PROLOGUE
Ludie turned over in bed. She was tired, but sleep never came; it was one of those nights. At first, she had been too hot and consequently drew up a fan to her bedside, but then she was too cold. It was a battle for some middle ground of comfort, but as Ludie lay in bed, she knew this wasn’t it.
She checked her watch.
2:13 AM.
She would have to be up soon - within the next half hour. She attempted sleep once more but it never came. And soon it was time to get up.
As she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, toothbrush in hand she noted she now felt more tired than she had the entirety of her time in bed. She attributed this to the monotonous action that was brushing teeth. It was the year 2532 but humankind had still yet to find a way to make brushing teeth the slightest bit fun. After this was completed, she undressed and moved into the shower.
The shower water scalded her skin - she let out a yelp - before desperately trying to work the taps. Taps were a big struggle. She never understood why they seemed differed so much from bathroom to bathroom. Surely, it would be easier to have a singular tap design. She had been living in the flat for seven months now and she still didn’t quite have the hang of it. Oh great - now the water was too cold.
And then it came to buttoning up her nurse’s uniform. It was a blue, shapeless shirt that hung from her thin frame in the most uncomplimentary way to match the matching pair of overly baggy trousers. In the dark her fingers struggled to find the hole which corresponded to each button. After a few failed attempts and far fewer successful ones, she turned her attentions to the drawstring of her trousers which she tightened. She sat down on the bed to slip on a pair of shoes.
“Are you going now?” A voice lumbered from the other side of the bed. She hadn’t realised she had awoken him.
“Yeah, early morning shift.”
“I suppose I’ll be gone by the time you get back.”
Ludie nodded. “I suppose.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
She left after he landed a mildly slobbery kiss on her cheek. She couldn’t blame him. It was three in the morning - he was tired. She was tired. She didn’t want to be doing this. She wanted to stay in bed - to crawl beneath the covers and feel the warmth of another body close to hers. But she couldn’t complain. She needed the money.
The only problem in her life was money. She never had enough money.
***
“Uncle,” The little girl looked up at the man. He wasn’t really her uncle, but he might as well have been. “Why are you fighting with aunty?”
“She’s being silly, that’s all.”
“Has she been fired from her job?”
“No, Saffie, she hasn’t - but it doesn’t pay enough and we need money.”
“So, she’s looking for a new job?”
“Yes, and she found one but it’s a stupid idea. She’d need to go away for a while and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“How long would she be gone?”
“Maybe a few months - maybe years. There’s no way of knowing.”
“That’s a very long time. I think I’d miss her.”
Ludie watched from the doorway. Life wasn’t fair. She had learnt that from a young age - Saffie had too, but she had taken on the responsibility of making sure the rest of Saffie’s childhood could be as normal as possible. She needed a good education.
And there it was again: the root of all her problems: money. She didn’t have the money.
***
“Aunty’s going now. Say goodbye.” But there was no response from the girl. She continued to look down at her feet and sniffling occasionally. “Go on, Saffie darling.”
“I don’t want her to go!” she cried, “It’s not fair.”
“No - it isn’t fair, you’re right,” Ludie said, “I don’t want to go either, but hopefully it won’t be very long. And it’s not all bad - you and uncle are moving next week! Think about how much bigger your bedroom will be! And your mummy will be able to stay in the spare bedroom! Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“No, it won’t be. She doesn’t care like you do.”
“Don’t be silly darling, of course she does… Look, Saffie I have to go now. But I will be home sooner than you expect. You won’t even realise I’m gone!”
The little girl looked up at her, glassy eyes. She held out her hand, her pinky extended outwards. “Promise?”
“I pinky promise!”
***
“Automatic release activated. Door opening.”
Ludie fell forward.
“Door closing.”
The last thing she saw before she had closed her eyes was his face looking back at her, smiling through the tears. She had expected to see the same when she opened them again, but, at first, there was nothing.
She could feel a cold metal surface beneath her, pressing against her, or she to it. She couldn’t tell. That was when she heard it - or at least noticed it. Perhaps it had been there the entire time, but as she scrambled to her feet she became aware of it for the first time. A sort-of… ringing in her ears. Very slight, but very much there. Distant, but again, still very much there. She looked around the room but there seemed to be no obvious source of the ringing.
She was in a large chamber. Cryo-pods surrounded her in rows - columns of the machines were stacked up endlessly. They must be her colleagues.
It was a simple operation. She would be woken from her cryo-pod whenever she was required - an on-demand nurse, she had dubbed it. But that also meant she would wake up not knowing where she was - or how long she had been suspended in a cryogenic sleep.
Each of the machines had a small screen beside them. She read the words scrawled across hers. 0.00083 days since cryo-pod ejected lifeform. Not very long at all. She tapped at the screen to gain more information. Lifeform ejected due to potentially harmful power fluctuations. So she wasn’t meant to be released. She looked around her. The room was otherwise empty of human life. If she had been released due to harmful power fluctuations, then why hadn’t everyone else?
She moved forward to the closest cryo-pod other than her own, gradually regaining complete control of her legs. A screen allowed her to peer into the machine, but a thick condensation hung over this like a veil. She wiped her hand across the screen, clearing the condensation, and peered through - there was nothing beyond the glass. She moved onto the next one. It was exactly the same. In every situation, nothing looked back at her through the glass.
She was alone.
She checked her watch.
2:13 AM.
She would have to be up soon - within the next half hour. She attempted sleep once more but it never came. And soon it was time to get up.
As she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, toothbrush in hand she noted she now felt more tired than she had the entirety of her time in bed. She attributed this to the monotonous action that was brushing teeth. It was the year 2532 but humankind had still yet to find a way to make brushing teeth the slightest bit fun. After this was completed, she undressed and moved into the shower.
The shower water scalded her skin - she let out a yelp - before desperately trying to work the taps. Taps were a big struggle. She never understood why they seemed differed so much from bathroom to bathroom. Surely, it would be easier to have a singular tap design. She had been living in the flat for seven months now and she still didn’t quite have the hang of it. Oh great - now the water was too cold.
And then it came to buttoning up her nurse’s uniform. It was a blue, shapeless shirt that hung from her thin frame in the most uncomplimentary way to match the matching pair of overly baggy trousers. In the dark her fingers struggled to find the hole which corresponded to each button. After a few failed attempts and far fewer successful ones, she turned her attentions to the drawstring of her trousers which she tightened. She sat down on the bed to slip on a pair of shoes.
“Are you going now?” A voice lumbered from the other side of the bed. She hadn’t realised she had awoken him.
“Yeah, early morning shift.”
“I suppose I’ll be gone by the time you get back.”
Ludie nodded. “I suppose.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
She left after he landed a mildly slobbery kiss on her cheek. She couldn’t blame him. It was three in the morning - he was tired. She was tired. She didn’t want to be doing this. She wanted to stay in bed - to crawl beneath the covers and feel the warmth of another body close to hers. But she couldn’t complain. She needed the money.
The only problem in her life was money. She never had enough money.
***
“Uncle,” The little girl looked up at the man. He wasn’t really her uncle, but he might as well have been. “Why are you fighting with aunty?”
“She’s being silly, that’s all.”
“Has she been fired from her job?”
“No, Saffie, she hasn’t - but it doesn’t pay enough and we need money.”
“So, she’s looking for a new job?”
“Yes, and she found one but it’s a stupid idea. She’d need to go away for a while and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“How long would she be gone?”
“Maybe a few months - maybe years. There’s no way of knowing.”
“That’s a very long time. I think I’d miss her.”
Ludie watched from the doorway. Life wasn’t fair. She had learnt that from a young age - Saffie had too, but she had taken on the responsibility of making sure the rest of Saffie’s childhood could be as normal as possible. She needed a good education.
And there it was again: the root of all her problems: money. She didn’t have the money.
***
“Aunty’s going now. Say goodbye.” But there was no response from the girl. She continued to look down at her feet and sniffling occasionally. “Go on, Saffie darling.”
“I don’t want her to go!” she cried, “It’s not fair.”
“No - it isn’t fair, you’re right,” Ludie said, “I don’t want to go either, but hopefully it won’t be very long. And it’s not all bad - you and uncle are moving next week! Think about how much bigger your bedroom will be! And your mummy will be able to stay in the spare bedroom! Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“No, it won’t be. She doesn’t care like you do.”
“Don’t be silly darling, of course she does… Look, Saffie I have to go now. But I will be home sooner than you expect. You won’t even realise I’m gone!”
The little girl looked up at her, glassy eyes. She held out her hand, her pinky extended outwards. “Promise?”
“I pinky promise!”
***
“Automatic release activated. Door opening.”
Ludie fell forward.
“Door closing.”
The last thing she saw before she had closed her eyes was his face looking back at her, smiling through the tears. She had expected to see the same when she opened them again, but, at first, there was nothing.
She could feel a cold metal surface beneath her, pressing against her, or she to it. She couldn’t tell. That was when she heard it - or at least noticed it. Perhaps it had been there the entire time, but as she scrambled to her feet she became aware of it for the first time. A sort-of… ringing in her ears. Very slight, but very much there. Distant, but again, still very much there. She looked around the room but there seemed to be no obvious source of the ringing.
She was in a large chamber. Cryo-pods surrounded her in rows - columns of the machines were stacked up endlessly. They must be her colleagues.
It was a simple operation. She would be woken from her cryo-pod whenever she was required - an on-demand nurse, she had dubbed it. But that also meant she would wake up not knowing where she was - or how long she had been suspended in a cryogenic sleep.
Each of the machines had a small screen beside them. She read the words scrawled across hers. 0.00083 days since cryo-pod ejected lifeform. Not very long at all. She tapped at the screen to gain more information. Lifeform ejected due to potentially harmful power fluctuations. So she wasn’t meant to be released. She looked around her. The room was otherwise empty of human life. If she had been released due to harmful power fluctuations, then why hadn’t everyone else?
She moved forward to the closest cryo-pod other than her own, gradually regaining complete control of her legs. A screen allowed her to peer into the machine, but a thick condensation hung over this like a veil. She wiped her hand across the screen, clearing the condensation, and peered through - there was nothing beyond the glass. She moved onto the next one. It was exactly the same. In every situation, nothing looked back at her through the glass.
She was alone.
A Small measure of time
written by james oswald
part three
Vicki was quiet for the remainder of the trip. She looked contemplative, sat, perched on one of the chairs in the living quarters of the TARDIS, tapping one hand with another like some sort of nervous twitch. She hadn’t noticed the Doctor arrive at the door. He let out a small cough.
She looked up and smiled. Very convincingly.
“Are you okay, my dear?”
She nodded, “I just miss Barbara and Ian.”
The Doctor nodded and accepted this. Although not entirely. It was different: she wasn’t sad, she was concerned.
“We’ll be landing in five minutes,” he announced.
“I’ll join you in the console room in a minute.”
The Doctor took this for what it was - she wanted him to go - curtly nodded and left. And so Vicki sat alone. Contemplative. Concerned. Frightened.
Something was wrong with her.
***
Day 33
Dear Harry,
A distant drumming caused Ludie to look up from the paper. It sounded like someone banging on a door. She waited for awhile, listening for a confirmation that she had in fact heard this and she had not imagined it. But it did not come.
I dreamt of you. Again. And it was the same. You, in your suit. A bouquet. Roses. And that was it. I woke up and you weren't here.
There it was again. She definitely heard it this time. A voice could be made out too. Was it them? Were they trying to lure her out of the safety of the living quarters? They were out there, the Nightwalkers.
She did not quite know when this name - the Nightwalkers - became attached to them, but it seemed right. Perhaps they had communicated it to her in her dreams, trying to make themselves known to her, but why? What did they want?
The drumming grew in intensity now, growing more urgent by the second. She placed down her pen and got to her feet. It seemed to be coming from the eastern corridor. She ducked under the tarpaulin and made her way into the corridor, stretching out in front of her.
As she got closer to the end of the corridor, stray words were audible, “Help… help…” It was a woman’s voice, but more importantly one she didn’t recognise. It wasn’t a memory - at least not hers. She picked up the pace until she was running. She stopped before the door. There was silence.
This was a big risk. All the Nightwalkers wanted was proximity. Even by standing in the corridor she was in more danger than before. In a way, the harm had already been done. So how more harmful would opening the door be? She could accidentally let them in perhaps, but then again she could always flee. The fog was always slow moving. She could lock the connecting door to this corridor and never enter it again. They would gain ground, close in on her even more, but at least she would know not to be so stupid ever again. But for now she would be stupid. She’d take that risk. Because if she didn’t...
The drumming again. “Help!”
Ludie’s mind was made up. She placed her hand on the scanner and the door slip open. Suddenly a shape was falling through the door towards her. Ludie jumped backwards and a metallic clang rang out it crumpled against the floor. It was a woman. She was unconscious. Another person moved through the door - this time it was a man. He rushed to the woman’s side. Fog began to drift through the open door, tumbling over the threshold. Ludie, realising the gravity of this, lurched forward to the scanner, placing her hand on the scanner. The door successively closed and remaining fog dissipated.
Thousands of thoughts rushed through her heads, questions to be answered - who the hell were they? what were they doing here? were they rescue? - but a deeply-rooted professionalism in her rose above it.
“Is she breathing?” Ludie turned her attention to the woman.
The man furrowed his brow, “I don’t know, I-”
Ludie pressed two finger against her inner-wrist. She could feel the faint beat of her pulse. She reported this to the man. He sighed a sigh of relief.
“She may have a concussion, we’re going to need to lay her down on some blankets, get her comfortable. Can you carry her?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Come, this way.”
The man hauled her into his arms and followed Ludie down the corridor.
“Are you a nurse?” he asked.
She nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Ludie, and yours?”
“I’m Ian, this,” he cocked his head towards the unconscious woman, “is Barbara.”
***
The Doctor busied himself. It was easier that way - there was no time to sit and think about them. It was better just to get on with life.
He heard light footfalls on the opposite side of the console room. Careful not to look up too quickly he let out a small cough, tinkered with some controls (ones which, in his time in the TARDIS, he had found to do nothing at all) and finally looked up across the console.
For a moment he had expected three faces staring back at him. That was the problem with busying himself. He forgot. But it wasn’t the forgetting he had an issue with, it was the remembering that followed that caused the problem. The emotions flooded back, all at once. They were more painful that way.
“Doctor,” Vicki begun.
“Yes,” - the Doctor let out a nervous cough - “what is it, my dear?”
“I’ve been thinking - about home.”
“Earth?”
“No, Astra.”
This came as a surprise to the Doctor. Vicki had never made it to the Earth colony of Astra - her ship had crashed on route. Yet, she still viewed it as ‘home’. It was curious to say the least. Perhaps, because she had nowhere else to call a home. Except, he thought, she had here, in the TARDIS - with him. He nodded encouragingly.
“I was just wondering,” Vicki paused, clearly of two minds - whether to say what she had to say or not. Deciding on the former, she continued, “Perhaps, one day if you landed in my time we could go see it. Of course, I don’t want to stay there, but-” she trailed off.
The words lingered in the air. Maybe she didn’t want to stay on Astra now but she could her mind could easily be changed. Maybe she’d end up leaving him, like Ian, like Barbara, like Susan.
The Doctor smiled, “Of course, my dear. I shall see what I can do.” He turned to the TARDIS console and pressed a few further buttons that - in his experience - did nothing. As soon as he did they were thrown violently forward in the air.
For a second, the TARDIS was jolting its passengers this way and that until finally it came to rest. Smoke rose from the console.
“Doctor,” Vicki coughed the smoke from her lungs, “what was that?”
“I don’t know.” As he clambered to his feet he worried that perhaps one of those buttons did do something after all, but his fears were rested when he saw the TARDIS’ many dials and displays, “The TARDIS couldn’t enter the vortex. Perhaps the fluid link has run dry.” In the confusion of the room, Vicki didn’t quite catch what he was inspecting as he ducked under the TARDIS console but she knew his inspection had proved fruitless when he mumbled the weary words: “No, all in order.”
“Then, what caused it?”
“I don’t know,” he flicked various switches and the time rotor began to move again, “Hopefully, it was nothing. A minor hitch…” But Vicki saw that expression on his face, an expression of worry. A machine this complex could not afford a minor hitch. There were no minor hitches - only major ones, especially if it impaired their ability to take off.
The time rotor began to pulse up and down again as the Doctor reattempted take off, but it juddered and groaned to a stop and then the console room began to fill with smoke, much denser stuff than before.
“Out! Out!” The Doctor’s hand clasped Vicki’s as they rushed to the TARDIS doors and out into the darkness beyond.
“It was like something was draining the power,” the Doctor paused and, rapping his knuckles against his chin, let out a signature ‘hm’, “I could stimulate the engine with thermal-couplings for a little boost. It would only be for a little while but it’d be enough to get us into the vortex. Something is not keen on letting us escape. The TARDIS has been anchored to the spot.”
***
He looked to be in his thirties, a good ten years older than herself. The woman was the same. Both were also a good foot taller and shared the same chestnut-brown hair colour. She thought they could be related. She glanced back at him. No, they were not relatives. He did not look ahead, only at her, and there was affection in his eyes. Not a brotherly affection, but one much stronger and much more complicated than that.
She guided him out of the eastern spoke corridor and into a series of corridors. They seemed to be travelling inward into the centre of the station. Finally, they came to a door leading into a large centre room.
“What is this place?”
She abruptly answered over her shoulder as she guided him across the room, weaving in and out of the room’s many features, “Living quarters.”
It was like a living room, a dining room and a various others combined into one. Ian saw a series of tables which reminded him of the Coal Hill dining room, except everything was much more shiny and metal-y. In another area was some television screens, large ones, much bigger than the ones he got back home and all the more thinner as well, but it appeared a long time had passed since they were used. There were ping-pong tables, pool tables, dart boards, and various other leisure items, many Ian was sure weren’t around in his own time. This very much was a ‘living quarters’ with absolutely everything you could possibly need, Ian thought.
At last they came into an area where all the furniture had been pushed aside to form a large clearing. In this tarpaulin hung across rows of stacked chairs and severed table legs to form a sort of den, protected from the grandiose of the rest of the room. Ludie led him to one corner where beanbags and blankets were piled. She signalled for him to place Barbara down here. He did so.
“She seemed to bang her head when she fell. Hopefully, it’s nothing more,” Ludie said.
Ian wondered what she meant by this but was too busy adjusting the piled blankets beneath Barbara to reply. Satisfied with his work, he settled down to sit by Barbara’s side.
“Will she be okay? It’s nothing serious, is it?”
“No,” Ludie concluded, “I don’t think so.”
“You said you hoped Barbara had passed out when she hit her head and nothing more - what did you mean by that?”
She opened her mouth to answer but the answer never came. There it was again, drumming, almost identical. Like someone banging on a door.
“Is there anyone else aboard this station?” Ian asked.
Ludie paused before she answered. “I was going to ask you the same question.”
A chill ran down Ian’s spine.
Two bangs.
He got to his feet, “Is it them, the figures?”
“The Nightwalkers…” she said, “I don’t know. They haven’t done this before.”
“Perhaps they are mirroring us, learning from us?”
“Perhaps… It’s coming from this direction, the western sector.”
“We were there not long ago - that’s where we first - er - boarded the station, Barbara and I. It seemed pretty safe.”
“Did it?”
“Well there weren’t any Nightwalkers. ”
“What do we do?”
“What can we do?”
“I suppose we could go check. You got aboard this ship, surely someone else could.”
“Our methods of arrival weren’t exactly normal. We didn’t just climb in through the window.”
“How did you get in then?”
“It’s… complicated.”
“Do you have a gun?”
“No, do you?”
Ludie shook her head. The drumming continued.
***
At first, Vicki thought they were in the same meadow as before, only it was very dark. Once her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she noticed her mistake. They were in a corridor - metallic walls either side of them curved round. A door stood ten feet from the TARDIS along the inner wall, leading inwards. This, however, did not function. A disappointing ‘all access denied’ denied her the fun. This, however, did not stop a determined Vicki.
“Vicki, please stop that, you’re giving me a headache.”
“I thought I heard voices,” she rested her ear against the door, “Hello? Is anybody in there?” She continued to drum her fists against the door.
“This station is long abandoned.” He glanced up the darkened corridors, “And we’ve been here long enough, don’t you think?”
“Still, I’d like to explore,” Vicki said, “We can find out why it was abandoned.”
“My dear, there is not always a mystery behind every instance in the universe,” he snapped. When he spoke again it was much softer, “Look, I’m sorry, my child, but this is quite an unfriendly place. I think we best be going. The smoke should have cleared by now.”
It wasn’t like this before, she thought, before Ian and Barbara had left. He was happier. She was too. Vicki trudged back through the TARDIS door but paused when the Doctor did not follow.
“Doctor, come on!”
And still he did not come.
“Doctor-”
He seemed to be studying his left hand intensely, like he had back in the meadow.
“Doctor, what is it?”
“My hand, my dear, the hairs are standing on ends.”
“Just like back in that meadow with that creature.”
“Yes, my child, most worrying…”
“You said the TARDIS had failed to take off, but we’re here now. Do you think, maybe it followed us?”
The Doctor slowly rotated his hand as he studied it. Then, he quickly clasped it to a fist. “No - not quite. It can’t follow us if we haven’t moved. Come on, child. Let’s get away from here.”
***
Ian and Ludie ran down the corridor. There was no more drumming, but they could hear voices, muffled murmurs of words. Ian reached the corridor and placed his hand across the panel.
‘Access denied’ the screen read.
He stepped aside and turned to Ludie. She placed her hand on the panel and it glowed a warm green before the door slid open.
No one stood beyond the darkness.
***
“Shh! Doctor, what’s that? Can you hear that? Footsteps.”
“No, my dear, I think you are imagining it. The dark is like that. It makes you hear things, see things.”
Vicki frowned. It wasn’t just ‘the dark’ that made you hear things - and see things too - things that weren’t there. She was sure she had heard something but - then again - she was sure she had been lifted into the air by the fog, by her father.
She followed the Doctor into the TARDIS, the door shutting firmly behind them.
***
“There’s no one here.” Ian announced. There was no need to. Ludie could see the empty corridor ahead for herself.
“Perhaps, we got it wrong,” Ian said, “Perhaps, they are in the south-western corridor.”
They weren’t sure who ‘they’ were. Humans, possibly. Nightwalkers, more likely. But this was not a time to be rational. It was a time to hope. A time to do something stupid. A time to potentially throw themselves into a swarm of Nightwalkers. A time to not care about that because they were running already, Ian in lead, Ludie not far behind. They were doing it.
***
“We only have a single chance. One chance. If we do not succeed-” He needn’t have finished the sentence but he did, “We will be stranded here. We cannot stop the flightpath once we’ve started take-off.”
The Doctor carried a round disk between gloved hands. There was a certain dexterity to his movement that told Vicki the disk was either precious or very harmful. Either way, she knew to stand clear. He knelt over at the TARDIS console, opened a compartment into the underbelly of the sleek metal control panel and gently placed the disk inside.
“All they need,” he said, “is a little… stimulation.” The time rotor sprung to life.
They were taking off.
***
Loud footfalls filled the metal prison around them, bouncing off the walls, filling the air completely… Almost completely. There was something else, a distant sign of life, like the rising and falling of heavy breathing.
Ian cried, “It’s the TARDIS! I can hear the TARDIS, Ludie! It’s the Doctor!”
The footfalls became more frequent and significantly louder.
***
Vicki watched the rising and falling time rotor it as her mind drifted elsewhere. There were whole other worlds out there, thousands of planets to explore. She missed Ian and Barbara, yes, but hand in hand with the wheezing and groaning of the TARDIS motor came adventure. It was a wonderful sound. She listened to it. At that moment it was her favourite sound in the world. In the next, she hated it.
She had heard it again - voices in the distance. She hadn’t been imagining it, but more importantly - one of the voices was familiar to her.
“Doctor, it’s Ian! Ian is outside the TARDIS.”
The Doctor consulted the TARDIS scanner. It displayed a dark part of the corridor, but in the darkness there was movement. Ian moved into frame. It was him. It was really him. But it was too late. She knew the TARDIS had begun take-off.
The TARDIS was between one world and the next.
But the Doctor thought otherwise. He danced around the console, flicking switches this way and that, desperate to override the machine’s take-off. It groaned, not its usual wheezing but a groan of resistance, like brakes being applied to a fast-moving car. For a second, maybe, she hoped, it worked. It seemed to. The TARDIS column juddered, no longer producing a fluid up and down motion until -
The world stood still.
***
“Here’s something from me!” She handed over a parcel.
Words were written across its surface: ‘For Barbara, my darling daughter. Love Mummy xxx’. The ‘R’ was written in such a funny way it almost looked like an ‘N’. This had always confused Barbara, the ways grown-ups wrote certain letters. So fancy and always with the little tails that merged into other letters, but this wasn’t the first time she had seen that ‘R’ that looked like an ‘N’. Her mummy always did it. Her dad’s was much more like hers, a little messy and not all joined up like mummy’s.
The little girl snatched the present and set about tearing the brown wrapping paper into tiny pieces. She produced a thin hardback book.
“Captain Cook’s Travels,” she read.
“I thought you might enjoy it! I know I did when I was younger.” The mother beamed at her daughter, ten today. This should have been a happy occasion but Barbara had been watching the door all day long. At first Joan had thought she had been hoping for some cards in the post, a bit of money from her gran - but the postman had been and gone, and yet she continued. Watching. And the worst part of all was that she did it expectantly. Waiting.
“What is it, dear? Are you missing dad?”
Barbara nodded.
“Oh, I’m sorry, darling. You know how it is! He wishes he could be here, so very much!”
“What if he’s forgotten about me?”
“Don’t be silly, Barbie, of course he hasn’t!”
“How do you know?”
“He told me himself,” She stood up from her seat and returned to the room a moment later, envelope in hand, “For you.”
There was a glint in her eye as she carefully pulled the sheet of paper out of the envelope, unfolding it with great precision. Joan shouldn’t have bothered with presents - this was always going to be the greatest gift of all.
“What does it say?”
“He wishes he could be here and… he’s proud of me for getting an A in History…”
“Isn’t it wonderful?”
She nodded, and yet the corners of her mouth were turned down.
“I’ll go get you a nice piece of cake, how about that then?”
Joan left with no sign of recognition from her daughter. She was distracted. The letter… She looked at the small cursive handwriting.
‘Dear Barbie,’
She frowned. The ‘R’... She reached for the crumpled section of brown paper, that which has wrapped her present, at her side and unfolded it. It was ripped but she was able to make out a ‘For Barba-’. She looked closely.
She remembered, a few weeks back, there was a knock on the door - she thought it was the postman, but he wore a uniform. It was almost militaristic. She remembered how, ever since then, her mummy had been acting differently. She was smiling now - but in that smile there was something else, a hint that - perhaps - it was forced.
She remembered those three letters which didn’t mean very much to her at all, but the world to mummy. It didn’t make sense. What did they mean? What did M.I.A mean?
Joan returned to find her daughter comparing the envelope with a scrap of brown paper.
It was the same ‘R’.
Barbara’s eyes snapped open.
For a few seconds of uninterrupted naivety, Barbara was happy. But those few seconds were just a few seconds and they came to a close too soon. And she remembered everything that happened, and everything that didn’t happen either. They never landed in Shoreditch. It was all some hallucination. The Doctor had left them behind… And then there was the fog… The figures… That ringing. That terrible ringing It was only a few seconds, but that was all it took for panic to build up. She lurched forward and cried out.
“I’ve got you! I’ve got you!” She felt warm hands grab her, pulling her into a hug.
Her eyes adjusted to the light and she pulled away, “Oh, Ian! It’s you!
But for the those few seconds she was happy again.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Oh, not long,” Ian smiled weakly, “A couple hours.”
She looked past him. They were in some sort of… den. Tarpaulin was pulled across above their heads, as well as stacked furniture, forming makeshift walls. She lay on a pile of blankets and beanbags. Ian was sitting on a stool not far from the bed, pointed directly at her. She suddenly felt very conscious - had he been watching her sleep? She adjusted herself until she was sitting up against the blankets, not quite possessing the strength to stand up.
“We’re in the living quarters now,” he replied to the unasked question, “of the space station.”
“I see… What happened - after I fainted?”
A broad smile broke across his face - Barbara felt a surge of security overcome her. “You were right. We’re not alone.”
Barbara took a deep breath.
“There are people aboard the station? Passengers?”
A familiar voice erupted not far to her right, “No, not quite.”
It was the Doctor and at his side, Vicki. And she was happy. For a lot longer this time.
***
In the western spoke corridor, the air grew thick. What was otherwise an empty, dark corridor now capacitated a dense fog, an entity.
But there was no one there to see it.
The door to the western sector had only been open for a few of seconds - three at most - while the couple had tumbled through. It wasn’t long, but it was enough - just for a little bit of the fog to tumble over the threshold, to seemingly dissipate into the air. Only it wasn't gone. It was still there, lingering. But the thing with an alien entity hijacking huon particles in the air is that a little bit is enough. A tiny molecule of the entity is enough to hijack an entire room of huon particles.
But there was no one there to realise this.
Soon the entire corridor was filled with the dense fog, pummelling this way and that, faces appearing only briefly in the chaos, faces of loved ones, of lost ones. And then it began to move, towards the door, towards the living quarters, towards the Doctor, Vicki, Ian, Barbara and Ludie.
But there was no one there to warn them.
***
“You see, huon particles, they fill the air. Wherever we are - these Nightwalkers have hijacked them,” the Doctor waved his hands extravagantly around as he explained to Barbara, “The way these particles function is through molecular bonding on electromagnetic frequencies which allows particles separated by a great physical distance switch places in a matter of second. Hijacking the particles allows them to feed us information, things that may not strictly be true- ah, thank you, my dear.”
A girl had ducked under the tarpaulin and set about handing out mugs of some unknown substance. Barbara imagined it was probably a weird nutritional astronaut beverage. She’d had enough of those to decide they were best avoided.
“I’m glad you’re alive.” Despite this being slightly morbid, the girl was smiling. She seemed like the type of person to always look for the good in bad situations. She was of average height - auburn hair lightly brushed her shoulders as she approached. She had a small nose and eyes that seemed large in contrast. Ian noted how different she was when relaxed. The professionalism he had seen in her during their first encounter was nowhere to be seen.
Barbara swivelled around so her legs were bent around the edge of the makeshift bed,“Thank you…”
“Ludie. I’m Ludie.”
“Thank you, Ludie. I’m Barbara.”
“I know. I’ve heard lots about you.”
Barbara returned her attention to the mug in he hand. She inspected the liquid - it was a pale grey, quite unappealing in colour, but not thick and viscous as she had expected. She eventually took an intrepid sip and smiled. It was Earl Grey.
“You have tea then?” Barbara cooed, “Not some weird space… mucus…”
Ludie simply looked at her bemusedly. “You lot are funny. Your clothes,” she paused and then broached a question that caused the group to be taken aback, moreso due to the fact she said it without her smile faltering at all.
“You’re not rescue, are you?” It seemed she was just happy to be in human company.
“No. Not really, my dear. We are travellers ourselves - simply passing by,” the Doctor placed his arm around the young girl and led her away from Barbara and Ian. Vicki looked at the pair of schoolteachers and, suddenly showing keen interest in the Doctor and Ludie’s conversation followed after the pair.
Ian helped Barbara to her feet, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.” she smiled sweetly.
“Ludie was good help. She’s a nurse,” Ian explained. Barbara followed Ian’s gaze to the girl across the room. “She’s very young - it isn’t fair, her being stuck here.”
For the first time Barbara noticed the subtle framing of beauty in her face. Her nose was oddly-shaped and her eyes unusual in shape and colour, but she was rather pretty in an unorthodox yet endearing way. She could only be in her early twenties at most. As Ian had said, she was very young. She knew he was just being compassionate, but nonetheless she felt a pang of jealousy to hear Ian say such things. Her mind drifted elsewhere and when Ian looked back at her he noticed her smile had faded.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just I suppose a part of me was hoping, this part was a dream, not the other part. Not Shoreditch.”
“Still, Vicki looks happy.”
“I suppose she must be.”
The conversation, having reached its natural stopping point, Barbara chose to explore the small space. Various cardboard boxes were piled against one side. Barbara assumed this to be Ludie’s food supply. Beside this a large stack of envelopes lay scattered across the floor. The only other point of interest in the room was a weathered paperback which lay beside the blankets. Barbara turned it over. It was ‘Sense and Sensibility’ by Jane Austen. A classic - Barbara remembered her mother reading her parts of it when she was young but she had never understood the words. They were all so complex and far beyond her comprehension.
It was then the details of her dream returned to her. It had been her tenth birthday when she found out her dad had died. She remembered for a while after that day she refused to speak to her mum. She had lied to her, her own mother had lied to her. Of course, she was protecting her from the truth but it still hurt. A wave of emotions rushed over her - anger, despair… and compassion.
She thought about her mum and what she would be doing in that moment, millions of lightyears away, many lifetimes ago. Perhaps she would be sitting down for an evening meal, or watching telly. Alone. The anger and despair faded until there was only compassion. She was an old woman now - she should be enjoying the years she had left with her family, not alone. It wasn’t fair.
She picked up the copy of ‘Sense and Sensibility’. Blue ink letters spelled ‘For Ludie xxx’ on the inside cover.
“It’s not my usual thing.” Barbara looked up to see Ludie standing in front of her.
“My mother read this to me as a child,” Barbara began, “I haven’t read it in years.”
“Harry gave it to me before I left. It’s his favourite.”
Ludie, like herself, had someone to go back to, once she got away from here - wherever ‘here’ was.
“Ludie, what is this place?”
“Specillum-15 space station.”
“I know that much, but what exactly is it? Surely you must know.”
“From what I gathered, some sort of probe. The upper floor is a laboratory - but I don’t know what for.”
Barbara remembered the blueprint they had found in the control room. The laboratory was presumably above their heads. “Surely you must have some idea - you work aboard this ship, as a nurse - is that right?”
“Yes,” Ludie nodded enthusiastically, “But I only woke up thirty-three days ago and everyone was gone by then.”
Barbara frowned. She was missing something, “Thirty-three days?”
“I’m an on-demand nurse - I was suspended in a cryo-pod. I was supposed to be awoken whenever I was required, but thirty-three days ago I woke up here and it was empty.”
“An on-demand nurse,” Barbara repeated.
Ludie nodded, “Exactly.”
“How long do they keep you in a cryo-pods for?”
Ludie shrugged, “We never know.”
It was efficient - there was no doubt about it - but also sickening. To regard human life that way, like some sort of robot with a power switch... If this was what the future held, she didn’t like it. When she looked up again, the Doctor, Ian and Vicki were approaching her.
“How are you feeling, my dear?” the Doctor said with an air of authority.
“I’m alright. A little tired, I suppose.”
“Of course,” the Doctor said, “You were fighting. The Nightwalkers - they were trying to work their way in, but you denied them the privilege.”
“And here I was thinking you were just conked out.” Ian remarked.
“You are safe now and that is all that matters! Now, to the matter at hand-” the Doctor paused - Vicki speculated this was for dramatic effect, “Chesterfield-”
“Chesterton,” Ian corrected.
“Chesterton,” the Doctor echoed, “You said outside the control room you saw nothing - no stars?
Ian nodded. At first there had been stars, galaxies - other worlds and then the illusion had broke giving way for the bitter reality that there was nothing out there, “It was just black… Empty of anything.”
“Nothing visible to the eye, Chatterton, but they were out there - the Nightwalkers,” the Doctor said, “What is intriguing is that these huon particles - they don’t exist in your universe; at least they haven’t done for a very long time. This leaves only one possibility - we are not in your universe, but another one.
“You see, black holes can sometimes form doors between different dimensions.This station must have been drifting for a very long time until it got caught in a black hole. Somehow, the station remained intact and somehow, it was thrown out the other side, through a white hole to here.” He gestured with his hands to their surroundings.
“Do you think the Nightwalkers were stabilising the black hole somehow?” Vicki suggested.
“Yes, to allow passage,” the Doctor paused again, this time not for dramatic effect but because he was considering the sheer power this would require. It didn’t bear thinking about. He continued, “The station must have been evacuated but Ludie - your cryo-pod was forgotten.”
The Doctor rapped his knuckles against his chin, “Now, about the TARDIS - we cannot take off. The little energy the TARDIS had was destroyed in reversing the materialisation. The Nightwalkers - they have inhibited the engine, they are anchoring the machine to the spot - luckily too, otherwise Vicki and I would have left this place a long time ago. But we can fight it. We just need a little boost from the station’s power source.” He turned to Ludie, “You said the engine room was in the hull below?”
She nodded. Ian rushed to his pocket. He produced a folded piece of paper - the blueprint! Barbara had not noticed he had kept it, “We found this in the console room.”
The Doctor inspected the map, “Yes, one floor down. That blueprint will prove quite useful!”
“That’s where the cryo-pods are,” Ludie added, “Next to the engine room - here. There are a few corridors in between.”
“Ah, isn’t that interesting!” the Doctor said, “This whole centre section - the living quarters as well as the laboratory and the engine room above and below are separate from the outer ring. It moves up and down, so all floors can be accessed from the outer ring, but that is not all. It seems the centre section can be detached completely from the outer ring and is maneuverable - there seems to a high concentration of engines along here… and here...”
She looked up and smiled. Very convincingly.
“Are you okay, my dear?”
She nodded, “I just miss Barbara and Ian.”
The Doctor nodded and accepted this. Although not entirely. It was different: she wasn’t sad, she was concerned.
“We’ll be landing in five minutes,” he announced.
“I’ll join you in the console room in a minute.”
The Doctor took this for what it was - she wanted him to go - curtly nodded and left. And so Vicki sat alone. Contemplative. Concerned. Frightened.
Something was wrong with her.
***
Day 33
Dear Harry,
A distant drumming caused Ludie to look up from the paper. It sounded like someone banging on a door. She waited for awhile, listening for a confirmation that she had in fact heard this and she had not imagined it. But it did not come.
I dreamt of you. Again. And it was the same. You, in your suit. A bouquet. Roses. And that was it. I woke up and you weren't here.
There it was again. She definitely heard it this time. A voice could be made out too. Was it them? Were they trying to lure her out of the safety of the living quarters? They were out there, the Nightwalkers.
She did not quite know when this name - the Nightwalkers - became attached to them, but it seemed right. Perhaps they had communicated it to her in her dreams, trying to make themselves known to her, but why? What did they want?
The drumming grew in intensity now, growing more urgent by the second. She placed down her pen and got to her feet. It seemed to be coming from the eastern corridor. She ducked under the tarpaulin and made her way into the corridor, stretching out in front of her.
As she got closer to the end of the corridor, stray words were audible, “Help… help…” It was a woman’s voice, but more importantly one she didn’t recognise. It wasn’t a memory - at least not hers. She picked up the pace until she was running. She stopped before the door. There was silence.
This was a big risk. All the Nightwalkers wanted was proximity. Even by standing in the corridor she was in more danger than before. In a way, the harm had already been done. So how more harmful would opening the door be? She could accidentally let them in perhaps, but then again she could always flee. The fog was always slow moving. She could lock the connecting door to this corridor and never enter it again. They would gain ground, close in on her even more, but at least she would know not to be so stupid ever again. But for now she would be stupid. She’d take that risk. Because if she didn’t...
The drumming again. “Help!”
Ludie’s mind was made up. She placed her hand on the scanner and the door slip open. Suddenly a shape was falling through the door towards her. Ludie jumped backwards and a metallic clang rang out it crumpled against the floor. It was a woman. She was unconscious. Another person moved through the door - this time it was a man. He rushed to the woman’s side. Fog began to drift through the open door, tumbling over the threshold. Ludie, realising the gravity of this, lurched forward to the scanner, placing her hand on the scanner. The door successively closed and remaining fog dissipated.
Thousands of thoughts rushed through her heads, questions to be answered - who the hell were they? what were they doing here? were they rescue? - but a deeply-rooted professionalism in her rose above it.
“Is she breathing?” Ludie turned her attention to the woman.
The man furrowed his brow, “I don’t know, I-”
Ludie pressed two finger against her inner-wrist. She could feel the faint beat of her pulse. She reported this to the man. He sighed a sigh of relief.
“She may have a concussion, we’re going to need to lay her down on some blankets, get her comfortable. Can you carry her?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Come, this way.”
The man hauled her into his arms and followed Ludie down the corridor.
“Are you a nurse?” he asked.
She nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Ludie, and yours?”
“I’m Ian, this,” he cocked his head towards the unconscious woman, “is Barbara.”
***
The Doctor busied himself. It was easier that way - there was no time to sit and think about them. It was better just to get on with life.
He heard light footfalls on the opposite side of the console room. Careful not to look up too quickly he let out a small cough, tinkered with some controls (ones which, in his time in the TARDIS, he had found to do nothing at all) and finally looked up across the console.
For a moment he had expected three faces staring back at him. That was the problem with busying himself. He forgot. But it wasn’t the forgetting he had an issue with, it was the remembering that followed that caused the problem. The emotions flooded back, all at once. They were more painful that way.
“Doctor,” Vicki begun.
“Yes,” - the Doctor let out a nervous cough - “what is it, my dear?”
“I’ve been thinking - about home.”
“Earth?”
“No, Astra.”
This came as a surprise to the Doctor. Vicki had never made it to the Earth colony of Astra - her ship had crashed on route. Yet, she still viewed it as ‘home’. It was curious to say the least. Perhaps, because she had nowhere else to call a home. Except, he thought, she had here, in the TARDIS - with him. He nodded encouragingly.
“I was just wondering,” Vicki paused, clearly of two minds - whether to say what she had to say or not. Deciding on the former, she continued, “Perhaps, one day if you landed in my time we could go see it. Of course, I don’t want to stay there, but-” she trailed off.
The words lingered in the air. Maybe she didn’t want to stay on Astra now but she could her mind could easily be changed. Maybe she’d end up leaving him, like Ian, like Barbara, like Susan.
The Doctor smiled, “Of course, my dear. I shall see what I can do.” He turned to the TARDIS console and pressed a few further buttons that - in his experience - did nothing. As soon as he did they were thrown violently forward in the air.
For a second, the TARDIS was jolting its passengers this way and that until finally it came to rest. Smoke rose from the console.
“Doctor,” Vicki coughed the smoke from her lungs, “what was that?”
“I don’t know.” As he clambered to his feet he worried that perhaps one of those buttons did do something after all, but his fears were rested when he saw the TARDIS’ many dials and displays, “The TARDIS couldn’t enter the vortex. Perhaps the fluid link has run dry.” In the confusion of the room, Vicki didn’t quite catch what he was inspecting as he ducked under the TARDIS console but she knew his inspection had proved fruitless when he mumbled the weary words: “No, all in order.”
“Then, what caused it?”
“I don’t know,” he flicked various switches and the time rotor began to move again, “Hopefully, it was nothing. A minor hitch…” But Vicki saw that expression on his face, an expression of worry. A machine this complex could not afford a minor hitch. There were no minor hitches - only major ones, especially if it impaired their ability to take off.
The time rotor began to pulse up and down again as the Doctor reattempted take off, but it juddered and groaned to a stop and then the console room began to fill with smoke, much denser stuff than before.
“Out! Out!” The Doctor’s hand clasped Vicki’s as they rushed to the TARDIS doors and out into the darkness beyond.
“It was like something was draining the power,” the Doctor paused and, rapping his knuckles against his chin, let out a signature ‘hm’, “I could stimulate the engine with thermal-couplings for a little boost. It would only be for a little while but it’d be enough to get us into the vortex. Something is not keen on letting us escape. The TARDIS has been anchored to the spot.”
***
He looked to be in his thirties, a good ten years older than herself. The woman was the same. Both were also a good foot taller and shared the same chestnut-brown hair colour. She thought they could be related. She glanced back at him. No, they were not relatives. He did not look ahead, only at her, and there was affection in his eyes. Not a brotherly affection, but one much stronger and much more complicated than that.
She guided him out of the eastern spoke corridor and into a series of corridors. They seemed to be travelling inward into the centre of the station. Finally, they came to a door leading into a large centre room.
“What is this place?”
She abruptly answered over her shoulder as she guided him across the room, weaving in and out of the room’s many features, “Living quarters.”
It was like a living room, a dining room and a various others combined into one. Ian saw a series of tables which reminded him of the Coal Hill dining room, except everything was much more shiny and metal-y. In another area was some television screens, large ones, much bigger than the ones he got back home and all the more thinner as well, but it appeared a long time had passed since they were used. There were ping-pong tables, pool tables, dart boards, and various other leisure items, many Ian was sure weren’t around in his own time. This very much was a ‘living quarters’ with absolutely everything you could possibly need, Ian thought.
At last they came into an area where all the furniture had been pushed aside to form a large clearing. In this tarpaulin hung across rows of stacked chairs and severed table legs to form a sort of den, protected from the grandiose of the rest of the room. Ludie led him to one corner where beanbags and blankets were piled. She signalled for him to place Barbara down here. He did so.
“She seemed to bang her head when she fell. Hopefully, it’s nothing more,” Ludie said.
Ian wondered what she meant by this but was too busy adjusting the piled blankets beneath Barbara to reply. Satisfied with his work, he settled down to sit by Barbara’s side.
“Will she be okay? It’s nothing serious, is it?”
“No,” Ludie concluded, “I don’t think so.”
“You said you hoped Barbara had passed out when she hit her head and nothing more - what did you mean by that?”
She opened her mouth to answer but the answer never came. There it was again, drumming, almost identical. Like someone banging on a door.
“Is there anyone else aboard this station?” Ian asked.
Ludie paused before she answered. “I was going to ask you the same question.”
A chill ran down Ian’s spine.
Two bangs.
He got to his feet, “Is it them, the figures?”
“The Nightwalkers…” she said, “I don’t know. They haven’t done this before.”
“Perhaps they are mirroring us, learning from us?”
“Perhaps… It’s coming from this direction, the western sector.”
“We were there not long ago - that’s where we first - er - boarded the station, Barbara and I. It seemed pretty safe.”
“Did it?”
“Well there weren’t any Nightwalkers. ”
“What do we do?”
“What can we do?”
“I suppose we could go check. You got aboard this ship, surely someone else could.”
“Our methods of arrival weren’t exactly normal. We didn’t just climb in through the window.”
“How did you get in then?”
“It’s… complicated.”
“Do you have a gun?”
“No, do you?”
Ludie shook her head. The drumming continued.
***
At first, Vicki thought they were in the same meadow as before, only it was very dark. Once her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she noticed her mistake. They were in a corridor - metallic walls either side of them curved round. A door stood ten feet from the TARDIS along the inner wall, leading inwards. This, however, did not function. A disappointing ‘all access denied’ denied her the fun. This, however, did not stop a determined Vicki.
“Vicki, please stop that, you’re giving me a headache.”
“I thought I heard voices,” she rested her ear against the door, “Hello? Is anybody in there?” She continued to drum her fists against the door.
“This station is long abandoned.” He glanced up the darkened corridors, “And we’ve been here long enough, don’t you think?”
“Still, I’d like to explore,” Vicki said, “We can find out why it was abandoned.”
“My dear, there is not always a mystery behind every instance in the universe,” he snapped. When he spoke again it was much softer, “Look, I’m sorry, my child, but this is quite an unfriendly place. I think we best be going. The smoke should have cleared by now.”
It wasn’t like this before, she thought, before Ian and Barbara had left. He was happier. She was too. Vicki trudged back through the TARDIS door but paused when the Doctor did not follow.
“Doctor, come on!”
And still he did not come.
“Doctor-”
He seemed to be studying his left hand intensely, like he had back in the meadow.
“Doctor, what is it?”
“My hand, my dear, the hairs are standing on ends.”
“Just like back in that meadow with that creature.”
“Yes, my child, most worrying…”
“You said the TARDIS had failed to take off, but we’re here now. Do you think, maybe it followed us?”
The Doctor slowly rotated his hand as he studied it. Then, he quickly clasped it to a fist. “No - not quite. It can’t follow us if we haven’t moved. Come on, child. Let’s get away from here.”
***
Ian and Ludie ran down the corridor. There was no more drumming, but they could hear voices, muffled murmurs of words. Ian reached the corridor and placed his hand across the panel.
‘Access denied’ the screen read.
He stepped aside and turned to Ludie. She placed her hand on the panel and it glowed a warm green before the door slid open.
No one stood beyond the darkness.
***
“Shh! Doctor, what’s that? Can you hear that? Footsteps.”
“No, my dear, I think you are imagining it. The dark is like that. It makes you hear things, see things.”
Vicki frowned. It wasn’t just ‘the dark’ that made you hear things - and see things too - things that weren’t there. She was sure she had heard something but - then again - she was sure she had been lifted into the air by the fog, by her father.
She followed the Doctor into the TARDIS, the door shutting firmly behind them.
***
“There’s no one here.” Ian announced. There was no need to. Ludie could see the empty corridor ahead for herself.
“Perhaps, we got it wrong,” Ian said, “Perhaps, they are in the south-western corridor.”
They weren’t sure who ‘they’ were. Humans, possibly. Nightwalkers, more likely. But this was not a time to be rational. It was a time to hope. A time to do something stupid. A time to potentially throw themselves into a swarm of Nightwalkers. A time to not care about that because they were running already, Ian in lead, Ludie not far behind. They were doing it.
***
“We only have a single chance. One chance. If we do not succeed-” He needn’t have finished the sentence but he did, “We will be stranded here. We cannot stop the flightpath once we’ve started take-off.”
The Doctor carried a round disk between gloved hands. There was a certain dexterity to his movement that told Vicki the disk was either precious or very harmful. Either way, she knew to stand clear. He knelt over at the TARDIS console, opened a compartment into the underbelly of the sleek metal control panel and gently placed the disk inside.
“All they need,” he said, “is a little… stimulation.” The time rotor sprung to life.
They were taking off.
***
Loud footfalls filled the metal prison around them, bouncing off the walls, filling the air completely… Almost completely. There was something else, a distant sign of life, like the rising and falling of heavy breathing.
Ian cried, “It’s the TARDIS! I can hear the TARDIS, Ludie! It’s the Doctor!”
The footfalls became more frequent and significantly louder.
***
Vicki watched the rising and falling time rotor it as her mind drifted elsewhere. There were whole other worlds out there, thousands of planets to explore. She missed Ian and Barbara, yes, but hand in hand with the wheezing and groaning of the TARDIS motor came adventure. It was a wonderful sound. She listened to it. At that moment it was her favourite sound in the world. In the next, she hated it.
She had heard it again - voices in the distance. She hadn’t been imagining it, but more importantly - one of the voices was familiar to her.
“Doctor, it’s Ian! Ian is outside the TARDIS.”
The Doctor consulted the TARDIS scanner. It displayed a dark part of the corridor, but in the darkness there was movement. Ian moved into frame. It was him. It was really him. But it was too late. She knew the TARDIS had begun take-off.
The TARDIS was between one world and the next.
But the Doctor thought otherwise. He danced around the console, flicking switches this way and that, desperate to override the machine’s take-off. It groaned, not its usual wheezing but a groan of resistance, like brakes being applied to a fast-moving car. For a second, maybe, she hoped, it worked. It seemed to. The TARDIS column juddered, no longer producing a fluid up and down motion until -
The world stood still.
***
“Here’s something from me!” She handed over a parcel.
Words were written across its surface: ‘For Barbara, my darling daughter. Love Mummy xxx’. The ‘R’ was written in such a funny way it almost looked like an ‘N’. This had always confused Barbara, the ways grown-ups wrote certain letters. So fancy and always with the little tails that merged into other letters, but this wasn’t the first time she had seen that ‘R’ that looked like an ‘N’. Her mummy always did it. Her dad’s was much more like hers, a little messy and not all joined up like mummy’s.
The little girl snatched the present and set about tearing the brown wrapping paper into tiny pieces. She produced a thin hardback book.
“Captain Cook’s Travels,” she read.
“I thought you might enjoy it! I know I did when I was younger.” The mother beamed at her daughter, ten today. This should have been a happy occasion but Barbara had been watching the door all day long. At first Joan had thought she had been hoping for some cards in the post, a bit of money from her gran - but the postman had been and gone, and yet she continued. Watching. And the worst part of all was that she did it expectantly. Waiting.
“What is it, dear? Are you missing dad?”
Barbara nodded.
“Oh, I’m sorry, darling. You know how it is! He wishes he could be here, so very much!”
“What if he’s forgotten about me?”
“Don’t be silly, Barbie, of course he hasn’t!”
“How do you know?”
“He told me himself,” She stood up from her seat and returned to the room a moment later, envelope in hand, “For you.”
There was a glint in her eye as she carefully pulled the sheet of paper out of the envelope, unfolding it with great precision. Joan shouldn’t have bothered with presents - this was always going to be the greatest gift of all.
“What does it say?”
“He wishes he could be here and… he’s proud of me for getting an A in History…”
“Isn’t it wonderful?”
She nodded, and yet the corners of her mouth were turned down.
“I’ll go get you a nice piece of cake, how about that then?”
Joan left with no sign of recognition from her daughter. She was distracted. The letter… She looked at the small cursive handwriting.
‘Dear Barbie,’
She frowned. The ‘R’... She reached for the crumpled section of brown paper, that which has wrapped her present, at her side and unfolded it. It was ripped but she was able to make out a ‘For Barba-’. She looked closely.
She remembered, a few weeks back, there was a knock on the door - she thought it was the postman, but he wore a uniform. It was almost militaristic. She remembered how, ever since then, her mummy had been acting differently. She was smiling now - but in that smile there was something else, a hint that - perhaps - it was forced.
She remembered those three letters which didn’t mean very much to her at all, but the world to mummy. It didn’t make sense. What did they mean? What did M.I.A mean?
Joan returned to find her daughter comparing the envelope with a scrap of brown paper.
It was the same ‘R’.
Barbara’s eyes snapped open.
For a few seconds of uninterrupted naivety, Barbara was happy. But those few seconds were just a few seconds and they came to a close too soon. And she remembered everything that happened, and everything that didn’t happen either. They never landed in Shoreditch. It was all some hallucination. The Doctor had left them behind… And then there was the fog… The figures… That ringing. That terrible ringing It was only a few seconds, but that was all it took for panic to build up. She lurched forward and cried out.
“I’ve got you! I’ve got you!” She felt warm hands grab her, pulling her into a hug.
Her eyes adjusted to the light and she pulled away, “Oh, Ian! It’s you!
But for the those few seconds she was happy again.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Oh, not long,” Ian smiled weakly, “A couple hours.”
She looked past him. They were in some sort of… den. Tarpaulin was pulled across above their heads, as well as stacked furniture, forming makeshift walls. She lay on a pile of blankets and beanbags. Ian was sitting on a stool not far from the bed, pointed directly at her. She suddenly felt very conscious - had he been watching her sleep? She adjusted herself until she was sitting up against the blankets, not quite possessing the strength to stand up.
“We’re in the living quarters now,” he replied to the unasked question, “of the space station.”
“I see… What happened - after I fainted?”
A broad smile broke across his face - Barbara felt a surge of security overcome her. “You were right. We’re not alone.”
Barbara took a deep breath.
“There are people aboard the station? Passengers?”
A familiar voice erupted not far to her right, “No, not quite.”
It was the Doctor and at his side, Vicki. And she was happy. For a lot longer this time.
***
In the western spoke corridor, the air grew thick. What was otherwise an empty, dark corridor now capacitated a dense fog, an entity.
But there was no one there to see it.
The door to the western sector had only been open for a few of seconds - three at most - while the couple had tumbled through. It wasn’t long, but it was enough - just for a little bit of the fog to tumble over the threshold, to seemingly dissipate into the air. Only it wasn't gone. It was still there, lingering. But the thing with an alien entity hijacking huon particles in the air is that a little bit is enough. A tiny molecule of the entity is enough to hijack an entire room of huon particles.
But there was no one there to realise this.
Soon the entire corridor was filled with the dense fog, pummelling this way and that, faces appearing only briefly in the chaos, faces of loved ones, of lost ones. And then it began to move, towards the door, towards the living quarters, towards the Doctor, Vicki, Ian, Barbara and Ludie.
But there was no one there to warn them.
***
“You see, huon particles, they fill the air. Wherever we are - these Nightwalkers have hijacked them,” the Doctor waved his hands extravagantly around as he explained to Barbara, “The way these particles function is through molecular bonding on electromagnetic frequencies which allows particles separated by a great physical distance switch places in a matter of second. Hijacking the particles allows them to feed us information, things that may not strictly be true- ah, thank you, my dear.”
A girl had ducked under the tarpaulin and set about handing out mugs of some unknown substance. Barbara imagined it was probably a weird nutritional astronaut beverage. She’d had enough of those to decide they were best avoided.
“I’m glad you’re alive.” Despite this being slightly morbid, the girl was smiling. She seemed like the type of person to always look for the good in bad situations. She was of average height - auburn hair lightly brushed her shoulders as she approached. She had a small nose and eyes that seemed large in contrast. Ian noted how different she was when relaxed. The professionalism he had seen in her during their first encounter was nowhere to be seen.
Barbara swivelled around so her legs were bent around the edge of the makeshift bed,“Thank you…”
“Ludie. I’m Ludie.”
“Thank you, Ludie. I’m Barbara.”
“I know. I’ve heard lots about you.”
Barbara returned her attention to the mug in he hand. She inspected the liquid - it was a pale grey, quite unappealing in colour, but not thick and viscous as she had expected. She eventually took an intrepid sip and smiled. It was Earl Grey.
“You have tea then?” Barbara cooed, “Not some weird space… mucus…”
Ludie simply looked at her bemusedly. “You lot are funny. Your clothes,” she paused and then broached a question that caused the group to be taken aback, moreso due to the fact she said it without her smile faltering at all.
“You’re not rescue, are you?” It seemed she was just happy to be in human company.
“No. Not really, my dear. We are travellers ourselves - simply passing by,” the Doctor placed his arm around the young girl and led her away from Barbara and Ian. Vicki looked at the pair of schoolteachers and, suddenly showing keen interest in the Doctor and Ludie’s conversation followed after the pair.
Ian helped Barbara to her feet, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.” she smiled sweetly.
“Ludie was good help. She’s a nurse,” Ian explained. Barbara followed Ian’s gaze to the girl across the room. “She’s very young - it isn’t fair, her being stuck here.”
For the first time Barbara noticed the subtle framing of beauty in her face. Her nose was oddly-shaped and her eyes unusual in shape and colour, but she was rather pretty in an unorthodox yet endearing way. She could only be in her early twenties at most. As Ian had said, she was very young. She knew he was just being compassionate, but nonetheless she felt a pang of jealousy to hear Ian say such things. Her mind drifted elsewhere and when Ian looked back at her he noticed her smile had faded.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just I suppose a part of me was hoping, this part was a dream, not the other part. Not Shoreditch.”
“Still, Vicki looks happy.”
“I suppose she must be.”
The conversation, having reached its natural stopping point, Barbara chose to explore the small space. Various cardboard boxes were piled against one side. Barbara assumed this to be Ludie’s food supply. Beside this a large stack of envelopes lay scattered across the floor. The only other point of interest in the room was a weathered paperback which lay beside the blankets. Barbara turned it over. It was ‘Sense and Sensibility’ by Jane Austen. A classic - Barbara remembered her mother reading her parts of it when she was young but she had never understood the words. They were all so complex and far beyond her comprehension.
It was then the details of her dream returned to her. It had been her tenth birthday when she found out her dad had died. She remembered for a while after that day she refused to speak to her mum. She had lied to her, her own mother had lied to her. Of course, she was protecting her from the truth but it still hurt. A wave of emotions rushed over her - anger, despair… and compassion.
She thought about her mum and what she would be doing in that moment, millions of lightyears away, many lifetimes ago. Perhaps she would be sitting down for an evening meal, or watching telly. Alone. The anger and despair faded until there was only compassion. She was an old woman now - she should be enjoying the years she had left with her family, not alone. It wasn’t fair.
She picked up the copy of ‘Sense and Sensibility’. Blue ink letters spelled ‘For Ludie xxx’ on the inside cover.
“It’s not my usual thing.” Barbara looked up to see Ludie standing in front of her.
“My mother read this to me as a child,” Barbara began, “I haven’t read it in years.”
“Harry gave it to me before I left. It’s his favourite.”
Ludie, like herself, had someone to go back to, once she got away from here - wherever ‘here’ was.
“Ludie, what is this place?”
“Specillum-15 space station.”
“I know that much, but what exactly is it? Surely you must know.”
“From what I gathered, some sort of probe. The upper floor is a laboratory - but I don’t know what for.”
Barbara remembered the blueprint they had found in the control room. The laboratory was presumably above their heads. “Surely you must have some idea - you work aboard this ship, as a nurse - is that right?”
“Yes,” Ludie nodded enthusiastically, “But I only woke up thirty-three days ago and everyone was gone by then.”
Barbara frowned. She was missing something, “Thirty-three days?”
“I’m an on-demand nurse - I was suspended in a cryo-pod. I was supposed to be awoken whenever I was required, but thirty-three days ago I woke up here and it was empty.”
“An on-demand nurse,” Barbara repeated.
Ludie nodded, “Exactly.”
“How long do they keep you in a cryo-pods for?”
Ludie shrugged, “We never know.”
It was efficient - there was no doubt about it - but also sickening. To regard human life that way, like some sort of robot with a power switch... If this was what the future held, she didn’t like it. When she looked up again, the Doctor, Ian and Vicki were approaching her.
“How are you feeling, my dear?” the Doctor said with an air of authority.
“I’m alright. A little tired, I suppose.”
“Of course,” the Doctor said, “You were fighting. The Nightwalkers - they were trying to work their way in, but you denied them the privilege.”
“And here I was thinking you were just conked out.” Ian remarked.
“You are safe now and that is all that matters! Now, to the matter at hand-” the Doctor paused - Vicki speculated this was for dramatic effect, “Chesterfield-”
“Chesterton,” Ian corrected.
“Chesterton,” the Doctor echoed, “You said outside the control room you saw nothing - no stars?
Ian nodded. At first there had been stars, galaxies - other worlds and then the illusion had broke giving way for the bitter reality that there was nothing out there, “It was just black… Empty of anything.”
“Nothing visible to the eye, Chatterton, but they were out there - the Nightwalkers,” the Doctor said, “What is intriguing is that these huon particles - they don’t exist in your universe; at least they haven’t done for a very long time. This leaves only one possibility - we are not in your universe, but another one.
“You see, black holes can sometimes form doors between different dimensions.This station must have been drifting for a very long time until it got caught in a black hole. Somehow, the station remained intact and somehow, it was thrown out the other side, through a white hole to here.” He gestured with his hands to their surroundings.
“Do you think the Nightwalkers were stabilising the black hole somehow?” Vicki suggested.
“Yes, to allow passage,” the Doctor paused again, this time not for dramatic effect but because he was considering the sheer power this would require. It didn’t bear thinking about. He continued, “The station must have been evacuated but Ludie - your cryo-pod was forgotten.”
The Doctor rapped his knuckles against his chin, “Now, about the TARDIS - we cannot take off. The little energy the TARDIS had was destroyed in reversing the materialisation. The Nightwalkers - they have inhibited the engine, they are anchoring the machine to the spot - luckily too, otherwise Vicki and I would have left this place a long time ago. But we can fight it. We just need a little boost from the station’s power source.” He turned to Ludie, “You said the engine room was in the hull below?”
She nodded. Ian rushed to his pocket. He produced a folded piece of paper - the blueprint! Barbara had not noticed he had kept it, “We found this in the console room.”
The Doctor inspected the map, “Yes, one floor down. That blueprint will prove quite useful!”
“That’s where the cryo-pods are,” Ludie added, “Next to the engine room - here. There are a few corridors in between.”
“Ah, isn’t that interesting!” the Doctor said, “This whole centre section - the living quarters as well as the laboratory and the engine room above and below are separate from the outer ring. It moves up and down, so all floors can be accessed from the outer ring, but that is not all. It seems the centre section can be detached completely from the outer ring and is maneuverable - there seems to a high concentration of engines along here… and here...”
“Like the changing of the royal guards.” Barbara muttered under her breath.
“Hm? What is that?”
Her mum and dad had taken her to see them when she was young. She remembered being fascinated by them. She continued,“I was just thinking - the royal guards - they switch positions every few hours - once the ones on duty go off, fresh guards come to replace them - so they don’t get tired. I assume this station is the same - the centre part - the shuttle can be moved out of the outer ring and something else can take its place.”
“So, it can be driven?” Ludie broached.
“Yes, it seems that way.”
“But why is it like that?” Ian asked.
“Barbara said it - these guards they will get tired - it’s inevitable - and thus they are often replaced. And it’s the same here. The floor above is a laboratory, yes?” - Ian nodded (“that’s what the blueprint says”) - “Scientists are sent out on a shuttle to a far out region of space, which then fixes itself within the outer ring to examine whatever they are out here to examine. And then, once their contracts are up, a new set of scientists are sent out on another shuttle, replacing the ones already here. But it’s not just that - it’s also convenience. Whatever they were examining required advanced technology - technology that was constantly evolving. Working on existing equipment would require taking it out of use. This allowed them to constantly renovate whole computer systems without halting their research - not even for a day.”
Barbara sensed a recurring pattern. Efficiency seemed to always be a priority. Ian whistled. It was one hell of an operation. But for what? What exactly were the scientists examining?
“As Ludie said - the engine room is just below us. We shan’t be too long then. We just need to charge this up.” He held a small cylinder object in the air. At first Barbara thought it was one of the torches they had found in the control room but it was composed of a shiny black metal and was smaller in size. Barbara took it before passing it on, each person examining it in turn.
“That is a battery - it’s currently drained but if we link it up to the TARDIS console we may have enough power to get it into the vortex. We should be able to do that from the engine room - that is once we have deactivated the power-saving mode,” he pointed to the dim, red lights above them, “It’s inhibiting the use of any energy usage deemed unnecessary. I suspect you knew that..” He directed this at Ludie, “You’ve spent quite some time aboard this station, haven’t you?
She nodded.
“Quite so,” The Doctor then stifled a yawn, “Until then, however, we can rest. We want to be at our top ability and it has been a long day.”
Ian and Barbara shared a look. The Doctor too fond of rests.
***
It was growing - it was learning. It had seen the girl, the young one, place her hand across the panel beside the door - the scanner - and seen how the door responded, sliding away into the wall. If it could divert light to eyes as it pleased, making what was not there appear to be, it could easily activate the scanner for what was a scanner other than an camera, receiving light as human eyes did, only to the minutest details.
And it had access to those minute details.
Memories were limited. Humans did not remember fingerprints. They only remember faces, actions - never the small details. But they - the Nightwalkers - had seen the girl up close, for real and they could trace every single minute detail. Every single callous recorded, remembered, stored within the entity’s hive mind. She had been there long enough. She may not remember every moment of her time there, but they did. The Nightwalkers did.
And what was remembered could be replicated. Like faces extracted from memories, a fingerprint could be projected onto the scanner - a fingerprint that was not there. The scanner was not a problem. The door was not a problem.
It slid away into the wall and the fog progressed further into the station, moving closer and closer to the passengers within.
***
Vicki lay awake. She couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that she wasn’t tired - she was certainly weary. As the Doctor said, it had been a long day, but she was too busy, worrying. She thought about the ringing in her ears. She had forgotten about it before and it seemed to fade into obscurity, but there it was again. And then there was the pain. She shot up and winced, cradling her head in her hands. She tried not to cry - everyone else was sleeping - but she couldn’t help it. She let out a whimper.
Something was wrong with her.
Before long the pain was gone. It came and went in waves, like the Nightwalkers, she thought. Her vision cleared and only then did she realise in the darkness, Ludie was sitting up across from her.
“Oh, sorry, did I wake you?”
Ludie nodded, “It’s alright. I’m not very tired anyway.” She moved closer to Vicki and settled down beside her, “Are you okay? You seemed like you were in pain.”
“Just a headache.”
“It sounded like more than a headache.”
“A migraine then.”
The Doctor turned over in his sleep, mumbling something under his breath. Vicki and Ludie looked at one another, smiled and made the non-verbal decision to exit the den into the outside living quarters. Here they found a table and sat across from one another.
“What is your home like?” Vicki tilted her head to one side as she asked this.
“Bit small, but its the people inside it that matters. What are your family like?”
“I don’t have a family,” Vicki diverted her gaze to her shoes, “My mum died when I was young and my dad - well, our ship crashed and he didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry,” Ludie placed a hand on Vicki’s.
“It’s okay, I’m used to it now, I suppose.”
They sat in silence for a while before Vicki spoke out once again, “Tell me about your family.”
“Well, I’m like you. I don’t have a mum or a dad, but I have Harry. And Saffie - oh, Saffie’s lovely. She’s not our child, but we take care of her.”
“I was about to say, you look a bit young to have children,” Vicki smiled across the table, “How old is she?”
“Nine. But she’s very mature. She had to be. She doesn’t have a dad, and her mum… She’s never there so we have to be.” Ludie said. She studied Vicki. There was something about the way she held herself, the undiluted youthfulness in her eyes that reminded her of Saffie. She even had the same blonde hair.
Vicki suddenly doubled over and let out a small cry.
“What is it? Another headache?”
She nodded all the while wincing.
“It’s like something… something is getting into my head.”
“You need to lie down - here, let me help you. Now inhale, slowly, slowly. Hold that for five seconds.”
Vicki complied, taking in air as slowly as she could. She counted in her head: one, two, three, four, five.
“Now exhale.”
One, two, three, four, five.
“And inhale.”
One, two, three, four, five.
And the pain seemed to fade away, slowly.
“Better?”
Vicki nodded. She studied Ludie. Sometimes she seemed youthful but there was a side to her - a professional side. She was only young but she had many responsibilities and she had adapted to that.
“What’s your boyfriend like? Henry, is it?”
“Harry, I-” She stopped. For a second ‘Harry’ seemed wrong. The moment passed and she continued, “He’s lovely. He’s very romantic which can be nice, but it can also be annoying. But he’s sweet and I love him.”
“Do you not like romance?” Vicki frowned.
“I do, just in smaller quantities. He comes from a big family so he’s very close with his siblings and I never had that kind of affection. What about you, then - any boys after you back home?”
“Oh, no, definitely not.” Vicki laughed, blushing a bright red.
“How about on your travels, with the Doctor? Surely there must have someone to catch your eye.”
Vicki laughed, “If only! Unless I take a giant wasp as a lover, there really isn’t much choice.” And then Vicki stopped laughing. Her eyes turned red and she screamed out in pain. Ludie rushed to her side - it was another headache. But it couldn’t just be a normal headache. Ludie reached out and grabbed Vicki’s hand. They made eye contact.
“Is it a sharp stabby pain or a more dull one?”
Vicki was breathing deeply, “Sharp stabby pain… It’s like I’m being attacked from within. The last one seemed to only last a few seconds but this one-” she screamed, “It’s still happening. I can feel it. It’s stronger now.”
Just when Ludie thought she could no longer hold Vicki’s hand, her grip loosened and her arms dropped to her side. She sighed a sigh of relief.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine now. Do you think it’s them?”
“I don’t know… Are your ears particularly sensitive to high-pitched noises?”
Vicki nodded, “You hear it to?”
“A high-pitched ringing in your ears? I think it’s them. The Nightwalkers.”
“What do you mean?”
Ludie shrugged, “Well maybe we’re too far away, so they’re reaching out, trying to do as much damage as they can from long distance.”
Damage. They were doing damage to her. Vicki felt her stomach sink. “What do you mean by damage?”
“I dunno. Maybe they’re attempting to deteriorate brain cells.”
“We need to get away from here,” Vicki stood up, “I’ll wake the Doctor.”
Vicki ducked under the tarpaulin and moved to the Doctor’s side. Before she could wake him up three loud bangs erupted from somewhere in the room. At first she thought it was Ludie but as she turned she found Ludie had followed her into the den. They froze.
Another three bangs.
It wasn’t far away, emitted from some distant corridor this time. It was like it was in the room with them - someone was rapping against the metal walls.
“What is it?” Barbara had sat up and was looking around the room, seemingly dazed.
“We don’t know,” Vicki said, “We were just talking and-”
Another three bangs.
“This isn’t good.” Barbara shook Ian and the Doctor awake.
“Where is it coming from?” the Doctor asked once he had got to his feet.
“The door, I think,”
“It’s them, it’s got to be them this time.”
“What do we do?”
The Doctor pondered as he gained his bearings. They had gotten this far into the ship - why were they knocking now? Surely, doors were not an issue for them anymore. So why not sneak up on them? Unless, they wanted them to be afraid, to act irrationally.
“What do we do, Doctor?”
And then the far door slid open. Fog tumbled through the door and across the room, clouding their sight, moving at a terrifying speed towards them.
“We run!"
“Hm? What is that?”
Her mum and dad had taken her to see them when she was young. She remembered being fascinated by them. She continued,“I was just thinking - the royal guards - they switch positions every few hours - once the ones on duty go off, fresh guards come to replace them - so they don’t get tired. I assume this station is the same - the centre part - the shuttle can be moved out of the outer ring and something else can take its place.”
“So, it can be driven?” Ludie broached.
“Yes, it seems that way.”
“But why is it like that?” Ian asked.
“Barbara said it - these guards they will get tired - it’s inevitable - and thus they are often replaced. And it’s the same here. The floor above is a laboratory, yes?” - Ian nodded (“that’s what the blueprint says”) - “Scientists are sent out on a shuttle to a far out region of space, which then fixes itself within the outer ring to examine whatever they are out here to examine. And then, once their contracts are up, a new set of scientists are sent out on another shuttle, replacing the ones already here. But it’s not just that - it’s also convenience. Whatever they were examining required advanced technology - technology that was constantly evolving. Working on existing equipment would require taking it out of use. This allowed them to constantly renovate whole computer systems without halting their research - not even for a day.”
Barbara sensed a recurring pattern. Efficiency seemed to always be a priority. Ian whistled. It was one hell of an operation. But for what? What exactly were the scientists examining?
“As Ludie said - the engine room is just below us. We shan’t be too long then. We just need to charge this up.” He held a small cylinder object in the air. At first Barbara thought it was one of the torches they had found in the control room but it was composed of a shiny black metal and was smaller in size. Barbara took it before passing it on, each person examining it in turn.
“That is a battery - it’s currently drained but if we link it up to the TARDIS console we may have enough power to get it into the vortex. We should be able to do that from the engine room - that is once we have deactivated the power-saving mode,” he pointed to the dim, red lights above them, “It’s inhibiting the use of any energy usage deemed unnecessary. I suspect you knew that..” He directed this at Ludie, “You’ve spent quite some time aboard this station, haven’t you?
She nodded.
“Quite so,” The Doctor then stifled a yawn, “Until then, however, we can rest. We want to be at our top ability and it has been a long day.”
Ian and Barbara shared a look. The Doctor too fond of rests.
***
It was growing - it was learning. It had seen the girl, the young one, place her hand across the panel beside the door - the scanner - and seen how the door responded, sliding away into the wall. If it could divert light to eyes as it pleased, making what was not there appear to be, it could easily activate the scanner for what was a scanner other than an camera, receiving light as human eyes did, only to the minutest details.
And it had access to those minute details.
Memories were limited. Humans did not remember fingerprints. They only remember faces, actions - never the small details. But they - the Nightwalkers - had seen the girl up close, for real and they could trace every single minute detail. Every single callous recorded, remembered, stored within the entity’s hive mind. She had been there long enough. She may not remember every moment of her time there, but they did. The Nightwalkers did.
And what was remembered could be replicated. Like faces extracted from memories, a fingerprint could be projected onto the scanner - a fingerprint that was not there. The scanner was not a problem. The door was not a problem.
It slid away into the wall and the fog progressed further into the station, moving closer and closer to the passengers within.
***
Vicki lay awake. She couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that she wasn’t tired - she was certainly weary. As the Doctor said, it had been a long day, but she was too busy, worrying. She thought about the ringing in her ears. She had forgotten about it before and it seemed to fade into obscurity, but there it was again. And then there was the pain. She shot up and winced, cradling her head in her hands. She tried not to cry - everyone else was sleeping - but she couldn’t help it. She let out a whimper.
Something was wrong with her.
Before long the pain was gone. It came and went in waves, like the Nightwalkers, she thought. Her vision cleared and only then did she realise in the darkness, Ludie was sitting up across from her.
“Oh, sorry, did I wake you?”
Ludie nodded, “It’s alright. I’m not very tired anyway.” She moved closer to Vicki and settled down beside her, “Are you okay? You seemed like you were in pain.”
“Just a headache.”
“It sounded like more than a headache.”
“A migraine then.”
The Doctor turned over in his sleep, mumbling something under his breath. Vicki and Ludie looked at one another, smiled and made the non-verbal decision to exit the den into the outside living quarters. Here they found a table and sat across from one another.
“What is your home like?” Vicki tilted her head to one side as she asked this.
“Bit small, but its the people inside it that matters. What are your family like?”
“I don’t have a family,” Vicki diverted her gaze to her shoes, “My mum died when I was young and my dad - well, our ship crashed and he didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry,” Ludie placed a hand on Vicki’s.
“It’s okay, I’m used to it now, I suppose.”
They sat in silence for a while before Vicki spoke out once again, “Tell me about your family.”
“Well, I’m like you. I don’t have a mum or a dad, but I have Harry. And Saffie - oh, Saffie’s lovely. She’s not our child, but we take care of her.”
“I was about to say, you look a bit young to have children,” Vicki smiled across the table, “How old is she?”
“Nine. But she’s very mature. She had to be. She doesn’t have a dad, and her mum… She’s never there so we have to be.” Ludie said. She studied Vicki. There was something about the way she held herself, the undiluted youthfulness in her eyes that reminded her of Saffie. She even had the same blonde hair.
Vicki suddenly doubled over and let out a small cry.
“What is it? Another headache?”
She nodded all the while wincing.
“It’s like something… something is getting into my head.”
“You need to lie down - here, let me help you. Now inhale, slowly, slowly. Hold that for five seconds.”
Vicki complied, taking in air as slowly as she could. She counted in her head: one, two, three, four, five.
“Now exhale.”
One, two, three, four, five.
“And inhale.”
One, two, three, four, five.
And the pain seemed to fade away, slowly.
“Better?”
Vicki nodded. She studied Ludie. Sometimes she seemed youthful but there was a side to her - a professional side. She was only young but she had many responsibilities and she had adapted to that.
“What’s your boyfriend like? Henry, is it?”
“Harry, I-” She stopped. For a second ‘Harry’ seemed wrong. The moment passed and she continued, “He’s lovely. He’s very romantic which can be nice, but it can also be annoying. But he’s sweet and I love him.”
“Do you not like romance?” Vicki frowned.
“I do, just in smaller quantities. He comes from a big family so he’s very close with his siblings and I never had that kind of affection. What about you, then - any boys after you back home?”
“Oh, no, definitely not.” Vicki laughed, blushing a bright red.
“How about on your travels, with the Doctor? Surely there must have someone to catch your eye.”
Vicki laughed, “If only! Unless I take a giant wasp as a lover, there really isn’t much choice.” And then Vicki stopped laughing. Her eyes turned red and she screamed out in pain. Ludie rushed to her side - it was another headache. But it couldn’t just be a normal headache. Ludie reached out and grabbed Vicki’s hand. They made eye contact.
“Is it a sharp stabby pain or a more dull one?”
Vicki was breathing deeply, “Sharp stabby pain… It’s like I’m being attacked from within. The last one seemed to only last a few seconds but this one-” she screamed, “It’s still happening. I can feel it. It’s stronger now.”
Just when Ludie thought she could no longer hold Vicki’s hand, her grip loosened and her arms dropped to her side. She sighed a sigh of relief.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine now. Do you think it’s them?”
“I don’t know… Are your ears particularly sensitive to high-pitched noises?”
Vicki nodded, “You hear it to?”
“A high-pitched ringing in your ears? I think it’s them. The Nightwalkers.”
“What do you mean?”
Ludie shrugged, “Well maybe we’re too far away, so they’re reaching out, trying to do as much damage as they can from long distance.”
Damage. They were doing damage to her. Vicki felt her stomach sink. “What do you mean by damage?”
“I dunno. Maybe they’re attempting to deteriorate brain cells.”
“We need to get away from here,” Vicki stood up, “I’ll wake the Doctor.”
Vicki ducked under the tarpaulin and moved to the Doctor’s side. Before she could wake him up three loud bangs erupted from somewhere in the room. At first she thought it was Ludie but as she turned she found Ludie had followed her into the den. They froze.
Another three bangs.
It wasn’t far away, emitted from some distant corridor this time. It was like it was in the room with them - someone was rapping against the metal walls.
“What is it?” Barbara had sat up and was looking around the room, seemingly dazed.
“We don’t know,” Vicki said, “We were just talking and-”
Another three bangs.
“This isn’t good.” Barbara shook Ian and the Doctor awake.
“Where is it coming from?” the Doctor asked once he had got to his feet.
“The door, I think,”
“It’s them, it’s got to be them this time.”
“What do we do?”
The Doctor pondered as he gained his bearings. They had gotten this far into the ship - why were they knocking now? Surely, doors were not an issue for them anymore. So why not sneak up on them? Unless, they wanted them to be afraid, to act irrationally.
“What do we do, Doctor?”
And then the far door slid open. Fog tumbled through the door and across the room, clouding their sight, moving at a terrifying speed towards them.
“We run!"
Part four
"Once clear of the living quarters and in the eastern sector, Ian turned to the Doctor, "What do we do now?"
“They’ll be coming for us. We have to advance with our plan - we have to get away from here.”
They were pacing now down the corridor. Ian began to make out the faint light of the TARDIS in the distance.
“Doctor, what about Ludie?” Barbara moved to the Doctor’s side as Ian fell behind.
“She can come with us.”
“But does she want to?”
“It’s either that or get consumed by these Nightwalkers, my dear, now please hurry up - we don’t have much time.”
They made it to the TARDIS and the Doctor retrieved a black cylinder from his pocket: the battery.
“We need to charge this up from the engine room.”
“And then what?” Ludie asked.
“And then we take off.”
The Doctor set off in the opposite direction from which they came. Ludie and Barbara shared a look before hurrying to follow him.
“It’s too dangerous the other way - we’ve got to get to a spoke corridor in this direction and get to the engine room through there.” The Doctor explained.
“Won’t they follow us?” Ian asked.
“Exactly, Chatterton! We’ve got to stay ahead. No dilly-dallying!”
They came to the south-western sector and, following through a door, they began to work their way into the centre of the ship again along the spoke corridor.
Once they had reached the end of the corridor the Doctor turned his attention to the walls, “There should be a control along one of these walls, ah, here.” The Doctor pressed a few buttons to the left of the door and, like an elevator, the centre room of the ship began to move, the door to the living quarters ascending out of view. After a few seconds a door slid upwards into place. This was to lead to the engine room. “Go on, my dear,” the Doctor said to Ludie, “Activate the scanner.”
She seemed to hesitate.
“Girl, please hurry up. We don’t have all day.”
“Doctor, wait!” Vicki said as loudly as she could, “What about Ludie?”
“I’ve been over this with Barbara. She can come with us.?”
“But what if she doesn’t want to come with us?”
“What other choice does she have?”
“We can get her home.”
“We can get her home in the TARDIS, now stand back, girl.
Barbara moved forward, “Doctor, Vicki’s right. We can’t just whisk her away with no choice. She has a life to go back to - not all of us are so lucky to have no one waiting for them.”
She was right - not everyone was so lucky to have no one to go back to. He was free of his worries. He wasn’t once. He had Susan - but now she was gone. She had moved on. He was free now. And it was terrible. “And what do you mean by that, hm?” The Doctor was angry now - not just with impatience, with genuine seething anger. Barbara had struck a cord.
Barbara was angry now too,“You don’t have to worry about anyone other than yourself. You’re not like the rest of us.”
“I don’t have to worry about anyone other than myself? Nonsense! I have been doing nothing but worry about you this entire time. I could have just left you and Ian here, but I sacrificed our chances of making it out to stay behind - to save you.”
“Doctor-”
“We are going to reactivate the power and we are going to get in the TARDIS and leave.”
“Doctor-”
“If you have a problem with that, it doesn’t matter much to me. I’m done putting my life on the line to save you.”
“Doctor!” Vicki cried out. It was her head. She doubled over and collapsed. Ludie knelt down and nestled her head. Her eyes were closed but she was awake, just in pain. When her eyes opened she was looking up at the Doctor.
“Doctor,” she spoke softly.
“What is it, my child? Are you okay?”
“Her head - I think it’s them,” Ludie cried, “They’re working their way into her head.”
“Where is the pain coming from? Can you pinpoint the exact location?”
Vicki concentrated. It was a very precise pain, but the ever increasing ferocity made the task a struggle. Still, she was strong. “Umm, sort of behind my eyes.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Around the temporal lobe?”
“Yes, yes, oh god.”
“What is it? What’s going on?” Barbara asked.
“I don’t know… Perhaps,” he swallowed deeply before continuing, “perhaps it’s the Nightwalkers. They’re feeding off our memories but she’s the youngest, her brain is the most undeveloped - she is the most susceptible. The temporal lobe is where memory is retained, you see.”
Barbara’s hand went to her head. Now that she had mentioned it, she could feel a very slight pain in her head, behind her eyes. But why was it so much worse on Vicki?
“Of course, and you’ve had more exposure - when it grabbed you...” the Doctor’s previous anger had completely disappeared, “Vicki, my child, it’s going to be fine.”
“Doctor,” she repeated.
“Yes, child?”
“Please let Ludie speak. I know what you’re trying to do - you’re not being selfish. You’re trying to save us, putting our needs first, but please - she needs us. Just listen to her.”
She was right - the Doctor knew it. Throughout their time in the TARDIS there had been numerous times he had put his needs first, his curiosities - he thought he had been doing the right thing, trying to get them away from that whatever the cost. But he got it wrong. Their needs extend wherever there is life. Compassion was a dangerous feeling to have
“Okay, okay, my dear, I’m listening. Ludie, tell me, what do you want?”
For the first time Ludie had been consulted on the matter. And for the first time she really thought about what she wanted. Before she had just put it to the back of her mind - they would sort something out, she had said. “I want to go home.”
“We can take you home in the TARDIS. It may take some time though. It may be weeks, months before you go home.”
Ludie nodded. She understood. And she thought about her days waiting to see him again. Had it only been thirty-three days? It couldn’t be. It almost felt like years… She could not wait any longer.
“If we can control this shuttle,” Ludie said, “Could we get it out of this dimension? Could we get it home?”
The Doctor rubbed his chin, “Maybe. There is no way of knowing. The Nightwalkers may still be stabilising the black hole and well-”
“But there is a chance, yes?”
The Doctor nodded, “Yes, there is a chance. We can try if you like.”
Ludie nodded.
“New plan,” the Doctor announced, “Barbara, Ian - you have the blueprint - yes?” - they nodded - “You go to the engine room and reactivate the power - we will need it to direct the ship. We may just have enough power to direct the ship away from here. Once done there should be a communication unit across the computers. Activate that and we can communicate. I’ll give you further instructions then.” He turned to Vicki and Ludie, “You two, come with me. There is only one logical place of keeping a control room aboard the shuttle.”
“Where’s that?”
“The laboratory.”
***
Ludie and Vicki followed the Doctor into a large auditorium resembling a lecture hall, however slightly more clinical. Seating ascended upwards and outwards from a large circular stage in the centre of the room. At centre stage a chamber sealed off from the rest of the room by a thick layer of protective glass sat, lined by various machines which to Vicki resembled large phaser guns, all pointing directly into the middle.
This was the main room in the laboratory, located dead in the centre. However, Vicki thought, it didn’t look much like a laboratory. She had been expecting wooden work benches and test tubes.
They struggled down the stairs of the colossal laboratory into the centre. It was only then they spoke.
“It’s fantastic,” Vicki exclaimed.
“Yes, very high tech equipment. That must be a particle accelerator - a very compact one at that - and this, ah, some sort of micro-level camera recording device.”
“What are all these seats?”
“For observing of course. I doubt there are any other rooms like this on board - where else would hundreds of scientists go?”
“They all gathered here? What for? What were they observing?”
“From the equipment, I’d say something to do with huon particles.”
This took Ludie by surprise, “You mean…?”
“Yes, my dear, a station full of scientists doesn’t just accidentally get too close to a black hole. They were intentionally. These particles shouldn’t be in your universe, in your time - their ancient and suppose some stray ones passed through from this dimension to yours. It would attract a sizeable audience of scientists.”
“So, this is what they were doing? Collecting samples?”
The Doctor nodded, “It is human nature, my dear.”
“Curiosity?”
“The need to process everything they find to sell.”
“Of course,” Vicki marvelled, “They can be used for teleportation.”
The Doctor nodded. Up until then Ludie had been silent. Finally she spoke out, “Is the control panel in here?”
“Presumably. Who else is better suited to directing this shuttle than the scientists themselves?”
Yet they needed a nurse.
***
Ian and Barbara had followed the blueprint around a complex series of corridors. These, Ludie had said, she had traversed on her first day awake on board the ship. The corridors were lined with various pipes and cables.After a while, Ian decided the best thing to was to follow the cables to their source rather than follow a map.
Barbara stopped in her tracks, “Ian, did you hear that?”
It was barely a whisper but she thought she had heard her name. Just for a second. Was it them? Had the Nightwalkers followed them?
“What was it?”
Barbara waited, but no other noise came to her ears apart from her own breathing.
“We shouldn’t be too far now.”
They continued to follow the cables until it began to lead outwards again. Barbara expressed her doubts but Ian knew to press on. This paid off and the corridors began to wind inwards again, towards a centre. Eventually they came to a door (without a scanner) and it slid open.
“This is an engine room alright.”
The floor beneath their feet became a mesh grating suspended over hundreds of feet of machinery. Barbara tried not to look down, but it was all so fascinating. The grating led them around the edge of the room. It went on to descend downwards towards the frighteningly-big machinery beneath them, but they needn’t to advance any further. They came across a wall that was lined with lined with wires and various switches. “This must be it.”
The Doctor had said it wouldn’t be too difficult to find the right wire. He was wrong. The wall stretched across the width of the room and what seemed like million of wires were tangled across the surface of the wall. It would be impossible. However, on closer inspection, Ian noticed the wires were labeled.
“Help me, Barbara. Check the labels.”
“What are we looking for?”
“Anything to do with an emergency power-saving mode.”
They started at opposite ends of the wall, checking each wire’s label before moving onto the next one.
“Anything?” Ian said after a few good minutes of searching.
“No… not… yet… Ah! Emergency power reservation system,” Barbara read, “This must be it!”
Ian moved to her side, “Yes, that’s the one! Well done!” They embraced before turning their attention back to the wire.
“We need something sharp.”
They split up in search of said sharp object. Barbara, on finding a cleaner’s cupboard, returned with a penknife and set about the task of cutting the wire.
“Be careful.” Ian warned.
The knife soon cut straight through the wire but alas nothing happened.
“There must be backup wires in a parallel circuit, in case this one fails.”
“How about these?” She held up three wires with the same label on them: Emergency power reservation system.
Ian nodded. They seemed to be the right ones. Barbara cut each of them in turn.
As soon as the knife made a clean cut through the last of the wires, Ian and Barbara were blinded in a white light. Above them, the lights had turned back on. They had done it!
***
Ludie, Vicki and the Doctor looked up at the ceiling. The power had been restored.
“Where is the nearest computer system? We need to contact them.”
“Down there.” Vicki pointed to the glass chamber at the centre of the room. The outside was lined with screens and accompanying chairs. After descending the remaining steps, they made their way around the glass chamber and situated themselves at the biggest screen - this seemed to be the master computer.
“Anything yet?”
“No,” the Doctor frowned.
Vicki wondered how much longer this would take. The pain in her head was growing again...
***
They left the energy room pretty swiftly. They continued through corridors, using their instincts to find a corridor that led inwards. Ian became irritated with the fact the corridors seemed to take the least direct route as possible, taking them in almost a zig-zag to the centre. In this monotony of corridors, Ian’s mind drifted to Shoreditch. It had seemed so real. It was like they had reached the finishing line after all this time. Only it wasn’t the finishing line; in reality made no progress at all. They were in exactly the same predicament as before; nothing had changed. Their chance of getting home was still very unlikely, yet it felt closer. To smell the London air, to see London, to hear London - it only made him want it more.
“Do you want to go back? Home, I mean.”
Barbara was surprised to find she needed to think about it. “I think so. It’s what we’ve always wanted, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t. There’s so much out there and so much I’ve seen, and then to go back to everyday life…”
“Perhaps this is where we’re meant to be.”
“Perhaps.” She smiled coyly.
The conversation halted on that sentiment. Barbara took her time to formulate her words before she spurred it into a new direction. “You remember when the Doctor said I was fighting the Nightwalkers in my sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I had a dream - my 10th birthday and I received a letter from my dad. Only it wasn’t really for him. It was a horrible memory.”
Ian reflected he had a similar experience - he had passed out after Shoreditch and he dreamt about his mum, back in the war. He told this to Barbara.
“There has to be something to their selection process. They don’t choose random dreams. They make us relive these bad memories, to make us feel exactly what we felt in that moment, to bring those feelings flooding back. To make us act irrationally. What they don’t understand is that it isn’t as clear-cut as that. For a while I felt angry, yes, but there was so many more emotions attached to that memory.”
“Like?” Ian pressed.
“Love. Compassion. Pain. I didn’t realise it at the time but now I know what my mother did was an act of love, of wanting me to be happy.”
“The benefit of hindsight.” Ian stated.
“Yes, the benefit of hindsight, but it’s more than that,” Barbara mused, “There are no bad memories or good memories. It’s much more complicated than that. I don’t think any point in my life has made me feel so strongly one emotion and nothing else to contradict it.”
Barbara paused on this thought. It seemed to her the good of the universe was indefinitely intertwined with the bad. There would always be positives and drawbacks to certain actions. There would always be unenjoyable moments within the enjoyable ones. She realised this was very much how she felt about travelling with the Doctor. There was the fantastic spirit of adventure, yes, but there was also moments of danger. Moments when she feared for her life, for Ian’s, for Vicki’s, even for that stubborn old man who got them into this mess in the first place. But what was the alternative? Leaving every chance of returning to this life to return to Earth - but for what?
“I suppose,” she continued, “We have to ask ourselves whether returning to Earth, would it be worth it? Going home, I mean. Would it be better than this?”
“Safer, definitely. Better, maybe.”
“They wanted me to feel angry. To act irrationally.”
“Who?”
“The Nightwalkers, that’s why they brought me into that memory, to watch it unfold all over again. But they got it wrong. I am not angry. I am not irrational. I feel loved. Loved by someone I haven’t seen in a very long time. Someone who I owe to not just them, but myself too, to see again.”
Ian remembered his mother clutching him closer to her, his heart thudding fast in his chest as he feared for his life. He realised, once again, he shared very much the same sentiments as Barbara.
“We have to ask ourselves whether it would be worth it to leave this life behind, yes, but we also have to ask ourselves whether we want to leave the life we had before behind for good. Whether we have said everything that needs to be said, to everyone that we hold dear.”
Was he okay with leaving that life behind? Could he say goodbye to it all for the sake of adventure? No. He wasn’t ready to make that decision. He turned to Barbara and in her eyes he noted she clearly felt very much the same way.
“Ian, can you hear them?”
Ian stopped, listened intently and answered: “No,” he started up again, “let’s take a left here.”
Barbara bit her lip. She could definitely hear them - they had followed them. Whispers echoed from a multitude of directions, much louder than they had been before. This worried her. They were getting more powerful. But it wasn’t just that. Only she could hear them. She had remembered what Ludie said about how they clung on while you slept, working their way into your head. Perhaps that is why she was more affected by them than Ian - they had already found their way into her head and now they were free to burrow further and further until she could no longer tell reality from fantasy. They wanted to control her in the most noncommittal way possible, working not against but with her, showing her things to influence her actions but not to directly control them. But what was the endpoint of that?
“We are simply vehicles,” Barbara uttered, “And they are trying to direct us.” She turned to Ian before continuing, “If you were an alien entity trapped in a black hole, what would you want most?”
Ian shrugged, “To escape. Just like us.”
Barbara furrowed her brow at this. Just like us. And then it dawned on her. “Ian, remember what I said back in the maintenance bay? The Nightwalkers are showing us what we want the most to make us act irrational, yes?” Ian nodded. “What do you think Ludie sees?”
“Home, I suppose. Her boyfriend.”
Barbara nodded, “Exactly. As if to fuel her desire to get home. We are the vehicles, Ian. That’s what they want. They’ve had a taste of what it's like to feed of our memories - and now they’re hungry for more. By escaping, Ludie will be leading a ship full of Nightwalkers to a planet full of humans, full of human memories. What then?”
Ian turned to her, an expression of worry deeply set into his face, working its way into his eyebrows now furrowed in the light of realisation, “We’ve got to warn the Doctor.” Barbara nodded in agreement and the two broke into a run.
Before long the weight of her legs become apparent to Barbara and the icy cold of the ship around her, barely enough for human survival, worked its way into her lungs. She could feel the cold grabbing at her legs, thickening until a dense fog clawed at her legs, tendrils of the substances folding over itself constantly, wrapping itself around her legs.
“Ian!” Barbara cried.
“I can see it too!”
That was enough for Barbara. She had to keep pushing. She wasn’t alone. Here was Ian, by her side, fighting the same fight.
As the fog fell thicker and thicker, the corridor lights began to falter, flickering on and off as if they were unsure whether they were functioning or not. Deciding on the latter, the room was plunged into darkness. Barbara was no longer sure whether this was actually happening or the work of the Nightwalker’s illusions. She decided it didn’t matter. She thrust her hand out into the darkness to her left and felt Ian’s hand reach back.
Ian, just able to make out the sharp bend of the wall - which would be impossible to do if it was really dark, he thought, and must be something to do with reality bleeding through into his subconscious - knew to take a sharp right. Their feet pounded at the metal grating beneath them as they rounded the corner.
“Ian, look!” They slowed to a stop and stared ahead in awe.
A hue of an unworldly purple shone throughout the darkness, punctuating the corridor with a brilliant yet frightening light. Against the light they could see figures moving in the darkness. There must have been tens of hundreds of them, moving all at once in various directions. Ian became aware of voices in the darkness - no one in particular, rather voices of men, women, children; babies crying; cries of woe, begging for help.
Barbara looked at Ian and Ian looked at Barbara, their hands gripped together tighter than before and they set off down the corridor. Barbara could feel her heart pounding in her ears, unrelenting - as could Ian. As they approached the figures features that weren’t previously there began to protrude, a nose broke the surface of the blank face of mist; between one blink and the next, what was previously a featureless torso became clothes, hanging from the pale figure’s body.
“It is alright, my dear.”
Ian faltered - it wasn’t just that he heard it, he felt it. He could feel the warm breath breathing into his ear.
“It is alright. It is alright. It is alright.”
Ian remembered those words as they had been said, buried deep underground, in his mother’s lap. He remembered how she had stroked the back of his neck while saying those words. “It is alright, my dear.” He wanted to believe her then, he wanted to believe her now, but she was not real. She was not here. That warm air breathed into his ear was actually the clammy embrace of fog, the hand on the back of his neck was nothing more than a tendril of mist, and his mother stood before him was not his mother. It was not his mother. It was not his mother.
He moved forward, eager to break the mist, to break the illusion, and yet Barbara, attached to him by clasped hand, stood still. He saw in her eyes what she saw was more than just an image of a loved one, something much more terrifying.
Barbara did not hear any words, not a name whispered into her ear, not even the remnants of a memory spoonfed to her. Instead she saw something much worse: the works of a young girl’s imagination, one who had lost far more than a young girl should lose.
She had heard about the war on the playground, at school, from fragments of conversation overheard in public. She had heard about the horror, about the bombs, about the planes, about the tanks. She had heard about how many men died, blown to pieces, shot through the head, murdered in cold blood. And stood before her was the product of just that: a man, a soldier, murdered many times over, shot, grazed, stabbed, burned, gouged, dying. His lips moved ever so slightly, nothing more than a murmur uttered through his cracked lips.
With the one eye he had left, he blinked slowly and fixed his gaze on Barbara. It was only then she noticed he was crying. His hands moved to his head and removed his cap to reveal thick, dark hair, matted with blood. It was as if he was trying to make himself known to her, trying to make her realise who he was, but she had known it the first second she had laid her eyes on him.
For a split second, she had seen a very different image - a young man, beaming, very much happy, loving towards his daughter, his wife, and loved in return - but the burnt and bloodied soldier soon returned.
“Bar-bie.”
And then he was accelerating towards her, his destroyed face approaching, closer with every second. No, she was approaching him.
Ian was pulling her in his direction. She resisted, but he had gathered an undying momentum. Together they tumbled through the figure, through Ian’s mother, through Barbara’s father and out the other side, feeling nothing more but the cold embrace of the mist.
Featureless figures flitted around them, left, right, backwards, forwards, they came from all directions and moved in all directions. Barbara could hear them screaming, crying, but she didn’t recognise any of them. For a moment, the idea that they were the original passengers of the ship came to her mind, but she soon forgot about it and focused on the task of pushing through the fog. It grew denser and her limbs heavier. It was like the Nightwalkers were putting up a fight, and for a second it seemed like they were winning, but the moment passed and they continued to push through the now thick and viscous air around them. The voices faded and in their place a cry erupted all around them, far beyond human capability, screeching, wailing, cursing all at once.
When Barbara opened her eyes again, the fog was a distinct brown, a chocolate-coloured pail - and the ground squelchy and malleable beneath her shoes. It was like mud. As they progressed it began to feel deeper and deeper until it seemed to pile to her knees, then in thinned out. They were no longer in a spaceship corridor, but on earth, on a battlefield, stepping over the bodies of the wasted young, working their way to the surface of the mud like foreign bodies to the surface of the skin.
Barbara made the mistake of looking down at one of the bodies and the lifeless eyes of her father stared back at her. He was dead, it seemed, but his mouth was open and seemed to be emitting this deafening, inhuman scream. She reminded herself it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, but the imagery had been singed into her mind and when she closed her eyes it was still there.
It could have only been seconds, but it felt like years, when all measure of time other than how many breaths they had left was impotent, time passed slowly. Very, very slowly. But pass it did, and the moment - the hell - was over. Barbara could hear her pumps clicking against the metal ground, she could feel the fog thinning until they came to a door.
Relieved, gasping for air, they activated the seal and, only when the door was securely locked behind them, they collapsed onto the ground, still clutching each other’s hand tightly as if they were to do so for the rest of their lives.
“Are you okay? You’re not hurt?” Ian said between heavy breaths.
“No, I’m fine. Just a little shook up, that’s all.”
They lay there for a while, catching their breath and after a few minutes, they clambered to their feet. They seemed to be in the entrance to a large chamber. They followed the entrance through a couple of metres and the ceiling soon opened wide upwards and outwards. They had made it to the cryo-chamber.
Tens upon hundreds of cryo-pods were lined up in front of her. Barbara counted four rows of the machines, each with roughly ten or fifteen.
“Incredible,” Ian exclaimed.
“Yes,” Barbara agreed, “There must have been hundreds of people on board.”
“There’s certainly the capacity,” Ian remarked. They inspected the closest cryo-pod. “Lifeform ejected 1056 days ago.” Ian whistled, “Just under three years.”
They moved onto the next machine and inspected its display, “Hang on,” Barbara moved onto the next one, and the next one, “Ian, look! These all say they were opened 31,455 days ago.”
“No,” Ian said in disbelief.
“That’s what they say.”
“How long is that? That must be… eighty-five, ninety years.”
“It can’t have been that long, can it?”
“Quite possibly, this is high-tech stuff.”
Barbara paused, “If these cryo-pods were evacuated ninety years ago and Ludie only thirty-three days ago, she’s not going to have very much to go back to.”
“No,” Ian frowned, “I expect everyone she once knew is long dead by now,” he grimaced for a minute as if to be respectful.
Barbara continued to dart from one machine to the next, reading the displays before moving onto the next one, “Ian?”
“Yes, Barbara?”
“It’s just, I can’t seem to find a pod that was opened thirty-three days ago.”
“Huh, that’s strange. Let me see… No, me neither.”
“Unless,” Barbara returned to the first cryo-pod they had checked. It was in a darkened part of the room, with a concealing shadow hanging over it. It is easy to imagine how it would be forgotten and looked over, “Unless this is Ludie’s machine.”
“No, it can’t be. She said she had been here thirty-three days, not three years.”
Barbara looked at Ian and Ian looked at Barbara. He could see she was thinking very much the same thing.
But then, of course, the Nightwalkers - if they broke you down enough - could very easily make it seem that way.
***
The computer unit crackled to life a voice filtered through the static. It was Ian.
“Doctor, Vicki: can you hear me?”
“Chatterton, my boy, I can hear you! Can you hear me?” He had taken on a new tone of urgency.
“Loud and clear! How is it up there?”
“We are fine. And you? Are you safe?”
“We are now, although we had a bit of a run-in with them just a few minutes ago. It’s like they were trying to stop us from getting to cryo-chamber and now I know why. Doctor, look, there is something you should know, something Ludie should know.
Ludie spoke up,“Yes, what is it?”
“Ludie, it’s me, Barbara.”
“What do you need to tell me?”
“You said you were here thirty-three days?”
“Yes, why?”
“Well, it’s just we think you’ve been here much longer than that. Much closer to three years.”
“Three years?” the Doctor exclaimed, “What are you talking about, my dear?”
“We’re in the cryo-chamber, and well Ludie’s machine said it was opened 1056 days ago.”
“I see, most worrying indeed,” the Doctor mused. Ludie however was silent. Three years. Had it really been that long? No, it couldn’t have. She remembered the day she had awoken exactly. That couldn’t have been three years ago. And she remembered every day since. Except… she didn’t. Not really. They all seemed to merge into one long narrative - but that was easily accounted for by the lack of long periods of sleep. It was very possible she had been here longer than thirty-three days - forty, fifty maybe, but three years… It couldn’t be right.
“But that’s not all,” Ian spoke again, “The other cryo-pods in the room date back much further. They were last opened 87 years ago. I’m sorry, Ludie, but this ship took off over 87 years ago. I suspect there isn’t much left of your planet, at least, not how you remembered it.”
Ludie could feel herself losing balance, she stumbled but the Doctor rushed forward to her aid. He guided her to a seat. 87 years. Harry would be long dead. Saffie would be dead. Everyone she ever knew would be dead. For the first time in a while, for the first time in almost three years, for the first time since that day she had awoken to an empty ship, Ludie cried. She had tried to put on a show of bravery, for Harry. That is what he would have wanted. But it didn’t matter anymore. He was dead. After all this time he was dead. She felt foolish.
“Ludie, I’m sorry,” Barbara’s voice came through the speaker, “They were trying to hide the fact - they tried to get us away from the cryo-chamber. They didn’t want us to know. They didn’t want you to lose hope.”
Lose hope? Hope of what? Seeing her family again? Returning to her normal life? Nothing would ever be the same.
“Barbara, Chatterton-”
Vicki grabbed the Doctor’s arm with urgency. “Doctor, I can feel them again! They’re in my head!”
It was the same pain as before, something very malevolent - not the dull, aching pain of a normal headache, but something that felt penetrative, burrowing deep into her brain with a stringently-focused effect.
“They’re eating your memories.”
“Doctor,” - the tears were clearly flowing now - “please make it stop,”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, I cannot, my dear. But you can,” he turned to Ludie, “Come with us. The sooner we get away the better. Maybe there’s still a chance we can do so before it’s too late.”
“What do you mean too late?” Barbara’s voice rang. Vicki was still crying out.
“If its attacks are centred on the temporal lobe it’s only a matter of time before it makes some permanent damage and Vicki will lose her memory.”
***
Barbara felt helpless. There was nothing she could do to help Vicki. She remembered what she had said to Ian. They were the vehicles - and the Nightwalkers wanted to control them, but it went much deeper than bringing up old emotions. “Maybe,” Barbara said, “they’ve realised we have outsmarted them. We overlooked their illusions, so they’re trying to wear away our perception of reality.”
“Wearing away the old memories to make it easier to implant new ones…” Ian articulated, “Who controls the past controls the present: who controls the present controls the future.”
“George Orwell?
Ian nodded.
Barbara continued, “They are controlling our pasts to influence the way we act. They are creating new memories in the place of old ones - changing the way we act. Controlling us indirectly through controlling who we are. Doctor? That’s it, isn’t it?”
No reply came. Only Vicki’s blood-curdling scream and then-
Static.
***
Darkness surrounded her, her head pounded, her vision blurred. She placed a hand in front of her face only to see millions of hands at once, moving unilaterally. Vicki shut her eyes and focused.
She opened her eyes once again. This time she could see. She was in a bed, a darkened room. As her eyes adjusted to the light she began to make out features - a sleek metal wall lined one side of the bed - and then shapes - another bed was situated not far from her, dwarfing the already small room. On the edge of the bed sat a man, positioned with his back to her. He seemed to be tying his shoelaces as he as bent over with his arms stretching down to his legs.
Vicki repositioned herself on the bed so we was sitting upright. In doing so the bedsheets rustled and the man’s attention was caught. Vicki couldn’t quite make out a face in the dim light but she could see his torso move around until he was facing her. He stared at her for a few seconds before getting to his feet and started across the room towards her.
Vicki’s heart jolted in her chest. She tried to get up but her limbs felt heavy. She dared not tear her attention from the man. It was only as he was mere feet away she noticed a smile plastered on his face. And with that the panic left her.She didn’t feel scared anymore. Instead a warm feeling erupted from inside her chest.
“You alright, darling?” He sat on her bed by her legs. His hand moved to her face, Vicki flinched, but it was only to move strands of her blonde hair from her eyes, “Hey, hey, what is it? Are you okay?”
She opened her mouth but only a guttural choke came to her lips.
“Listen, they want me in the hull, I’ve got to go. Get some sleep.” He left her side and moved to the door, “Are you okay?”
Vicki nodded and licking the parched lips, she formulated a sentence, “I’m okay, dad. I was just dreaming. I think.”
He smiled encouragingly, “Alright, darling. See you later.”
And then he left.
And then she remembered. That was it. That was the final time she saw her dad.
No, she had to see him again. She got to feet and called out, “Dad!”
It seemed to echo around her endlessly, the tail end of her words swallowed by a high-pitched tone, rising in volume until she could hear nothing else but this tone. The tone seemed to transform into a piercing scream. Her vision blacked out and as she lost consciousness the last thought that ran through her mind was the fact the scream she was hearing was her own.
***
“She’s still breathing,” the Doctor announced.
“Will she be okay?”
“I don’t know. The sooner we get away from here the better. How do you feel?”
“Fine. I’ve just learned everyone I have ever known is dead, but surprisingly… I’m fine.”
“You could still come with us. There is always room in the TARDIS.”
Ludie shook her head, “I’ve had enough waiting. It felt like thirty-three days but a little part of me knew it was longer. I couldn’t remember much of it - I suppose that was them, wearing me down. I can remember it now though - I remember each day. How slow time passed. Every second I thought of him. For three years.” Then she stood up. Wiping her hands on her trousers, she turned to the Doctor, invigorated with a new energy. “We don’t have much longer left. I suppose we better make a start, Where’s this control panel then?”
The Doctor was silent. He just looked at the girl curiously.
“C’mon, Doctor. Take me there.”
“We’re here. This is it - the control panel.” He gestured to the bank of computers surrounding the glass chamber. It was a curious set up but one that saved time nonetheless.
“Right, then, let’s do it then. Let’s take me home.”
The Doctor looked at Vicki, lying across the floor. He had placed his coat under her head for support.
“Doctor?”
Finally, he looked at Ludie and shook his head. “You know we can’t do that. The Nightwalkers have gotten into the shuttle. If we leave now we’ll be carrying Nightwalkers back to our own universe. That’ll only cause more trouble. It’s best if this ship stays put, to contain it.” To his surprise she wasn’t particularly dismayed. It was like he just telling her something she was already aware of. Perhaps, she was, deep inside. Maybe they had made her forget but things never really go away. Not really.“Maybe if things were different and we arrived a day earlier, we could have done it, but no.”
“Who controls the past controls the present: who controls the present controls the future.” Ludie repeated.
The Doctor nodded, “This is what they want - you said you thought about him every second of everyday for three years. I suspect that was them - flooding your head with memories of him.”
“I saw him in my dreams as well. It was always the same dream,” she smiled forlornly, “Baggy suit, swept back hair. Roses…” Or maybe it was lilies. She had thought of that memory so often but now she came to think of it, she couldn’t even remember which type of flowers the bouquet was.
***
“It’s cut off,” Ian jammed the computer keys angrily, “What do we do?”
“We’ve got to use our initiative.”
“Right,” Ian nodded, “We’ve got to power up the TARDIS. So… We need a power source...”
Barbara nodded, “The engine room. C’mon!”
They moved to the door. Ian’s hand hovered over the panel, “Ready?”
“Ready.” Barbara nodded.
Beyond the door they would be waiting, the Nightwalkers. But they had to take the risk, to get back to the TARDIS, to get Vicki away from here.
Ian placed his hand on the scanner and the door slip open.
Barbara expected screams. She expected figures. She expected chaos. But the corridor was quiet.
“What happened, where are they?”
“Gone. We’re no longer any interest to them.”
“Then who is?”
They looked at each other. Vicki.
“We’ve got to be quick.”
Barbara clutched the battery tightly in her clenched fist as they ran down the corridor..
***
“You cannot help me.” She looked down at her feet and then back up at the Doctor, “You know, I was thinking just now, about Harry. And I don’t think that’s his name. Maybe it’s Henry. Maybe it’s Hubert or Hector or Hayden or Hermione,”
“Hortense.”
She smirked. “Maybe it was Hortense. Or maybe it doesn’t even begin with a H. They’ve messed me up. I don’t even remember much about him. I kept dreaming about him turning up on my doorstep, but maybe that didn’t even happen. Maybe he doesn’t even exist. Maybe they made him up to give me a reason to escape. Maybe I’m just their puppet and he’s the bait.”
The Doctor paused to digest this, relatively unphased. “I don’t think so. You see, my dear, they can implant memories, they can change reality as they please, but they cannot create emotion. That is something that they just don’t understand and they never will. Nothing is binary about human emotion, and that is far too complex for them to understand. And I can see it, you love him. When there is compassion there is humanity. Do you see?”
Ludie nodded, “I suppose, but what does it matter? Even if he’s real, he’s long dead.”
“My machine travels in time.”
“What difference does it make? To wait a second longer - I don’t know if I could... I think I’ll stay. After a while I’ll forget about you, they’ll make me forget and I’ll live the rest of my life in ignorance, waiting for rescue that will never come.”
“That is a possibility,” the Doctor intoned, “but what if one moment you were here and the next you were there. No time would pass at all - at least not for you.”
“Doctor, stop. I’m done with what-ifs and hoping away. Nothing ever does turn out the way you think it will. What if they hadn’t forgotten about me? What if I had been evacuated like everyone else? What if I could get home - what if everything was suddenly alright? Would I get a big fat cheque as compensation? Would I no longer have to worry about money? What if things had turned out better? I would be happy - Henry or Harry or Hortense and the girl, Saffie. Would we be a family?”
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember his name,” the Doctor said, “You love him, don’t you?”
She nodded, “Yeah, I suppose I do.”
“And Saffie?”
“Yes, but I don’t see-”
“What if,” he began, “There was another way back. What if I could freeze your ageing process? Between one blink and the next an eon could pass, just until I find a way to get you home.”
Ludie’s eyes lit up, “The cryo-pods.”
“Oh yes, they would work,” the Doctor grinned, “But I have a much better idea, something much more transportable.”
“Oh?”
“Huon particles, my dear, huon particles. This place is doused in them. You’ve certainly had enough exposure, so suppose we suspend you in these huon particles, take them back to the TARDIS and once I find your home, stimulate the particles, taking you out of suspension.”
“Will that work?”
“The equipment - this chamber - seems to be designed specifically for it. You remember what I said to Vicki? This station was designed to test it for consumer use - teleportation, you see.”
Ludie embraced the old man, “Thank you, thank you, Doctor,” she cried and laughed.
***
“Is it working? Is it charging?” Barbara hovered over Ian’s shoulder.
“Yes. It shouldn’t take long.”
They had made it to the engine room and found a few spare cables. They connected this to the battery, hoping it would work. And it did. Everything was going to be fine.They would take it back to the TARDIS. And they would leave. And it would be like none of this ever happened.
“Ian,” she spoke.
“Yes?”
“We’re happy though, in the TARDIS. For now, at least?”
Ian nodded, “Yes. We are.”
She nodded. They didn’t need to make a decision now. She could still enjoy the universe - there was still adventures to be had. But the time would come for the TARDIS to land on Earth - it had to eventually. That is when they would make their decision. And, like Ian had said, they were happy in the TARDIS.
***
She looked down at Vicki through the glass and back at the old man, “She will be okay, won’t she?”
“I suspect so.”
“Tell her I’m sorry. You could have been long gone by now if it weren’t for me.”
“It is not your fault. You didn’t know. I didn’t know. But it worked out better this way?”
She nodded, “Yes, it did.”
“Stand in the centre.”
Ludie moved into the centre of the glass chamber and stood completely still, waiting. But nothing happened.
“What’s happening, Doctor?”
“I’m just figuring out these controls… Okay, face me. Now, you may feel a slight tingling sensation.”
The Doctor depressed a button and the machine began to work, information passed through the machine, every inch of her body was being recorded into the particles in the air, every callous of her being.
And then light swallowed her up.
And only a small measure of time passed before she opened her eyes again.
***
Astra. The words remained vivid in her mind. It had always been a haven for her, a promised land. And here she was.
She knew it wasn’t real. They were tempting her - showing her could be. Perhaps, if she lived in this reality forever. Perhaps it would be better. There would be no running from monsters, or having to worry about leaving people behind. She would be at peace.
She looked out on the horizon. A burning orange sky, the sun setting over the distant autumn trees, and at her left: her dad. He looked exactly the same as when she last saw him. But he wasn’t going to die. No. Here he was. Here she was.
She looked to her right. Her mum towered over her, her long hair billowing in the wind. She looked so young and healthy - so alive.
There was nothing wrong in the world.
This was a paradise.
But it wasn’t real.
That life was gone now. Her father was dead. Her mother was dead. There was no going back to it. A voice in her head seemed to say she could be happy here. But she would know. She would always know.
None of it was real.
Perhaps, one day she would forget - they would make her forget - and she could be happy. But right now she knew it wasn’t real. She didn’t want to forget. What shaped the past shaped the future. She was who she was because what she went through, because her parents were dead, because of her other life - the one with the Doctor, Ian and Barbara in the TARDIS.
The sunset faded, as did any hope of ever going to Astra. It would always be the place she dreamed about - a new hope for herself and her family - a promised land. And it was going to stay that way: a promise unfulfilled.
She was going home.
Her real home this time.
***
There it was again. The TARDIS hum. She loved it.
She drifted into consciousness.
“Ian, lead that cable just through here and under… there… hand that to me, Chatterton. Hurry up! There! This should work.”
“Should?”
“Will work. It will work. Stand back.”
An small explosion.
“Doctor, what’s happening?”
“Just a little power surge, my dear. Stand back!”
“Is it done?”
“Yes, my dear. We’re ready to take off. Watch Vicki, I think she’s waking up.”
Vicki could feel herself slipping out of consciousness as footsteps passed her ears and out of the TARDIS doors.
***
The Doctor exited the TARDIS door into the darkened corridor. It was very quiet, like a veil of death had fallen upon the ship. It seemed odd that only minutes prior these corridors were filled heavy footsteps as the Doctor, Ian and Barbara had fled. It was peaceful, yet eerie. The Doctor struggled to imagine how Ludie had lived in this environment for so long without human company. For three years. Alone.
He let out a small cough. “I know you can hear me,” he called out into the darkness, but only silence followed. He felt slightly foolish, yet he continued.
“This plan of yours, it didn’t quite work out, did it?” he harrumphed triumphantly, “no, you see, we’re just too clever. It is over, so you might as well tell me - who are you?”
Only silence came as a reply,
“No? Are you not so keen answering? Let me see, what else… Why are you here, hm? I assume you weren’t born here… or created, or however you came into this world it wasn’t naturally, nor by your own will.”
Wind seemed to gather across the room, whispers rose out of it and words became apparent, but it wasn’t just a singular voice. Hundreds upon thousands voices spoke all at once: men, women, children, but only one voice rose above the rest. A girl’s voice, no more than a teenager. She seemed to be leading the ensemble.
“We are prisoners,” it said.
“Ah, I thought so.”
“We have been banished.”
“And rightly so.”
“You can help us.”
“No, not when you only seek to wreak havoc. You have taken years away from that girl Ludie’s life. I think it is time we moved on.”
“Please,” the voice sounded almost human, emotion leaking into its words. It was much less an ensemble of voices any more, just one, “Grandfather, please, it’s me, Susan.”
The Doctor furrowed his brow, “No. You are not Susan. Susan is gone, long gone.” He said this wistfully, “I will not help. We must go.”
“You will never find out who we are.”
It said this teasingly. It was as if it was trying to appeal to the deeply-rooted curiosity of his, that desire not just to see the universe but to understand it as well - a scientific curiosity that never relented even if it put others at risk. And for a moment, turmoil took over the Doctor. There was so much that he didn’t know about these Nightwalkers. Who were they exactly? Why were they imprisoned? And that was only the tip of the iceberg. Their power was truly fascinating.
But then he thought about Vicki and that poor girl Ludie and the damage that they caused. The moment passed.
He began again, “Maybe if I was younger and more foolish,” - too often he had been foolish - “But I am a different man now.”
The Doctor entered the TARDIS and left that world behind.
***
Ian and Barbara were hovering over Vicki. She was stirring in her sleep. She would wake up soon - properly this time. And for Ian and Barbara, they were smiling. They were happy in the TARDIS with him. For now, that was.
The Doctor pulled a lever and set the time rotor in motion, pulsing up and down, taking the ship into flight. They were free of that horrible world of deceit - it was awful, but it was behind them now.
The Doctor reach into his pocket and retrieved a small glass cube. Inside tiny lights flitted, this way and that - huon particles which now bore the only remaining trace of the girl who had waited far too long.
One day he would bring her home, to Alpha-X55.
It could be years, centuries, eons before that happened - he could regenerate half a dozen times before then - for him at least.
But for her, it would only be a small measure of time.
“They’ll be coming for us. We have to advance with our plan - we have to get away from here.”
They were pacing now down the corridor. Ian began to make out the faint light of the TARDIS in the distance.
“Doctor, what about Ludie?” Barbara moved to the Doctor’s side as Ian fell behind.
“She can come with us.”
“But does she want to?”
“It’s either that or get consumed by these Nightwalkers, my dear, now please hurry up - we don’t have much time.”
They made it to the TARDIS and the Doctor retrieved a black cylinder from his pocket: the battery.
“We need to charge this up from the engine room.”
“And then what?” Ludie asked.
“And then we take off.”
The Doctor set off in the opposite direction from which they came. Ludie and Barbara shared a look before hurrying to follow him.
“It’s too dangerous the other way - we’ve got to get to a spoke corridor in this direction and get to the engine room through there.” The Doctor explained.
“Won’t they follow us?” Ian asked.
“Exactly, Chatterton! We’ve got to stay ahead. No dilly-dallying!”
They came to the south-western sector and, following through a door, they began to work their way into the centre of the ship again along the spoke corridor.
Once they had reached the end of the corridor the Doctor turned his attention to the walls, “There should be a control along one of these walls, ah, here.” The Doctor pressed a few buttons to the left of the door and, like an elevator, the centre room of the ship began to move, the door to the living quarters ascending out of view. After a few seconds a door slid upwards into place. This was to lead to the engine room. “Go on, my dear,” the Doctor said to Ludie, “Activate the scanner.”
She seemed to hesitate.
“Girl, please hurry up. We don’t have all day.”
“Doctor, wait!” Vicki said as loudly as she could, “What about Ludie?”
“I’ve been over this with Barbara. She can come with us.?”
“But what if she doesn’t want to come with us?”
“What other choice does she have?”
“We can get her home.”
“We can get her home in the TARDIS, now stand back, girl.
Barbara moved forward, “Doctor, Vicki’s right. We can’t just whisk her away with no choice. She has a life to go back to - not all of us are so lucky to have no one waiting for them.”
She was right - not everyone was so lucky to have no one to go back to. He was free of his worries. He wasn’t once. He had Susan - but now she was gone. She had moved on. He was free now. And it was terrible. “And what do you mean by that, hm?” The Doctor was angry now - not just with impatience, with genuine seething anger. Barbara had struck a cord.
Barbara was angry now too,“You don’t have to worry about anyone other than yourself. You’re not like the rest of us.”
“I don’t have to worry about anyone other than myself? Nonsense! I have been doing nothing but worry about you this entire time. I could have just left you and Ian here, but I sacrificed our chances of making it out to stay behind - to save you.”
“Doctor-”
“We are going to reactivate the power and we are going to get in the TARDIS and leave.”
“Doctor-”
“If you have a problem with that, it doesn’t matter much to me. I’m done putting my life on the line to save you.”
“Doctor!” Vicki cried out. It was her head. She doubled over and collapsed. Ludie knelt down and nestled her head. Her eyes were closed but she was awake, just in pain. When her eyes opened she was looking up at the Doctor.
“Doctor,” she spoke softly.
“What is it, my child? Are you okay?”
“Her head - I think it’s them,” Ludie cried, “They’re working their way into her head.”
“Where is the pain coming from? Can you pinpoint the exact location?”
Vicki concentrated. It was a very precise pain, but the ever increasing ferocity made the task a struggle. Still, she was strong. “Umm, sort of behind my eyes.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Around the temporal lobe?”
“Yes, yes, oh god.”
“What is it? What’s going on?” Barbara asked.
“I don’t know… Perhaps,” he swallowed deeply before continuing, “perhaps it’s the Nightwalkers. They’re feeding off our memories but she’s the youngest, her brain is the most undeveloped - she is the most susceptible. The temporal lobe is where memory is retained, you see.”
Barbara’s hand went to her head. Now that she had mentioned it, she could feel a very slight pain in her head, behind her eyes. But why was it so much worse on Vicki?
“Of course, and you’ve had more exposure - when it grabbed you...” the Doctor’s previous anger had completely disappeared, “Vicki, my child, it’s going to be fine.”
“Doctor,” she repeated.
“Yes, child?”
“Please let Ludie speak. I know what you’re trying to do - you’re not being selfish. You’re trying to save us, putting our needs first, but please - she needs us. Just listen to her.”
She was right - the Doctor knew it. Throughout their time in the TARDIS there had been numerous times he had put his needs first, his curiosities - he thought he had been doing the right thing, trying to get them away from that whatever the cost. But he got it wrong. Their needs extend wherever there is life. Compassion was a dangerous feeling to have
“Okay, okay, my dear, I’m listening. Ludie, tell me, what do you want?”
For the first time Ludie had been consulted on the matter. And for the first time she really thought about what she wanted. Before she had just put it to the back of her mind - they would sort something out, she had said. “I want to go home.”
“We can take you home in the TARDIS. It may take some time though. It may be weeks, months before you go home.”
Ludie nodded. She understood. And she thought about her days waiting to see him again. Had it only been thirty-three days? It couldn’t be. It almost felt like years… She could not wait any longer.
“If we can control this shuttle,” Ludie said, “Could we get it out of this dimension? Could we get it home?”
The Doctor rubbed his chin, “Maybe. There is no way of knowing. The Nightwalkers may still be stabilising the black hole and well-”
“But there is a chance, yes?”
The Doctor nodded, “Yes, there is a chance. We can try if you like.”
Ludie nodded.
“New plan,” the Doctor announced, “Barbara, Ian - you have the blueprint - yes?” - they nodded - “You go to the engine room and reactivate the power - we will need it to direct the ship. We may just have enough power to direct the ship away from here. Once done there should be a communication unit across the computers. Activate that and we can communicate. I’ll give you further instructions then.” He turned to Vicki and Ludie, “You two, come with me. There is only one logical place of keeping a control room aboard the shuttle.”
“Where’s that?”
“The laboratory.”
***
Ludie and Vicki followed the Doctor into a large auditorium resembling a lecture hall, however slightly more clinical. Seating ascended upwards and outwards from a large circular stage in the centre of the room. At centre stage a chamber sealed off from the rest of the room by a thick layer of protective glass sat, lined by various machines which to Vicki resembled large phaser guns, all pointing directly into the middle.
This was the main room in the laboratory, located dead in the centre. However, Vicki thought, it didn’t look much like a laboratory. She had been expecting wooden work benches and test tubes.
They struggled down the stairs of the colossal laboratory into the centre. It was only then they spoke.
“It’s fantastic,” Vicki exclaimed.
“Yes, very high tech equipment. That must be a particle accelerator - a very compact one at that - and this, ah, some sort of micro-level camera recording device.”
“What are all these seats?”
“For observing of course. I doubt there are any other rooms like this on board - where else would hundreds of scientists go?”
“They all gathered here? What for? What were they observing?”
“From the equipment, I’d say something to do with huon particles.”
This took Ludie by surprise, “You mean…?”
“Yes, my dear, a station full of scientists doesn’t just accidentally get too close to a black hole. They were intentionally. These particles shouldn’t be in your universe, in your time - their ancient and suppose some stray ones passed through from this dimension to yours. It would attract a sizeable audience of scientists.”
“So, this is what they were doing? Collecting samples?”
The Doctor nodded, “It is human nature, my dear.”
“Curiosity?”
“The need to process everything they find to sell.”
“Of course,” Vicki marvelled, “They can be used for teleportation.”
The Doctor nodded. Up until then Ludie had been silent. Finally she spoke out, “Is the control panel in here?”
“Presumably. Who else is better suited to directing this shuttle than the scientists themselves?”
Yet they needed a nurse.
***
Ian and Barbara had followed the blueprint around a complex series of corridors. These, Ludie had said, she had traversed on her first day awake on board the ship. The corridors were lined with various pipes and cables.After a while, Ian decided the best thing to was to follow the cables to their source rather than follow a map.
Barbara stopped in her tracks, “Ian, did you hear that?”
It was barely a whisper but she thought she had heard her name. Just for a second. Was it them? Had the Nightwalkers followed them?
“What was it?”
Barbara waited, but no other noise came to her ears apart from her own breathing.
“We shouldn’t be too far now.”
They continued to follow the cables until it began to lead outwards again. Barbara expressed her doubts but Ian knew to press on. This paid off and the corridors began to wind inwards again, towards a centre. Eventually they came to a door (without a scanner) and it slid open.
“This is an engine room alright.”
The floor beneath their feet became a mesh grating suspended over hundreds of feet of machinery. Barbara tried not to look down, but it was all so fascinating. The grating led them around the edge of the room. It went on to descend downwards towards the frighteningly-big machinery beneath them, but they needn’t to advance any further. They came across a wall that was lined with lined with wires and various switches. “This must be it.”
The Doctor had said it wouldn’t be too difficult to find the right wire. He was wrong. The wall stretched across the width of the room and what seemed like million of wires were tangled across the surface of the wall. It would be impossible. However, on closer inspection, Ian noticed the wires were labeled.
“Help me, Barbara. Check the labels.”
“What are we looking for?”
“Anything to do with an emergency power-saving mode.”
They started at opposite ends of the wall, checking each wire’s label before moving onto the next one.
“Anything?” Ian said after a few good minutes of searching.
“No… not… yet… Ah! Emergency power reservation system,” Barbara read, “This must be it!”
Ian moved to her side, “Yes, that’s the one! Well done!” They embraced before turning their attention back to the wire.
“We need something sharp.”
They split up in search of said sharp object. Barbara, on finding a cleaner’s cupboard, returned with a penknife and set about the task of cutting the wire.
“Be careful.” Ian warned.
The knife soon cut straight through the wire but alas nothing happened.
“There must be backup wires in a parallel circuit, in case this one fails.”
“How about these?” She held up three wires with the same label on them: Emergency power reservation system.
Ian nodded. They seemed to be the right ones. Barbara cut each of them in turn.
As soon as the knife made a clean cut through the last of the wires, Ian and Barbara were blinded in a white light. Above them, the lights had turned back on. They had done it!
***
Ludie, Vicki and the Doctor looked up at the ceiling. The power had been restored.
“Where is the nearest computer system? We need to contact them.”
“Down there.” Vicki pointed to the glass chamber at the centre of the room. The outside was lined with screens and accompanying chairs. After descending the remaining steps, they made their way around the glass chamber and situated themselves at the biggest screen - this seemed to be the master computer.
“Anything yet?”
“No,” the Doctor frowned.
Vicki wondered how much longer this would take. The pain in her head was growing again...
***
They left the energy room pretty swiftly. They continued through corridors, using their instincts to find a corridor that led inwards. Ian became irritated with the fact the corridors seemed to take the least direct route as possible, taking them in almost a zig-zag to the centre. In this monotony of corridors, Ian’s mind drifted to Shoreditch. It had seemed so real. It was like they had reached the finishing line after all this time. Only it wasn’t the finishing line; in reality made no progress at all. They were in exactly the same predicament as before; nothing had changed. Their chance of getting home was still very unlikely, yet it felt closer. To smell the London air, to see London, to hear London - it only made him want it more.
“Do you want to go back? Home, I mean.”
Barbara was surprised to find she needed to think about it. “I think so. It’s what we’ve always wanted, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t. There’s so much out there and so much I’ve seen, and then to go back to everyday life…”
“Perhaps this is where we’re meant to be.”
“Perhaps.” She smiled coyly.
The conversation halted on that sentiment. Barbara took her time to formulate her words before she spurred it into a new direction. “You remember when the Doctor said I was fighting the Nightwalkers in my sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I had a dream - my 10th birthday and I received a letter from my dad. Only it wasn’t really for him. It was a horrible memory.”
Ian reflected he had a similar experience - he had passed out after Shoreditch and he dreamt about his mum, back in the war. He told this to Barbara.
“There has to be something to their selection process. They don’t choose random dreams. They make us relive these bad memories, to make us feel exactly what we felt in that moment, to bring those feelings flooding back. To make us act irrationally. What they don’t understand is that it isn’t as clear-cut as that. For a while I felt angry, yes, but there was so many more emotions attached to that memory.”
“Like?” Ian pressed.
“Love. Compassion. Pain. I didn’t realise it at the time but now I know what my mother did was an act of love, of wanting me to be happy.”
“The benefit of hindsight.” Ian stated.
“Yes, the benefit of hindsight, but it’s more than that,” Barbara mused, “There are no bad memories or good memories. It’s much more complicated than that. I don’t think any point in my life has made me feel so strongly one emotion and nothing else to contradict it.”
Barbara paused on this thought. It seemed to her the good of the universe was indefinitely intertwined with the bad. There would always be positives and drawbacks to certain actions. There would always be unenjoyable moments within the enjoyable ones. She realised this was very much how she felt about travelling with the Doctor. There was the fantastic spirit of adventure, yes, but there was also moments of danger. Moments when she feared for her life, for Ian’s, for Vicki’s, even for that stubborn old man who got them into this mess in the first place. But what was the alternative? Leaving every chance of returning to this life to return to Earth - but for what?
“I suppose,” she continued, “We have to ask ourselves whether returning to Earth, would it be worth it? Going home, I mean. Would it be better than this?”
“Safer, definitely. Better, maybe.”
“They wanted me to feel angry. To act irrationally.”
“Who?”
“The Nightwalkers, that’s why they brought me into that memory, to watch it unfold all over again. But they got it wrong. I am not angry. I am not irrational. I feel loved. Loved by someone I haven’t seen in a very long time. Someone who I owe to not just them, but myself too, to see again.”
Ian remembered his mother clutching him closer to her, his heart thudding fast in his chest as he feared for his life. He realised, once again, he shared very much the same sentiments as Barbara.
“We have to ask ourselves whether it would be worth it to leave this life behind, yes, but we also have to ask ourselves whether we want to leave the life we had before behind for good. Whether we have said everything that needs to be said, to everyone that we hold dear.”
Was he okay with leaving that life behind? Could he say goodbye to it all for the sake of adventure? No. He wasn’t ready to make that decision. He turned to Barbara and in her eyes he noted she clearly felt very much the same way.
“Ian, can you hear them?”
Ian stopped, listened intently and answered: “No,” he started up again, “let’s take a left here.”
Barbara bit her lip. She could definitely hear them - they had followed them. Whispers echoed from a multitude of directions, much louder than they had been before. This worried her. They were getting more powerful. But it wasn’t just that. Only she could hear them. She had remembered what Ludie said about how they clung on while you slept, working their way into your head. Perhaps that is why she was more affected by them than Ian - they had already found their way into her head and now they were free to burrow further and further until she could no longer tell reality from fantasy. They wanted to control her in the most noncommittal way possible, working not against but with her, showing her things to influence her actions but not to directly control them. But what was the endpoint of that?
“We are simply vehicles,” Barbara uttered, “And they are trying to direct us.” She turned to Ian before continuing, “If you were an alien entity trapped in a black hole, what would you want most?”
Ian shrugged, “To escape. Just like us.”
Barbara furrowed her brow at this. Just like us. And then it dawned on her. “Ian, remember what I said back in the maintenance bay? The Nightwalkers are showing us what we want the most to make us act irrational, yes?” Ian nodded. “What do you think Ludie sees?”
“Home, I suppose. Her boyfriend.”
Barbara nodded, “Exactly. As if to fuel her desire to get home. We are the vehicles, Ian. That’s what they want. They’ve had a taste of what it's like to feed of our memories - and now they’re hungry for more. By escaping, Ludie will be leading a ship full of Nightwalkers to a planet full of humans, full of human memories. What then?”
Ian turned to her, an expression of worry deeply set into his face, working its way into his eyebrows now furrowed in the light of realisation, “We’ve got to warn the Doctor.” Barbara nodded in agreement and the two broke into a run.
Before long the weight of her legs become apparent to Barbara and the icy cold of the ship around her, barely enough for human survival, worked its way into her lungs. She could feel the cold grabbing at her legs, thickening until a dense fog clawed at her legs, tendrils of the substances folding over itself constantly, wrapping itself around her legs.
“Ian!” Barbara cried.
“I can see it too!”
That was enough for Barbara. She had to keep pushing. She wasn’t alone. Here was Ian, by her side, fighting the same fight.
As the fog fell thicker and thicker, the corridor lights began to falter, flickering on and off as if they were unsure whether they were functioning or not. Deciding on the latter, the room was plunged into darkness. Barbara was no longer sure whether this was actually happening or the work of the Nightwalker’s illusions. She decided it didn’t matter. She thrust her hand out into the darkness to her left and felt Ian’s hand reach back.
Ian, just able to make out the sharp bend of the wall - which would be impossible to do if it was really dark, he thought, and must be something to do with reality bleeding through into his subconscious - knew to take a sharp right. Their feet pounded at the metal grating beneath them as they rounded the corner.
“Ian, look!” They slowed to a stop and stared ahead in awe.
A hue of an unworldly purple shone throughout the darkness, punctuating the corridor with a brilliant yet frightening light. Against the light they could see figures moving in the darkness. There must have been tens of hundreds of them, moving all at once in various directions. Ian became aware of voices in the darkness - no one in particular, rather voices of men, women, children; babies crying; cries of woe, begging for help.
Barbara looked at Ian and Ian looked at Barbara, their hands gripped together tighter than before and they set off down the corridor. Barbara could feel her heart pounding in her ears, unrelenting - as could Ian. As they approached the figures features that weren’t previously there began to protrude, a nose broke the surface of the blank face of mist; between one blink and the next, what was previously a featureless torso became clothes, hanging from the pale figure’s body.
“It is alright, my dear.”
Ian faltered - it wasn’t just that he heard it, he felt it. He could feel the warm breath breathing into his ear.
“It is alright. It is alright. It is alright.”
Ian remembered those words as they had been said, buried deep underground, in his mother’s lap. He remembered how she had stroked the back of his neck while saying those words. “It is alright, my dear.” He wanted to believe her then, he wanted to believe her now, but she was not real. She was not here. That warm air breathed into his ear was actually the clammy embrace of fog, the hand on the back of his neck was nothing more than a tendril of mist, and his mother stood before him was not his mother. It was not his mother. It was not his mother.
He moved forward, eager to break the mist, to break the illusion, and yet Barbara, attached to him by clasped hand, stood still. He saw in her eyes what she saw was more than just an image of a loved one, something much more terrifying.
Barbara did not hear any words, not a name whispered into her ear, not even the remnants of a memory spoonfed to her. Instead she saw something much worse: the works of a young girl’s imagination, one who had lost far more than a young girl should lose.
She had heard about the war on the playground, at school, from fragments of conversation overheard in public. She had heard about the horror, about the bombs, about the planes, about the tanks. She had heard about how many men died, blown to pieces, shot through the head, murdered in cold blood. And stood before her was the product of just that: a man, a soldier, murdered many times over, shot, grazed, stabbed, burned, gouged, dying. His lips moved ever so slightly, nothing more than a murmur uttered through his cracked lips.
With the one eye he had left, he blinked slowly and fixed his gaze on Barbara. It was only then she noticed he was crying. His hands moved to his head and removed his cap to reveal thick, dark hair, matted with blood. It was as if he was trying to make himself known to her, trying to make her realise who he was, but she had known it the first second she had laid her eyes on him.
For a split second, she had seen a very different image - a young man, beaming, very much happy, loving towards his daughter, his wife, and loved in return - but the burnt and bloodied soldier soon returned.
“Bar-bie.”
And then he was accelerating towards her, his destroyed face approaching, closer with every second. No, she was approaching him.
Ian was pulling her in his direction. She resisted, but he had gathered an undying momentum. Together they tumbled through the figure, through Ian’s mother, through Barbara’s father and out the other side, feeling nothing more but the cold embrace of the mist.
Featureless figures flitted around them, left, right, backwards, forwards, they came from all directions and moved in all directions. Barbara could hear them screaming, crying, but she didn’t recognise any of them. For a moment, the idea that they were the original passengers of the ship came to her mind, but she soon forgot about it and focused on the task of pushing through the fog. It grew denser and her limbs heavier. It was like the Nightwalkers were putting up a fight, and for a second it seemed like they were winning, but the moment passed and they continued to push through the now thick and viscous air around them. The voices faded and in their place a cry erupted all around them, far beyond human capability, screeching, wailing, cursing all at once.
When Barbara opened her eyes again, the fog was a distinct brown, a chocolate-coloured pail - and the ground squelchy and malleable beneath her shoes. It was like mud. As they progressed it began to feel deeper and deeper until it seemed to pile to her knees, then in thinned out. They were no longer in a spaceship corridor, but on earth, on a battlefield, stepping over the bodies of the wasted young, working their way to the surface of the mud like foreign bodies to the surface of the skin.
Barbara made the mistake of looking down at one of the bodies and the lifeless eyes of her father stared back at her. He was dead, it seemed, but his mouth was open and seemed to be emitting this deafening, inhuman scream. She reminded herself it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, but the imagery had been singed into her mind and when she closed her eyes it was still there.
It could have only been seconds, but it felt like years, when all measure of time other than how many breaths they had left was impotent, time passed slowly. Very, very slowly. But pass it did, and the moment - the hell - was over. Barbara could hear her pumps clicking against the metal ground, she could feel the fog thinning until they came to a door.
Relieved, gasping for air, they activated the seal and, only when the door was securely locked behind them, they collapsed onto the ground, still clutching each other’s hand tightly as if they were to do so for the rest of their lives.
“Are you okay? You’re not hurt?” Ian said between heavy breaths.
“No, I’m fine. Just a little shook up, that’s all.”
They lay there for a while, catching their breath and after a few minutes, they clambered to their feet. They seemed to be in the entrance to a large chamber. They followed the entrance through a couple of metres and the ceiling soon opened wide upwards and outwards. They had made it to the cryo-chamber.
Tens upon hundreds of cryo-pods were lined up in front of her. Barbara counted four rows of the machines, each with roughly ten or fifteen.
“Incredible,” Ian exclaimed.
“Yes,” Barbara agreed, “There must have been hundreds of people on board.”
“There’s certainly the capacity,” Ian remarked. They inspected the closest cryo-pod. “Lifeform ejected 1056 days ago.” Ian whistled, “Just under three years.”
They moved onto the next machine and inspected its display, “Hang on,” Barbara moved onto the next one, and the next one, “Ian, look! These all say they were opened 31,455 days ago.”
“No,” Ian said in disbelief.
“That’s what they say.”
“How long is that? That must be… eighty-five, ninety years.”
“It can’t have been that long, can it?”
“Quite possibly, this is high-tech stuff.”
Barbara paused, “If these cryo-pods were evacuated ninety years ago and Ludie only thirty-three days ago, she’s not going to have very much to go back to.”
“No,” Ian frowned, “I expect everyone she once knew is long dead by now,” he grimaced for a minute as if to be respectful.
Barbara continued to dart from one machine to the next, reading the displays before moving onto the next one, “Ian?”
“Yes, Barbara?”
“It’s just, I can’t seem to find a pod that was opened thirty-three days ago.”
“Huh, that’s strange. Let me see… No, me neither.”
“Unless,” Barbara returned to the first cryo-pod they had checked. It was in a darkened part of the room, with a concealing shadow hanging over it. It is easy to imagine how it would be forgotten and looked over, “Unless this is Ludie’s machine.”
“No, it can’t be. She said she had been here thirty-three days, not three years.”
Barbara looked at Ian and Ian looked at Barbara. He could see she was thinking very much the same thing.
But then, of course, the Nightwalkers - if they broke you down enough - could very easily make it seem that way.
***
The computer unit crackled to life a voice filtered through the static. It was Ian.
“Doctor, Vicki: can you hear me?”
“Chatterton, my boy, I can hear you! Can you hear me?” He had taken on a new tone of urgency.
“Loud and clear! How is it up there?”
“We are fine. And you? Are you safe?”
“We are now, although we had a bit of a run-in with them just a few minutes ago. It’s like they were trying to stop us from getting to cryo-chamber and now I know why. Doctor, look, there is something you should know, something Ludie should know.
Ludie spoke up,“Yes, what is it?”
“Ludie, it’s me, Barbara.”
“What do you need to tell me?”
“You said you were here thirty-three days?”
“Yes, why?”
“Well, it’s just we think you’ve been here much longer than that. Much closer to three years.”
“Three years?” the Doctor exclaimed, “What are you talking about, my dear?”
“We’re in the cryo-chamber, and well Ludie’s machine said it was opened 1056 days ago.”
“I see, most worrying indeed,” the Doctor mused. Ludie however was silent. Three years. Had it really been that long? No, it couldn’t have. She remembered the day she had awoken exactly. That couldn’t have been three years ago. And she remembered every day since. Except… she didn’t. Not really. They all seemed to merge into one long narrative - but that was easily accounted for by the lack of long periods of sleep. It was very possible she had been here longer than thirty-three days - forty, fifty maybe, but three years… It couldn’t be right.
“But that’s not all,” Ian spoke again, “The other cryo-pods in the room date back much further. They were last opened 87 years ago. I’m sorry, Ludie, but this ship took off over 87 years ago. I suspect there isn’t much left of your planet, at least, not how you remembered it.”
Ludie could feel herself losing balance, she stumbled but the Doctor rushed forward to her aid. He guided her to a seat. 87 years. Harry would be long dead. Saffie would be dead. Everyone she ever knew would be dead. For the first time in a while, for the first time in almost three years, for the first time since that day she had awoken to an empty ship, Ludie cried. She had tried to put on a show of bravery, for Harry. That is what he would have wanted. But it didn’t matter anymore. He was dead. After all this time he was dead. She felt foolish.
“Ludie, I’m sorry,” Barbara’s voice came through the speaker, “They were trying to hide the fact - they tried to get us away from the cryo-chamber. They didn’t want us to know. They didn’t want you to lose hope.”
Lose hope? Hope of what? Seeing her family again? Returning to her normal life? Nothing would ever be the same.
“Barbara, Chatterton-”
Vicki grabbed the Doctor’s arm with urgency. “Doctor, I can feel them again! They’re in my head!”
It was the same pain as before, something very malevolent - not the dull, aching pain of a normal headache, but something that felt penetrative, burrowing deep into her brain with a stringently-focused effect.
“They’re eating your memories.”
“Doctor,” - the tears were clearly flowing now - “please make it stop,”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, I cannot, my dear. But you can,” he turned to Ludie, “Come with us. The sooner we get away the better. Maybe there’s still a chance we can do so before it’s too late.”
“What do you mean too late?” Barbara’s voice rang. Vicki was still crying out.
“If its attacks are centred on the temporal lobe it’s only a matter of time before it makes some permanent damage and Vicki will lose her memory.”
***
Barbara felt helpless. There was nothing she could do to help Vicki. She remembered what she had said to Ian. They were the vehicles - and the Nightwalkers wanted to control them, but it went much deeper than bringing up old emotions. “Maybe,” Barbara said, “they’ve realised we have outsmarted them. We overlooked their illusions, so they’re trying to wear away our perception of reality.”
“Wearing away the old memories to make it easier to implant new ones…” Ian articulated, “Who controls the past controls the present: who controls the present controls the future.”
“George Orwell?
Ian nodded.
Barbara continued, “They are controlling our pasts to influence the way we act. They are creating new memories in the place of old ones - changing the way we act. Controlling us indirectly through controlling who we are. Doctor? That’s it, isn’t it?”
No reply came. Only Vicki’s blood-curdling scream and then-
Static.
***
Darkness surrounded her, her head pounded, her vision blurred. She placed a hand in front of her face only to see millions of hands at once, moving unilaterally. Vicki shut her eyes and focused.
She opened her eyes once again. This time she could see. She was in a bed, a darkened room. As her eyes adjusted to the light she began to make out features - a sleek metal wall lined one side of the bed - and then shapes - another bed was situated not far from her, dwarfing the already small room. On the edge of the bed sat a man, positioned with his back to her. He seemed to be tying his shoelaces as he as bent over with his arms stretching down to his legs.
Vicki repositioned herself on the bed so we was sitting upright. In doing so the bedsheets rustled and the man’s attention was caught. Vicki couldn’t quite make out a face in the dim light but she could see his torso move around until he was facing her. He stared at her for a few seconds before getting to his feet and started across the room towards her.
Vicki’s heart jolted in her chest. She tried to get up but her limbs felt heavy. She dared not tear her attention from the man. It was only as he was mere feet away she noticed a smile plastered on his face. And with that the panic left her.She didn’t feel scared anymore. Instead a warm feeling erupted from inside her chest.
“You alright, darling?” He sat on her bed by her legs. His hand moved to her face, Vicki flinched, but it was only to move strands of her blonde hair from her eyes, “Hey, hey, what is it? Are you okay?”
She opened her mouth but only a guttural choke came to her lips.
“Listen, they want me in the hull, I’ve got to go. Get some sleep.” He left her side and moved to the door, “Are you okay?”
Vicki nodded and licking the parched lips, she formulated a sentence, “I’m okay, dad. I was just dreaming. I think.”
He smiled encouragingly, “Alright, darling. See you later.”
And then he left.
And then she remembered. That was it. That was the final time she saw her dad.
No, she had to see him again. She got to feet and called out, “Dad!”
It seemed to echo around her endlessly, the tail end of her words swallowed by a high-pitched tone, rising in volume until she could hear nothing else but this tone. The tone seemed to transform into a piercing scream. Her vision blacked out and as she lost consciousness the last thought that ran through her mind was the fact the scream she was hearing was her own.
***
“She’s still breathing,” the Doctor announced.
“Will she be okay?”
“I don’t know. The sooner we get away from here the better. How do you feel?”
“Fine. I’ve just learned everyone I have ever known is dead, but surprisingly… I’m fine.”
“You could still come with us. There is always room in the TARDIS.”
Ludie shook her head, “I’ve had enough waiting. It felt like thirty-three days but a little part of me knew it was longer. I couldn’t remember much of it - I suppose that was them, wearing me down. I can remember it now though - I remember each day. How slow time passed. Every second I thought of him. For three years.” Then she stood up. Wiping her hands on her trousers, she turned to the Doctor, invigorated with a new energy. “We don’t have much longer left. I suppose we better make a start, Where’s this control panel then?”
The Doctor was silent. He just looked at the girl curiously.
“C’mon, Doctor. Take me there.”
“We’re here. This is it - the control panel.” He gestured to the bank of computers surrounding the glass chamber. It was a curious set up but one that saved time nonetheless.
“Right, then, let’s do it then. Let’s take me home.”
The Doctor looked at Vicki, lying across the floor. He had placed his coat under her head for support.
“Doctor?”
Finally, he looked at Ludie and shook his head. “You know we can’t do that. The Nightwalkers have gotten into the shuttle. If we leave now we’ll be carrying Nightwalkers back to our own universe. That’ll only cause more trouble. It’s best if this ship stays put, to contain it.” To his surprise she wasn’t particularly dismayed. It was like he just telling her something she was already aware of. Perhaps, she was, deep inside. Maybe they had made her forget but things never really go away. Not really.“Maybe if things were different and we arrived a day earlier, we could have done it, but no.”
“Who controls the past controls the present: who controls the present controls the future.” Ludie repeated.
The Doctor nodded, “This is what they want - you said you thought about him every second of everyday for three years. I suspect that was them - flooding your head with memories of him.”
“I saw him in my dreams as well. It was always the same dream,” she smiled forlornly, “Baggy suit, swept back hair. Roses…” Or maybe it was lilies. She had thought of that memory so often but now she came to think of it, she couldn’t even remember which type of flowers the bouquet was.
***
“It’s cut off,” Ian jammed the computer keys angrily, “What do we do?”
“We’ve got to use our initiative.”
“Right,” Ian nodded, “We’ve got to power up the TARDIS. So… We need a power source...”
Barbara nodded, “The engine room. C’mon!”
They moved to the door. Ian’s hand hovered over the panel, “Ready?”
“Ready.” Barbara nodded.
Beyond the door they would be waiting, the Nightwalkers. But they had to take the risk, to get back to the TARDIS, to get Vicki away from here.
Ian placed his hand on the scanner and the door slip open.
Barbara expected screams. She expected figures. She expected chaos. But the corridor was quiet.
“What happened, where are they?”
“Gone. We’re no longer any interest to them.”
“Then who is?”
They looked at each other. Vicki.
“We’ve got to be quick.”
Barbara clutched the battery tightly in her clenched fist as they ran down the corridor..
***
“You cannot help me.” She looked down at her feet and then back up at the Doctor, “You know, I was thinking just now, about Harry. And I don’t think that’s his name. Maybe it’s Henry. Maybe it’s Hubert or Hector or Hayden or Hermione,”
“Hortense.”
She smirked. “Maybe it was Hortense. Or maybe it doesn’t even begin with a H. They’ve messed me up. I don’t even remember much about him. I kept dreaming about him turning up on my doorstep, but maybe that didn’t even happen. Maybe he doesn’t even exist. Maybe they made him up to give me a reason to escape. Maybe I’m just their puppet and he’s the bait.”
The Doctor paused to digest this, relatively unphased. “I don’t think so. You see, my dear, they can implant memories, they can change reality as they please, but they cannot create emotion. That is something that they just don’t understand and they never will. Nothing is binary about human emotion, and that is far too complex for them to understand. And I can see it, you love him. When there is compassion there is humanity. Do you see?”
Ludie nodded, “I suppose, but what does it matter? Even if he’s real, he’s long dead.”
“My machine travels in time.”
“What difference does it make? To wait a second longer - I don’t know if I could... I think I’ll stay. After a while I’ll forget about you, they’ll make me forget and I’ll live the rest of my life in ignorance, waiting for rescue that will never come.”
“That is a possibility,” the Doctor intoned, “but what if one moment you were here and the next you were there. No time would pass at all - at least not for you.”
“Doctor, stop. I’m done with what-ifs and hoping away. Nothing ever does turn out the way you think it will. What if they hadn’t forgotten about me? What if I had been evacuated like everyone else? What if I could get home - what if everything was suddenly alright? Would I get a big fat cheque as compensation? Would I no longer have to worry about money? What if things had turned out better? I would be happy - Henry or Harry or Hortense and the girl, Saffie. Would we be a family?”
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember his name,” the Doctor said, “You love him, don’t you?”
She nodded, “Yeah, I suppose I do.”
“And Saffie?”
“Yes, but I don’t see-”
“What if,” he began, “There was another way back. What if I could freeze your ageing process? Between one blink and the next an eon could pass, just until I find a way to get you home.”
Ludie’s eyes lit up, “The cryo-pods.”
“Oh yes, they would work,” the Doctor grinned, “But I have a much better idea, something much more transportable.”
“Oh?”
“Huon particles, my dear, huon particles. This place is doused in them. You’ve certainly had enough exposure, so suppose we suspend you in these huon particles, take them back to the TARDIS and once I find your home, stimulate the particles, taking you out of suspension.”
“Will that work?”
“The equipment - this chamber - seems to be designed specifically for it. You remember what I said to Vicki? This station was designed to test it for consumer use - teleportation, you see.”
Ludie embraced the old man, “Thank you, thank you, Doctor,” she cried and laughed.
***
“Is it working? Is it charging?” Barbara hovered over Ian’s shoulder.
“Yes. It shouldn’t take long.”
They had made it to the engine room and found a few spare cables. They connected this to the battery, hoping it would work. And it did. Everything was going to be fine.They would take it back to the TARDIS. And they would leave. And it would be like none of this ever happened.
“Ian,” she spoke.
“Yes?”
“We’re happy though, in the TARDIS. For now, at least?”
Ian nodded, “Yes. We are.”
She nodded. They didn’t need to make a decision now. She could still enjoy the universe - there was still adventures to be had. But the time would come for the TARDIS to land on Earth - it had to eventually. That is when they would make their decision. And, like Ian had said, they were happy in the TARDIS.
***
She looked down at Vicki through the glass and back at the old man, “She will be okay, won’t she?”
“I suspect so.”
“Tell her I’m sorry. You could have been long gone by now if it weren’t for me.”
“It is not your fault. You didn’t know. I didn’t know. But it worked out better this way?”
She nodded, “Yes, it did.”
“Stand in the centre.”
Ludie moved into the centre of the glass chamber and stood completely still, waiting. But nothing happened.
“What’s happening, Doctor?”
“I’m just figuring out these controls… Okay, face me. Now, you may feel a slight tingling sensation.”
The Doctor depressed a button and the machine began to work, information passed through the machine, every inch of her body was being recorded into the particles in the air, every callous of her being.
And then light swallowed her up.
And only a small measure of time passed before she opened her eyes again.
***
Astra. The words remained vivid in her mind. It had always been a haven for her, a promised land. And here she was.
She knew it wasn’t real. They were tempting her - showing her could be. Perhaps, if she lived in this reality forever. Perhaps it would be better. There would be no running from monsters, or having to worry about leaving people behind. She would be at peace.
She looked out on the horizon. A burning orange sky, the sun setting over the distant autumn trees, and at her left: her dad. He looked exactly the same as when she last saw him. But he wasn’t going to die. No. Here he was. Here she was.
She looked to her right. Her mum towered over her, her long hair billowing in the wind. She looked so young and healthy - so alive.
There was nothing wrong in the world.
This was a paradise.
But it wasn’t real.
That life was gone now. Her father was dead. Her mother was dead. There was no going back to it. A voice in her head seemed to say she could be happy here. But she would know. She would always know.
None of it was real.
Perhaps, one day she would forget - they would make her forget - and she could be happy. But right now she knew it wasn’t real. She didn’t want to forget. What shaped the past shaped the future. She was who she was because what she went through, because her parents were dead, because of her other life - the one with the Doctor, Ian and Barbara in the TARDIS.
The sunset faded, as did any hope of ever going to Astra. It would always be the place she dreamed about - a new hope for herself and her family - a promised land. And it was going to stay that way: a promise unfulfilled.
She was going home.
Her real home this time.
***
There it was again. The TARDIS hum. She loved it.
She drifted into consciousness.
“Ian, lead that cable just through here and under… there… hand that to me, Chatterton. Hurry up! There! This should work.”
“Should?”
“Will work. It will work. Stand back.”
An small explosion.
“Doctor, what’s happening?”
“Just a little power surge, my dear. Stand back!”
“Is it done?”
“Yes, my dear. We’re ready to take off. Watch Vicki, I think she’s waking up.”
Vicki could feel herself slipping out of consciousness as footsteps passed her ears and out of the TARDIS doors.
***
The Doctor exited the TARDIS door into the darkened corridor. It was very quiet, like a veil of death had fallen upon the ship. It seemed odd that only minutes prior these corridors were filled heavy footsteps as the Doctor, Ian and Barbara had fled. It was peaceful, yet eerie. The Doctor struggled to imagine how Ludie had lived in this environment for so long without human company. For three years. Alone.
He let out a small cough. “I know you can hear me,” he called out into the darkness, but only silence followed. He felt slightly foolish, yet he continued.
“This plan of yours, it didn’t quite work out, did it?” he harrumphed triumphantly, “no, you see, we’re just too clever. It is over, so you might as well tell me - who are you?”
Only silence came as a reply,
“No? Are you not so keen answering? Let me see, what else… Why are you here, hm? I assume you weren’t born here… or created, or however you came into this world it wasn’t naturally, nor by your own will.”
Wind seemed to gather across the room, whispers rose out of it and words became apparent, but it wasn’t just a singular voice. Hundreds upon thousands voices spoke all at once: men, women, children, but only one voice rose above the rest. A girl’s voice, no more than a teenager. She seemed to be leading the ensemble.
“We are prisoners,” it said.
“Ah, I thought so.”
“We have been banished.”
“And rightly so.”
“You can help us.”
“No, not when you only seek to wreak havoc. You have taken years away from that girl Ludie’s life. I think it is time we moved on.”
“Please,” the voice sounded almost human, emotion leaking into its words. It was much less an ensemble of voices any more, just one, “Grandfather, please, it’s me, Susan.”
The Doctor furrowed his brow, “No. You are not Susan. Susan is gone, long gone.” He said this wistfully, “I will not help. We must go.”
“You will never find out who we are.”
It said this teasingly. It was as if it was trying to appeal to the deeply-rooted curiosity of his, that desire not just to see the universe but to understand it as well - a scientific curiosity that never relented even if it put others at risk. And for a moment, turmoil took over the Doctor. There was so much that he didn’t know about these Nightwalkers. Who were they exactly? Why were they imprisoned? And that was only the tip of the iceberg. Their power was truly fascinating.
But then he thought about Vicki and that poor girl Ludie and the damage that they caused. The moment passed.
He began again, “Maybe if I was younger and more foolish,” - too often he had been foolish - “But I am a different man now.”
The Doctor entered the TARDIS and left that world behind.
***
Ian and Barbara were hovering over Vicki. She was stirring in her sleep. She would wake up soon - properly this time. And for Ian and Barbara, they were smiling. They were happy in the TARDIS with him. For now, that was.
The Doctor pulled a lever and set the time rotor in motion, pulsing up and down, taking the ship into flight. They were free of that horrible world of deceit - it was awful, but it was behind them now.
The Doctor reach into his pocket and retrieved a small glass cube. Inside tiny lights flitted, this way and that - huon particles which now bore the only remaining trace of the girl who had waited far too long.
One day he would bring her home, to Alpha-X55.
It could be years, centuries, eons before that happened - he could regenerate half a dozen times before then - for him at least.
But for her, it would only be a small measure of time.
writer - JAMES OSWALD
cover art - JANINE RIVERS
story editors - ZOE LANCE & ED GOUNDREY-SMITH
producers - JANINE RIVERS & ED GOUNDREY-SMITH
cover art - JANINE RIVERS
story editors - ZOE LANCE & ED GOUNDREY-SMITH
producers - JANINE RIVERS & ED GOUNDREY-SMITH