave us, old one. Your time is over.'

But, clearly struggling with whatever demon was within him, the old man managed to screw his eyes shut again, took a deep breath and hissed in his own voice We shall meet our saviour. We shall meet our saviour. She is coming and there is nothing you can do about it. Nothing!'

Tegan dashed around a corner, expecting to find a way towards the harbour, but instead the robot was there, the countdown clicking away on its chest.

Who are you?' she yelled out angrily. I'm fed up with this!'

She was tired, rather grubby and knew full well that what was happening wasn't right. She stopped. All right, you win. I'm not running any more. You know why? Because this isn't real. I know a dreamscape when I see one. My mind has been plucked by experts, you know!'

The robot began striding towards her, emitting a hydraulic hiss every time it curled a knee joint or an arm joggled.

Taking a deep breath, Tegan closed her eyes and turned her back on it. She opened her eyes again, preparing to march forward.

Before her stood a man. In his mid-thirties, his dark, almost olive skin gave him a Mediterranean look. He wore a long burgundy robe and on his head a small burgundy skullcap covered most of his black hair.

Help me,' he was mouthing silently. Help me!'

Who are you?'

He seemed to frown at her, as if noticing her for the first time.

And then, to her right, another figure walked out of the shadows. He looked like a traditional stage magician she'd seen in countless television shows and on circus posters. A Caucasian man dressed like a Chinese mandarin, and lacking nothing except the fake moustache and badly made-up Chinese eyes.