You will probably want to read the Introduction before you start.
Prologue
The intermittent flashing of the red warning-light lit up the dim, chilly room. The Doctor rubbed his hands together, feeling himself shiver. Yet it was the cold that seemed the most desirable option – the Doctor understood that what he was about to do would be enough to make anyone ill.
“There is the policy of containment,” came the muffled voice from the inter-com. The inter-com functioned as a translator, turning obscure Eastern languages into a monotonous British drone. “The area could be removed from the world. We could build walls-“
“This isn’t Chernobyl,” interrupted the Doctor with a sigh. “It’s not fair that we keep this up. You know the protocols. You know what to do about threats to national security.”
“Yes. We know.”
“Good.” The Doctor exhaled quietly.
“We kill them all.”
“There is the policy of containment,” came the muffled voice from the inter-com. The inter-com functioned as a translator, turning obscure Eastern languages into a monotonous British drone. “The area could be removed from the world. We could build walls-“
“This isn’t Chernobyl,” interrupted the Doctor with a sigh. “It’s not fair that we keep this up. You know the protocols. You know what to do about threats to national security.”
“Yes. We know.”
“Good.” The Doctor exhaled quietly.
“We kill them all.”
The Eighth Doctor Adventures
Series 1 - Episode 3
Peacepoint
Written by The Genie
A Few Hours Earlier
“Where next?” asked the Doctor, adjusting the controls on the console. Robin sat perched on the first step down to the control area.
“There is something I wanted to ask you,” began Robin, summoning up the courage.
“Anything!” said the Doctor welcomingly.
“Well… after seeing what you did to me…” Robin backtracked. “When I lost my son, my Tommy, I didn’t have my husband to support me like so many people do. Grieving parents grieve together, but I was alone – because he’d died too. But I was lucky. I had this neighbour called Christine who looked out for me and found me a support group for people who were coping with grief on their own.”
The Doctor stopped fiddling with the controls.
“At the support group I met this woman called Jess. Single mother. She’d lost her son when he went to Afghanistan and he was only in his early twenties. I stopped going to the support group after a while and I sunk into a state of really, really nasty depression. But Jess looked out for me. She was someone I could grieve with, but there was never anyone to help her.”
The Doctor nodded, beginning to understand.
“Can you help her?” pleaded Robin. “Just let me take her somewhere. I want to show her there’s more out there.”
The Doctor smiled kindly. “I’ll never refuse someone who wants my help.”
***
“Oh my God!”
Jess was younger than the Doctor had expected; only in her early forties. She had short blonde hair and wore jeans and a t-shirt. Huge rings hung under her eyes.
“Robin!” she exclaimed, still surprised. “I just don’t understand! You… and… this…”
“I’m the Doctor,” said the Doctor in introduction, rushing to the console. “This is my time machine and I’ll answer all questions later. First question I have for you is this – all of time and space; you get one trip. Anywhere you like as long as it’s not backwards or forwards on your own life.” He felt the need to add that condition, this once.
Jess thought about it. “The future,” she decided. “I want to see what the future looks like. How about the next century?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Time’s in flux.” The Doctor spun a dial and kneed the edge of the console. “The Year 2100. I’m being serious. Every single time I go, I see a different reality. There’ve been good ones and bad ones. Sometimes humanity flourishes, sometimes it – well, sometimes it doesn’t. But it’s always dependent on events before it, and those events are always changing. So anything could happen. Anything.” His eyes sparkled and the ship kicked into action.
***
The Doctor stepped out first, taking in the surroundings. They stunk of sewage and burnt metal. Rundown buildings lined the streets and filthy rainwater polluted the roads, splashing onto the Doctor’s trousers as he stepped out. It was day-time, but sporadic grey clouds hung over the city. The windows of the buildings were cracked and smeared, whilst moss crept up the railings of Juliet balconies.
“I really wouldn’t continue, if I were you,” advised the Doctor. “I’m not liking this.”
“I want to see,” insisted Jess. “I have to see.”
“Fair enough,” sighed the Doctor. He removed the cap from his sonic screwdriver to reveal a concealed needle. “Give me your arm.” He gave it a quick nip with the needle. “It’ll immunise you against any diseases. Look at the water – it’s filthy. And you Robin.” Robin obliged.
They stepped up onto the curb, out of the shallow water. The Doctor nosed inside shop-windows, each boarded up. The once-secure gateway to a block of apartments swung loosely open, unoiled as it squeaked this way and that with the wind. They turned a corner.
This street was polluted not with water but people. Small clusters of humans with mud-stained faces and messy, uncut hair huddled together under torn blankets, tossing and turning in discomfort. Intermittent coughs broke the silence. Throaty, aggressive convulsions.
“Planet Earth,” stated the Doctor. “Diseased and dying.” He held up a finger as if checking for wind. “Radiation in the air. Post-war.”
“Oi, you,” interrupted a bald old man with a scar across his cheek. “Are you from the government?” Heads turned. “Have you come to bring us to Peacepoint?”
“N-no,” stammered the Doctor, “I’m just well-dressed.”
“What’s Peacepoint?” whispered Robin.
“I’ve got absolutely no idea,” replied the Doctor.
He noticed a body strewn across the street. The legs hung over the pavement but the body was slung facing downwards into the road, its hair and eyes dunked into the rainwater. The Doctor crouched down.
“Just another one killed by the illness?” suggested Jess.
“No.” The Doctor scanned the body with his sonic screwdriver. He plunged his hand into the water, lifting up the head carefully and examining it. “He was killed by a blow to the head. Tripped on the curve and fell backwards. In fact, I don’t think he was even ill at all.”
“So he was walking through the puddle, tripped on the curve and fell backwards?”
“Except look at the force he fell with. He must have been running from something. Excuse me, you, the one I was talking to a minute ago.” He addressed the old man. “Do you know what this guy was running from?”
The man shrugged. “Everyone was sleeping. I was resting my eyes. I heard some load stomping, when I opened my eyes in the morning, the body was there. There’s always the odd bit of action, ain’t there? We just ignore it, that’s what we do. I’m sure you’d know about ignoring stuff, wouldn’t ya’, being from the government ‘n’ all that.” The Doctor sympathised with the condemnatory remark.
“Well… I suppose I would.” He slipped the sonic back in his pocket and laid the dead man out on the pavement to rest.
A woman beckoned the Doctor from a darkened alley, leading him into the darkness. Rainwater dripped on his head as he followed, and the gentle crackle of electrics sounded from inside the dilapidated buildings. Time had ticked over; possessions outlived their owners. Jess shivered, wishing she’d brought a jumper out with her. She hoped that the injection would make her immune to hypothermia, too.
The alley stopped at a small, sheltered alcove. The floor was covered in foil and a battered storage heater was connected to a covered plug socket in the wall. The woman lit a lamp.
Her face was illuminated now; old and shabby, but not completely unclean. Stands of grey and black hair were combed across her head and at the end of the sleeves on her ill-fitting cardigan were a collection of withered bracelets.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Well…” The Doctor looked around. “Yes.”
“Thought so.” The woman coughed and took a sip of a steaming drink. “I don’t know how you’re ‘ere but I sensed it.” She inhaled, revealing the appalling sound of blocked sinuses. “You don’t belong.”
“Are you a psychic or something?” asked Jess.
“You could say that.” She invited the others to sit down on the foil. “I hear everything. All the whispers.”
“What’s Peacepoint?” enquired the Doctor. The woman grinned enigmatically, barring black and missing teeth.
“Peacepoint’s what keeps us all fighting.”
“Where is it?”
The woman chuckled like a dying smoker. “If I knew that, love, I wouldn’t be here. Look…” She simplified her explanations. “Peacepoint isn’t a place, it’s a state of mind. An idea. A prophecy.” She leaned in. “The whispers started after the war, claiming that we were close to reaching spiritual perfection. Something to conquer physical pain. A state of tranquillity.”
“But you’d still die, wouldn’t you?” queried Jess, just to add some cynicism to the conversation.
“Nothing else would matter.” The woman picked up and chewed at a blackened chicken-leg.
“Utter rubbish,” dismissed the Doctor with just a hint of smarminess. “What’s your name?”
“Megan.”
“Oh, there we go. Mystic Meg, says it all.” He got up. “I’m sorry about what’s happened to you all. I’ll do what I can, but I don’t think your cure is abstract. You all need medicine and I’m the Doctor.”
He left through the alley, Robin following quickly. Jess shot Meg a quick sympathetic smile.
The Doctor held his sonic screwdriver upwards. The faint buzzing resonated along the alley, drowning out the other static sounds.
“What are you doing?” asked Robin.
“I’m separating out the signals. The radiation is interfering but there are other signals being transmitted. A huge amount of energy… there.” He pointed to the top of the steep urban hill. A looming grey block with an eroded red cross protruding from the middle-floor windows watched over the city.
“Is that a hospital?” said Jess, catching up.
The Doctor nodded. “And not just a hospital – everyone in this world is sick. A treatment centre in a dying world? It’s probably a marketplace. Let’s begin the trek.” He pushed himself up the hill. It was steep and the damp floor made it slippery. They passed dozens of bodies; some alive, some dead, and some that were somewhere in between; the minds gone, but an echo of humanity left in a beating heart or a shivering limb.
“It’s not always like this, is it?” asked Jess.
“I said you could go back,” argued the Doctor.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Yes,” answered Robin. “Yes, it’s always like this.” She glared at the Doctor. Why couldn’t he have found Jess a nice beach somewhere? Why did she have to pick the worst place in Earth’s history?
“I’ve been to this year before, like I said,” commented the Doctor. “It’s not always like this. Once, humans had downloaded themselves onto computers and were trapped in a dream-state. Once, they’d all migrated to one of Jupiter’s moons. And another time, it was just like your time, Jess. New music, new styles but a recycled culture. If we turned away now and came back, it would have changed again. This isn’t fate. You’re not seeing the end; you’re seeing one possible beginning.”
Jess took a minute to process that thought.
“But doesn’t that mean… I don’t know, but this is still happening now. This isn’t even the future, right here, it’s the present and you can’t change it. So this is happening. People are suffering.”
“It’s all subjective,” re-joined the Doctor, waving off the philosophy. “But I prefer to be open-minded. It couldn’t all end like this. Not ever.”
***
The hospital was as timeworn as it looked; hardly a sanctuary, let alone a place of healing. The medical staff may as well have been there to look after the building itself. With covered windows and metal doors, there was no way of seeing inside. The Doctor raised his sonic to a passcode panel and buzzed it. The metal door swung open.
A green hue lit the hospital and despite the smell of burning metal, the place was freezing cold. Some empty beds had been casually thrown aside. Futuristic panels and controls marked the walls like light switches. The shape of a circle with a smaller circle was inscribed onto the polished metal floor. An eye with a single tear.
“I really hope I’m wrong about this,” murmured the Doctor. “Mysterious stomping, the easiest world to invade and an eye which can only belong to one thing.”
“What?”
“A Cyberman.”
On queue a Cyberman emerged from behind the wall. The exoskeleton was tighter than the Doctor had remembered and he could imagine a human body, pressed, squeezed and mutilated until it would fit the same dull uniformity as its Cyber-counterparts.
“Get off this planet,” uttered the Doctor. Robin stepped back. She’d never seen him so angry.
“Negative.”
“Are you going to kill me then?” taunted the Doctor. “You usually try.”
“Negative.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that. I’m going to stop you. And I’m going to start now.”
“We possess no weapons.”
The Doctor chuckled. “No weapons? You are joking! No, wait. You don’t do that.” He held up his sonic screwdriver until it was just a yard away from the Cyberman’s head. “Basic lie detector; works on a psychic level. Say it again. Go on.”
“We possess no weapons,” it replied blandly.
“No…” The Doctor furrowed his brow. “No, that’s not right. You always possess weapons! How else do you expect the human race to be converted?”
“They do not need hostile persuasion,” it answered.
The Doctor laughed, genuinely this time. “Enjoy your stay,” he said. “Good luck, because this really is a rubbish plan. Come on, Robin, Jess. We’re leaving.”
***
“What was that thing?” asked Jess.
“A Cyberman.” The Doctor scowled at the hospital. “It’s you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it takes your brain and sticks it inside that metal shell. And it removes your emotions. It takes away everything that makes you who you are, and then you keep on living. Ever wanted to be immortal? Because I’d much rather die.”
Night had fallen and the white glow of streetlamps revealed the molecules of dust and drizzle which swam around them. The hospital was shrouded in mist. A foghorn sounded in the distance.
People sat up, slowly; those who could, half-opening their eyes, their bones creaking. A group of Cybermen appeared at the top off the hill, ascended like pseudo-gods. The hospital emitted a bright green light which enveloped them.
“Where next?” asked the Doctor, adjusting the controls on the console. Robin sat perched on the first step down to the control area.
“There is something I wanted to ask you,” began Robin, summoning up the courage.
“Anything!” said the Doctor welcomingly.
“Well… after seeing what you did to me…” Robin backtracked. “When I lost my son, my Tommy, I didn’t have my husband to support me like so many people do. Grieving parents grieve together, but I was alone – because he’d died too. But I was lucky. I had this neighbour called Christine who looked out for me and found me a support group for people who were coping with grief on their own.”
The Doctor stopped fiddling with the controls.
“At the support group I met this woman called Jess. Single mother. She’d lost her son when he went to Afghanistan and he was only in his early twenties. I stopped going to the support group after a while and I sunk into a state of really, really nasty depression. But Jess looked out for me. She was someone I could grieve with, but there was never anyone to help her.”
The Doctor nodded, beginning to understand.
“Can you help her?” pleaded Robin. “Just let me take her somewhere. I want to show her there’s more out there.”
The Doctor smiled kindly. “I’ll never refuse someone who wants my help.”
***
“Oh my God!”
Jess was younger than the Doctor had expected; only in her early forties. She had short blonde hair and wore jeans and a t-shirt. Huge rings hung under her eyes.
“Robin!” she exclaimed, still surprised. “I just don’t understand! You… and… this…”
“I’m the Doctor,” said the Doctor in introduction, rushing to the console. “This is my time machine and I’ll answer all questions later. First question I have for you is this – all of time and space; you get one trip. Anywhere you like as long as it’s not backwards or forwards on your own life.” He felt the need to add that condition, this once.
Jess thought about it. “The future,” she decided. “I want to see what the future looks like. How about the next century?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Time’s in flux.” The Doctor spun a dial and kneed the edge of the console. “The Year 2100. I’m being serious. Every single time I go, I see a different reality. There’ve been good ones and bad ones. Sometimes humanity flourishes, sometimes it – well, sometimes it doesn’t. But it’s always dependent on events before it, and those events are always changing. So anything could happen. Anything.” His eyes sparkled and the ship kicked into action.
***
The Doctor stepped out first, taking in the surroundings. They stunk of sewage and burnt metal. Rundown buildings lined the streets and filthy rainwater polluted the roads, splashing onto the Doctor’s trousers as he stepped out. It was day-time, but sporadic grey clouds hung over the city. The windows of the buildings were cracked and smeared, whilst moss crept up the railings of Juliet balconies.
“I really wouldn’t continue, if I were you,” advised the Doctor. “I’m not liking this.”
“I want to see,” insisted Jess. “I have to see.”
“Fair enough,” sighed the Doctor. He removed the cap from his sonic screwdriver to reveal a concealed needle. “Give me your arm.” He gave it a quick nip with the needle. “It’ll immunise you against any diseases. Look at the water – it’s filthy. And you Robin.” Robin obliged.
They stepped up onto the curb, out of the shallow water. The Doctor nosed inside shop-windows, each boarded up. The once-secure gateway to a block of apartments swung loosely open, unoiled as it squeaked this way and that with the wind. They turned a corner.
This street was polluted not with water but people. Small clusters of humans with mud-stained faces and messy, uncut hair huddled together under torn blankets, tossing and turning in discomfort. Intermittent coughs broke the silence. Throaty, aggressive convulsions.
“Planet Earth,” stated the Doctor. “Diseased and dying.” He held up a finger as if checking for wind. “Radiation in the air. Post-war.”
“Oi, you,” interrupted a bald old man with a scar across his cheek. “Are you from the government?” Heads turned. “Have you come to bring us to Peacepoint?”
“N-no,” stammered the Doctor, “I’m just well-dressed.”
“What’s Peacepoint?” whispered Robin.
“I’ve got absolutely no idea,” replied the Doctor.
He noticed a body strewn across the street. The legs hung over the pavement but the body was slung facing downwards into the road, its hair and eyes dunked into the rainwater. The Doctor crouched down.
“Just another one killed by the illness?” suggested Jess.
“No.” The Doctor scanned the body with his sonic screwdriver. He plunged his hand into the water, lifting up the head carefully and examining it. “He was killed by a blow to the head. Tripped on the curve and fell backwards. In fact, I don’t think he was even ill at all.”
“So he was walking through the puddle, tripped on the curve and fell backwards?”
“Except look at the force he fell with. He must have been running from something. Excuse me, you, the one I was talking to a minute ago.” He addressed the old man. “Do you know what this guy was running from?”
The man shrugged. “Everyone was sleeping. I was resting my eyes. I heard some load stomping, when I opened my eyes in the morning, the body was there. There’s always the odd bit of action, ain’t there? We just ignore it, that’s what we do. I’m sure you’d know about ignoring stuff, wouldn’t ya’, being from the government ‘n’ all that.” The Doctor sympathised with the condemnatory remark.
“Well… I suppose I would.” He slipped the sonic back in his pocket and laid the dead man out on the pavement to rest.
A woman beckoned the Doctor from a darkened alley, leading him into the darkness. Rainwater dripped on his head as he followed, and the gentle crackle of electrics sounded from inside the dilapidated buildings. Time had ticked over; possessions outlived their owners. Jess shivered, wishing she’d brought a jumper out with her. She hoped that the injection would make her immune to hypothermia, too.
The alley stopped at a small, sheltered alcove. The floor was covered in foil and a battered storage heater was connected to a covered plug socket in the wall. The woman lit a lamp.
Her face was illuminated now; old and shabby, but not completely unclean. Stands of grey and black hair were combed across her head and at the end of the sleeves on her ill-fitting cardigan were a collection of withered bracelets.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“Well…” The Doctor looked around. “Yes.”
“Thought so.” The woman coughed and took a sip of a steaming drink. “I don’t know how you’re ‘ere but I sensed it.” She inhaled, revealing the appalling sound of blocked sinuses. “You don’t belong.”
“Are you a psychic or something?” asked Jess.
“You could say that.” She invited the others to sit down on the foil. “I hear everything. All the whispers.”
“What’s Peacepoint?” enquired the Doctor. The woman grinned enigmatically, barring black and missing teeth.
“Peacepoint’s what keeps us all fighting.”
“Where is it?”
The woman chuckled like a dying smoker. “If I knew that, love, I wouldn’t be here. Look…” She simplified her explanations. “Peacepoint isn’t a place, it’s a state of mind. An idea. A prophecy.” She leaned in. “The whispers started after the war, claiming that we were close to reaching spiritual perfection. Something to conquer physical pain. A state of tranquillity.”
“But you’d still die, wouldn’t you?” queried Jess, just to add some cynicism to the conversation.
“Nothing else would matter.” The woman picked up and chewed at a blackened chicken-leg.
“Utter rubbish,” dismissed the Doctor with just a hint of smarminess. “What’s your name?”
“Megan.”
“Oh, there we go. Mystic Meg, says it all.” He got up. “I’m sorry about what’s happened to you all. I’ll do what I can, but I don’t think your cure is abstract. You all need medicine and I’m the Doctor.”
He left through the alley, Robin following quickly. Jess shot Meg a quick sympathetic smile.
The Doctor held his sonic screwdriver upwards. The faint buzzing resonated along the alley, drowning out the other static sounds.
“What are you doing?” asked Robin.
“I’m separating out the signals. The radiation is interfering but there are other signals being transmitted. A huge amount of energy… there.” He pointed to the top of the steep urban hill. A looming grey block with an eroded red cross protruding from the middle-floor windows watched over the city.
“Is that a hospital?” said Jess, catching up.
The Doctor nodded. “And not just a hospital – everyone in this world is sick. A treatment centre in a dying world? It’s probably a marketplace. Let’s begin the trek.” He pushed himself up the hill. It was steep and the damp floor made it slippery. They passed dozens of bodies; some alive, some dead, and some that were somewhere in between; the minds gone, but an echo of humanity left in a beating heart or a shivering limb.
“It’s not always like this, is it?” asked Jess.
“I said you could go back,” argued the Doctor.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Yes,” answered Robin. “Yes, it’s always like this.” She glared at the Doctor. Why couldn’t he have found Jess a nice beach somewhere? Why did she have to pick the worst place in Earth’s history?
“I’ve been to this year before, like I said,” commented the Doctor. “It’s not always like this. Once, humans had downloaded themselves onto computers and were trapped in a dream-state. Once, they’d all migrated to one of Jupiter’s moons. And another time, it was just like your time, Jess. New music, new styles but a recycled culture. If we turned away now and came back, it would have changed again. This isn’t fate. You’re not seeing the end; you’re seeing one possible beginning.”
Jess took a minute to process that thought.
“But doesn’t that mean… I don’t know, but this is still happening now. This isn’t even the future, right here, it’s the present and you can’t change it. So this is happening. People are suffering.”
“It’s all subjective,” re-joined the Doctor, waving off the philosophy. “But I prefer to be open-minded. It couldn’t all end like this. Not ever.”
***
The hospital was as timeworn as it looked; hardly a sanctuary, let alone a place of healing. The medical staff may as well have been there to look after the building itself. With covered windows and metal doors, there was no way of seeing inside. The Doctor raised his sonic to a passcode panel and buzzed it. The metal door swung open.
A green hue lit the hospital and despite the smell of burning metal, the place was freezing cold. Some empty beds had been casually thrown aside. Futuristic panels and controls marked the walls like light switches. The shape of a circle with a smaller circle was inscribed onto the polished metal floor. An eye with a single tear.
“I really hope I’m wrong about this,” murmured the Doctor. “Mysterious stomping, the easiest world to invade and an eye which can only belong to one thing.”
“What?”
“A Cyberman.”
On queue a Cyberman emerged from behind the wall. The exoskeleton was tighter than the Doctor had remembered and he could imagine a human body, pressed, squeezed and mutilated until it would fit the same dull uniformity as its Cyber-counterparts.
“Get off this planet,” uttered the Doctor. Robin stepped back. She’d never seen him so angry.
“Negative.”
“Are you going to kill me then?” taunted the Doctor. “You usually try.”
“Negative.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that. I’m going to stop you. And I’m going to start now.”
“We possess no weapons.”
The Doctor chuckled. “No weapons? You are joking! No, wait. You don’t do that.” He held up his sonic screwdriver until it was just a yard away from the Cyberman’s head. “Basic lie detector; works on a psychic level. Say it again. Go on.”
“We possess no weapons,” it replied blandly.
“No…” The Doctor furrowed his brow. “No, that’s not right. You always possess weapons! How else do you expect the human race to be converted?”
“They do not need hostile persuasion,” it answered.
The Doctor laughed, genuinely this time. “Enjoy your stay,” he said. “Good luck, because this really is a rubbish plan. Come on, Robin, Jess. We’re leaving.”
***
“What was that thing?” asked Jess.
“A Cyberman.” The Doctor scowled at the hospital. “It’s you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it takes your brain and sticks it inside that metal shell. And it removes your emotions. It takes away everything that makes you who you are, and then you keep on living. Ever wanted to be immortal? Because I’d much rather die.”
Night had fallen and the white glow of streetlamps revealed the molecules of dust and drizzle which swam around them. The hospital was shrouded in mist. A foghorn sounded in the distance.
People sat up, slowly; those who could, half-opening their eyes, their bones creaking. A group of Cybermen appeared at the top off the hill, ascended like pseudo-gods. The hospital emitted a bright green light which enveloped them.
“Humanity,” called one of the Cybermen in a booming voice. The sound was amplified. It rumbled, shaking the ground and rattling the windows. “We promise salvation. Those whispers you hear are true. We have discovered Peacepoint. Join us. We will remove pain. We will remove fear and death and sickness. You will become like us. Suffering will end. The ascension to the next level of humanity will begin.”
People moved, slowly; forcing themselves to their feet. Others pushed themselves along the ground, unable to stand; choking as they fell below the level of the rainwater.
“Stop!” urged the Doctor. “What are you all doing? Stop!”
The hill was a steep climb, especially for the sick. But with their lives in the balance, they summoned the strength. The streetlamps flickered as the first humans at the top of their hill made their way into the gates of the hospital.
“Peacepoint,” said Meg, approaching the Doctor. “I told you so.”
It was a remarkable sight. Remarkably awful; the sick and the infirm in one messy line.
“No one’s stopping them…”
“I knew this day was coming.” Meg retreated.
“This is why I hate the Cybermen,” breathed the Doctor, following behind the line of people. “They’re not death. They’re not the enemy or the opposing side – they’re worse than that. They’re temptation. The temptation to stop and give in. To surrender your soul for the sake of pain relief. They don’t kill. They change. They tempt. They alter and defy. They corrupt.”
“What do we do?” cried Robin.
“We’ve got no choice.” The Doctor gazed up into the mist. “We’ve got to follow. Jess?”
“Yeah.” She attempted to calm herself. “I’m in.”
***
“I’m telling you, stop.” The Doctor switched sides, keeping himself nearest to the road. He glanced at the woman’s son. “Don’t put your son through this. Have you seen what they’re going to do to him? Do you know what they’re doing in there?”
The woman ignored him, pulling her child aggressively towards the hospital. The child turned his frail head and flashed his wide eyes over at the Doctor. The Doctor turned away.
“DON’T SUBMIT!” he cried. “IT’S WHAT THEY WANT!”
A wave of water splashed over Jess’ trousers and in dismay she looked over at the source. Another queue had emerged, this one coming out of the hospital and leading down the central road – a queue of Cybermen; the same height, the same width, standing in the same way and doing and thinking the same thing. One stopped and turned to the Doctor.
“We told you we would not need weapons.”
“Peacepoint.” The Doctor clenched his fist. “You sick liars.”
“Negative.” The Cyberman’s hollow eyes stared back guiltlessly.
“Okay. Okay.” The Doctor slowly fumbled around for his sonic screwdriver and raised it again. “Go on.”
“The Cybermen have discovered Peacepoint.”
The Doctor’s eyes widened. “What on Earth would you mean by that?” he whispered.
“The Cybermen do not intend harm. We have discovered a state of spiritual tranquillity. We have ended suffering. We have done this for the suffering. We have achieved a state of inner peace and enlightenment.”
Jess stepped aside, shaking, and began to move towards the hospital. Robin gasped. She’d joined the queue.
“Jess!” called out Robin. “Jess, come back!”
“I’m sorry,” sobbed Jess. “You knew it was too much for me, Robin… always too much… maybe coming here…” She continued her journey, getting further away, her words quieter and quieter. “…was always meant to happen…”
“JESS!” shrieked Robin, lurching forward, but the Doctor held her back, wrestling with her on the curb. “GET OFF ME! SHE’S MY FRIEND! GET OFF ME!”
“If you try to go in after her they’ll get you too!” urged the Doctor. “Jess has made her choice and you can’t change it!”
“NO!” Robin’s tears fell and joined the stream of rainwater.
“See how those with emotions struggle.” The Cyberman pointed at Jess. “And see how the wise submit.”
“You did this,” breathed the Doctor. “They aren’t your species. You didn’t have the right.”
“Offering resources is commerce.” The Cyberman lowered its arm. “Accepting them is an exercise of free will.”
“That was almost eloquence,” retorted the Doctor. “Eloquence, from the race who drained every drop of creativity from the worlds they shattered. Why come back to me? What else could you possibly want?”
The Cyberman considered, its central processing unit interacting with the brain to generate the most logical response. “Your help.”
***
Robin wiped the tears from eyes, still trying to understand but failing. Failing to understand that her friend was marching off among the dead of the future to have her brain implanted into a metal suit. Failing to understand that the Doctor had let it happen.
“Why the lack of weaponry, then?” The Doctor inspected an empty shelf. “What are you hiding from me?”
“The Cybermen have been conducting research into a far greater experiment,” replied the Cyberman. "We are going to restore emotion.”
“What?” The Doctor laughed in disbelief. “That’s got to be a lie. What’s wrong with you today?”
“We have spent a year on this world and we have observed humanity. Happiness was observed as a strength. We measured that it leads to greater survival and societal cohesion.”
“Since when have you cared about cohesion?”
“Since we cared about survival,” answered the metal man dryly. “Negative emotions cause a breakdown of order. They will be eradicated. We will implant happiness only. Peacepoint will be reached on both a mental and emotional level.”
The Doctor walked over to Robin.
“What do you think?”
Robin looked up. The skin around her eyes was a sore red. “What?” she murmured.
“I want your input,” he whispered gently. “I’m sorry, Robin, but you know emotions better than I do. Should we?”
“Why shouldn’t we?”
“Because it’s cheating.” The Doctor glanced over at the Cyberman. It was probably listening. “Happiness without sadness, it’s… not right. It’s not the way nature works.”
“Maybe happiness is the first step to sadness.”
“Okay.” The Doctor weighed up the pros and cons in his mind, realising they sat equally. He looked back at Robin; at her sad eyes, at her hollowed-out inside. “Okay. I’ll help them.” He reached for his sonic and handed it to Robin. “Hold it down and think of Jess,” he instructed under his breath. “If you’re near, it’ll flash. You’ll be able to detect her because when I inoculated her earlier it formed a weak psychic connection.”
“Thank you.” Robin took the sonic and left quietly.
“Okay. The happiness formula.” The Doctor scanned the room. “Pen and paper?”
***
Robin held up the screwdriver, meandering through the bleak hospital corridors. The windows were blocked up with boards and the only guidance was the moonlight which pierced through the gaps.
The sonic screwdriver had the answer to everything. It could immunise against illness. It could split apart signals and track a source. It could break through security, find people in crowds and even detect if a robot was telling a lie. But it couldn’t do anything important, Robin thought. It couldn’t fix a broken heart or a troubled mind. It couldn’t change the frequency of a ruined life, or detect the source of a run of bad luck. And it certainly couldn’t bring back the dead.
Robin hoped she wouldn’t need to wish for that last one.
***
“There it is.” The Doctor held up the blackboard, throwing away the chalk the Cyberman had given him. A tangled equation that formed together like blocks in the Cyberman’s mind. “The formula for extraction and assimilation. It should restore happiness. Then when you’re happy, come back to me, and I’ll restore all the rest. Mark my words. You’ll need love too, and pain. So.” He rubbed his hands together. “How are you going to start? I’ll have to find you a willing volun-“
“Bring the subject,” instructed the Cyberman. The Doctor frowned. A skinny man with messy hair was pushed into the room. He tripped as he entered but held himself up nonetheless.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“You did not volunteer for the conversion process,” stated the Cyberman.
“Peacepoint? No thanks, I’m happy how I am.”
“Happy?”
“No,” commanded the Doctor with subtle authority. “We do this by the book like I showed you. No cutting any corners.”
The Cyberman ignored the Doctor. “You do not incubate any illness.”
“No I don’t!” confirmed the man. “And I wanna know-“
The Cyberman launched an arm at the man, pinning him up against the wall. He choked some muffled words.
“Stop!” exclaimed the Doctor.
“The extraction process will begin…”
“Of course you didn’t need any weapons.” The Doctor kicked the chalkboard. “The best warriors never do.”
***
Robin watched the conversion units working away. People walked in, their backs sloped and heads to the floor. They sat on the throne-like chair, trying to straighten themselves up in preparation for ascension. An apparatus was lowered and secured itself around their heads.
“Please relax whilst the upgrading process begins,” came a digitally-enhanced female voice like the kind Robin had on her phone back home.
The person’s eyes would close as an electrical current flowed around their head, numbing the mind. Then a gentle smile crept across their faces, and an orange hue filled the chamber. After a few seconds, the smile left and steam filled the glass chamber, blocking them from sight. That was all that Peacepoint was – one brief moment of tranquillity; the space between awareness and emotional depth, where the heart worked on but the worries had diffused off in different directions.
When the steam cleared, there was no longer a person there; just an occupied suit of metal with dull eyes and an emotionless complexion; its back upright, its arms down, and its head and neck positioned perfectly on its torso.
“Next.”
Robin backed away.
“Any sign of Jess?” whispered the Doctor, appearing behind her.
“None.” Robin turned to face him, only making out the glimmer of his eyes in the unlit corridor. “Did you do it?”
“I’m not sure it went to plan,” he murmured. “We need to get back to the TARDIS.”
***
Robin slipped at the bottom of the hill, leaving her knees damp and grubby. She pulled herself up, every muscle aching from the long journey down.
“When will we tell?”
“The Cybermen have a hive mind,” explained the Doctor. “The happiness infusion might happen across the whole hive. We’ll be able to tell.”
The streets were vacant and the streetlamps flickered. The electricity in the buildings continued to tick over, as raindrops trickled through apartment windows, making their homes in damp carpets and shredded curtains.
“You’ve done something, haven’t you?” asked Megan, appearing from behind a corner. “I’ve seen a few of them coming this way. You’ll never contain them.”
There was more stomping and splashing. A Cyberman was walking through the stream.
There was something wrong with this one. Megan spotted it first, keeping her distance. The way it moved, in an unnatural, unnoticeably exaggerated way. And something else, in the black depths of its eye sockets.
It pulled the sharpest spike from a corroded fence and lifted the spike to its face, stabbing itself around the mouth and dragging the spike upwards. It dropped the spike. The Doctor realised what it had done. As it turned to look directly at them, so did Robin and eventually Meg when she peered around the corner. The Doctor’s eyes widened at the impossible thing before him. Robin covered her mouth. Megan’s jaw hit the flaw.
It had carved a smile into its face.
It was a wide smile, like one on a toddler’s drawing. The Cyberman stomped unevenly towards them, feeling the weight of emotion on its shoulders. Meg edged forward.
“So that’s what you did…”
“What can you feel?” enquired the Doctor, addressing the Cyberman. “Tell me what you feel.”
“Must…” the Cyberman answered, robotically. “Must… find… source…”
“Source of what? Oh.” The Doctor clicked his fingers. “Source of happiness. You’ve got to trigger an emotional response! Where to start…”
Interjecting, the Cyberman reached out and latched onto Megan’s hair. Megan screamed. It threw her against a wall, still gripping a handful of her hair, and forced her onto the ground.
“Let go!” she cried. “Let go! You’re hurting me!”
“The source has been found.”
The Cyberman continued to pull at Megan’s hair until a bunch came out, leaving a red patch. Megan screamed out in agony and the Cyberman smashed her around the face with its heavy arm, knocking her unconscious into the stream.
“Stop!” yelled Robin, holding up the sonic screwdriver in defence. “I’ll use this…”
The sonic flashed repeatedly.
“Why’s it doing that?” Robin hit it but it kept flashing.
The Doctor’s heart stopped and he closed his eyes, wishing it could be something else. “Psychic residue from the previous command.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Robin, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The sonic kept flashing as Robin held it forward, illuminating the Cyberman’s body a hellish red.
“Oh God, no…” Robin stepped back. “You can’t be. No. There’s got to be some sort of mistake…”
“Get into the TARDIS,” instructed the Doctor quietly. “Now, Robin. Get into the TARDIS.”
***
“I should have known.” The Doctor leant over his ship’s console. Robin perched on her step. “I gave them happiness but nothing else. No morality, no kindness, no compassion.” He scowled at himself. “They became sadistic.”
“And you’re just going to leave?” uttered Robin, a lump in her throat.
“No.” The Doctor pulled a lever. “The thing about alternate times is that the events change but the buildings stay in the same place.” He typed something into the keyboard. “We’re going somewhere important.”
International Control Station 15
The intermittent flashing of the red warning-light lit up the dim, chilly room. The Doctor rubbed his hands together, feeling himself shiver. Yet it was the cold that seemed the most desirable option – the Doctor understood that what he was about to do would be enough to make anyone ill.
“There is the policy of containment,” came the muffled voice from the inter-com. The inter-com functioned as a translator, turning obscure Eastern languages into a monotonous British drone. “The area could be removed from the world. We could build walls-“
“This isn’t Chernobyl,” interrupted the Doctor with a sigh. “It’s not fair that we keep this up. You know the protocols. You know what to do about threats to national security.”
“Yes. We know.”
“Good.” The Doctor exhaled quietly.
“We kill them all.”
“You can’t kill them!” argued Robin. “They’re humans.”
“Exactly. Don’t you see? They’re kind, decent humans, and together me and the Cybermen turned them into monsters. What sort of legacy is that?” He pointed at the CCTV cameras on the screen. Cybermen marched along the pathways.
“You infused happiness,” started Robin. “What if you infused something else? Hacked into that hive thing?”
“I could try it.” He checked the room. “There’s enough equipment here. I could use the TARDIS to tune myself into the network.”
Robin silently helped the Doctor as he made trips in and out of the TARDIS, taking out wires and bits of machinery and connecting them to the military paraphernalia. The hive was easy enough to access – as the Doctor pointed out; the Cybermen didn’t come to Earth expecting resistance. They’d finished within under half an hour, by which time the Doctor was strapped to the wall with wires attached to different parts of his body.
“Robin, you can switch it on.”
Robin found the switch and flicked it slowly, making a wish for Jess.
The Doctor shuddered, coughing and lurching forward. The straps held him in place, as predicted. The screens shut off; the intercom buzzed and sparked, and the room grew warmer. The transfer stopped and they were plunged into total darkness.
Slowly, lights came back on, but dimmer and bluer than before. The image of the street flashed up again, but this time the rainwater was deeper and oilier and the Cybermen drifted along it like weightless leaves in a river.
“You killed them.”
“They killed themselves. I didn’t think it would work for a minute.”
“What do you mean?” retorted Robin, feeling a surge of anger.
“The second I infused compassion, I stimulated regret. They saw what they did and they chose to end it.” He turned off the screen. “Peacepoint. They went back to it. Look at their spirits now. Resting.” He strolled over to the TARDIS, finding his key and opening the door. “They got there in the end.”
***
“Bring her back,” sobbed Robin, standing over the console.
“I can’t,” said the Doctor, avoiding eye contact.
“You took me back to see Tommy. Take me back to see her too. Let me talk to-“
“No,” breathed the Doctor. “She’s gone. I’m sorry. I can’t change it.”
“You didn’t even know her!” exclaimed Robin. “Jesus, you barely even spoke to her! You didn’t know a thing about her. I asked you for help and you killed her.”
“I gave her the option-“
“Oh, shut up!” yelled Robin. “Do you ever understand how we work?” The Doctor looked up, confused. “You knew there could be a risk and you still let her go. She lost her son. Do you know what that feels like? And then you took a gamble like this! Couldn’t you have found her a nice beach somewhere? Couldn’t you have just lied?”
“I…” The Doctor looked for the words. “Robin, I’m so… I’m so sorry…”
Robin moved away from him, feeling the same cold indifference she’d felt to that first Cyberman she met, and the same unbearable regret she’d felt when she realised what had happened to her best friend.
“I don’t ever want to see you again,” she sniffed. “Take me home.”
The Doctor did as instructed, piloting the TARDIS carefully enough to avoid a single judder. It was the least he could do.
“Robin,” he called desperately as Robin opened the door. “Robin…”
“Make me a promise,” she said, looking away from the Doctor. “One last promise.”
“Anything.”
“Never let anyone travel with you again.”
The Doctor swallowed. “I… promise.”
Robin left and shut the door, letting the tears stream down her cheeks at last. The Doctor closed his eyes again, trying to imagine Robin back into the room. He hated the cavernous quiet of his ship these days.
He walked over to the viewing area, staring into the gloomy darkness of the TARDIS.
***
“Robin!” Jordan beamed. “How are you?”
“Glass of your finest, Jordan,” whispered Robin.
“Are you sure?”
Robin nodded.
“Has something happened?” Jordan poured the glass and handed it to Robin over the bar. Robin took the glass and took a few sips, trying to clear her mind. But her thoughts were cracked, the shape of that drawn-on smile fracturing all of them. The smile would fracture her dreams, too, and eventually her whole world, as that pseudo-happiness haunted her whole existence.
She kept sipping, ordering refills and drinking them too. She kept drinking, just as she promised herself, until her mind cleared those thoughts away. She drank until her vision blurred and her senses faded away, and until she’d forgotten that smile, her best friend. And, best of all, forgotten the Doctor.
“I can’t,” said the Doctor, avoiding eye contact.
“You took me back to see Tommy. Take me back to see her too. Let me talk to-“
“No,” breathed the Doctor. “She’s gone. I’m sorry. I can’t change it.”
“You didn’t even know her!” exclaimed Robin. “Jesus, you barely even spoke to her! You didn’t know a thing about her. I asked you for help and you killed her.”
“I gave her the option-“
“Oh, shut up!” yelled Robin. “Do you ever understand how we work?” The Doctor looked up, confused. “You knew there could be a risk and you still let her go. She lost her son. Do you know what that feels like? And then you took a gamble like this! Couldn’t you have found her a nice beach somewhere? Couldn’t you have just lied?”
“I…” The Doctor looked for the words. “Robin, I’m so… I’m so sorry…”
Robin moved away from him, feeling the same cold indifference she’d felt to that first Cyberman she met, and the same unbearable regret she’d felt when she realised what had happened to her best friend.
“I don’t ever want to see you again,” she sniffed. “Take me home.”
The Doctor did as instructed, piloting the TARDIS carefully enough to avoid a single judder. It was the least he could do.
“Robin,” he called desperately as Robin opened the door. “Robin…”
“Make me a promise,” she said, looking away from the Doctor. “One last promise.”
“Anything.”
“Never let anyone travel with you again.”
The Doctor swallowed. “I… promise.”
Robin left and shut the door, letting the tears stream down her cheeks at last. The Doctor closed his eyes again, trying to imagine Robin back into the room. He hated the cavernous quiet of his ship these days.
He walked over to the viewing area, staring into the gloomy darkness of the TARDIS.
***
“Robin!” Jordan beamed. “How are you?”
“Glass of your finest, Jordan,” whispered Robin.
“Are you sure?”
Robin nodded.
“Has something happened?” Jordan poured the glass and handed it to Robin over the bar. Robin took the glass and took a few sips, trying to clear her mind. But her thoughts were cracked, the shape of that drawn-on smile fracturing all of them. The smile would fracture her dreams, too, and eventually her whole world, as that pseudo-happiness haunted her whole existence.
She kept sipping, ordering refills and drinking them too. She kept drinking, just as she promised herself, until her mind cleared those thoughts away. She drank until her vision blurred and her senses faded away, and until she’d forgotten that smile, her best friend. And, best of all, forgotten the Doctor.
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Next Time
Earthstop
A national crisis brings the Doctor back to Earth, as the planet stops turning. Something has changed in the universe, and a criminal ex-psychologist seems to hold all the answers... Episode list: 1. The Time Museum 2. The Adulteress and Her Doctor 3. Peacepoint 4. Earthstop 5. Sunset Forever 6. The Planet Makers 7. Who Watches The Watchmen? 8. The Anger Games 9. Extinction 10. The Quest Through Time 11. A Village Called Nothing 12. Bigger on the Inside 13. Extermination of the Daleks |