Doctor Who_ Wonderland - Mark Chadbourn [34]
'There's no sign of Mathilda anywhere,' Ben said. 'The word among the Diggers is that she'll turn up before the end ... make a grand entrance to do her big spell.'
'That may very well be too late,' the Doctor said.
Before we could decide our next step, several things happened in quick succession. First, there was a commotion in the crowd nearby. My heart began to pound. 'It's started,' I said.
But it hadn't, not quite. A psychedelic light show appeared to be moving through the massed ranks, raising a wave of astonished cries and admiring whoops as if it were part of the event. The Doctor stood firm, his face cold. Polly gripped Ben's arm in apprehension.
From among the cheering crowd staggered a young man, his face bearing the same blank expression as the one who had presented the robot head to the Doctor. But the light that was flashing everywhere was pouring out of him, seeping in reds and greens, yellows and blues, from every opening in his body, his nose, his eyes, his ears, as if he were bleeding colours.
There was something transcendental about it, but horrific too; it looked like he was dying. He raised his arms wide, like Christ on the cross, and then – and even now I don't know if this was just an illusion caused by the shimmering light – he floated an inch or two off the ground, his head falling back beatifically, his mouth lolling, the light becoming a fountain of delight soaring into the bright sky.
Within seconds we felt violent tremors run through the earth beneath our feet, so much so that it was hard to stand, yet no one else in the vicinity appeared to be affected. The ground itself was bubbling as if it were liquid beneath the floating man's feet, boiling, rushing upward and out. And then he was sinking into the space that lay beneath; down, down, except he wasn't. Somehow he also remained floating. It was a bizarre sight that beat any trip I'd ever been on.
Just as quickly, it was over. Those far-out lights winked out like someone had thrown a switch. The guy hit the ground gently – or maybe he'd never left it – and looked around in a daze before running off into the crowd with cheers at his heels. We didn't try to follow him.
There was a long period of silence while we attempted to make sense of what happened, and then the Doctor said simply and quietly, 'Remarkable.'
We had no time to react. Ben suddenly stabbed out a pointing finger. Away in the crowd, Mathilda walked haughtily and, I thought, with contempt for those around her, dispensing smiles and cold, withering stares with equal disinterest. Her masked crew surrounded her so that she seemed the queen of all she surveyed.
One of them was handing out something to the people he passed from a large plastic bag. I felt cold and sick: here it was.
'Let's go,' Ben said. He started to push his way through the packed bodies.
But then something caught my eye and the rest of the world fell away. It was nothing, the merest glimmer; the shape of a head, or the curve of a neck, there then gone in a split-second. Nothing at all; but everything. A glacial chill spread through me, followed by the most intense heat.
Ben or Polly was saying something to me, but I didn't hear, no longer knew they were there. I was pushing away from them, drifting into the sea of dancing, tripping figures. Bodies pressed against me, hands touched my hair, my arms; a crazy whirl floating on the edge of my consciousness. What had I seen that set me so on edge?
The sheer, heaving mass of the Human Be-In was in my every sense. Was the hallucinogenic intensity of it turning my mind? Moving faster, shoving people aside, running, the Doctor, the Blue Moonbeams, the
Colour-Beast all forgotten.
I remember the Grateful Dead playing 'Morning Dew,' a surge of emotion like a tidal wave. I remember the sun and the sky and the feeling of rising up and coming together.
From among the swell of bodies, a mask in African tribal