Doctor Who_ The Stealers Of Dreams Part 9

Domnic, in the meantime, had returned to the group to find Nat. Poor, sweet Nat. Seventeen years old and so nervous, approaching each new story with trepidation, always feeling that she was doing something terribly wrong. Domnic had had to talk her out of leaving a few times. She'd stayed because she said a love story made her feel sort of liquid inside. She had written one once and had wept as she read it out loud. She hadn't read Domnic's stories, because she said they were too violent. She had been scared of ending up like Manda.

When she and Domnic had kissed, that one time, he hadn't been sure if she had been kissing him or some idealised image of the male romantic hero.

The doctors had Nat now. They would make her feel like a criminal, when she had done no harm to anybody. Even if she was released from the Big White House, he knew he'd never see her again.

And then there was Rose, and she'd been everything Domnic had ever wanted or wanted to be: bright, enthusiastic, confident. She had thrown herself into fiction in a way that Nat would never have dared, taking the good but leaving the bad, letting it energise her but not control her. Unlike Mad Mand, she had still known what was real. She had balanced both worlds, and made it look easy. Until now.

Until, to Domnic's horror and dismay, Rose Tyler had fallen to pieces before his eyes. Until she had started to swing a plank of wood at thin air and to shout at nothing. And she had that wild, frightened look in her eyes as they flicked from side to side, looking for imaginary terrors everywhere.

She was fantasy crazy. The news channels had been right all along. And all those other women... For the first time, Domnic really understood what it was they had been so scared of.

He tried to tell Rose there was nothing there, that the yard was empty, but she wasn't listening. He took her by the arm and made to guide her away, but she shrugged him off. Then she whirled round and her face lit up with relief. And she cried out a single word: 'Doctor!'

She made for the metal staircase behind them coming back for Domnic when she realised he was watching, dumbfounded. She took his hand and dragged him up the stairs after her, but came up short as if there was something in their path. 'No,' she warned, 'don't touch it!' And she stared around with those wild eyes again.

The stairs bent back on themselves, and Rose climbed onto the handrail and jumped for the one above. She caught it and pulled herself nimbly up and over. She turned to reach for Domnic and cried his name in alarm as she saw that he had taken the easy way round. Her face clouded with confusion, just for a moment.

'OK, Doctor,' she called, 'we're coming!'

She shouldered open the door into the building. They barged through a small, untidy storeroom and into an office area, where a primlooking woman leaped up from her desk and demanded to know who they were. 'No time to explain,' said Rose, 'just get out of here. Get everyone out! There are zombies behind us!' And then she was gone, leaving Domnic to mutter an embarra.s.sed apology as he hurried after her.

He caught up with her downstairs, in a short pa.s.sageway from which several doors led, presumably into more offices.

She clutched at him in desperation. 'Where'd he go? Did you see where he went?'

'Who?'

'The Doctor!'

'I didn't see any doctor.'

'How d'you think we got out of there? He was up on the stairs. He used the sonic screwdriver, and he... I don't know, he confused the zombies or something.'

'I didn't see any... zombies.' Zombies?

'You been walking around with your eyes shut?'

'I mean there were were no zombies. You imagined them.' And it was all his fault. His comic strip. He'd planted those images in Rose's mind. no zombies. You imagined them.' And it was all his fault. His comic strip. He'd planted those images in Rose's mind.

She looked incredulous. 'You heard them. You said.'

'I heard the cops. I thought they were following us. But it was fiction, Rose.' He was shaking her, as if he could shake her back to reality. 'Don't you see? There were no cops. There are no zombies, no doctor...'

He thought he'd been getting through to her, but now she broke away from him.

'The Doctor isn't fiction. What are you doing? Why're you trying to confuse me? I can't think straight.'

'OK,' said Domnic, 'OK, you're under treatment, I get it. So tell me where. Tell me where this doctor's practice is and we'll go there. We'll get help.'

'I don't know where,' insisted Rose. 'He was here, but he's gone.'

'He wasn't here. I didn't see him.'

'The TARDIS. I can show you his TARDIS. It's out in the jungle. C'mon, you'll believe me then. The TARDIS, it's the Doctor's s.h.i.+p.'

'His s.h.i.+p? Then who was that "Captain Jack" guy?' s.h.i.+p? Then who was that "Captain Jack" guy?'

'The Doctor travels in time. He fights monsters. There were these shopwindow dummies that were alive and they were going to kill me, and the Doctor was there, and we've been to the past and the future and...'

'Listen to yourself, Rose. Does this sound right? Does it sound like fact?' Had he been like this last night? Was this how he had seemed to her? He'd always told himself he could handle it, but now...

'They were real, Domnic. I could smell them, like rotting fruit. I even felt a chill from the one on the stairs as I climbed past it.'

'Forget about the zombies, Rose. I... I've seen this sort of thing on TV. They give you advice. They say you should... You should focus on something real, something you believe in.'

'The Doctor.'

'Not him. Your home. Your family. Just think about them, nothing else. Or... or something like... that table over there. That table's real, Rose. You can see it, I can see it. Concentrate on the table.'

'Home!' said Rose. She was rummaging in her pockets. 'I can phone home. I can talk to Mum. She'll know. She'll tell you. And she's met the Doctor. I can prove it to you. I can prove he's real.'

'What on earth is is that?' asked Domnic as Rose produced a boxy device, not dissimilar to a TV remote control. that?' asked Domnic as Rose produced a boxy device, not dissimilar to a TV remote control.

'It's my mobile. My... er, vidphone. Without the "vid".'

'It's the size of a brick!'

'Wait till you see what it can do.'

She pressed a couple of keys, then held the phone up so that they could both hear the ring tone on the other end of the line. It repeated eight times before it was cut off by a crackle and a tired, husky, irritable voice: 'Yeah?' 'Yeah?'

'Mum, it's me.'

A long silence.

'Rose? Rose, what're you... Where Where are you? D'you know what time it is?' are you? D'you know what time it is?'

Rose was grinning, almost in tears. 'Mum, I don't know what day day it is there.' it is there.'

'Did he bring you home? Tell me he's brought you home.'

'Mum, listen...'

'Though if he did, I s'pose I'd be the last to know. Cardiff, Rose. It's only up the motorway. You could've given me a call.'

'I can give you a call from anywhere. From here.'

'I saw Mickey. What've you done to that poor boy, Rose? I mean, I mightn't have had much time for him before, but all he's been through for you.'

'I know. Mum...'

The grin had frozen into a grimace. Rose pressed the phone to her ear so that Domnic could no longer hear the other side of her conversation. For the next minute or so she just listened impatiently and occasionally tried to break in.

At last, she said, 'It's just... I needed to hear your voice... No, Mum, there's nothing wrong... Look, I've gotta go... Yeah, yeah, soon, I promise. Bye, Mum.'

And she cut off the connection and stared at the phone gla.s.syeyed.

Domnic felt he ought to say something, but the more time pa.s.sed the harder it got. Finally, clumsily, he asked, 'This Mickey... is he your boyfriend?'

'Not any more,' sighed Rose. She took a deep, steadying breath. 'I know what's real now, Domnic. Mum's real. Mickey's real. The zombies they weren't real. I can see that now, but at the time...'

'And this doctor?'

'The realest thing I've ever known. And you're right, we've gotta find him but he's not at some practice and I'm not going running back to the TARDIS. The hotel! We should go back to the hotel.'

Domnic felt a tingle in his spine as they crossed the hotel lobby. They ran into a cleaner outside the lifts and he half expected him to raise the alarm, but he pa.s.sed them by without a glance. Last night, this building had been alive with shadows and threats, but they had been fiction. Today, the same corridors, the same rooms, were dingy and mundane.

'You know, this world had a name once,' he said.

'Yeah?'

'It was called Discovery because that's what it was to the pioneers. Something new, something special. I'd love to have lived back then, when life was an adventure. Now it's just a way of getting from birth to death.'

In Rose's room they found a note she had written to the Doctor, untouched. There was no sign that he'd been here.

'What if they got to him too?' she asked worriedly. 'What if they managed to drive him him crazy? I'm serious, Domnic. Whatever's behind this... If anyone's gonna find the monsters, it's him, and if they've caught him...' crazy? I'm serious, Domnic. Whatever's behind this... If anyone's gonna find the monsters, it's him, and if they've caught him...'

'Something real, Rose,' urged Domnic. 'Focus!'

'The Doctor's real,' she muttered to herself fiercely.

He'd turned on the TV and was fiddling with the tuning controls again.

'D'you think that's a good idea?' asked Rose.

'Hal Gryden will know what to do,' said Domnic. 'He'll make things clearer.'

'...Hal Gryden...' said the TV, like an echo.

'Is that it?' asked Rose. 'Is that Static?'

'I don't think...' Domnic was looking at a familiar newsreader and a channel ident that read '8 News'. But he hadn't imagined what he had just heard... had he?

drama plays in which the police are portrayed as inflexible, corrupt monsters with a hidden agenda. The c.u.mulative effect of exposure to such fiction He grabbed the remote control and flicked through the official channels.

' man is dangerous. His description is unknown '

' changes his appearance '

' Gryden ''

This couldn't be happening. His heart was beating against his chest.

' station is a huge undertaking and somebody must know '

' must be apprehended for all our '

' Hal '

' outbreaks of violence, ranging from '

' urge our viewers not to listen to this man's lies '

'What's going on?' asked Rose.

Domnic had to swallow before he could answer. He couldn't believe it. He could hardly find the words. He's done it. He... he's made the news. Hal Gryden's made the news!'

'So? I thought everyone knew about him already.'

'Yeah, of course... of course. But don't you see? It's official now. All these years, the police and the media have been ignoring him, pretending that Static didn't exist, when everyone knew... Well, look now, Rose. Look what's happening. Hal Gryden is on every single channel.'

Rose was just beginning to understand. She came to kneel beside Domnic, hypnotised as he was by the TV screen.

'I get it. They thought he'd go away if they didn't tell anyone about him.'

'But it didn't work. Word spread anyway, and he only got stronger.'

'So now they can't ignore him any more.'

'They've brought him out into the open. They've made him real.'

'So they can fight him.'

Domnic stared at Rose, stunned by this simple truth that he hadn't quite grasped for himself. A fight. Of course that was what this was. Hadn't Hal Gryden said as much? He'd said it was time to 'overthrow this police state... dream all the things they won't let us dream about'.

There were b.u.t.terflies in Domnic's stomach. He felt the way he had the first time he saw Static: as if the future was no longer an unchanging road but an exciting and a terrifying place all at once. There were images cras.h.i.+ng into his mind of freedom, of choices, of adventure. Of anarchy and of blood in the streets. He told himself to resist them. He focused on what was real, what he believed in.

Find Static. Find Hal Gryden. Find the truth.

He hardly noticed when Rose slipped out of the room. 'Bathroom,' she explained.

It was only a ghost image at first, but as Domnic finessed the controls, it came suddenly, sharply into focus. Two figures, young men like himself, sitting on a sofa facing the screen. It was clearly Static: the lack of a channel ident said as much, as did the fact that the actors were wearing black balaclavas so as not to be recognised. Domnic knew the programme; it was one of Gryden's most popular. It belonged to an ancient genre known as the 'situation comedy', but it had been brought bang up to date as a subtle but wicked satire on the influence of the media. It was called Viewing Figures Viewing Figures.

'Isn't it funny,' commented the figure on the left, commented the figure on the left, 'how on TV you only see the police when they're arresting dangerous criminals. You never see them pus.h.i.+ng people down the stairs and then shooting them dead because they don't like the look of their face, and then munching on a doughnut, like we all know they do all the time.' 'how on TV you only see the police when they're arresting dangerous criminals. You never see them pus.h.i.+ng people down the stairs and then shooting them dead because they don't like the look of their face, and then munching on a doughnut, like we all know they do all the time.'

The remark was greeted by hysterical fake laughter from an unseen audience.

'I hadn't noticed that,' said the second figure. said the second figure. 'Guess that's because I'm a brainwashed zombie.' 'Guess that's because I'm a brainwashed zombie.'