Doctor Who BBCN13 - Sting of the Zygons Page 2
‘Let me see.’ The Doctor snatched the paper from her hands.
‘So why all the artillery?’ asked Martha. ‘Taking this lot along to hunt a dead monster seems a bit like overkill.’
‘Friend of mine is the expert naturalist brought in to study the brute
– Lord Haleston. He says there’s serious injury to its head.’ Victor tapped the side of his large nose. ‘Thinks perhaps it had a tussle with a mate.’
‘Mate?’
Martha looked round nervously at the quiet, beautiful scenery. ‘Then there’s another thing like that roaming about?’
‘There have been one or two sightings,’ Victor confirmed. ‘Could be just rumours, of course, or hysteria. The police have searched, ‘and the army, too – after the massacre at that village last week they pulled 9
out all the stops. No luck finding anything, but then it’s such a wide area to cover. . . ’
‘Oh, no. No, no, no.’ The Doctor had been studying the paper, stony-faced. Now he slung it in the back of the car. ‘Victor, can you give us a lift?’
‘The crash has done for the engine, I’m afraid.’
Victor sighed.
‘Dashed if I can get her to work.’
The Doctor produced his sonic screwdriver, lifted the mangled bonnet and stuck it inside. Then he turned the crank handle and the engine roared into life at once.
Victor stared in baffled delight. ‘How’d you do that, then?’
‘I want to see this dead monster,’ said the Doctor, as if this was explanation enough. ‘The paper doesn’t say where it is.’
‘Naturally. Don’t want a circus. . . ’
‘Do you know?’
‘As it happens, yes,’ Victor admitted. ‘The Beast’s pegged out beside the lake at Templewell. We can detour on the way to Goldspur, though I’m not sure I can guarantee you access, old buck. Bit of a closed shop up there, and old Haleston –’
‘What’s Goldspur?’ Martha queried, raising her voice over the engine’s sputter.
‘Lord Haleston’s estate, base of operations for the hunting party,’
Victor explained. ‘But, wait just a moment! A lady travelling without a trunk? Never thought I’d see the day. Where’s your luggage? How’d you pitch up here, in any case?’
‘We had a bit of an accident ourselves,’ said the Doctor.
‘Several,’ Martha put in. ‘We lost everything and we’ve been walking all day.’
‘Then a lift you shall have,’ Victor declared. ‘One good turn deserves another, what?’ He headed for the driver’s seat, but the Doctor was already sat there with an innocent smile.
‘I wouldn’t dream of making you drive with a bad hand,’ the Doctor informed him. ‘You ready, then? Come on, stop dawdling!’
Martha allowed Victor to help her climb up beside the Doctor. ‘I take it we’re joining this monster hunt?’ she asked.
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The Doctor’s fingers drummed on the wheel as Victor clambered into the back. ‘I have to be certain what that creature is,’ he said ominously.
‘I’d like to be certain you can drive this thing,’ she said. ‘How did the sonic screwdriver get it started in two seconds flat?’
The gleam returned to his eyes as he replied. ‘My sonic dealer was giving away a Vintage Earth Engines software bundle free with every Sanctuary Base upgrade.’
As ever, Martha wasn’t quite sure if he was talking rubbish or not.
And, as ever, that was all part of the fun.
The Doctor pulled on a lever beside him and stepped on the accelerator pedal, and with a lurch the Opel roared away down the muddy track.
No one noticed the hunched, orange creature hidden in the gorse on the hillside, breathing hoarsely, watching them go with dark, glit-tering eyes.
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The car was rattling along at thirty miles an hour, but to Martha it felt more like ninety. She grabbed hold of the underside of the seat while the Doctor whooped and laughed and spun the wheel this way and that, his hair getting windblown into ever less likely styles. The slate-grey sky hung over their heads like an unspoken threat as the car climbed up and down the fells.
There’s a whole gang of us staying with old Haleston,’ Victor yelled, trying to stop his fold-out map flapping away like a frightened bird.
‘Some have even brought the little ladies along. They’re already in-stalled, of course, came on the train.’
‘Sensible,’ Martha returned, clinging grimly on. ‘Why did you decide to drive, then?’
‘It’s my passion, m’dear! Picked up this little beauty from Manch-ester, does sixty miles on one oil change.’ He stroked the leather upholstery. ‘It’s not all a jaunt, mind. I’m here chiefly on business.
Pressing matter to attend to in Kelmore.’
Martha recalled what she’d read of the newspaper article. – ‘That village the monster attacked?’
‘Over forty left dead in the beast’s wake, including dear old Sir Albert Morton, it seems. Ran after the monster. Not been seen since.’
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Victor paused. ‘I’m the old boy’s lawyer – well, used to be. His papers at the house have been left in a terrible state. . . ’
‘So this monster,’ said Martha, switching back the subject. ‘How come it’s strong enough to trash a village but then turns up dead just a few miles away?’
‘Perhaps it didn’t,’ the Doctor pointed out. ‘If there have been other sightings since, maybe it’s the living creature that’s the killer.’
‘Clearing the name of a dead monster,’ Martha observed. ‘Sweet.’
‘Guilty or innocent, if there is a second monster we’ll hound it till it cries capivvy,’ Victor declared. ‘And not just for the sport, or the public service.’ He tapped his nose again. ‘Those in the know say the King will present a special medal to whoever bags the brute. Er, left here, old buck.’
The Doctor nodded and tackled the crossroads with gusto. Martha spotted a horse and carriage clopping along from the right. A bundle of hunting gear was tied to the roof of the carriage.
‘Looks like you’ve got competition,’ Martha observed.
‘Let them come.’ Victor folded the map and leaned back in his seat.
‘The more the merrier.’ The car slowed, (he engine growling in protest as the Doctor turned onto a steep hillside track. ‘Ah, Templewell!’ said Victor brightly. ‘Here be monsters. Dead ones, at any rate.’
As they turned the next corner, the Doctor slowed the car further. A policeman on a black, shiny bicycle was blocking a dirt track leading off from the roadside. His uniform was smart, with brass buttons dazzling to the eye. He wore a moustache like a clothes brush beneath his red nose.
‘You’ll have to back up,’ said the policeman in a thick northern accent. ‘This road is closed.’
‘Good, I’m glad. Can’t be too careful,’ the Doctor informed him.
‘Don’t want just anyone getting down there to see the monster, eh?
We’re with Lord Haleston.’
Victor stood up in the back. ‘Tell him Victor Meredith’s arrived with, er, experts from London.’
The policeman looked doubtfully at Martha. ‘Experts, is it?’
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‘Tell you what,’ said the Doctor, jumping from the car, his coattails flapping. ‘We’ll tell him ourselves.’ He pushed past the policeman.
‘This way?’
‘You can’t go down there!’ the policeman protested. ‘And you can’t come after us,’ Martha informed him, putting on her most genteel tones as she hurried after the Doctor. ‘I mean, wouldn’t do to leave the road unguarded, would it?’
The policeman was left gaping as Victor gave him a cheery wave and followed them down the footpath. ‘Good work,’ said Victor, chuckling to himself. ‘I knew from the first we would all get along! Ah, Doctor, it’s just a pity you’re not a hunting man. . . ’
The Doctor’s hands were shoved deep in his pockets as he strode along. ‘Oh, I n
ever said that.’
They moved quickly down the quiet track.
Sheep and cattle
watched them languidly from adjacent fields, the only observers.
Then, as the path wound round the hillside, Martha caught a glimpse of grey water and a huge, dark shape beyond the high hedgerows. She parted some wet leafy branches and peered through, and the Doctor pressed his face up beside her to see.
‘Oh my god. . . ’ Martha felt sick just taking in the sheer size of the beast lying on the shore far below. Only the upper body was protruding from the muddy swell of the lake, but that alone was as long as a playing field. Men were milling around it, dwarfed by its mass. The creature’s corpse lay on its side, two huge clawed paws clasped together in some sick parody of prayer. Its neck was as long and thick as a battleship, leading to a set of hideous jaws, each twice as long as a train carriage and crammed with ivory spikes. But above the jaws was little more than a mangled mess of blackened bone. Most of the head seemed to have been ripped clear away.
‘What d’you think it died of?’ Martha deadpanned.
The Doctor puffed out a long breath. ‘I didn’t think anything could kill a Skarasen.’
‘A what?’
‘A cyborg animal – part organic, part metal. Part reared, part engineered.’
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Martha shivered. ‘You’ve met one before?’
‘A little one,’ the Doctor confessed. ‘You could say I got under its feet. But that was ages ago, up in Loch Ness and about seventy years from now.’
‘Loch Ness?’ Martha stared at him, incredulous. ‘You mean there really is a monster-?’
‘Onwards we trot!’ called Victor, who was waiting for them further down the track. ‘I feel a view up close is in order, don’t you?’
The Doctor was about to follow, when Martha held him back. ‘If this Skarasen is a cyborg. . . then who made it?’
‘Zygons,’ said the Doctor, his dark eyes troubled.
‘And you’ve come up against Zygons too?’
‘Oh, yes. And the ones I met never said anything about having two Skarasens, so. . . ’ Abruptly, he hurried away after Victor. ‘This doesn’t feel right. We need to find out exactly what’s going on round here, and pronto. Prontissimo. Pronto-a-go-go.’ He turned and gave her a wide grin. ‘Come on, then, you heard the man. Onwards we trot. . . ’
Steeling herself, Martha jogged down with him to face up to the mauled monster.
Lord Henry Haleston was not enjoying his day. His assistants and orderlies were giving him a wide berth, and he didn’t blame them.
How the Prime Minister expected him to compile a serious-minded report on this. . .
There were two great passions in Lord Haleston’s life – one was amassing facts about the natural world, the other was placing those facts in a proper, sensible order. He had spent most of his fifty-seven years doing exactly that, patiently and meticulously ordering the great pattern of living things.
Now here he was, faced with something on his very doorstep that not only upset the applecart but also dashed it into a thousand pieces.
And as the young man in the strange suit and overcoat came bounding towards him, a striking girl from the colonies close on his heels, he sensed at once that here was something else come to stamp upon those cart-splinters. But at least it was something he could shout at.
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‘Who the devil are you two?’ Haleston demanded. ‘This area is closed to press and public alike. What do you mean by barging into a secret government enquiry?’
But the young man spoke at a pace and foghorn volume that matched his own exactly. ‘I’m the Doctor and this is Miss Martha Jones, your grace. I’m an expert in, oohhh, most things, really; she’s an expert in the very latest medical training. And when you’ve listened to what I’ve got to say you’ll probably need some!’ He drew a deep breath and smiled cockily at the stunned onlookers. ‘And as if all that wasn’t enough, Mr Victor Meredith will now vouch for us. Here he is!’
Haleston blinked as Victor’s concerned face poked out from behind one of the beast’s colossal claws. ‘I’ll vouch for the Doctor, all right, Henry. And the young lady’s a visitor from Freedonia, you know. Pin sharp and bright as a button.’
‘Really, Victor.’ Haleston frowned. ‘I’m afraid I’m most fearfully busy, so if you’ve satisfied your curiosity and that of your friends. . . ?’
‘Satisfied, Henry? I should say not!’ Victor stared at one of the creature’s weighty talons. ‘You never said the brute was this enormous or I’d have brought a dozen cannon instead of the four-bore!’
‘Oh, by the way, H.H. sends his regards, Lord Haleston,’ the Doctor announced suddenly, ‘and hopes your enquiry will soon be concluded successfully.’
‘H.H.?’ Haleston blinked. ‘Do you mean to tell me, sir, that you are an emissary of our Prime Minister, Mr Asquith?’
‘Emissary? He’s a mate of mine!’ The Doctor bounded over to study the fallen monster’s fearful teeth. ‘We’ve had some wild times, me and H.H., let me tell you. I remember this one time there was me, H.H., Dave “The Rave" Lloyd George and this leaky bottle of soda water, right. . . ’
‘The Doctor has certain specialist knowledge he believes may help with your enquiry,’ Martha broke in, with a warm smile. ‘In the interests of public safety he thought it a good idea to share it.’
‘Oh?’ Haleston’s eyes narrowed. ‘A dependable sighting of this other beast rumoured to be on the loose?’
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‘Not quite,’ she told him. ‘But important anyway.’
‘Hmm. Seems you’re another piece of the puzzle that doesn’t fit,’
said Haleston more gently. ‘An erudite and gentle maiden accompanying such a cocksure young rip!’
‘Cocksure, that’s me,’ the Doctor agreed, circling the giant, devastated head of the beast. ‘Cocksure that this creature and the other beast that’s been sighted are not of Earthly origin.’
Haleston stared. ‘Not of Earthly origin?’
‘Oh, come on, your lordship, that’s not such a big leap of imagination for a man of learning like yourself, surely?’ He grabbed a hacksaw from one of the orderlies. ‘You haven’t been able to shave off a single scrap of skin, have you? You’ve sawed and chopped and hacked away, but you haven’t made a mark, right? Am I right? I’m right.’ He banged the saw against a shard of the creature’s skull. The bone chimed like a bell.
‘Metal,’ said Martha quietly as the chime died away.
‘An alloy not known on this planet,’ the Doctor agreed, now peering to inspect two of the enormous teeth. ‘And tell me, Lord Haleston, in your considerable experience, have you ever come across a living creature with a cranium constructed of so dense a material as-?’ He broke off, scrubbed at something close to the monster’s gum line. ‘Whoops, you’re a politician, aren’t you? You spend your life surrounded by them.’
‘Kindly keep your hands off the specimen!’ Haleston bristled. ‘And, may I add, this is not a matter for levity, sir!’
‘Very true!’ The Doctor snatched his hand from out between the monster’s teeth and stuffed it in his pocket. ‘Good point, excellent, I’m glad you brought that up.’ He squared up to Lord Haleston. ‘Frankly, I’d say it was a matter for panic, pandemonium and searching questions in very high places. Because here’s the news flash: we have in front of us a giant aquatic cyborg that can’t be stopped by anything on Earth – and yet it’s been stopped. Seriously, top-of-the-head-blown-apart sort of stopped.’
Martha nodded. ‘But stopped by what?’
The Doctor gestured to the beast’s shattered cranium. ‘The damage 18
here suggests an intense heat and a very sudden impact – from within the head.’
‘I had come to the same conclusion,’ said Haleston, grudgingly.
Victor’s mouth had been flapping open and shut but now he finally forced out in an incredulous tone: ‘But. . . whatever could cause such a thing?’
Who feels they could use some of that medical attention I mentioned, hmm?’
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‘Well, going for the subtle approach really worked, didn’t it?’
Martha looked at the Doctor as he drove them through the darkening evening. ‘Ooh! Hang on, what’s this?’ She put a finger to his ear and pretended to stare at it closely. ‘Oh yes, it’s the flea in your ear Haleston sent you away with, for asking him to believe in two lots of aliens on the same day.’
The Doctor shrugged as he slowed down at a crossroads. ‘Is it my fault you humans have got such closed minds? I only hope this alien hunter doesn’t blow them wide open.’
Martha frowned. ‘Why would an alien hunter bother with humans if it’s after this other Skarasen?’
‘D’you reckon Victor would cry much if a stray rabbit caught the shot he’d meant for a grouse?’
‘Um. . . possibly not.’ She looked back at Victor, who was snoring quite calmly in the back, a noise that rivalled the chugging engine for volume. ‘Taking it all very calmly, isn’t he?’
‘Stoic’s the word,’ the Doctor agreed, as they rattled away down yet another country lane.
Victor had, it seemed, been prepared to countenance a metallic 21
dinosaur staring him in the face. But, at the thought of ‘big game hunters from Mars’, he’d simply guffawed, clapped the Doctor heartily on the back and led him quickly back to the car before Haleston’s oaths could grow any more colourful. After all, there was a lady present.
Martha shivered, grateful for the Doctor’s coat about her shoulders.
Her outfit offered little protection from the chill wind, and the dark clouds billowing overhead promised rain. They were just as grey and formless as the landscape stretching out around them, softened with the fall of dusk.