Wyn
and Stella had made tea and sandwiches, on a tray. They brought the snack
into the console room, where they had left The Doctor and Jamie setting
their co-ordinates for the next destination. That was supposed to be Metebelis
II, the twin planet of the Infamous Metebelis III that the two of them
had heard so much about.
Instead, The Doctor was pushing up one of the mesh floor panels and Jamie
was knelt beside him, with K9 who was acting as a table for the cannibalised
laptop computer connected to the console by a very long length of wire.
It seemed to be running some kind of diagnostic programme.
“What’s going on?” Wyn asked.
“He says the TARDIS is sick,” Jamie answered.
“I’ll make it up a hot water bottle and put it to bed with
two headache tablets,” Wyn answered. Stella giggled at the idea.
“Whatever it is, come and grab one of these cups of tea now I’ve
gone to the trouble of making them.
The Doctor came up for air and took a mug from her, along with two of
the sandwiches, but he drank the tea as if it was water and didn’t
even seem to taste the food. He looked worried. Wyn watched him for a
long moment and her expression began to match his.
“Doctor, when you say sick… you mean… really sick? The
TARDIS could die?”
Stella gasped.
The idea was disturbing. The TARDIS was important to them all. It was
not just a means of transport. It was their home.
It was The Doctor’s best friend.
They needed the TARDIS.
Apart from anything else, they were a long way from Earth right now. They
had been on the planet Tarshesh, in the Gamma Quadrant, which was, according
to The Doctor’s gleeful explanation, a bit to the left of Cassiopeia
as seen from Britain on a clear night in June, if you kept straight on
for something like five hundred light years.
“We won’t be stranded,” Wyn said reassuringly as she
saw her sister’s worried expression. “If we’re really
in trouble, we can just call Nine. He’ll come and get us, no problem.
We just have to stick around here in temporal orbit around Tarshesh until
he gets to us.”
Stella looked relieved. She obviously hadn’t thought of that. So
did Jamie. But The Doctor just shook his head mournfully.
“No,” he said.
“What do you mean, no? Nine wouldn’t let us down. He looked
after you the time when you were hurt. He told us what we had to do.”
“I mean, no. This time, no. He can’t come and pick us up.
I couldn’t let him take the risk.”
“What risk?” Jamie asked.
“You’re just saying that because you’re stubborn and
proud and you know very well that he’ll tease you and make jokes
about being the intergalactic AA and stuff like that.” Wyn told
him.
“Well, there is that,” Stella laughed. “But come on!
That’s the WORST he can do. You’ll live down the embarrassment
in a few days… a few weeks… months… ok, maybe in a few
years he might stop bringing it up every time the two of you meet. And
you could probably hide on the other side of the universe until then…”
The companions laughed, but again The Doctor wasn’t laughing with
them.
“No,” he said again. “Nine can’t get us. I can’t
let him bring his TARDIS near mine. It could get infected, too.”
“Infected?” They all repeated the word and thought of the
implications.
“Doctor… seriously?” Jamie asked. “The TARDIS
has a disease?”
“What sort of disease could the TARDIS get?” Stella asked.
“One that kills it, stone dead, if I don’t treat it,”
he answered. “I should have realised days ago, maybe weeks. It’s
been very sluggish on dematerialisation. I thought it was something mechanical.
I was going to clean the diodes on the helmic regulator next stop. I was
going to do that two or three stops back, actually. I kept getting distracted.
And I SHOULD have run a proper diagnostic. The TARDIS has just been suffering
and suffering and I’ve been ignoring it and I should have….
I should have taken more care of her.”
He looked so dismal, so guilt-ridden it was as if he had left his wife
to get sick while he was off on pleasure trips, Jamie thought. He had
never quite got the idea of the TARDIS being organic or alive in some
way. But The Doctor clearly did believe that. His choice of words, infection,
suffering, death, were so very obviously meant to describe the problems
of some living entity.
“So what can we do?” Stella asked. “There IS something
we can do, isn’t there? We CAN’T just let the TARDIS die.”
“We?” The Doctor smiled sadly at her.
“Yes, WE,” she answered. “It’s our friend, too.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” The Doctor said. “But
I need Jamie and K9 monitoring and the rest is just me. I’ve got
to go down into the underbelly and physically examine the TARDIS.”
“Go down… where?” Stella asked.
“Here,” Jamie said. He reached for the computer still sitting
on top of K9 and brought up a rather surprising schematic. Stella and
Wyn both stared at it as they understood what they were looking at. They
had both accepted long ago that the console room looked like an upturned
cauldron, with the central console rising up in the middle to a sort of
canopy and the walls of hexagonal roundels supported by the coral shaped
pillars. They were all intimately familiar with the two levels of green
mesh floor panels with glowing diodes and crystals underneath, most of
which The Doctor had fiddled around with in some way over the years. They
knew about the more solid looking floor around the edge of the room, running
under the gangway and had always assumed that it continued all the way
under the mesh floor and the console itself.
They also had a hazy idea that there was some kind of crawl space under
it all, because The Doctor had, on occasion, dropped all the way under
to do maintenance or to find tools and equipment he had stored down there
sometime in the past millennia.
But what none of them had ever realised was that the console room, the
room in which they spent at least ninety per cent of their waking time,
was only the very tip of the iceberg, as it were. They saw on the schematic
a huge ball inside some kind of framework. The console room itself took
up far less than a half of the ball. It was merely a cross section near
the top, with a much larger space below.
“I didn’t know we had an attic, either,” Wyn said, pointing
to a strange arrangement at the top that looked like the business end
of a lighthouse. It looked as if there was a room on top of the console
canopy.
“Oh, yes,” The Doctor said. “That’s the TARDIS’s
lifeboat… the emergency escape pod. In the unlikely event of complete
breakdown. I use it as long term storage…” He grinned as he
saw the expressions on his companion’s faces as they interpreted
the phrase ‘long term storage’. “Ok, junk room,”
he added. “It’s also got the junction box for all the console
room lights. But they all use 500 year guaranteed bulbs. I haven’t
been up there for… ohhh… five hundred years. But there’s
no problem up there. The trouble is down there. He touched the screen
with a long finger over that larger portion of the console room globe.
“That’s where I need to go down into. Very difficult and delicate
operation…”
“We’ll help,” Wyn said.
“No,” he answered her. “It’s best I check it out
on my own.”
“Don’t be a daft, possessive Doctor,” Wyn told him.
“We’re here to help. We’re not just passengers. Just
tell us what to do.”
The Doctor looked at them all and made a decision.
“Stella, you’re the smallest. We don’t have much room
to manoeuvre going down. Bring your sonic eyeliner. It might be needed.
“Wyn, Jamie, you’re in charge up here. Jamie, you and K9 keep
on monitoring the diagnostic. Wyn… you need to make sure we stay
in temporal orbit. That’s important. Very important.”
“Well, yes,” Wyn answered. “Temporal orbit IS very important.
The alternative is that we end up crash landing on Tarshesh.” She
knew he was right about that. The console did need monitoring for that
very reason. But all the same, she felt she was being given the dullest
and most mundane job while Stella went off with him to do new and exciting
things. Stella was the least experienced of them all. The only qualification
she had for this job was that she was THIN. That didn’t seem fair.
“Wyn,” The Doctor said quietly. “I DO need you at the
controls. I really am concerned that we could lose orbit suddenly. And
you know how to control the TARDIS manually if it should come to that.
Neither Jamie nor Stella can do that.”
“That’s for real?” Wyn asked. “You’re not
just telling me that to make me feel better about not going down there
with you? You really do think the TARDIS is in that much trouble?”
“I really think so,” he answered. “I can’t risk
landing on any planet for the same reason we can’t contact Nine.
We can’t allow the possibility of the TARDIS contaminating anything
else. We’re on our own here with nothing but the resources of our
own hearts and minds.”
“Then I won’t let you down, Doctor,” she promised. “You
can count on me.”
“I know I can,” he said. “But remind me if I ever start
to take that for granted.”
He smiled warmly at her before he turned his attention to Stella. She
had made herself ready for the job, changing very quickly from her skirt
and top into a pair of slacks and a long sleeved t-shirt and flat shoes.
She had even taken out her dangly earrings. He was impressed by the thought
she had put into the operation. He got himself ready by discarding his
jacket and tie and putting his sonic screwdriver into his trouser pocket.
He checked that her sonic eyeliner was in full working order, then Jamie
helped him to pull up one of the mesh panels and then the close fitting
panel in the floor of the space below that. Wyn looked at how narrow it
was and though she thought she probably could get down there at a squeeze,
it would be a very undignified one. The Doctor was doing her a courtesy,
after all, in not asking her to come down there with him.
He dropped down first onto a narrow metal ladder and descended quickly.
Stella came after him. She was rather surprised at what she saw as the
lower space opened out below her, but The Doctor didn’t offer any
explanations of what she was looking at.
“The ladder only goes part way,” he called up to her. “You
need to jump – or drop.”
“I need to WHAT?” she answered.
“Don’t worry,” he called back. “I’ll catch
you.” She felt the difference on the ladder as his weight was released
from it and heard the sound of his plimsolled feet clanging against a
metal surface. The interval between the two wasn’t long, but long
enough. She didn’t like it. But there was nothing to do but keep
going.
She kept going until she felt there was no more ladder below her. She
kept her feet on the bottom rung and risked a look down. The drop was
at least twice her height again before the top of The Doctor’s head.
Even if he caught her, she would be falling for most of the way, and falling
was not something she liked to do.
And it wasn’t as if there was only floor down there to break her
fall. The Doctor was standing on a quite narrow looking metal walkway
suspended over what seemed to be a much deeper chasm.
“Don’t worry,” he repeated. “I WILL catch you.”
She closed her eyes and dropped. She felt empty air rushing past her and
then The Doctor’s arms reaching out, grabbing her, slowing her descent,
holding her as her feet found the solid surface beneath them, hugging
her reassuringly.
“Good girl,” he said. “You can open your eyes now.”
She opened them and looked up.
“How do we get back up?” she asked.
“We’ll worry about that when we come to it,” he answered.
“Oh, ok!” She stared around. She wasn’t sure what was
the most amazing thing among several amazing things that she was looking
at.
In no particular order the first amazing thing that she saw was what looked
like a huge, see through, glowing stalactite hanging down from the dead
centre of the ceiling that was high above her head now. It continued all
the way down into that chasm she had noted before. Stalactite was the
right word for it, too. It wasn’t something made, but something
that had grown, accreted, over the years, centuries, even. And there was
something else about it. Something in the colour, the luminosity, that
told her it was in some way connected to the console. The idea that the
time rotor was the TAME part of this great structure got fixed in her
mind.
Then there was the chasm itself. She looked down very carefully and couldn’t
see how deep it really was, because the glow from the column, stalactite,
was too bright. But if The Doctor told her it was infinite, she would
have believed him.
“It depends on how you look at it,” he said. “It’s
infinite looking at it like that. But if you go down into the engine room
and look at the other end, it’s just a couple of floors long.”
She knew that didn’t make a scrap of sense, but decided not to get
into it. There were too many other things that she still had to take in
without being bogged down by one aspect of it.
The column light didn’t quite fully illuminate the space, but it
did make the light and shadow distinct and allowed her to see the other
remarkable features. The curving outer walls of the globe were most in
shadow, and caught her attention next. They must have been some sort of
metal, but even so, there was something about them that didn’t look
as if forged in a metalworks, but rather grown organically. The ridged
framework reminded her of the ribs of a whale and images of Pinocchio
and his father swallowed up by one in a picture book from her childhood
swam into the forefront of her mind.
With the idea of being inside some huge, living thing planted she turned
her attention to the huge latticework of conduits that formed a canopy
over her head, woven around the stalactite column and reaching out like
tangled tentacles to meld with the ribs of the wall. All the images she
could think of were of living tissue. An octopus, maybe. No, not that.
Roots of a tree, perhaps? No. Again, floating into her mind from afar
was an image of what the muscles and sinew that made a Human joint work
came to her. That’s what it was like. Sinew. Or…
“The TARDIS is a sort of animal?” she asked The Doctor. “It’s
really alive?”
“Not animal,” he answered her. “More like a living,
growing mineral. All this began as a crystal about the size of your hand.
The name of the substance is unpronounceable in English and has no obvious
translation. But it is grown by the TARDIS bio-engineers. They accelerate
the growth so it only takes about two years before they can start manipulating
it and building the mechanical part around it.”
“But we’re kind of… I mean we ARE… inside a living
thing… in its stomach…”
“Yes, that’s a way of looking at it,” The Doctor replied.
“Yes… yes…. The guts of the TARDIS. And… the poor
old thing, she has a case of indigestion.”
“Poor TARDIS.” Stella patted the ribbed wall. “There,
old thing. The Doctor will make you better.”
“Yes, I will,” he promised. “As soon as I find out exactly
what…”
Stella patted the wall again, noting that it was warm like something organic,
rather than cold like metal or crystal. Then she looked at the latticed
conduits. What were they like? Were they dry or wet, soft or hard, cold
or warm?
She reached out and touched one of them and found it warm like the walls,
and dry, not rock hard, but with a give in it like the solid tyres of
her first kiddie bicycle with the training wheels.
And it was covered in some sort of residue. Something much stickier than
dust, more like soot or ash, but a pale grey-green kind of colour.
“Oww,” she cried as she felt it stinging her hand. The Doctor
was there in a moment, his sonic screwdriver out of one pocket and a packet
of moist wipes from the other. He rubbed the residue off her palm and
then soothed the red, irritated skin.
“I don’t know what it is,” he said. “But it seems
mildly acidic.” He used the sonic screwdriver in analysis mode to
examine the conduits. “Yes, a very mild formic acid, like ant bites
have. And it shouldn’t be here. If it was left any longer it would
start to eat through… and this is the TARDIS’s central nervous
system. She would be in big trouble.” Again he adjusted his sonic
screwdriver and he told Stella the setting on her sonic eyeliner. He aimed
it at one of the conduits and it acted like a sonic pressure washer, cleaning
the horrible residue away. He reached into the deep and apparently limitless
trouser pocket and produced two small paper mouth and nose covering masks
of the sort she had seen worn by police directing traffic in big, polluted
cities. He gave one to her and put the other on his own face.
“You take the lower sections, where you can reach. I’ll work
up to the top,” he told her. “Don’t touch it. A mucky
job, I’m afraid. Not the sort of thing you expected when you came
away with me for adventure. Spring cleaning the TARDIS….”
“Got to be done though,” she said. And she set to work diligently.
He did the same, only once he had cleared the lower parts he climbed up
agilely and started to clean the harder to reach nooks and crannies. Every
so often they found a part of the conduits were the acidic residue had
started to penetrate deeper. The Doctor told her the sonic setting that
produced a sort of clear resin, like superglue, that covered the deeper
abrasions. The conduits would repair themselves, in time, The Doctor explained,
but the resin protected the vulnerable points until then. Meanwhile the
cleaning continued. They talked a little, their voices sounding muffled
by the face masks, and at the same time echoing in the curving ball of
a room. Sonic steam cleaning the guts of the TARDIS certainly hadn’t
been mentioned when she and Wyn came aboard, but she didn’t mind.
If it made the TARDIS well again, it was worth it.
Then something other than The Doctor clambering around the lattice caught
her eye.
“Doctor,” she called. “There’s something up there.
By the roof. I saw it… Something moving.”
“What? Where?” The Doctor looked down at her then up at the
ceiling, which was, of course, the floor of the room above where Wyn and
Jamie and K9 waited. It wasn’t smooth. It looked as if it was accreting
mini stalactites of its own. At first, though, he didn’t see what
she had seen and was ready to dismiss it as shadows, imagination…
“There, look,” she cried out and this time he saw it, too.
Something small, black, slowly sliding down the smooth surface of the
central Time Rotor stalactite, clinging to it with sucker like pads on
its six long limbs. The Doctor quickly adjusted the sonic screwdriver
and aimed it. The creature hurtled away from the surface and then fell
with the thump onto the walkway by Stella’s feet. The Doctor swung
down to join her. He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and used
it to pick the creature up by the scruff of its neck.
It HAD a neck, and a small round head, and a torso with the six suckered
limbs sprouting from it. The head had two pixie-like pointed ears, no
nose, round eyes – shut now – and a slitlike mouth that lolled
open revealing a pinkish tongue and a lot of very small, sharp teeth.
“Is it dead?” Stella asked.
“Stunned,” The Doctor answered. “But what in creation
is it? I have never seen anything like it.”
Stella giggled.
“It’s a Nargle,” she told him.
“A what?”
“Nargle. There’s…” she blushed and giggled again.
“They’re from Harry Potter. They infest mistletoe. And TARDISes,
apparently.” She shrugged. “Ok, I know, that’s just
silly. But it just seemed like a Nargle to me.”
“Nargle it is, then,” The Doctor said. “Good enough
name for it. And if your woman has a copyright issue than I could mention
portkeys and cars and tents that are bigger on the inside.” He studied
the newly christened Nargle carefully, analysing it’s chemical composition
with the sonic screwdriver. “It’s made of the same basic elements
as that residue. I’ve got a feeling we’ve been cleaning up
Nargle guano.”
“Yuck,” Stella commented and wiped her hand that had touched
it on her t-shirt “But how did it get here?”
“I would really like to know,” The Doctor said. “And
how many more there…”
He yelped as the stunned creature woke up and sank those small, sharp
teeth into the soft, loose part of his hand between the thumb and fingers
– possibly the most painful place – on the hand at least –
to be bitten. The Doctor waved his hand and the creature dug in tight.
Blood poured from the wound as he whirled around and hit his hand against
the ribbed wall. The creature flew away, taking a chunk of his flesh with
it and landed with a crunching thud a few feet away.
“You killed it,” Stella exclaimed as she bent to look at it.
This time it definitely was dead. There was a squashed look about the
head and a limpness to the body that just had to be dead.
“Yes…um… sorry… I was a bit harder than I intended,”
The Doctor stammered as the blood continued to flow from the place where
a chunk of his skin had been wrenched off. “I wouldn’t have
done that if… unique life form. Killing it isn’t…”
Stella looked up from her examination of the dead creature and looked
instead at The Doctor. His handkerchief was soaked with his light coloured
blood.
“All that from one little bite? I thought your body could mend itself?”
she said.
“Should do,” he answered her with a distressed look in his
eyes. “Should have started to mend by now. I should… I think…
some sort of anti-coagulant in the bite… I… I can’t
stop it from bleeding.”
Stella gasped as The Doctor’s blood dropped onto the metal walkway
at his feet. His hand was simply pouring with blood. The handkerchief
was bright orange and glossy with it. She adjusted her sonic eyeliner
to tissue repair and tried to apply it, but it didn’t seem to be
having any effect. Neither did The Doctor’s own sonic screwdriver
in the same mode.
“If we don’t stop it, you’ll bleed to death,”
she said. “You can’t replace blood that quickly, can you?”
“My body is trying,” he answered. “But you’re
right. We have to staunch it, somehow and…”
More blood fell to the walkway with a plinking noise. Then Stella heard
another sound, a scuttling, and saw three of the Nargles clambering up
over the edge of the walkway. They lapped at the blood and seemed excited
by it.
“There’s more,” Stella yelled. “They want your
blood, Doctor.”
It certainly seemed that way. They stood and stared for mere seconds,
but in that time a dozen creatures had come to join the feast of blood.
“Urgghh!” Stella managed to say as she saw something even
more gruesome. The dead Nargle was decomposing rapidly, and from the horrible
ooze a dozen smaller Nargles appeared, scampering towards The Doctor’s
blood.
The sight of them galvanised The Doctor. He pulled himself up, suppressing
a yell as he grasped with his bleeding hand, onto one leg – or tentacle
- of the lattice conduits. He reached with his good hand to pull Stella
up.
“Climb,” he said. “Quickly. Need to get back up…
before they decide they want their blood fresh.”
Stella climbed the cleaned conduit lattice. It was easy enough for her,
but The Doctor was struggling. She passed him, but he wouldn’t let
her wait. He told her to get up to the ladder and not worry about him.
She did so, but she kept looking back to make sure he was still coming.
He was, but slowly and obviously in pain and weak from blood loss. And
she could see things moving up behind him. The Nargles were feasting on
his blood everywhere he had put his bad hand - leaving bloody prints.
They were moving fast. She saw him wave his hand and throw one of them
off as it tried to get to his flesh. He looked up at her and told her
to keep going.
She gained the ladder and looked down again. He shouted back that he was
right behind her. And he very nearly was. He only had to reach out to
the bottom rung. She scrambled up towards the hatch and banged on it frantically.
It opened and she was glad that Jamie, in his male form, was strong. He
hauled her up into the familiar part of the console room.
“Help The Doctor,” she said. “He’s hurt and there
are things… the Nargles are after his blood…”
She looked back down through the hatch and she could see him, dangling
by one arm on the lower rung. His upturned face was pale and he was groaning
with pain. His hurt hand flailed around and she could see that there were
Nargles all over it. They had got him.
“I’m going down,” Jamie said and dropped down into the
space. Again, as she and Wyn both watched anxiously, Stella was glad of
Jamie’s masculine strength. He managed to pull The Doctor up by
his good arm until he could grab on further up the ladder, then he pulled
him by the shoulders until they were both able to climb the ladder together.
Wyn and Stella between them hauled The Doctor up and out and Jamie scrambled
after him, slamming the hatch down firmly and putting the mesh top panel
down as well.
“Get those things off him!” Stella was yelling as he turned
to see The Doctor kneeling on the floor. There were ‘Nargles’
biting at his bloody hand and even clinging to his blood soaked shirt.
Jamie batted them away with his hands and K9 burnt them to cinders with
his laser.
“Oh… my… God!” Wyn exclaimed as she grasped The
Doctor’s arm and held it up. “Your hand….”
It was barely recognisable as a hand. The flesh had been stripped and
so had most of the muscle and even the bones had been gnawed. It was still
bleeding profusely and The Doctor’s face was pale from the loss
of blood as well as shock and pain.
“Hold it tight,” he said to her through gritted teeth. “Hold
it down on the floor… my arm. K9… you’ve got to sever
it at the wrist with your laser and cauterise the wound instantly.”
“What!” All three of his companions exclaimed at once. “No.
No, you can’t.”
“It’s the only way,” he assured them. “It won’t
stop bleeding otherwise.”
“Oh!” Wyn held back tears of sympathy as she saw that there
really was no other way to save his life. “Stella, don’t look.
It’s too…”
“I was down there,” she answered. “It can’t be
worse.” As Wyn and Jamie both held The Doctor’s army steady,
K9 extended his laser probe and fired a very thin, precise beam. The Doctor
screamed in agony as the laser cut through his wrist and instantly sealed
the wound. When it was over, Wyn pulled him into her arms and hugged him
tightly. He was doing his best not to cry. She wouldn’t have blamed
him if he had been in floods. She couldn’t begin to imagine how
much that had hurt.
Jamie bent to examine the bloody remains of his hand.
“K9, burn it,” The Doctor said. “The hand. I can’t
leave remnants of my own flesh. DNA… it could be used…”
But he didn’t need any more explanations. K9 fired a wider beam
and incinerated it. The Doctor breathed in deeply and sagged against Wyn
for a few minutes as he regained his strength.
“Lot of blood loss,” he said. “But I’ll be right
as rain in a minute.”
“No, you won’t,” Wyn told him. “You just stay
right where you are until you’re good and ready.”
“What about those things though?” Stella asked. “The
Nargles…” Wyn and Jamie looked puzzled by the name she had
given them. It seemed far too cute for something that had almost killed
The Doctor in his own TARDIS.
“I took readings with the sonic screwdriver,” The Doctor said.
“Later I can find out their proper chemical composition and work
out which planet we must have picked them up on… take precautions
next time.”
“How many are there?” Wyn asked. She was sure she could hear
them, under the floor. A scrabbling and scratching as if they were trying
to break through.
“Hundreds, I think,” Stella said. “We found one at first.
And then suddenly there were loads. I think there was a nest. They were…”
“More than hundreds,” Jamie said as he glanced at the diagnostic
screen. “Hell! Where did they all come from?”
“They fed on me,” The Doctor said. “And now they’re
multiplying. They divide and subdivide and create new versions of themselves.
They can probably keep going like that for a while after a feed.”
“How can we get rid of them?” Wyn asked.
“Flood the TARDIS with pure Huon particles,” The Doctor answered
as he raised himself to his feet, slightly unsteadily, and leaning on
Wyn heavily. “In large enough quantities, Huon particles will kill
any animal tissue.”
“How can we get rid of THEM and not kill us as well?” Wyn
amended. “And what are Huon particles when they’re at home?”
“Very lethal, dangerous stuff,” The Doctor answered. “It’s
the raw material – the ore – from which Artron energy comes.
When the particles are exposed to oxygen they give off Artron energy –
catalytic process… Artron energy is dangerous, too. But only in
concentrated form – only when it’s pooled up in the Eye of
Harmony or if the body is over-exposed to it. The Eye… at it’s
very core… it’s a fragment of a star… the source of
the TARDIS’s power. The Artron energy is fed through to the reactor
in the engine room, and up through the central column to the console,
the Time Rotor. But I can reverse the polarity, feed it back and make
it so that it floods the whole ship with Huon particles instead…”
Even Wyn, with degrees in applied sciences, wasn’t sure if what
he said made sense or not. She thought it probably did in his own mind,
but he just couldn’t quite convey his meaning to them.
“Again,” she said. “I ask the obvious question. How
do we stop it killing us?”
“Lifeboat,” he answered. “Up there… sealed, separate….
Built to withstand a sub-atomic explosion inside the TARDIS…. In
the unlikely event…”
“And we get there how?”
“Up the ladder…” He pointed to the metal ladder that
he used to get to the very narrow walkway partway up the wall. They had
all seen him do maintenance up there, but they didn’t know it led
anywhere else. “Door up there… concealed. Climb up inside…
Jamie and Stella… you go up there now. Wyn, I’ll need you
to help me.” He waved his wounded right arm in demonstration of
his need.
“Just tell me what to do,” she told him.
As Jamie and Stella evacuated the console room, up the ladder and through
the concealed door, he showed Wyn what was needed to persuade the TARDIS
to stop feeding energy to its engines and instead contaminate itself with
lethal particles. It was a strange thing to want to do. But it obviously
was the only way to deal with the infestation of ‘Nargles’.
She made a mental note to ask about that name later and watched The Doctor
carefully. He was still very pale and she reckoned he needed some serious
bed rest, not a scramble up a ladder to a ‘lifeboat’.
“Don’t like to do this,” he said. “They’re
living creatures. But they’re living off my TARDIS. If we don’t
stop them they’ll destroy it and us. I have to…”
That was the other thing, of course. It went against the grain for him
to kill anything. He had no choice, and it hurt him to know that.
“Can’t be helped,” he said in a sad, resigned voice.
Then in the next heartsbeat he became practical as he told her to set
a timer delay for three minutes.
“What about K9?” Wyn asked. “Is he…”
“I am not organic, mistress,” K9 said. “I cannot be
harmed by the Huon particle emission. I will monitor the situation from
here and signal to you when it is safe to return.” He extended his
probe and connected with the console. Wyn bent and tickled his robot ears.
The Doctor, one handed, did the same.
“Good dog, K9,” he said. Then he pressed the button that started
the three minute countdown. “Come on…”
He was slower than he ought to be. He was climbing a ladder one handed,
and still suffering slightly from the loss of blood. But he moved fast
enough, Wyn following behind, watching him carefully. She closed the concealed
door behind them as they stepped into the narrow space between the curved
inner and outer walls of the console room. The outer one had a rib-like
texture to it. The inner one had hexagonal bumps that she realised were
the backs of the roundels she was so used to seeing on the inside of the
console room. There was a ladder fixed to the inner wall and they climbed
it until they reached a door.
It was bright in the ‘lifeboat’ or ‘attic’ or
whatever it was going to be called. It looked more like the lamp room
of a lighthouse without the lamp. The walls were luminous white. There
were assorted bits of junk in it. A child’s desk and chair and a
rocking horse were among the oldest looking pieces. Wyn thought they must
go back to when his granddaughter, Susan, travelled with him as a little
girl.
There were two big white, leather sofas for them to sit on. Wyn helped
The Doctor to lie down on one of them. From a large box marked ‘emergency
rations’ Stella brought a bar of chocolate and unwrapped it for
him. From a smaller box marked with the red cross of a first aid kit,
Wyn found the makings of a sling. She noted that his body WAS starting
to repair itself now. Skin had grown over the stump. All the same, it
was as well to protect his arm.
“Thanks,” he said. “For everything.” He ate a
little of the chocolate and looked around the strange room. It was past
the three minute mark now. The Huon particles must be flooding the place
by now. But they were safe here. He allowed himself to breathe deeply.
“Not the first time I’ve lost my hand, you know,” he
said. “Same one, too. I’d only regenerated a few hours before
and I was in a pair of pyjamas, fighting a duel with the captain of the
Sycorax for the freedom of planet Earth. He got lucky and chopped my hand
off. Unluckily for him, and lucky for me, I was still bursting with energy
from the regeneration. My body was still in flux, and I was able to grow
a new hand. The one that I’ve just gone and lost again. Shame. I
was getting quite used to that hand. Be harder, this time, too.”
“You’ll be able to grow a new hand?” Jamie asked. “You’re
not… not permanently wounded?”
Wyn and Stella both awaited the answer to that, too. The Doctor smiled
widely.
“It’ll take about two months,” he said. “It’ll
be a bit awkward meantime. And it’ll ache like crazy. Itches, too,
when the new flesh is forming on the bones.”
“That only seems fair, somehow,” Wyn told him. “Just
about every other species in the universe, they lose a limb and it’s
gone for good. Seems right you should suffer a bit if you get a brand
new hand at the end of it.” The Doctor grinned and agreed with her.
“Even so, I think you need looking after properly until you’re
mended. After we go downstairs and we make sure the TARDIS is Nargle free
and disinfected, I’m going to set course to see mum and dad in South
Africa. You liked it there. Mum and dad liked having you visit. It’ll
do you good.”
The Doctor looked at her and smiled faintly. He thought of reminding her
that he was a Time Lord, sometimes called the Prince of the Universe,
revered as a God by some species. He didn’t have to be told to take
sick leave.
Then again, a couple of months of R&R in the Groot
Karoo, with some of his dearest friends, wasn’t a bad notion.