Doctor Who: The Good the Bad and the Alien / System Wipe Page 3

  across her face, 'or we could hitch a ride . . .'

  The Doctor had been logged into the

  computer for over half an hour now. The

  tiny flat had become cramped and stuffy a long

  time ago — even with the tiny window open.

  It had been Amy's suggestion to climb to

  the roof and admire the view while they waited,

  but the lifts had stopped working again and

  they had to take the stairs. There were seventy

  floors in total and Rory made sure to remind

  Amy of that fact as they passed each one.

  His feet hurt.

  'My feet hurt,' he said for the fifth time.

  'Nearly there now.'

  'They hurt bad. Like, blisters and things.'

  'It'll be worth it when we get to the top.'

  Finally they passed the uppermost floor

  and opened the hot metal door to the roof.

  A cool breeze washed over them and Rory

  undid a second button on his shirt. He held

  his arms away from his sides to fully enjoy the

  sensation as he walked across the burnt grey

  paving slabs that wound a path through the

  broken air-conditioning vents and shattered

  maintenance boxes.

  He put his arm around Amy as they reached

  the edge and gazed out at the ruins beyond.

  The view took their breath away.

  'It's like . . . everything is sky,' Rory said.

  From this height, the blinding heat of the

  sun appeared to have frozen the desert into

  glass. The dunes scattered a ragged reflection

  of the white-blue sky above. Even the nearby

  buildings were reflected, giving the impression

  that the entire city was simply —

  'Floating. That's what it feels like,' Amy

  replied. 'And there's not a cloud in the sky. Do

  you think there's any water left in the world?'

  'I don't know,' said Rory, squinting his

  eyes against the glare and looking around.

  'Although,' he motioned with his hand.

  'There's that.'

  Amy turned to her right. A single cloud

  hung on the horizon, a plume of glittering

  white that seemed to stretch for miles.

  'Uh, Rory, I don't think that's a cloud,' she

  said nervously. 'I think that's a sandstorm.'

  'Well it would be, wouldn't it?' Rory had

  travelled with the Doctor long enough to

  expect anything less dangerous. 'What shall

  we do?'

  Amy's reply was drowned out by a loud thud.

  It echoed loudly around the tower block and

  slowly the pair returned their gaze to the desert.

  A large round crater had appeared in the

  sand, just over a mile away from where the

  pair were standing.

  'There!' Amy pointed to the sky and Rory

  raised his eyes just in time to see a silver streak

  falling back down to Earth.

  Another thud, another crater. Closer this

  time.

  'What,' said Rory, 'was that?'

  They didn't have to wait long to find out.

  The object cannoned into the side of the

  tower block nearly twenty floors below with

  a crash that made the entire building shudder.

  Rory stumbled dangerously close to the edge

  of the roof but Amy grabbed him as she

  dropped to her knees beside him. Wrapping

  an arm around his legs for support, she leaned

  over the ledge and looked down.

  Clinging to the side of the structure,

  covered in grey concrete dust, was a giant

  robot. As they watched, it turned its smooth,

  featureless head upwards towards them,

  and the image of a bright yellow smiley face

  appeared on its screen. The face winked.

  With a loud crunch, the robot withdrew a

  fist from the wall and smashed it into the floor

  above to pull itself up. Then it did the same

  with its other fist. Slowly, the robot began to

  climb up the tower block, almost demolishing

  the wall as it did so. Broken glass and bits of

  plaster exploded outwards with each calculated

  punch, cascading over the robot's metal back

  like water.

  'Uh,' Rory put a hand on Amy's shoulder.

  'Shouldn't we be, um, running? Or something?'

  'I don't know. It seems pretty friendly, what

  with the smiley face and all.'

  'Yeah, but maybe that's how it tricks

  people into letting it kill them. I mean, how

  do we know it wasn't an army of robots that

  destroyed the planet in the first place? And

  demolishing this city isn't just them finishing

  the job?'

  'Could be,' Amy replied. 'But either way,

  it doesn't exactly look like the kinda thing we

  could run away from, does it?'

  Rory swallowed and winced as the building

  shuddered from another blow by the robot.

  'Well, you're the boss,' he said finally.

  So they waited, until eventually the robot's

  huge metal hand smashed through the ledge

  of the roof. It hauled its massive bulk onto the

  paving slabs. The slabs cracked.

  'Well you ... are definitely a lot bigger than

  I thought,' Rory finished lamely. Cautiously,

  Amy raised a hand and waggled her fingers in

  greeting.

  'Hi,' she said.

  The robot looked at them.

  'Hello.' Its voice crackled slightly, and

  it looked down to see that its speaker was

  clogged with dust. There was a sudden burst

  of noise, and a small grey cloud burst from its

  chest. When it spoke again its voice was far

  deeper than before. 'Let's try that again: hello?

  Hello.'

  'Did that robot just clear its throat at us?'

  whispered Amy.

  'I think it just did,' Rory replied.

  The robot ignored them. 'I'm sorry to

  bother you,' it continued, 'but I'm afraid an

  army of robots is heading this way and they're

  programmed to demolish the city.'

  There was silence for a moment, then Rory

  folded his arms and turned to face his wife.

  'This,' he said triumphantly, gesturing at the

  robot behind him with his thumb, 'is why you

  should always listen to me.'

  A short while later, Amy and Rory had led

  the robot down into the hallway outside

  apartment 23B. Its huge frame left long

  scratches down each side of the corridor and

  with every shuddering step, Rory had visions

  of them all plummeting down to ground level.

  'So, what do we call you?' Amy asked the

  robot. 'Do you have a name?'

  'My name is Daryl,' the robot replied.

  Rory sniggered and Daryl's smiley face

  transformed into a frown. Rory stopped

  sniggering immediately. 'Nice to meet you,

  Daryl,' he said.

  The door opposite the Doctor's apartment

  had been left ajar. Now it swung backwards

  and forwards in a heavy breeze, beating a

  regular rhythm against the frame.

  'That's funny,' said Amy. She stepped

  forward to prevent another slam, 'I can't

  remember it being this windy when we arrived.'

  She looked out
through the broken hole in

  the side of the tower block. The sandstorm

  was larger now, much larger.

  'They're coming,' said Daryl

  'Wait, you mean that sandstorm is the robot

  army you warned us about?'

  Daryl nodded.

  Rory swallowed. 'How many of them are

  there?'

  'It takes 347 to span the length of a city

  this large.'

  'But what's the point? There aren't any

  humans left to enslave!'

  'Enslave?' Daryl's screen refreshed and a

  large blue question mark appeared. 'They're

  helping humanity. And even if they could

  think for themselves, what would they need

  with human slaves?'

  'Well, in the movies . . .' Rory trailed off.

  Daryl shook his head in disbelief.

  'But why would humanity want their world

  demolished?' Amy stepped in.

  'Demolition is only the first stage. They're

  preparing the ground to rebuild the planet.'

  'So unless we grab the Doctor and get out

  of here sharpish we'll become the foundations

  for Chicago 2. I get it, right, let's go!' She

  pushed open the door to apartment 23B,

  and strode over to where the Doctor was still

  sitting, slumped in his chair and connected to

  the Desktop.

  'Wait, don't -' she heard Rory call over her

  shoulder, before he was drowned out by an

  almighty crash.

  Amy turned to see Daryl standing in the

  doorway. Or at least where the doorway used

  to be. The wooden frame was now perched

  at an angle across Daryl's back and behind

  him the plaster of the wall had been smashed

  through in a perfect outline of the robot.

  '— do that.' Rory finished quietly, standing

  on tiptoe to look over Daryl's shoulder and

  into the room.

  Daryl raised a finger and pointed at the

  Desktop. A small shower of plaster powder

  tumbled to the floor as he did so. 'Do not

  unplug the user,' he said.

  'What? Why?' Amy's hand hovered over

  the small green power light.

  'It's dangerous.'

  'More dangerous than getting demolished

  by an army of robot-bulldozers?'

  'That is unfair.'

  Amy rolled her eyes and moved to press

  the Desktop. In a flurry of movement, Daryl's

  arm snapped out. It extended on a piston and

  grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her away

  from the desk.

  Amy squealed, more out of surprise than

  anything else. Daryl's grip was surprisingly

  gentle.

  'Hey! Hands off my missus!' Rory banged

  on one of Daryl's shoulder blades with a fist.

  'If he is unplugged before he logs out, his

  mind will be separated from his body and his

  body will short-circuit.' To illustrate his point,

  Daryl's face flashed up a smiley face with

  crosses for eyes.

  'Ouch,' muttered Amy. 'Then how does he

  get out?'

  'He needs to find a save-point. It will store

  his online character and return his mind to his

  real-world body.'

  'But he doesn't know that he needs to save!'

  'I am connected to the network - if he

  hasn't moved far from the Tutorial zone I

  may be able to save him externally.' Moving

  Amy carefully aside, Daryl spread his right

  hand over the Desktop. From the inside of

  his palm, mini-pistons began to drop down

  and connect with the surface. The Desktop

  rippled with light as the pistons began to tap

  on its surface. It looked as if the finish was

  being struck by neon-water droplets. Amy

  thought it was beautiful.

  Amy, I think you'd better look at this.'

  Rory's voice broke her concentration. She

  rushed over to where he was standing in

  the hallway, looking out at the approaching

  sandstorm.

  It was much closer now, and through the

  rippling grains of glass sand, the pair could

  begin to make out the large, dark outlines of

  the demolition robots. They were huge.

  'We're running out of time,' Rory hissed

  urgently and, as if in response, the edge of the

  storm smashed into one of the outer buildings

  of the city.

  There was a terrible, crunching grinding

  noise, like nails scraping across a blackboard,

  only a thousand times louder.

  Amy covered her ears with her hands as

  the building began to shake.

  'Daryl! Tell me you're done!' she shouted

  over the din.

  Daryl straightened up, and turned his

  screen towards them. On it was a sad face.

  'The user has left the area. I am unable to

  pull him out.'

  'The Doctor! He's called the Doctor!'

  Amy ran over to him and flung her arms up in

  frustration. 'There's got to be something, he'll

  do something, that's what he does, escapes in

  the nick of time and —'

  The tower block shuddered again, longer

  and louder this time as another building was

  chewed up by the advancing bulldozers.

  'The nick of time has just run out,' Daryl

  stated. We have to go.'

  'No! We're not leaving him!' Rory was in

  the doorway now, his head and shoulders

  white with plaster dust. 'You're a robot! Call

  them off!'

  Daryl shook his head. 'I am not . . .

  operating within my programming. They will

  not listen to me and I can't risk my actions

  being discovered.'

  Amy and Rory exchanged puzzled glances.

  'What?'

  'What?!'

  Daryl waved them into silence, demolishing

  half the bathroom in the process. 'I do,

  however, have this.' A small hatch popped

  open in his thigh and he produced a small

  white sphere that immediately sprouted four

  legs. He reached down and placed it carefully

  on the floor beneath the Doctor's chair. 'An

  emergency beacon. It forbids the bulldozers

  to demolish anything within two metres square

  of its location.'

  They looked at the device doubtfully. It

  blinked at them. Then, before they could

  protest, Daryl reached out two massive hands

  and grabbed them both. Holding them tightly

  to his chest, he bent his knees with a sharp

  hiss of hydraulics.

  'Hopefully,' he finished, before jumping

  through the wall.

  Daryl set Amy and Rory down two miles away

  on the opposite side of the city. They staggered

  to their feet, battered and bruised, and turned

  to watch as the sandstorm swamped the tower

  block they had been standing in only a few

  minutes before. The wall of sand dwarfed

  even the tallest skyscrapers, and they looked

  on in horror as each one was transformed into

  a shower of glittering dust.

  Rory put a hand on Amy's arm, but he had

  no words to comfort her. Soon the city was

  lost from view.

  Amy turned to Daryl and looked
at him

  with hollow eyes.

  'What now?' she asked.

  In response, Daryl turned away from her

  and crouched. Then beckoned for them to

  climb onto his back.

  'Now,' he said, 'we run.'

  'Do you think your mount could stop trying

  to eat mine for just five minutes?' the

  Doctor sniffed. He was perched awkwardly

  on the back of a small, ostrich-type bird. It

  waddled under his weight and kept scooting

  off in the wrong direction whenever he wasn't

  concentrating.

  Blondie was riding a two-metre long tiger.

  Which was blue.

  She had found it prowling around at the

  edge of the stampede, ready to pick off any

  stragglers. With a few well-chosen swipes of

  her sword she had persuaded it to stand still

  long enough for her to climb onto its back.

  Once she had done that, the creature was

  stuck with her.

  It snapped its jaws at the Doctor's ostrich

  once again and let out a frustrated growl. The

  noise sent the bird and its rider zigzagging off

  to hide behind an emerald-coloured tree.

  Cautiously, the ostrich poked its head out

  from behind the trunk and squawked angrily

  at the tiger. The Doctor's head popped out

  soon after.

  'I suppose this is because I'm a level one

  animal-trainer-rider type-thing, right?'

  Blondie nodded. 'You're getting the hang

  of it now.'

  'And I presume you're on level three trillion

  and four or something because you're Little

  Miss Perfect?'

  'Well, thirty-five at animal training'

  The ostrich stretched out a bony leg to step

  cautiously out from behind the tree. The tiger

  growled and the bird quickly returned to its

  hiding place.

  'Well, if you're so good, how come you

  can't stop your tiger-thing from trying to eat

  my chicken-thing?'

  'I can. But it's funnier this way.'

  'Oh, you are a great help,' the Doctor let

  out a bitter laugh. 'It's the end of your world

  and all you can think about is making me

  look stupid.'

  Blondie smiled. 'I've always said it'd be nice

  to die laughing' She yanked at the lump of fur

  behind the tiger's neck that she was using as

  a rein and reared it away from the bird. 'But

  obviously your sense of humour is only at

  level one as well.'

  Finally the Doctor was able to control his

  ride, and trotted out to rejoin Blondie. 'So

  even a person's sense of humour has a level

  here?' he asked.

  'No, that was a joke.'

  'I'll shut up now.'