Doctor Who_ All-Consuming Fire - Andy Lane [111]
'You see,' the Doctor said, turning to me, 'how the truth becomes distorted and woven into the legend? Azathoth must have floated around in the vortex for billennia before managing to find a gap and manifest itself corporeally on somebody's home planet. It was always the weakest of the Great Old Ones, according to legend.'
'They went out into the universe in their star-spanning craft to spread the gospel of Azathoth,' Sherringford went on, 'but the unbelievers took arms against them. There was a jihad, a holy war. Azathoth, in Her infinite mercy, would not lay waste to the forces of darkness, and was vanquished.
They wanted to kill Her - as if a God could be killed! - but they were too weak and divided, and banished Her to this cold, hard world with the most faithful of her followers.'
'For which,' the Doctor murmured, 'read "Azathoth tried to spread her religion around a bit via a sophisticated sort of mind control, and got stomped on".'
'It's a bit hard on the inhabitants of Ry'leh,' I said. 'Having a god dumped in their laps.'
'Inhabitants?' the Doctor asked.
'His lot,' I said, pointing to K'tcar'ch. 'The ones with five legs.'
'The Shlangii?' He shook his head. 'No, they don't live here. The Shlangii are the most feared mercenaries in the known universe. I presume that a couple of garrisons of them were stationed on Ry'leh to stop Azathoth escaping. They are notoriously unreceptive to new ideas, which makes them ideal choices to guard a creature with a natty line in mass hypnosis.
Unfortunately, it looks as if Azathoth has managed to convert a substantial number of them. I knew that it reminded me of something back in Holborn, but I couldn't remember what.'
Sherringford had been following our conversation.
'Alas,' he said, 'the remainder have taken steps to prevent themselves hearing the message. Some form of surgery I believe. Poor, misguided creatures. If only they knew the glories that they have blinded themselves to.'
'So they're not peaceful philosophers?' I asked, just to make sure. He just laughed.
'That's why they were attacking Maupertuis's men,' the Doctor said. 'They must have thought that Maupertuis had come to rescue Azathoth.'
'Which, of course, he had,' said Sherringford. 'Although he did not know it.
But we tarry too long. It is time that you heard the Word yourselves.'
Holmes was staring at his brother's hands.
'I have been wondering ever since we met in the Library why my brother has been wearing gloves,' he said suddenly. 'An affectation, I thought, or perhaps a disfiguring skin disease. I noticed then that his nails had not been cut for some time - the material of the gloves was stretched to a point in an unmistakable way - but it has just struck me that his nails are considerably longer now than they were in the Library. Longer than they could feasibly have grown in that time.'
'The Mark of Azathoth,' the Doctor said quietly.
Sherringford raised his right hand.
'Our stigmata,' he said, flexing his fingers. Something seemed to ripple beneath the glove, which suddenly split along the seam. Scarlet flesh swelled out, revealing fingers that were clawed, pebbled and veined with black. Scraps of white material fluttered to the wooden floor of the caravan.
'Such a relief,' he sighed. 'I have been trying to hold this back for weeks.'
His shoulders began to swell.
'Dealing with pagans and unbelievers, I have been forced to retain this debased guise, hiding any changes beneath by clothes, but now I can allow my transubstantiation full rein.'
We were all backing away from Sherringford now. Holmes was horror-struck. He held out his hands towards his brother in a