Doctor Who_ Wetworld - Mark Michalowski [58]
‘And their memories are fading quickly,’ the Doctor sighed. ‘Human brain chemistry’s obviously more resilient than the otters’. And let’s face it, if I wasn’t able to get anything out of what happened to me, what chance have these poor people?’
Suddenly, Martha’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Hang on!’ she whispered. ‘You said that hypnosis would be too intrusive, yeah?’
The Doctor looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Go on. . . ’
Martha narrowed her eyes.
‘Tell me I’m wrong, that I haven’t
grasped how the psychic paper works, but couldn’t you –’
‘Yes!’ The Doctor leaped up and almost punched the air. Martha almost fell over. ‘Why didn’t I think of that? Martha Jones, you just keep getting better and better!’
‘Does that mean I get TARDIS driving lessons?’
‘Don’t push it,’ he said, grinning. ‘But I might show you how to change the spare wheel. C’mon!’
‘Just take a few deep breaths,’ said the Doctor to Marj. ‘Let yourself relax. . . that’s it. . . Now: look at this piece of paper. Try to think about what you were doing, what you were carrying, back there at the settlement. Tell me what you see.’ Martha watched Marj closely, saw the puzzlement on her face –
puzzlement that was suddenly replaced by incredulity.
‘How. . . ’ she began. ‘That’s. . .
that’s. . . ’ She tipped her head
slightly, as if the angle of whatever she was seeing was wrong.
‘That’s. . . it looks like some sort of circuit, doesn’t it? An electronic circuit.’ She looked up at the Doctor and Martha. ‘Is that right?’
The Doctor whipped the psychic paper back into his pocket and grinned.
‘Oh yes, Marj. That’s so right. Now, you have a nice sleep. You’ll feel much better when you wake up. Believe me.’
Marj smiled gently, nodded, and lay back on the bed. Within seconds, she was asleep.
‘Wow!’ Even Martha was impressed. ‘Does that help, though?’
‘Oh yes – and I’ve only just started. Care to accompany me on my rounds?’
It took less than half an hour. Of the six settlers they’d brought back, only one was unable to remember anything. The others, to varying degrees, responded well to the psychic paper, letting it gently draw out the buried memories of what the slime creature had commanded of them, what they’d been told to fetch, where they’d been told to take it. To Martha, none of the individual bits and pieces meant much, but the Doctor was getting more and more excited.
When the last of the rescuees was sleeping soundly, he let out a quietly triumphant ‘ Yes! ’
‘And?’
‘Slimey-boy out there is making something – building something.’
‘Like what?’
‘Something big and chunky. A bit like me,’ he said, ‘only with added electronics.’
‘They’re building a fruit machine?’ grinned Martha.
‘Oh, please,’ the Doctor said, his mouth downcast. ‘One of those dance-step machines at the very least. Still, I’ll let it all stew in the Doctor-o-tronic for a while.’ He tapped his head. ‘We’ll have a look at baby slimey. Maybe that’ll supply the missing bits.’
∗ ∗ ∗ The zoo lab was deserted: Ty had left a note pinned to the cage in which she’d placed the wicker sphere containing the baby slimey: Gone to find Candy – thought you’d like the honour of checking out Junior. Love, Ty. xx
‘So,’ said Martha as the Doctor popped his glasses on and set about cutting through the otters’ handiwork to the thing that flopped inside.
‘This Ty. What’s she like, then?’
He didn’t look up.
‘Ty? Oh, she’s nice.’
‘Oh,’ said Martha. ‘How old is she?’
‘Mmm, dunno really. Best ask her.’ He pulled a face as he snipped through more of the twigs and grass, opening up a circular hole at the top. ‘Why?’
‘Just wondering, really. Seems quite a mother-figure, doesn’t she?’
‘Does she?’
‘Older than my mum, I reckon.’
‘Yeah?’ The Doctor turned the ball in his hands, jiggling it to shake the thing inside out into a plastic bowl.
‘At least,’ Martha said, watching his face.
‘Gotcha!’ he cried as the thing plopped out. He tossed the ball away into a corner.