in the wall had ground almost fully open. Golden light spilled into the chamber through the pentagonal entrance.
‘Quiet, Pol!’ Ben hissed, grabbing hold of her and turning her away from the gory sight.
‘Quickly,’ the Doctor rapped, cutting Polly off in mid-yell. ‘Back to the TARDIS!’
Ben tried to manhandle Polly, still clutching her space helmet, into the police box. But something was wrong. She wouldn’t shift. ‘Come on girl, pick your feet up,’ he urged her, fighting down the panic rising inside him.
‘I can’t move, Ben,’ Polly cried. ‘I want to, but I can’t!’
Ben felt his head start to spin, and a noise like rushing water in his ears. He left Polly and turned round to call for the Doctor to help him. The light shining through the doorway lit up the glass that housed the bloody figures. The Doctor was silhouetted against the glow. Slowly, awkwardly, he took a few steps towards Ben.
Ben turned back to Polly and found she’d vanished.
He gaped. ‘Doctor? Polly, she’s just… gone.’
‘Impossible, my boy,’ the Doctor said weakly, as he removed his own space helmet and placed it on the ground. ‘She can’t just have disappeared. We merely did not see her leave.’
‘What’s the difference? She’s gone!’ Ben felt stricken. The roaring noise became thicker in his ears. ‘And a few seconds ago she couldn’t move anywhere!’
But even as he spoke, the noise in Ben’s ears ebbed away, as did the dizziness. The Doctor fell into Ben’s arms suddenly like a puppet with cut strings. Ben sagged a little under his weight, but the Doctor soon recovered; Ben imagined the furious look the old man gave him was designed to cover his embarrassment at collapsing. A moment or so later his expression softened, and he looked at Ben with evident concern. Then he turned to face the open doorway, shielding Ben behind him.
A burly figure walked out of the light, dressed in a dark grey military uniform, holding a box in one hand and a dirty great gun in the other. The gory display case was between them for a few moments, then the figure moved into plain view, looking around cautiously.
‘Stone me,’ Ben muttered. ‘It’s a bird!’
The woman looked in their direction and froze. Light glinted off a sort of metal band she wore round her forehead.
‘She’s seen us,’ murmured the Doctor. He took a step forward, his hands going automatically to where his lapels would’ve been beneath his suit and floundering as they tried to grip the quilted fabric. ‘Madam,’ he began, ‘forgive me, I do hope our presence here doesn’t come at an unpropitious time?’
The woman stared at them in absolute shock for a moment.
Then she raised her gun.
II
Polly stared about fearfully. It was dark. Cold. One minute she’d been with Ben and the Doctor, and the next…
It all seemed a blur. She’d wanted to get away, so desperately, wanted to run headlong from the opening door in the wall. She’d had a feeling of flight, of disorientating movement, and then found herself here, all on her own. The fishbowl-like space helmet rocked gently on the ground at her feet.
It was a cave or something, deep underground. She’d gone to some caves once, nice and safe touristy caves, when she was eight. She’d run about the place in a bright red raincoat pretending she was a lost damsel, that there was no one else down there with her except for dragons. Except then, when she strayed too far from the crowd, when the fantasy became too scary, there was a daddy to rush back to, grown-up hands to hold. Now she was on her own. Not even with any dragons. Definitely no dragons, she told herself.
And kept telling herself.
There was only one thing to do, she knew that. To strike out on her own down these dark tunnels. To try and work out a route back to Ben and the Doctor. She could mark the walls with her lipstick… No, she was wearing this ridiculous spacesuit, no pockets. She could maybe chalk arrows on the wall? No
‘Quiet, Pol!’ Ben hissed, grabbing hold of her and turning her away from the gory sight.
‘Quickly,’ the Doctor rapped, cutting Polly off in mid-yell. ‘Back to the TARDIS!’
Ben tried to manhandle Polly, still clutching her space helmet, into the police box. But something was wrong. She wouldn’t shift. ‘Come on girl, pick your feet up,’ he urged her, fighting down the panic rising inside him.
‘I can’t move, Ben,’ Polly cried. ‘I want to, but I can’t!’
Ben felt his head start to spin, and a noise like rushing water in his ears. He left Polly and turned round to call for the Doctor to help him. The light shining through the doorway lit up the glass that housed the bloody figures. The Doctor was silhouetted against the glow. Slowly, awkwardly, he took a few steps towards Ben.
Ben turned back to Polly and found she’d vanished.
He gaped. ‘Doctor? Polly, she’s just… gone.’
‘Impossible, my boy,’ the Doctor said weakly, as he removed his own space helmet and placed it on the ground. ‘She can’t just have disappeared. We merely did not see her leave.’
‘What’s the difference? She’s gone!’ Ben felt stricken. The roaring noise became thicker in his ears. ‘And a few seconds ago she couldn’t move anywhere!’
But even as he spoke, the noise in Ben’s ears ebbed away, as did the dizziness. The Doctor fell into Ben’s arms suddenly like a puppet with cut strings. Ben sagged a little under his weight, but the Doctor soon recovered; Ben imagined the furious look the old man gave him was designed to cover his embarrassment at collapsing. A moment or so later his expression softened, and he looked at Ben with evident concern. Then he turned to face the open doorway, shielding Ben behind him.
A burly figure walked out of the light, dressed in a dark grey military uniform, holding a box in one hand and a dirty great gun in the other. The gory display case was between them for a few moments, then the figure moved into plain view, looking around cautiously.
‘Stone me,’ Ben muttered. ‘It’s a bird!’
The woman looked in their direction and froze. Light glinted off a sort of metal band she wore round her forehead.
‘She’s seen us,’ murmured the Doctor. He took a step forward, his hands going automatically to where his lapels would’ve been beneath his suit and floundering as they tried to grip the quilted fabric. ‘Madam,’ he began, ‘forgive me, I do hope our presence here doesn’t come at an unpropitious time?’
The woman stared at them in absolute shock for a moment.
Then she raised her gun.
II
Polly stared about fearfully. It was dark. Cold. One minute she’d been with Ben and the Doctor, and the next…
It all seemed a blur. She’d wanted to get away, so desperately, wanted to run headlong from the opening door in the wall. She’d had a feeling of flight, of disorientating movement, and then found herself here, all on her own. The fishbowl-like space helmet rocked gently on the ground at her feet.
It was a cave or something, deep underground. She’d gone to some caves once, nice and safe touristy caves, when she was eight. She’d run about the place in a bright red raincoat pretending she was a lost damsel, that there was no one else down there with her except for dragons. Except then, when she strayed too far from the crowd, when the fantasy became too scary, there was a daddy to rush back to, grown-up hands to hold. Now she was on her own. Not even with any dragons. Definitely no dragons, she told herself.
And kept telling herself.
There was only one thing to do, she knew that. To strike out on her own down these dark tunnels. To try and work out a route back to Ben and the Doctor. She could mark the walls with her lipstick… No, she was wearing this ridiculous spacesuit, no pockets. She could maybe chalk arrows on the wall? No
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