Doctor Who - The 8th Doctor - 37 - The Burning by Justin Richards

Author:Justin Richards
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, General, Science Fiction, Great Britain, Adventure, Doctor Who (Fictitious Character), Fiction, Tin Mines and Mining
ISBN: 9780563538127
Publisher: BBC Pubns
Published: 2000-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

The Doctor stepped back towards him and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘It is almost over now,’ he said quietly. ‘I promise you that. One way or another, things are almost done.’

The tradesman’s entrance was unlocked. They let themselves in and stood for a moment in the gloom. The sun struggled with limited success to illuminate the house through misted windows.

The Doctor led the way in silence to the back staircase. Stobbold recalled Dobbs’s description of the events of several nights previously. He felt a pang of fear – but no twinge of conscience – as they made their way up to the landing.

That was good, he decided. Feeling. He was feeling again.

And more than anything, he realised, he was feeling angry. He did not rile easily, rarely lost his temper, but inside he could feel the raw emotion swelling up, ready to burst once given an outlet.

‘Let’s start in here,’ the Doctor whispered and led Stobbold into a room at the top of the stairs.

The room was lined with display cases and cabinets. The Doctor closed the door quietly behind them and led Stobbold to a case on the far side of the room.

‘These are the copies,’ he said keeping his voice low. ‘Made from the reforming material, from the stuff Nepath and Urton have been mining.’

‘This stuff is alive?’ Stobbold hissed. He peered into the cabinet, saw the various ornaments and figures. Some he recognised as religious figures and icons from his studies of the Eastern religions. At the back of the case stood Kali, swords raised, fire dancing round the figure’s head. He blinked as one of the arms seemed to move slightly – a trick of the misty light. Or of the moisture in his eyes.

‘It is not life in the sense that you or I understand it,’ the Doctor explained.

‘Some sort of sentience, I’m sure. Nepath wants something from it and the substance is content to be used by him. For now. Until it gets what it wants.’

‘Which is?

The Doctor shrugged, turning away from the cabinet. ‘What does any living thing want?’ he asked.

‘Hope?’ Stobbold suggested. ‘Salvation? To believe in something, to have faith?’

‘To survive,’ the Doctor said.

Stobbold took a look back into the cabinet as he considered this. In that instant he saw the sword arm of Kali swipe down through the air as the figure 143

took a lurching step forwards. Stobbold gave a cry of surprise and took a step backwards. The Doctor turned quickly at the sound.

The glass door of the cabinet shattered under the sword blow, sending a shower of glass slivers biting across Stobbold’s face. He cried out again, hands raised to ward off the hailstorm.

When he looked, when he hesitantly lowered his hands, he saw that the statue was dissolving. The features were melting and running down the face, down the body. Like a candle burning away, rivulets of the materials were running down the sides and pooling at the feet. The other relics and artefacts were doing the same – melting into viscous steaming pools of liquid.

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