Haunted Series One
Episode Five
Reawakening of the Cybermen
Written by the Genie
Foreword – by the Genie
Re-posting this one, I realise how far I've come. These are the early days of my prose and they're full of flaws, slightly uninspired and often overdramatic dialogue or description. Nevertheless, elements of later, 'proper' Haunted are beginning to emerge that weren't so present in other episodes - the emphasis on ordinary, human lives with Lynda's deliberately mundane existence being played on for effect, and Olivia facing the consequences of returning home.
But the most remarkable thing about Reawakening of the Cybermen, and what it's remembered for by most readers looking back today, is that it told the story of Death in Heaven two years before it was written. The tale tells of Cybermen converting our dead, but also a retelling of Doomsday, a more fulfilling battle between two mighty forces and aspects of the Doctor Who mythos. It's here too that the similarities between Haunted and the Doctor Who episodes which followed it over the next couple of years really start to become visible, which in some ways takes away from the originality of Haunted, but in others shows that, although the storytelling itself could be polished up, the ideas were definitely there in Series One, perhaps even at their strongest.
Reawakening of the Cybermen
“SCANNER INDICATES HIGH-FREQUENCY COMMUNICATIONS. INTERCEPT! INTERCEPT!”
The Strategist glided over to the control panel and did as instructed.
“COMMUNICATIONS INTERCEPTED. OBSERVE!”
A blue hologram flashed up in the centre of the circle. The entire Dalek parliament fixed their eyes on the projection; their cold, emotionless eyes, all attentively staring at the screen, waiting for something to happen. Suddenly, something flashed up. It was a Cyberman – its voice robotic and passive; without the anger or ambition that the Daleks conveyed. But there was something proud about its intonation. A tone of victory.
“Cyber-Communications One to Cyber-Communications Five. Do you receive?” Then a pause; waiting for a response, which the Daleks gathered had been received when it continued. “Permission granted to activate the anti-matter wave. Proceed imminently.”
The Daleks broke out into turmoil. It didn’t happen often. They were a species of regulation, waiting obediently for instructions, or news, or consent – but not this time. A hall of screaming voices and representatives trying unsuccessfully to keep order.
“DALEK PARLIAMENT SHIP WILL BE RE-LOCATED. PANIC WILL CEASE; A NEW PLAN WILL BE FORMULATED TO-“
A wave passed over the parliament, wiping out everything in its path, as if God himself had leant down and blown gently over them. Everything it passed simply vanished, leaving in its space nothing – no light, no dark, no sound, no stars, no time – nothing. The areas it covered were simply erased. There was no explosion. Just an incontrollable commotion, and then…
Silence.
“Results confirmed. The war is over. Record date: Alpha C2, 001. A new location has been decided for Cyber expansion. Destination: Earth.”
***
Lynda Harris stood in her house in Farnham. She packed her children’s lunches. Marmite sandwich, a banana and a penguin for Lewis. Marmite sandwich, a banana and a penguin for Sally. Peanut butter sandwich, a banana and a penguin for Liam because he didn’t like marmite, which was annoying, because Matthew’s mum, Emily, always made marmite sandwiches when they went over there, and always had to make a different sandwich for Liam, which was embarrassing for Lynda. Why should her kids be fussy when Matthew always ate whatever they gave him? Why was it that they always left crumbs all over the table whereas Matthew ate his sandwich over the plate, with the crusts, because he wanted curly hair when he was older?
“Have you got your schoolbooks, Lewis?”
“Yes, mummy.”
“Have you got your schoolbooks, Sally?”
“Yes, mummy.”
“Have you got your schoolbooks, Liam?” No response. “Liam? I said, have you got your schoolbooks?”
Still no response. She sighed. She started up the stairs, entering into Liam’s room, ignoring the ‘Liam Only’ sign on the door, and saw Liam laying on the bed; his mien forlorn, his bottom lip curled, his eyes staring intently at the wall, and his hands fisted.
“Liam, come on! Get ready for school!”
“I don’t want to get ready,” he replied; quiet and solemn.
“And why’s that?”
“Because I’m ill.”
Lynda followed the usual routine. She got the thermometer, placed it under his tongue, and pulled it out again when it blipped.
“See?” she showed him the thermometer. “You’re fine.”
“But I don’t feel well. I’ve got a headache and a tummy ache.”
“Liam…” she sat on the bed, brushing his hair affectionately as she spoke to him softly. “What’s the matter really?”
“They’re still bullying me,” he answered. He’d given in quickly. He just wanted to make sure he had her attention.
Lynda groaned. She’s spoken to the school about it already, but they never did anything. Too busy with stupid Ofsted. She opened her mouth, about to comfort him, but then the phone rang.
“Sorry Liam, I’ll be back in a minute.”
She dashed into the bedroom and lifted the phone off of its holder, quickly pressing the green button lest it did its usual and went to voicemail just as she got to it. She dialled 1471.
“Hello?”
“Lynda?” It was Emily’s voice, but uncertain and spooked, unlike her usual nonchalant and collected self.
“Hi Emily, what’s up? I’m just getting the kids to school.”
“Me too. But I think you should know this. I woke up in the night and saw something out of the window. I didn’t think anything of it because I was only half-awake, but now I’ve realised that it’s actually really weird, and I know for sure that I saw it, because I asked Alison, you know; not flower Alison, neighbour Alison, and she reckons she saw it too, no kidding, cuz’ she has insomnia, you know, after the rabbit incident, so she was wide awake, on Facebook-“
“Yeah, anyway,” said Lynda, rushing her on, “what did you see?”
“Your mother. Walking along the street. And I know it was her for sure because she even had the limp-“
Lynda slammed down the phone. Some kind of sick joke; it must’ve been. But from Emily?
She thought back to that gloomy October afternoon. The second-worst day of her life. She remembered it well; lowering the coffin into the ground, not being able to read the eulogy properly because of her shaking hands – it was the day of her mother’s funeral. And it was two whole years ago.
***
“Where did you go?” asked Alex. It had been an hour since she’d turned up and she’d had to leave the room in surprise. Olivia had approached her in the locker room, and explained everything. How she’d met the Doctor in Shanghai and how she hadn’t meant to be nearly ten years. It had all been a very bad coincidence, she said. But according to the Doctor, she had to stay now – and she couldn’t go back and change anything. 'A part of events'.
“I went to Moscow, in the far future,” Olivia begun. “Time had changed. I watched it change back before my eyes.” She pictured the fluctuating landscape; the billions of histories flashing by in seconds. “It was beautiful,” she said humbly, with awe in her voice. “But terrible.” She winced from memory of the horror. “A million futures, all flitting before me like pages of a book…”
“Did you think about me?” asked Alex, indignantly. “Did you think about us back home?”
“Honestly? No, not really. I wasn’t gone long – not for me. And it was all so amazing. We went to Victorian London-“
“Your mother nearly killed herself,” Alex abruptly interjected. “We all thought you were dead. She had no one. Of course, I had no one too, but, you know, you don’t think about yourself when there’s a heartbroken woman to look after. A woman who’s just lost the love of her life. And then her daughter walks out on her!”
In anger, Alex swung her arm at a shelf, and knocked a dozen glasses to the floor. Olivia stepped back, threatened.
“It wasn’t my fault, I swear. I was going to come back-“
“You know the worst part? You were enjoying yourself. Not worrying about your poor mum back home! You could have died, there. Valiantly risking your life for the Doctor – you don’t see the damage you cause back home, you stupid girl! I thought we were friends. You didn’t even tell me you were going! So I came back here – back to London – and I joined UNIT. Thought maybe I’d be able to find you. Turns out you were out, gallivanting, with Mr. bloody E.T!”
As Olivia opened her mouth to start talking again, Alex’s coms device sounded.
“Alex,” came Kate Stewart’s muffled voice, “I need you in the interview room now. We’ve got a woman who’s just seen her dead mother. Could be a big case, but she’s quite stressed out.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Alex turned to leave, not even acknowledging Olivia’s presence. After all, she hadn’t acknowledged hers when it mattered.
“Alex, I-“
She slammed the door, and Olivia was left, mid-sentence, suddenly wishing more than ever that she could turn back time.
***
“Lynda Harris,” said Kate, “she said she’s found CCTV footage of Margaret Hatton, her dead mother walking past her friend’s house. The police referred us again. I’ve gone to check the footage. When you’re ready.”
Alex entered the interview room; her eyesight adjusting to the darkened hue of the room. She sat opposite Lynda.
Lynda was an average-looking middle-aged woman. Not unattractive, but not glamorous either; long but not particularly stylish blonde hair, a tired, slightly nervous disposition, and some simple office clothes were about all that could be observed. She wasn’t exactly the target of an alien assassin or anything as sinister as that.
“Good morning, Mrs Harris,” she said formally, “my name’s Alex Paige, I’m the team leader of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce Special Operations team. I assume you’ve spoken to the police?”
“Yes, I have. But they, err, redirected me to you. Why did they do that, do you know?” She had a faint Geordie accent, which sometimes came through as she got more confident.
“Well, I’d imagine they were out of their depth. They usually are.” She got out her notepad and pulled a pen from her top pocket. She then tied back her frizzy black hair and started jotting down notes. “So, I hear your mother’s been seen walking. Is this definite?”
“Yes. There’s a, um, search party out at the moment. The CCTV has got her on there – it’s definitely her.”
“Mrs Harris, if you wouldn’t mind, could you please explain to me the exact nature of your mother’s death?”
“She had Alzheimer’s disease.” The woman bit her nail, trying to unnoticeably wipe a tear from her eye as she did so, but Alex detected it, keeping quiet nonetheless. “I watched her get worse until she didn’t even know my name. Her own daughter. I went to see her one last time after she died – I saw the body. Then I watched it lowered into the ground.”
“When was your mother buried?”
“Two years ago.”
“Where?”
“Farnham, where I live. West Street cemetery.”
“Has the grave been checked?”
“Yes, and they found that the ground had been dug up. The coffin was raised up and the body was gone. But I thought she’d have started to, um, decompose now?”
“Possibly, though nowhere near completely. Has anything unusual happened in the area you live?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Was there anything suspicious surrounding the circumstances of your mother’s death?”
“No, like I said.”
Alex was so sharp pressing her questions; so quick. It was as if she had a computer working in her mind, narrowing down the options. She pulled her coms device off of her jacket and spoke into it. “Ma’am,” she said courteously. “Would we be able to have a search through all recent documents of Farnham – in particular, West Street Cemetery? Thanks.” She got up, opened the door, and beckoned Lynda to follow her out. “Tea?” she asked. “Biscuits?”
“Oh, I thought you’d never ask.”
***
“We’ve sent an extra search party out to help the police,” said Alex. “We’re going to find out what happened to your mother as quick as we possibly can. We’re not the police. We’re working with you, and we mean that. Always with you. And we all care. I used to live in Farnham, actually. My brother is buried in that very graveyard.”
They were now doing as Alex had promised; sitting in the canteen, Alex with a cup of very strong tea, and Lynda with a coffee and a packet of ginger biscuits. She dipped one in the coffee, but her hand was still trembling, and half of the biscuit fell into the tree. She picked up a teaspoon, and, as the conversation continued, persisted in trying to recover the broken biscuit.
“What are you then? What do you do?” Lynda was so intrigued. Alex liked that. Intrigue showed attentiveness. Attentiveness showed care.
“We deal with the strange and the alien. The unexplained. The unexplainable.”
“A bit like the X-Files, then?” chuckled Lynda.
“Better.”
Lynda’s smile faded and she stared down at the table dejectedly. “Do you think there’s a chance…?”
“A chance that your mother is still alive?” interpolated Alex. “Yes. There’s always a chance. But never, ever get your hopes up. It’s a cruel world that we live in, Mrs Harris. I learnt that the hard way.”
Kate burst in through the door and approached Alex. Everyone else in the canteen turned around at the noise of Kate’s rapid breathing; she’d been running.
“Alex, we’ve looked back at records of Farnham, and there was something. A meteorite that crash-landed and embedded itself just next to West Street Cemetery a hundred years ago. Also…” catching her breath, she looked warily at Lynda, as if wondering whether or not to speak in front of her. “We’ve found Margaret Hatton’s body. Lynda, we’re going to need you to identify it. I’m sorry. This isn’t going to be easy…”
***
Lynda stood outside of the room breathless. She couldn’t believe what she’d seen. What they’d done to her mother. What she had become. Alex approached her sympathetically.
“Mrs Harris… I’m very, very sorry to have to push questions like this. But our investigation has taken a step forward. We need to know for sure. Was that your mother’s body?”
“Yes,” mouthed Lynda through her tears. “W-what have they done to her?”
“It’s hard to say,” said Alex, hopelessly but still reassuringly. “But I promise you that we’ll get to the bottom of this. We’ve got our head scientific advisor working on it now. The Doctor.” She seemed to spit those last two words.
“The Doctor? Doctor Who?”
***
“How remarkable...” commented the Doctor, examining the body. She was just an ordinary old woman; wrinkly, short, curly grey hair... but she’d been dead two years, despite looking like she’d only passed away a matter of hours ago. Yet the Doctor spoke so matter-of-factly about it. There seemed to be no sympathy there. It was all so professional.
There was something, however, completely unusual about the body. Her face was half-covered in a metallic mask, which crept down her cheek like weeds down an unkempt wall. The Doctor had seen it before. Those plant-like robotics. It was the Cybermen.
“Let’s say…” began the Doctor, “that the Cybermen crash-landed, inside that meteorite, a hundred years ago. But the meteorite embedded itself into the ground, and it wasn’t an accidental crash. It was purposeful.”
“You can have a purposeful crash?” asked Kate.
“Of course. It’s like a landing, but not so comfy. And the ship implants itself into the earth around it. And it grows – because that’s what the Cybermen have learnt, that’s their new discovery; robotic growth. It forms a number of tunnels underneath West Street cemetery. And of course, the Cybermen want to invade, don’t they? That’s their ultimate plan; upgrade the universe. But they can’t, because their numbers are few, and those there are are damaged. So they extend their tunnels further and reach the coffins. And no one sees, because no one digs up the dead. This happens for a century. More and more of the dead are converted. The Cybernetics sustain life; frozen, if you like. But in the case of Margaret Hatton, the upgrade begins to reverse after a couple of years. This induces consciousness. The Cyberman, with all its strength, climbs out of her tomb. She walks the streets. Now, the upgrade is nearly completely reversed. But she’s not human; she wasn’t alive. As soon as the Cyberman has gone, there’s nothing. And thus she dies on the street, and that’s where we find her.”
“If they’ve been doing that for the past 100 years –“ continued Kate “- and that’s saying they have – how many Cybermen are we talking? And what are they doing? Waiting to rise from their graves? How strong will they be?”
The Doctor looked solemn. Very solemn indeed. Solemner than she’d ever seen him.
“If the Cybermen are running out of power to fully upgrade, then they’re going to wake the army. That’s going to be around a hundred Cybermen. Yes, they’re infinitely dangerous. But at a push, we could deal with that.”
“Then what are you so scared of?”
“The Cybermen have spent the last thousand years waging an interstellar war with another species. And I’m almost certain that if the Cybermen are here, so are the other species. Earth will become a battleground for history’s most gruesome war.”
Suddenly, the doors to the research lab burst open, and in came an army of metal warriors. They stomped in with uniformity and cold ambition; their hollow eyes lacking any humanity, or compassion, or mercy. They froze on the spot awaiting their next command. You could see something inside. The shape of a body. Once they were us.
“Doctor…” Kate looked around anxiously. “What is the other species?”
“Daleks.”
“You belong to us. You will be like us.”
The Cybermen stood row on row. They crowded the corridors. They covered all available exits. The Doctor, Luke, Kate, Phillip, Alex and Lynda were all surrounded. Some were better-versed than others, but they were all aware of the basic facts: they had lost.
A guard tried to strike a Cyberman unexpected with his gun, but the cyborg knocked it aside with its arm, and with the other arm, smashed the guard in the face. He fell to the floor with a thud.
“Do not attempt to resist. This base is now under Cyber-control. This will be the centre of all upgrades. You will be upgraded.”
“Don’t try anything clever,” whispered the Doctor to the group, “unless you are absolutely sure. If you make a mistake, they will kill you. The last time I fought the Cybermen, they claimed that their next upgrade would be unstoppable.”
Phillip protested. “Nothing is unstoppable.”
A Cyberman turned to face them. It stomped over. The group edged backwards in fear. It had been listening.
“All upgrades were designed based on observations on human emotion. We understand your weaknesses. We have adapted ourselves to combat any and all threats posed to us. We are unstoppable.”
Lynda could hardly believe what she was seeing. She covered her mouth with her hands to prevent herself from crying out. Everyone else there had been so used to spending their lives submerged in aliens that they’d forgotten what being a normal person was like. Luke was shaking too, but he stepped forward. He’d faced the Sontarans, the Judoon, the Trickster himself... the Cybermen could hardly be worse than all of them put together, could they?
“How will you upgrade us from here?” he asked. “There’s no technology here to upgrade people with.”
“Luke, don’t…” The Doctor’s voice couldn’t be heard over Luke’s own terrified breaths.
“What are you going to do? Hand us each a few suits?”
The Cyberman stood thoughtfully for a moment, as if considering his suggestion. Then it grabbed him by the throat. He struggled, but the Cyberman fastened its grip. Out of its eyes came some long strips of wriggly metal, like insects; mites – Cybermites. They sped down its arm and entered Luke’s mouth. All the Doctor could do was stand by and watch hopelessly as his old friend was converted. The Cyberman let go and Luke fell to the floor.
The Doctor was pulsating in anger. He stepped forward. Everyone behind him suddenly became unnerved. The Cybermen – they were nothing compared to this. He emitted a smell of scorching iron and he glared at the Cyberman with fury and resentment.
“He asked you a question,” he growled, suddenly getting louder; “YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO KILL HIM!”
All Cyber units turned to the Doctor, and he suddenly realised what a mistake he had made.
“Resistance will not be tolerated.”
The Doctor was fast. He whipped his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and aimed it at the cyborg. A blue holographic light shone over it, holding it back for a minute.
“Upgrade in progress,” returned its deep, robotic voice.
A spark flew off the screwdriver as the Cyberman walked into the blue light. The Doctor tried again, but it had fried the circuits.
All the Cybermen circled around him, their slivery arms getting closer and closer, and the Doctor stood in silence, utterly helpless…
The Doctor closed his eyes, preparing to embrace death. He waited. Had he died? Everything was silent. He might open his eyes. But dare he? Dare he peak at the mysteries of death? What if he had been converted?
He slightly opened one eyelid, and closed it again. Then it occurred to him what he had just seen. How was that possible? He opened the other eyelid until both eyes were gazing at the sight in front of him.
The Cybermen had all turned away, and were staring at the exits. And through the glass, the Doctor could just about make something out. Sunlight. But no ordinary sunlight – an ice-blue sunlight that could only mean an alien world. This was followed by a voice – one which was far too recognisable…
“I’ve moved you; sorry for the inconvenience. But, you know, everything just seemed so picturesque here, and I thought; well, a full Cyber fleet won’t want to miss this! And then, I thought…”
The Doctor looked to his right where the voice was coming from and instantly recognised its owner. A young man, with sleek blonde hair and a devilish smile – but he wasn’t a man at all. He was the enigmatic Time Lord; the Hitchhiker.
“…the Doctor certainly won’t want to miss this either.”
“Hitchhiker…” everyone looked around, faintly remembering echoes of dark implications that the Doctor had mentioned relating to that word. “What have you done?”
“BORED AGAIN!” He chuckled insanely as he merrily bounced back, hitting a Cyberman. It didn’t alarm him. “Boys – take them away!”
The Cybermen slammed the Doctor, Alex, Olivia, Phillip, Kate and Lynda into a storage room at the end of the corridor. There weren’t any windows, so the Doctor couldn’t further deduce where they had moved to. There weren’t even any proper seats – just boxes, one on top of the other, and mossy brick walls.
“Tell me everything,” said Alex. “Everything you know about the Hitchhiker and the Cybermen and… everything.”
At first, there was an awkward silence, but as all eyes were on the Doctor, he had no choice but to cooperate.
“The Cybermen wanted to amalgamate. They wanted to assimilate Dalek technology with their own. But the Daleks had visions of universal supremacy, and, in their twisted ideologies, everything remotely ‘un-Dalek’ was wrong. And the Cybermen had been converting other species; humans, Rublerfellians, Castellions – so therefore, the Daleks perceived them as utterly immoral. They wouldn’t go ahead with the assimilation. So the Cybermen registered them as reject stock.” He stretched his arms out, and clicked his fingers together, sighing a sigh of tiredness. “There were days when one Dalek could have taken out a whole fleet. But the Cybermen had upgraded a million times since then, and it was an equal match. So this intergalactic war raged. 1000 years of stalemate. Obviously, the Cybermen had the upper hand, because look at them now. If there are Cybermen, there is one thing guaranteed. The Daleks will be here too. And the Hitchhiker – I know nothing about him. Not a peep. His timeline is reversed to mine. All I know is that he’s a complete nut-job – he was ready to kill me and thus endanger his own personal timeline. Any Time Lord with that will is dangerous – scarily dangerous.”
“Which is why I locked you up, Doctor!”
The Doctor turned like clockwork at the insane voice of the Hitchhiker.
“What do you want?”
“Oh, you know… just-“
The Doctor had had enough of the Hitchhiker’s teasing deception. In anger, he grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and held him up against the wall. Everyone else was terrified. The Hitchhiker seemed to find it amusing.
“Tell me now,” panted the Doctor, the Hitchhiker trembling in his firm grip, “have you been following me? Is it you? Are you the shadow in the corner, eh? Everywhere I go?”
“I swear,” wheezed the man, “I know nothing about what you are talking about. But I can tell you about my metal mates in there, if you want.”
The Doctor released his grip, and the Hitchhiker fell to floor. He shrugged it off. He was used to being battered and grazed. Most of the time, he’d asked for it. He began his story:
“I’m presuming that this is just after the TARDIS incident, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll remember that I did a little vanishing act.” This sentence was followed by a vain chuckle. “The Cybermen found me. Their ship had picked up on the TARDIS. They were looking for a new Cyber-Planner to be in control of all Cyber-war operations. I told them – I promised them – that, if they kept me alive, and did as I said, that I could find them you. The oldest, most knowledgeable being in the universe – you could be theirs. I led them here to you. They’ve transported the entire UNIT base into a parallel universe so that they can isolate you – thanks to technology I borrowed from your TARDIS I suppose you could say… you made this world.”
While the Doctor was talking with the Hitchhiker, concurrently, Alex comforted Lynda...
“What is it, then? A parallel universe? Even with my technology, that must have taken some mighty engineering.”
“It’s not a parallel universe, exactly. More of a pocket universe. It’s the biggest battleground for the Cyber-Dalek war. The entire Dalek armada and the Cyber fleets will all be gathering here. Every Dalek and every Cyberman in the whole entire universe. The biggest battle since the Last Great Time War.”
“Couldn’t you just blow up the planet?” suggested Olivia, so heartlessly that she even surprised herself.
“Oh…” the Hitchhiker turned taunting to face her. “You’ve been learning from the Doctor. Genocide – that’s his style. You know it, too. I can see it in your eyes. I can read you…”
“ANSWER HER QUESTION!” roared the Doctor. The Hitchhiker didn’t get scared or persist to answer. He simply laughed. A cruel, pretentious, knowing laugh. “What is it? What do you know?”
“This pocket universe was created from our own.” The Hitchhiker’s smile vanished. Just for a moment – there was fear there. “You’d have to destroy the whole pocket universe. In doing so, the echo of the explosion would obliterate the Earth in the process. You’d kill all life on the planet.”
The Doctor considered what the Hitchhiker had said. “What are we going to do, then?”
“You? You can do what you like.” The Hitchhiker resumed his usual jokiness and nonchalance. “Me, though? I’m going to continue with the plan. The Cybermen will take you all for upgrading. Then, when I’m out of the way, I’ll blow it up. And you, Doctor; you’ll be watching. Through your cold, silver eyes. The Earth will be obliterated – and you won’t even shed a tear.”
The Hitchhiker left the room, and the Doctor was left, despairing. After five minutes of miserable silence, a group of Cybermen entered, and escorted them outside. Kate was first for upgrading. The Cyberman forced her into a white chamber, and from there, nothing more was seen of her. Then Olivia, then Alex. And they all entered, remembering Luke Smith, and all the others who had fallen victim to the Hitchhiker’s perverse transactions. Finally, the Doctor was carted off, to be converted to the new Cyber-planner, and to welcome a new age of steel.
***
The Dalek spaceship clamped its legs into the surface of the planet. They were so heavy; like drills burrowing down into the planet’s core, causing the ground above to tremble and welcome the majesty of the Daleks. The ramp dropped down, and soon, floods of the metal monsters were flooding out like ants, but ready to seek out all life in the universe and end it.
The horizon was a morbid one. A lifeless, dusty, rocky surface, covered only by craters and jagged peaks. In the sky: nothing. Just darkness. The end of that tiny pocket universe – they were staring into nothingness, and nothingness stared back at them.
The Cyber armada could just about be identified in the distance: a blurry mass of grey seeming to slowly get bigger, closer, more intimidating…
You could hear them now. An ear-piercing, vibrating stomping, but in complete uniformity; a left-right, left-right military formation. A machine’s cry of battle.
***
The Doctor was shoved into a small metal chamber, wherein he was ‘greeted’ by a Cyber-leader. His expression, however, was possibly colder than that of the machine. He’d seen his friends – old friends – converted before his very eyes. He’d given up all hope; all attempts to bargain. Perhaps he’d given up on the whole universe. But if the right opportunity came, he would destroy the Cybermen, even if it meant destroying himself. And he would do so mercilessly.
“You will place your hand on the table.” The Cyber-leader gestured to a white circular unit in the centre of the room. The Doctor contemplated. If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well put up a fight.
He launched a blow at the Cyberman’s chest plate, but, as soon as he did that, it reacted with the same swift movement; knocking the Doctor out in one rapid motion – destroying the universe’s last glimmer of hope.
***
The Cybermen and Daleks had now reached equal footing, and had begun battle. The Daleks attempted to exterminate the Cybermen, but the Cybermen’s armour reflected the shot. Likewise, when the Cybermen attempted to fire at the Daleks, they were protected by a force-field, so relatively little was accomplished by this preliminary exercise.
Suddenly, there was a brilliantly vivid light, and the Daleks took a moment to realise what was going on. As their eyestalks darted around, they could distinguish Cybermen, with their chest plates detached, firing out blue bolts of lightning at every Dalek in sight. And as a Dalek became aware of this, it was annihilated the next second. Before long, the Cybermen were winning. Amid the screaming of the most petrifying race in the universe, three words could be heard, repeating, over and over again: “UGRADE IN PROGRESS”.
***
The Hitchhiker stood in Kate’s office, staring out of the window, admiring his victory. All he could see were blue flashes of light. He’d eradicated the three biggest threats to him at present: the Cybermen, the Daleks, and the Doctor.
He looked back over his life. He mapped out his path in his head; from Gallifrey to this pocket universe – and onwards. The Doctor had ruined everything for him. He was in the position to do some good in the universe – good, at least, as he saw it – and the Doctor snatched the chance away, and walked off like he’d just swatted a fly. Killing the Doctor now, at least, was some kind of comeuppance. What would happen to him, though? Would his whole past be undone? Better than this, he thought. Better if my original plan was never thwarted.
As he contemplated this, he hadn’t noticed the Cyberman that had crept up behind him. He hadn’t seen it go for his shoulder – and when he felt it, a chill ran down his spine. A chill that was useless. It was too late for him now. The whole world went black, but his hearing wasn’t quite gone. He felt like he was being torn apart inside and every time the Cyberman spoke, the whole world vibrated. He couldn’t even speak.
“THE DALEKS HAVE BEEN DESTROYED. ALL THAT REMAINS ON THIS PLANET IS CYBER TECHNOLOGY. THE PLAN IS 71.543% COMPLETE. WE WILL NOW RETURN TO EARTH, AND PREPARE TO REAWAKEN THE ARMY. THE PLAN WILL CONTINUE…”
***
Luke lifted his eyelids. The world before him spun. He touched his cheek. He hadn’t been converted.
He hauled himself up, and looked around. He was still in the UNIT lab, but the whole place was empty. His footsteps echoed through the vast hallway. He looked out the window – still in the pocket universe, it seemed. Scared, confused, and slightly relieved, he made his way up the stairs, in an attempt to find anyone he could…
It was like everything had been restored. In the conference room, all of UNIT sat, completely unharmed; their bodies clean and human, their clothes the same as he had last seen them. The orange light projected a magical hue to the room which gave the illusion of a dream. He couldn’t be in heaven. No, that would be silly. Yet they all looked and apparently felt as phlegmatic as he was.
“What… happened?”
“I don’t know,” said Kate calmly. “I think we need to find the Doctor. Yes. He could probably explain this. I think…” she yawned. “I think I saw him heading with a Cyberman into the CCTV room. Now, don’t mind me. I think I might just have a sleep…”
“Wait!” Luke shook her. Almost on cue, the others proceeded to lay their heads on the desk and drift off. Luke was, essentially, on his own again.
He tiptoed down the corridor, heading for the CCTV room. Everything seemed so clear, yet so confusing – so calm, yet so precarious. He didn’t take much notice of what was around him; the clinically white walls, the flickering lights – it was all so unimportant.
He opened the door a creak. No Cybermen. He pushed it fully open. The CCTV room would need a bit of repairing, though. It had been turned into a conversion chamber; a white table in the centre was buzzing with electricity, all floating around the familiar shape of the Doctor, who was smiling back at Luke.
“Hello, Luke.”
“Would you like to tell me what on Earth is going on?”
***
Luke was running again. Oh, how it felt good to be running. Running with the Doctor. He thought he’d never be able to do that again. The Doctor swung open the doors to the TARDIS, and burst inside with his usual fervour.
“You see, the Cybermen missed something vital,” he explained gleefully, “they’d spent so long converting the dead that, like I said, they altered their systems, to do what was quickest and easiest. But they’d forgotten something. Because what don’t dead people do? Put up a fight, that’s what! They had no resistance levels at all, but you lot, you’ve got that gut survival instinct that is unique to your race. Your little human bodies told the Cybermen: no! You can’t come here!” he turned to Luke and they shared a brief smile. “That’s what makes you so unique, your funny little species.”
“So we’ve won!”
“Yes. The upgrades failed. I can use the TARDIS to propel us back into our own universe. But…”
“But what?”
“Doing that will do the TARDIS even more damage than it already had from the hole in the vortex. If I do this, Luke, it’ll be months, maybe even years before the TARDIS is functional again – if it ever is. That’s my gamble. This might finish her off.”
At that moment, when all hope was lost, the TARDIS groaned. A mechanical, beseeching, mighty groan that told the Doctor what he needed to know. “Sorry old girl,” he said. “This part might hurt a bit…”
Re-posting this one, I realise how far I've come. These are the early days of my prose and they're full of flaws, slightly uninspired and often overdramatic dialogue or description. Nevertheless, elements of later, 'proper' Haunted are beginning to emerge that weren't so present in other episodes - the emphasis on ordinary, human lives with Lynda's deliberately mundane existence being played on for effect, and Olivia facing the consequences of returning home.
But the most remarkable thing about Reawakening of the Cybermen, and what it's remembered for by most readers looking back today, is that it told the story of Death in Heaven two years before it was written. The tale tells of Cybermen converting our dead, but also a retelling of Doomsday, a more fulfilling battle between two mighty forces and aspects of the Doctor Who mythos. It's here too that the similarities between Haunted and the Doctor Who episodes which followed it over the next couple of years really start to become visible, which in some ways takes away from the originality of Haunted, but in others shows that, although the storytelling itself could be polished up, the ideas were definitely there in Series One, perhaps even at their strongest.
Reawakening of the Cybermen
“SCANNER INDICATES HIGH-FREQUENCY COMMUNICATIONS. INTERCEPT! INTERCEPT!”
The Strategist glided over to the control panel and did as instructed.
“COMMUNICATIONS INTERCEPTED. OBSERVE!”
A blue hologram flashed up in the centre of the circle. The entire Dalek parliament fixed their eyes on the projection; their cold, emotionless eyes, all attentively staring at the screen, waiting for something to happen. Suddenly, something flashed up. It was a Cyberman – its voice robotic and passive; without the anger or ambition that the Daleks conveyed. But there was something proud about its intonation. A tone of victory.
“Cyber-Communications One to Cyber-Communications Five. Do you receive?” Then a pause; waiting for a response, which the Daleks gathered had been received when it continued. “Permission granted to activate the anti-matter wave. Proceed imminently.”
The Daleks broke out into turmoil. It didn’t happen often. They were a species of regulation, waiting obediently for instructions, or news, or consent – but not this time. A hall of screaming voices and representatives trying unsuccessfully to keep order.
“DALEK PARLIAMENT SHIP WILL BE RE-LOCATED. PANIC WILL CEASE; A NEW PLAN WILL BE FORMULATED TO-“
A wave passed over the parliament, wiping out everything in its path, as if God himself had leant down and blown gently over them. Everything it passed simply vanished, leaving in its space nothing – no light, no dark, no sound, no stars, no time – nothing. The areas it covered were simply erased. There was no explosion. Just an incontrollable commotion, and then…
Silence.
“Results confirmed. The war is over. Record date: Alpha C2, 001. A new location has been decided for Cyber expansion. Destination: Earth.”
***
Lynda Harris stood in her house in Farnham. She packed her children’s lunches. Marmite sandwich, a banana and a penguin for Lewis. Marmite sandwich, a banana and a penguin for Sally. Peanut butter sandwich, a banana and a penguin for Liam because he didn’t like marmite, which was annoying, because Matthew’s mum, Emily, always made marmite sandwiches when they went over there, and always had to make a different sandwich for Liam, which was embarrassing for Lynda. Why should her kids be fussy when Matthew always ate whatever they gave him? Why was it that they always left crumbs all over the table whereas Matthew ate his sandwich over the plate, with the crusts, because he wanted curly hair when he was older?
“Have you got your schoolbooks, Lewis?”
“Yes, mummy.”
“Have you got your schoolbooks, Sally?”
“Yes, mummy.”
“Have you got your schoolbooks, Liam?” No response. “Liam? I said, have you got your schoolbooks?”
Still no response. She sighed. She started up the stairs, entering into Liam’s room, ignoring the ‘Liam Only’ sign on the door, and saw Liam laying on the bed; his mien forlorn, his bottom lip curled, his eyes staring intently at the wall, and his hands fisted.
“Liam, come on! Get ready for school!”
“I don’t want to get ready,” he replied; quiet and solemn.
“And why’s that?”
“Because I’m ill.”
Lynda followed the usual routine. She got the thermometer, placed it under his tongue, and pulled it out again when it blipped.
“See?” she showed him the thermometer. “You’re fine.”
“But I don’t feel well. I’ve got a headache and a tummy ache.”
“Liam…” she sat on the bed, brushing his hair affectionately as she spoke to him softly. “What’s the matter really?”
“They’re still bullying me,” he answered. He’d given in quickly. He just wanted to make sure he had her attention.
Lynda groaned. She’s spoken to the school about it already, but they never did anything. Too busy with stupid Ofsted. She opened her mouth, about to comfort him, but then the phone rang.
“Sorry Liam, I’ll be back in a minute.”
She dashed into the bedroom and lifted the phone off of its holder, quickly pressing the green button lest it did its usual and went to voicemail just as she got to it. She dialled 1471.
“Hello?”
“Lynda?” It was Emily’s voice, but uncertain and spooked, unlike her usual nonchalant and collected self.
“Hi Emily, what’s up? I’m just getting the kids to school.”
“Me too. But I think you should know this. I woke up in the night and saw something out of the window. I didn’t think anything of it because I was only half-awake, but now I’ve realised that it’s actually really weird, and I know for sure that I saw it, because I asked Alison, you know; not flower Alison, neighbour Alison, and she reckons she saw it too, no kidding, cuz’ she has insomnia, you know, after the rabbit incident, so she was wide awake, on Facebook-“
“Yeah, anyway,” said Lynda, rushing her on, “what did you see?”
“Your mother. Walking along the street. And I know it was her for sure because she even had the limp-“
Lynda slammed down the phone. Some kind of sick joke; it must’ve been. But from Emily?
She thought back to that gloomy October afternoon. The second-worst day of her life. She remembered it well; lowering the coffin into the ground, not being able to read the eulogy properly because of her shaking hands – it was the day of her mother’s funeral. And it was two whole years ago.
***
“Where did you go?” asked Alex. It had been an hour since she’d turned up and she’d had to leave the room in surprise. Olivia had approached her in the locker room, and explained everything. How she’d met the Doctor in Shanghai and how she hadn’t meant to be nearly ten years. It had all been a very bad coincidence, she said. But according to the Doctor, she had to stay now – and she couldn’t go back and change anything. 'A part of events'.
“I went to Moscow, in the far future,” Olivia begun. “Time had changed. I watched it change back before my eyes.” She pictured the fluctuating landscape; the billions of histories flashing by in seconds. “It was beautiful,” she said humbly, with awe in her voice. “But terrible.” She winced from memory of the horror. “A million futures, all flitting before me like pages of a book…”
“Did you think about me?” asked Alex, indignantly. “Did you think about us back home?”
“Honestly? No, not really. I wasn’t gone long – not for me. And it was all so amazing. We went to Victorian London-“
“Your mother nearly killed herself,” Alex abruptly interjected. “We all thought you were dead. She had no one. Of course, I had no one too, but, you know, you don’t think about yourself when there’s a heartbroken woman to look after. A woman who’s just lost the love of her life. And then her daughter walks out on her!”
In anger, Alex swung her arm at a shelf, and knocked a dozen glasses to the floor. Olivia stepped back, threatened.
“It wasn’t my fault, I swear. I was going to come back-“
“You know the worst part? You were enjoying yourself. Not worrying about your poor mum back home! You could have died, there. Valiantly risking your life for the Doctor – you don’t see the damage you cause back home, you stupid girl! I thought we were friends. You didn’t even tell me you were going! So I came back here – back to London – and I joined UNIT. Thought maybe I’d be able to find you. Turns out you were out, gallivanting, with Mr. bloody E.T!”
As Olivia opened her mouth to start talking again, Alex’s coms device sounded.
“Alex,” came Kate Stewart’s muffled voice, “I need you in the interview room now. We’ve got a woman who’s just seen her dead mother. Could be a big case, but she’s quite stressed out.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Alex turned to leave, not even acknowledging Olivia’s presence. After all, she hadn’t acknowledged hers when it mattered.
“Alex, I-“
She slammed the door, and Olivia was left, mid-sentence, suddenly wishing more than ever that she could turn back time.
***
“Lynda Harris,” said Kate, “she said she’s found CCTV footage of Margaret Hatton, her dead mother walking past her friend’s house. The police referred us again. I’ve gone to check the footage. When you’re ready.”
Alex entered the interview room; her eyesight adjusting to the darkened hue of the room. She sat opposite Lynda.
Lynda was an average-looking middle-aged woman. Not unattractive, but not glamorous either; long but not particularly stylish blonde hair, a tired, slightly nervous disposition, and some simple office clothes were about all that could be observed. She wasn’t exactly the target of an alien assassin or anything as sinister as that.
“Good morning, Mrs Harris,” she said formally, “my name’s Alex Paige, I’m the team leader of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce Special Operations team. I assume you’ve spoken to the police?”
“Yes, I have. But they, err, redirected me to you. Why did they do that, do you know?” She had a faint Geordie accent, which sometimes came through as she got more confident.
“Well, I’d imagine they were out of their depth. They usually are.” She got out her notepad and pulled a pen from her top pocket. She then tied back her frizzy black hair and started jotting down notes. “So, I hear your mother’s been seen walking. Is this definite?”
“Yes. There’s a, um, search party out at the moment. The CCTV has got her on there – it’s definitely her.”
“Mrs Harris, if you wouldn’t mind, could you please explain to me the exact nature of your mother’s death?”
“She had Alzheimer’s disease.” The woman bit her nail, trying to unnoticeably wipe a tear from her eye as she did so, but Alex detected it, keeping quiet nonetheless. “I watched her get worse until she didn’t even know my name. Her own daughter. I went to see her one last time after she died – I saw the body. Then I watched it lowered into the ground.”
“When was your mother buried?”
“Two years ago.”
“Where?”
“Farnham, where I live. West Street cemetery.”
“Has the grave been checked?”
“Yes, and they found that the ground had been dug up. The coffin was raised up and the body was gone. But I thought she’d have started to, um, decompose now?”
“Possibly, though nowhere near completely. Has anything unusual happened in the area you live?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Was there anything suspicious surrounding the circumstances of your mother’s death?”
“No, like I said.”
Alex was so sharp pressing her questions; so quick. It was as if she had a computer working in her mind, narrowing down the options. She pulled her coms device off of her jacket and spoke into it. “Ma’am,” she said courteously. “Would we be able to have a search through all recent documents of Farnham – in particular, West Street Cemetery? Thanks.” She got up, opened the door, and beckoned Lynda to follow her out. “Tea?” she asked. “Biscuits?”
“Oh, I thought you’d never ask.”
***
“We’ve sent an extra search party out to help the police,” said Alex. “We’re going to find out what happened to your mother as quick as we possibly can. We’re not the police. We’re working with you, and we mean that. Always with you. And we all care. I used to live in Farnham, actually. My brother is buried in that very graveyard.”
They were now doing as Alex had promised; sitting in the canteen, Alex with a cup of very strong tea, and Lynda with a coffee and a packet of ginger biscuits. She dipped one in the coffee, but her hand was still trembling, and half of the biscuit fell into the tree. She picked up a teaspoon, and, as the conversation continued, persisted in trying to recover the broken biscuit.
“What are you then? What do you do?” Lynda was so intrigued. Alex liked that. Intrigue showed attentiveness. Attentiveness showed care.
“We deal with the strange and the alien. The unexplained. The unexplainable.”
“A bit like the X-Files, then?” chuckled Lynda.
“Better.”
Lynda’s smile faded and she stared down at the table dejectedly. “Do you think there’s a chance…?”
“A chance that your mother is still alive?” interpolated Alex. “Yes. There’s always a chance. But never, ever get your hopes up. It’s a cruel world that we live in, Mrs Harris. I learnt that the hard way.”
Kate burst in through the door and approached Alex. Everyone else in the canteen turned around at the noise of Kate’s rapid breathing; she’d been running.
“Alex, we’ve looked back at records of Farnham, and there was something. A meteorite that crash-landed and embedded itself just next to West Street Cemetery a hundred years ago. Also…” catching her breath, she looked warily at Lynda, as if wondering whether or not to speak in front of her. “We’ve found Margaret Hatton’s body. Lynda, we’re going to need you to identify it. I’m sorry. This isn’t going to be easy…”
***
Lynda stood outside of the room breathless. She couldn’t believe what she’d seen. What they’d done to her mother. What she had become. Alex approached her sympathetically.
“Mrs Harris… I’m very, very sorry to have to push questions like this. But our investigation has taken a step forward. We need to know for sure. Was that your mother’s body?”
“Yes,” mouthed Lynda through her tears. “W-what have they done to her?”
“It’s hard to say,” said Alex, hopelessly but still reassuringly. “But I promise you that we’ll get to the bottom of this. We’ve got our head scientific advisor working on it now. The Doctor.” She seemed to spit those last two words.
“The Doctor? Doctor Who?”
***
“How remarkable...” commented the Doctor, examining the body. She was just an ordinary old woman; wrinkly, short, curly grey hair... but she’d been dead two years, despite looking like she’d only passed away a matter of hours ago. Yet the Doctor spoke so matter-of-factly about it. There seemed to be no sympathy there. It was all so professional.
There was something, however, completely unusual about the body. Her face was half-covered in a metallic mask, which crept down her cheek like weeds down an unkempt wall. The Doctor had seen it before. Those plant-like robotics. It was the Cybermen.
“Let’s say…” began the Doctor, “that the Cybermen crash-landed, inside that meteorite, a hundred years ago. But the meteorite embedded itself into the ground, and it wasn’t an accidental crash. It was purposeful.”
“You can have a purposeful crash?” asked Kate.
“Of course. It’s like a landing, but not so comfy. And the ship implants itself into the earth around it. And it grows – because that’s what the Cybermen have learnt, that’s their new discovery; robotic growth. It forms a number of tunnels underneath West Street cemetery. And of course, the Cybermen want to invade, don’t they? That’s their ultimate plan; upgrade the universe. But they can’t, because their numbers are few, and those there are are damaged. So they extend their tunnels further and reach the coffins. And no one sees, because no one digs up the dead. This happens for a century. More and more of the dead are converted. The Cybernetics sustain life; frozen, if you like. But in the case of Margaret Hatton, the upgrade begins to reverse after a couple of years. This induces consciousness. The Cyberman, with all its strength, climbs out of her tomb. She walks the streets. Now, the upgrade is nearly completely reversed. But she’s not human; she wasn’t alive. As soon as the Cyberman has gone, there’s nothing. And thus she dies on the street, and that’s where we find her.”
“If they’ve been doing that for the past 100 years –“ continued Kate “- and that’s saying they have – how many Cybermen are we talking? And what are they doing? Waiting to rise from their graves? How strong will they be?”
The Doctor looked solemn. Very solemn indeed. Solemner than she’d ever seen him.
“If the Cybermen are running out of power to fully upgrade, then they’re going to wake the army. That’s going to be around a hundred Cybermen. Yes, they’re infinitely dangerous. But at a push, we could deal with that.”
“Then what are you so scared of?”
“The Cybermen have spent the last thousand years waging an interstellar war with another species. And I’m almost certain that if the Cybermen are here, so are the other species. Earth will become a battleground for history’s most gruesome war.”
Suddenly, the doors to the research lab burst open, and in came an army of metal warriors. They stomped in with uniformity and cold ambition; their hollow eyes lacking any humanity, or compassion, or mercy. They froze on the spot awaiting their next command. You could see something inside. The shape of a body. Once they were us.
“Doctor…” Kate looked around anxiously. “What is the other species?”
“Daleks.”
“You belong to us. You will be like us.”
The Cybermen stood row on row. They crowded the corridors. They covered all available exits. The Doctor, Luke, Kate, Phillip, Alex and Lynda were all surrounded. Some were better-versed than others, but they were all aware of the basic facts: they had lost.
A guard tried to strike a Cyberman unexpected with his gun, but the cyborg knocked it aside with its arm, and with the other arm, smashed the guard in the face. He fell to the floor with a thud.
“Do not attempt to resist. This base is now under Cyber-control. This will be the centre of all upgrades. You will be upgraded.”
“Don’t try anything clever,” whispered the Doctor to the group, “unless you are absolutely sure. If you make a mistake, they will kill you. The last time I fought the Cybermen, they claimed that their next upgrade would be unstoppable.”
Phillip protested. “Nothing is unstoppable.”
A Cyberman turned to face them. It stomped over. The group edged backwards in fear. It had been listening.
“All upgrades were designed based on observations on human emotion. We understand your weaknesses. We have adapted ourselves to combat any and all threats posed to us. We are unstoppable.”
Lynda could hardly believe what she was seeing. She covered her mouth with her hands to prevent herself from crying out. Everyone else there had been so used to spending their lives submerged in aliens that they’d forgotten what being a normal person was like. Luke was shaking too, but he stepped forward. He’d faced the Sontarans, the Judoon, the Trickster himself... the Cybermen could hardly be worse than all of them put together, could they?
“How will you upgrade us from here?” he asked. “There’s no technology here to upgrade people with.”
“Luke, don’t…” The Doctor’s voice couldn’t be heard over Luke’s own terrified breaths.
“What are you going to do? Hand us each a few suits?”
The Cyberman stood thoughtfully for a moment, as if considering his suggestion. Then it grabbed him by the throat. He struggled, but the Cyberman fastened its grip. Out of its eyes came some long strips of wriggly metal, like insects; mites – Cybermites. They sped down its arm and entered Luke’s mouth. All the Doctor could do was stand by and watch hopelessly as his old friend was converted. The Cyberman let go and Luke fell to the floor.
The Doctor was pulsating in anger. He stepped forward. Everyone behind him suddenly became unnerved. The Cybermen – they were nothing compared to this. He emitted a smell of scorching iron and he glared at the Cyberman with fury and resentment.
“He asked you a question,” he growled, suddenly getting louder; “YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO KILL HIM!”
All Cyber units turned to the Doctor, and he suddenly realised what a mistake he had made.
“Resistance will not be tolerated.”
The Doctor was fast. He whipped his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and aimed it at the cyborg. A blue holographic light shone over it, holding it back for a minute.
“Upgrade in progress,” returned its deep, robotic voice.
A spark flew off the screwdriver as the Cyberman walked into the blue light. The Doctor tried again, but it had fried the circuits.
All the Cybermen circled around him, their slivery arms getting closer and closer, and the Doctor stood in silence, utterly helpless…
The Doctor closed his eyes, preparing to embrace death. He waited. Had he died? Everything was silent. He might open his eyes. But dare he? Dare he peak at the mysteries of death? What if he had been converted?
He slightly opened one eyelid, and closed it again. Then it occurred to him what he had just seen. How was that possible? He opened the other eyelid until both eyes were gazing at the sight in front of him.
The Cybermen had all turned away, and were staring at the exits. And through the glass, the Doctor could just about make something out. Sunlight. But no ordinary sunlight – an ice-blue sunlight that could only mean an alien world. This was followed by a voice – one which was far too recognisable…
“I’ve moved you; sorry for the inconvenience. But, you know, everything just seemed so picturesque here, and I thought; well, a full Cyber fleet won’t want to miss this! And then, I thought…”
The Doctor looked to his right where the voice was coming from and instantly recognised its owner. A young man, with sleek blonde hair and a devilish smile – but he wasn’t a man at all. He was the enigmatic Time Lord; the Hitchhiker.
“…the Doctor certainly won’t want to miss this either.”
“Hitchhiker…” everyone looked around, faintly remembering echoes of dark implications that the Doctor had mentioned relating to that word. “What have you done?”
“BORED AGAIN!” He chuckled insanely as he merrily bounced back, hitting a Cyberman. It didn’t alarm him. “Boys – take them away!”
The Cybermen slammed the Doctor, Alex, Olivia, Phillip, Kate and Lynda into a storage room at the end of the corridor. There weren’t any windows, so the Doctor couldn’t further deduce where they had moved to. There weren’t even any proper seats – just boxes, one on top of the other, and mossy brick walls.
“Tell me everything,” said Alex. “Everything you know about the Hitchhiker and the Cybermen and… everything.”
At first, there was an awkward silence, but as all eyes were on the Doctor, he had no choice but to cooperate.
“The Cybermen wanted to amalgamate. They wanted to assimilate Dalek technology with their own. But the Daleks had visions of universal supremacy, and, in their twisted ideologies, everything remotely ‘un-Dalek’ was wrong. And the Cybermen had been converting other species; humans, Rublerfellians, Castellions – so therefore, the Daleks perceived them as utterly immoral. They wouldn’t go ahead with the assimilation. So the Cybermen registered them as reject stock.” He stretched his arms out, and clicked his fingers together, sighing a sigh of tiredness. “There were days when one Dalek could have taken out a whole fleet. But the Cybermen had upgraded a million times since then, and it was an equal match. So this intergalactic war raged. 1000 years of stalemate. Obviously, the Cybermen had the upper hand, because look at them now. If there are Cybermen, there is one thing guaranteed. The Daleks will be here too. And the Hitchhiker – I know nothing about him. Not a peep. His timeline is reversed to mine. All I know is that he’s a complete nut-job – he was ready to kill me and thus endanger his own personal timeline. Any Time Lord with that will is dangerous – scarily dangerous.”
“Which is why I locked you up, Doctor!”
The Doctor turned like clockwork at the insane voice of the Hitchhiker.
“What do you want?”
“Oh, you know… just-“
The Doctor had had enough of the Hitchhiker’s teasing deception. In anger, he grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and held him up against the wall. Everyone else was terrified. The Hitchhiker seemed to find it amusing.
“Tell me now,” panted the Doctor, the Hitchhiker trembling in his firm grip, “have you been following me? Is it you? Are you the shadow in the corner, eh? Everywhere I go?”
“I swear,” wheezed the man, “I know nothing about what you are talking about. But I can tell you about my metal mates in there, if you want.”
The Doctor released his grip, and the Hitchhiker fell to floor. He shrugged it off. He was used to being battered and grazed. Most of the time, he’d asked for it. He began his story:
“I’m presuming that this is just after the TARDIS incident, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll remember that I did a little vanishing act.” This sentence was followed by a vain chuckle. “The Cybermen found me. Their ship had picked up on the TARDIS. They were looking for a new Cyber-Planner to be in control of all Cyber-war operations. I told them – I promised them – that, if they kept me alive, and did as I said, that I could find them you. The oldest, most knowledgeable being in the universe – you could be theirs. I led them here to you. They’ve transported the entire UNIT base into a parallel universe so that they can isolate you – thanks to technology I borrowed from your TARDIS I suppose you could say… you made this world.”
While the Doctor was talking with the Hitchhiker, concurrently, Alex comforted Lynda...
“What is it, then? A parallel universe? Even with my technology, that must have taken some mighty engineering.”
“It’s not a parallel universe, exactly. More of a pocket universe. It’s the biggest battleground for the Cyber-Dalek war. The entire Dalek armada and the Cyber fleets will all be gathering here. Every Dalek and every Cyberman in the whole entire universe. The biggest battle since the Last Great Time War.”
“Couldn’t you just blow up the planet?” suggested Olivia, so heartlessly that she even surprised herself.
“Oh…” the Hitchhiker turned taunting to face her. “You’ve been learning from the Doctor. Genocide – that’s his style. You know it, too. I can see it in your eyes. I can read you…”
“ANSWER HER QUESTION!” roared the Doctor. The Hitchhiker didn’t get scared or persist to answer. He simply laughed. A cruel, pretentious, knowing laugh. “What is it? What do you know?”
“This pocket universe was created from our own.” The Hitchhiker’s smile vanished. Just for a moment – there was fear there. “You’d have to destroy the whole pocket universe. In doing so, the echo of the explosion would obliterate the Earth in the process. You’d kill all life on the planet.”
The Doctor considered what the Hitchhiker had said. “What are we going to do, then?”
“You? You can do what you like.” The Hitchhiker resumed his usual jokiness and nonchalance. “Me, though? I’m going to continue with the plan. The Cybermen will take you all for upgrading. Then, when I’m out of the way, I’ll blow it up. And you, Doctor; you’ll be watching. Through your cold, silver eyes. The Earth will be obliterated – and you won’t even shed a tear.”
The Hitchhiker left the room, and the Doctor was left, despairing. After five minutes of miserable silence, a group of Cybermen entered, and escorted them outside. Kate was first for upgrading. The Cyberman forced her into a white chamber, and from there, nothing more was seen of her. Then Olivia, then Alex. And they all entered, remembering Luke Smith, and all the others who had fallen victim to the Hitchhiker’s perverse transactions. Finally, the Doctor was carted off, to be converted to the new Cyber-planner, and to welcome a new age of steel.
***
The Dalek spaceship clamped its legs into the surface of the planet. They were so heavy; like drills burrowing down into the planet’s core, causing the ground above to tremble and welcome the majesty of the Daleks. The ramp dropped down, and soon, floods of the metal monsters were flooding out like ants, but ready to seek out all life in the universe and end it.
The horizon was a morbid one. A lifeless, dusty, rocky surface, covered only by craters and jagged peaks. In the sky: nothing. Just darkness. The end of that tiny pocket universe – they were staring into nothingness, and nothingness stared back at them.
The Cyber armada could just about be identified in the distance: a blurry mass of grey seeming to slowly get bigger, closer, more intimidating…
You could hear them now. An ear-piercing, vibrating stomping, but in complete uniformity; a left-right, left-right military formation. A machine’s cry of battle.
***
The Doctor was shoved into a small metal chamber, wherein he was ‘greeted’ by a Cyber-leader. His expression, however, was possibly colder than that of the machine. He’d seen his friends – old friends – converted before his very eyes. He’d given up all hope; all attempts to bargain. Perhaps he’d given up on the whole universe. But if the right opportunity came, he would destroy the Cybermen, even if it meant destroying himself. And he would do so mercilessly.
“You will place your hand on the table.” The Cyber-leader gestured to a white circular unit in the centre of the room. The Doctor contemplated. If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well put up a fight.
He launched a blow at the Cyberman’s chest plate, but, as soon as he did that, it reacted with the same swift movement; knocking the Doctor out in one rapid motion – destroying the universe’s last glimmer of hope.
***
The Cybermen and Daleks had now reached equal footing, and had begun battle. The Daleks attempted to exterminate the Cybermen, but the Cybermen’s armour reflected the shot. Likewise, when the Cybermen attempted to fire at the Daleks, they were protected by a force-field, so relatively little was accomplished by this preliminary exercise.
Suddenly, there was a brilliantly vivid light, and the Daleks took a moment to realise what was going on. As their eyestalks darted around, they could distinguish Cybermen, with their chest plates detached, firing out blue bolts of lightning at every Dalek in sight. And as a Dalek became aware of this, it was annihilated the next second. Before long, the Cybermen were winning. Amid the screaming of the most petrifying race in the universe, three words could be heard, repeating, over and over again: “UGRADE IN PROGRESS”.
***
The Hitchhiker stood in Kate’s office, staring out of the window, admiring his victory. All he could see were blue flashes of light. He’d eradicated the three biggest threats to him at present: the Cybermen, the Daleks, and the Doctor.
He looked back over his life. He mapped out his path in his head; from Gallifrey to this pocket universe – and onwards. The Doctor had ruined everything for him. He was in the position to do some good in the universe – good, at least, as he saw it – and the Doctor snatched the chance away, and walked off like he’d just swatted a fly. Killing the Doctor now, at least, was some kind of comeuppance. What would happen to him, though? Would his whole past be undone? Better than this, he thought. Better if my original plan was never thwarted.
As he contemplated this, he hadn’t noticed the Cyberman that had crept up behind him. He hadn’t seen it go for his shoulder – and when he felt it, a chill ran down his spine. A chill that was useless. It was too late for him now. The whole world went black, but his hearing wasn’t quite gone. He felt like he was being torn apart inside and every time the Cyberman spoke, the whole world vibrated. He couldn’t even speak.
“THE DALEKS HAVE BEEN DESTROYED. ALL THAT REMAINS ON THIS PLANET IS CYBER TECHNOLOGY. THE PLAN IS 71.543% COMPLETE. WE WILL NOW RETURN TO EARTH, AND PREPARE TO REAWAKEN THE ARMY. THE PLAN WILL CONTINUE…”
***
Luke lifted his eyelids. The world before him spun. He touched his cheek. He hadn’t been converted.
He hauled himself up, and looked around. He was still in the UNIT lab, but the whole place was empty. His footsteps echoed through the vast hallway. He looked out the window – still in the pocket universe, it seemed. Scared, confused, and slightly relieved, he made his way up the stairs, in an attempt to find anyone he could…
It was like everything had been restored. In the conference room, all of UNIT sat, completely unharmed; their bodies clean and human, their clothes the same as he had last seen them. The orange light projected a magical hue to the room which gave the illusion of a dream. He couldn’t be in heaven. No, that would be silly. Yet they all looked and apparently felt as phlegmatic as he was.
“What… happened?”
“I don’t know,” said Kate calmly. “I think we need to find the Doctor. Yes. He could probably explain this. I think…” she yawned. “I think I saw him heading with a Cyberman into the CCTV room. Now, don’t mind me. I think I might just have a sleep…”
“Wait!” Luke shook her. Almost on cue, the others proceeded to lay their heads on the desk and drift off. Luke was, essentially, on his own again.
He tiptoed down the corridor, heading for the CCTV room. Everything seemed so clear, yet so confusing – so calm, yet so precarious. He didn’t take much notice of what was around him; the clinically white walls, the flickering lights – it was all so unimportant.
He opened the door a creak. No Cybermen. He pushed it fully open. The CCTV room would need a bit of repairing, though. It had been turned into a conversion chamber; a white table in the centre was buzzing with electricity, all floating around the familiar shape of the Doctor, who was smiling back at Luke.
“Hello, Luke.”
“Would you like to tell me what on Earth is going on?”
***
Luke was running again. Oh, how it felt good to be running. Running with the Doctor. He thought he’d never be able to do that again. The Doctor swung open the doors to the TARDIS, and burst inside with his usual fervour.
“You see, the Cybermen missed something vital,” he explained gleefully, “they’d spent so long converting the dead that, like I said, they altered their systems, to do what was quickest and easiest. But they’d forgotten something. Because what don’t dead people do? Put up a fight, that’s what! They had no resistance levels at all, but you lot, you’ve got that gut survival instinct that is unique to your race. Your little human bodies told the Cybermen: no! You can’t come here!” he turned to Luke and they shared a brief smile. “That’s what makes you so unique, your funny little species.”
“So we’ve won!”
“Yes. The upgrades failed. I can use the TARDIS to propel us back into our own universe. But…”
“But what?”
“Doing that will do the TARDIS even more damage than it already had from the hole in the vortex. If I do this, Luke, it’ll be months, maybe even years before the TARDIS is functional again – if it ever is. That’s my gamble. This might finish her off.”
At that moment, when all hope was lost, the TARDIS groaned. A mechanical, beseeching, mighty groan that told the Doctor what he needed to know. “Sorry old girl,” he said. “This part might hurt a bit…”
|
Track 3 - Alvar (Goldfrapp)
A track that hits the exact mood I was looking for writing the final scene; used to accompany the episode even during the early days it was written, and frankly, the scene wouldn't be complete without out. |
Kate lifted her head off the table and brushed back her messy hair. What had just happened? She could remember being upgraded, and then…
“Don’t panic,” said the Doctor, “you’re alright – you were just a bit exhausted after all that resistance. You lot, you put up a fight.”
The Doctor sat himself down on a chair next to Kate and started fiddling with a pen. Everyone else in the room also started to wake up; admin staff, guards, scientists…
“Is that them gone then?” asked Kate.
“No. I’m afraid not.” The Doctor shook his head gravely. “They won the battle. They didn’t manage to convert me to Cyber-planner because I was knocked unconscious and the specified part of my brain was inactive. But they didn’t try, which makes me think they may have found someone else. The Hitchhiker.”
“You think he got converted?”
“I know he got converted. They’re the Cybermen; that’s what they do – how they work. They force conversion on every living creature and then upgrade their own. They don’t keep their promises.”
“Where do you think they’ve gone now?”
“Not a clue. But I have a feeling that we’re going to find out soon. Have your military ready, Kate. Next time the Cybermen strike – and there will be a next time – have an army who will put up a fair fight. Though I’m not sure that anyone can fight the Cybermen…”
The Doctor stood up to leave, and Kate was prompted to ask the question that burned on her mind.
“Doctor…” He turned. “There is one thing I remember. You said something about someone following you, from Moscow. What did you mean?”
He perched back on the chair. “I’m being stalked, Kate. By an entity in the shadows. I can’t put my finger on who or what she is…”
“She?”
“I’m almost certain. There’s something about her that makes me think… I recognise her, but I don’t know. I only see her in the corner of my eye, but she’s almost always there, wherever I am. She’s driving me insane.”
“Do you think she’s a ghost?”
The Doctor laughed. “A ghost? Ha-ha, I don’t believe in ghosts – and speaking of ghosts, check the graveyard as soon as you can. That’s still a strategic advantage for the Cybermen.” He stood up, and strode out of the room, down the corridor, and into the TARDIS.
“I’m sorry old girl,” he said to her again once inside, stroking a hexagonal panel on the wall. “We might not be able to fly for a bit. Just us two, stuck here now. So, if you wouldn’t mind…”
The TARDIS immediately understood his instruction and the panel spun around, revealing a small arc just big enough for the Doctor to climb in. On the other side, he emerged in his study.
The deep red carpet, the patterned walls, the miscellaneous junk piled up under the rosewood desk – this was the Doctor’s favourite room. He threw himself on the rocking chair and lifted a picture-frame from the worktop.
“Oh, Clara,” he said to it, “you wouldn’t have believed the day I just had.”
As his mind began to wander into the dreamy cloud of thought, a sight caught his attention. Behind him, in the corner of his eye (seen only through the reflection of the photograph), there she was again; the mysterious figure, the wandering woman, the evanescent ghost.
In a fit of anger, after a hard day and full of furious intrigue, the Doctor turned around, banging the table as he did, to face his demon, and cried out: “What is it? WHAT DO YOU WANT?”
Once his vision had adjusted, he could make out the figure’s true identity. Her beautiful grey hair seemed to frame her face and a tear fell from her eye as she smiled at him innocently, but staying silent the whole time, waiting for the Doctor to understand.
“Mother?”
“Don’t panic,” said the Doctor, “you’re alright – you were just a bit exhausted after all that resistance. You lot, you put up a fight.”
The Doctor sat himself down on a chair next to Kate and started fiddling with a pen. Everyone else in the room also started to wake up; admin staff, guards, scientists…
“Is that them gone then?” asked Kate.
“No. I’m afraid not.” The Doctor shook his head gravely. “They won the battle. They didn’t manage to convert me to Cyber-planner because I was knocked unconscious and the specified part of my brain was inactive. But they didn’t try, which makes me think they may have found someone else. The Hitchhiker.”
“You think he got converted?”
“I know he got converted. They’re the Cybermen; that’s what they do – how they work. They force conversion on every living creature and then upgrade their own. They don’t keep their promises.”
“Where do you think they’ve gone now?”
“Not a clue. But I have a feeling that we’re going to find out soon. Have your military ready, Kate. Next time the Cybermen strike – and there will be a next time – have an army who will put up a fair fight. Though I’m not sure that anyone can fight the Cybermen…”
The Doctor stood up to leave, and Kate was prompted to ask the question that burned on her mind.
“Doctor…” He turned. “There is one thing I remember. You said something about someone following you, from Moscow. What did you mean?”
He perched back on the chair. “I’m being stalked, Kate. By an entity in the shadows. I can’t put my finger on who or what she is…”
“She?”
“I’m almost certain. There’s something about her that makes me think… I recognise her, but I don’t know. I only see her in the corner of my eye, but she’s almost always there, wherever I am. She’s driving me insane.”
“Do you think she’s a ghost?”
The Doctor laughed. “A ghost? Ha-ha, I don’t believe in ghosts – and speaking of ghosts, check the graveyard as soon as you can. That’s still a strategic advantage for the Cybermen.” He stood up, and strode out of the room, down the corridor, and into the TARDIS.
“I’m sorry old girl,” he said to her again once inside, stroking a hexagonal panel on the wall. “We might not be able to fly for a bit. Just us two, stuck here now. So, if you wouldn’t mind…”
The TARDIS immediately understood his instruction and the panel spun around, revealing a small arc just big enough for the Doctor to climb in. On the other side, he emerged in his study.
The deep red carpet, the patterned walls, the miscellaneous junk piled up under the rosewood desk – this was the Doctor’s favourite room. He threw himself on the rocking chair and lifted a picture-frame from the worktop.
“Oh, Clara,” he said to it, “you wouldn’t have believed the day I just had.”
As his mind began to wander into the dreamy cloud of thought, a sight caught his attention. Behind him, in the corner of his eye (seen only through the reflection of the photograph), there she was again; the mysterious figure, the wandering woman, the evanescent ghost.
In a fit of anger, after a hard day and full of furious intrigue, the Doctor turned around, banging the table as he did, to face his demon, and cried out: “What is it? WHAT DO YOU WANT?”
Once his vision had adjusted, he could make out the figure’s true identity. Her beautiful grey hair seemed to frame her face and a tear fell from her eye as she smiled at him innocently, but staying silent the whole time, waiting for the Doctor to understand.
“Mother?”