Doctor Who_ The Sleep of Reason - Martin Day [86]
He dropped the phone on to the passenger seat, concentrating on his driving as he approached the car park.
Moments later, as he stepped out of the car, his mind was once more overcome with troubles and concerns. He did not see the misshapen animal emerge from the shadows behind him.
The creature turned its head to watch him, suppressing a low and hungry growl deep in its throat.
Laska and Fitz had driven back to the Retreat in near silence. Fitz seemed to scowl every time he had to brake suddenly, his silence the product of physical pain. Laska’s pain was internalised and personal. Was she merely the latest in a long line of people from her family to find themselves locked up at the Retreat, and at Mausolus House before that? Had her father, unknowingly or wittingly, perpetuated another family tradition in making the financial arrangements for Laska to stay there?
Now they stood before Liz and Dr Smith like scouts returning from a mission, breathlessly reporting their encounter with the great hound, the discovery within the documents that they had returned with.
‘And you did not see this creature when you came back?’ asked Smith.
Fitz shook his head. ‘Thankfully, no.’
157
‘Maybe it’s happy to let people in, but not out,’ said Trix. ‘The more the merrier.’
‘You could be right,’ said Smith. ‘As long as word does not get out, as long as the authorities aren’t called. . . It’s confident that it can deal with those of us trapped here.’
‘“Deal with”?’ queried Liz. ‘What is this creature? What does it have planned for us?’
‘The creature is but a pawn of our true enemy,’ said Smith. ‘It lacks sufficient self-awareness and mental strength to be able to fight back. Indeed, from your description, Fitz, it’s probably only the alien influence that’s keeping it alive at the moment.’
‘It’s the dog from the diary?’ queried Laska. ‘The one the doctor owned?’
Smith shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. But something of it may have survived, and now lives within a new host.’
‘A parasite,’ said Fitz confidently.
‘Perhaps,’ said Smith. ‘What survived from 1903 lives now in some other animal, some poor beast that was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s now part of a hybrid entity that does the bidding of a greater force And the influence of that evil is spreading, seeking to infect, to influence, to dominate higher forms of life as well. Thus the murder, the suicide. . . We must stay calm!’ he suddenly exclaimed in a loud voice, making Laska jump.
‘This force, this influence, will seek out negative emotions, will try to cause discord. “Made mighty by madness”, remember?’ He turned to Liz. ‘What does it want with us? Nothing more than our lives and our sanity.’
‘Does this. . . influence have a name?’ said Laska.
Smith did not answer immediately, but looked around the room as if sensing the dissonance in the very atmosphere of the canteen. ‘In the universe,’ he announced at length, ‘are myriad creatures and intelligences. Life has taken on a multiplicity of forms, shapes and sizes. . . Numerous ways of procreating, numerous life cycles.’
‘Life cycles?’ queried Liz.
Smith nodded. ‘What we’re witnessing is the reproductive cycle of creatures. . . alien creatures. . . known as the Sholem-Luz.’
He’d taken care of the telephone lines hours ago. Now it was time to finish the job. It only took a few seconds to cut through the wires. One bundle, sheathed in colourful, protective plastic, gave power to the sprinkler systems; a little further over were the wires that operated the security and fire alarms.
Skill was needed to avoid tripping the failsafe systems into life, but the man knew exactly what he was doing.
Snip. Snip. Snip. Job done.
158
What he couldn’t work out was why he was cutting through the wires in the first place.
‘The Sholem-Luz are creatures of legend,’ said Smith. As he spoke the lights seemed to dim a little, but moments later they were burning as bright and strong as before. ‘Actually, they