Doctor Who: Shining Darkness (14 page)

‘Um,’ said the Doctor awkwardly, watching the debris tumble to the ground around them.

‘Just a moment,’ said the first, raising a powerful, blobby hand.

‘Fine,’ said the Doctor, folding his arms. ‘You two go right ahead. We’ll just wait here, shall we?’

‘Let’s talk about this later,’ the round one said to its friend. ‘We’ve been told to sort these two out, so let’s get this done first, shall we? Save the domestics for—’

‘We’re not having a domestic,’ said the thin one through gritted teeth (or through what passed for teeth in its mighty metal head). ‘You always do this as well, don’t you?’

The Doctor sighed and planted his hands on his hips.

‘Well, it sounds like a domestic to me,’ the Doctor called
up
. He glanced over his shoulder to where Mother’s feet could be seen sticking out of the hole in the side of the pile of junk. More bits tumbled down as she wiggled her legs to get in deeper. ‘But I think it’s probably important to get these things out in the open, so feel free – go right ahead. We’ll still be here when you’ve finished.’

‘Firstly,’ said the thin one, ‘we’re
not
having a domestic, right? And secondly – who on Junk are you?’

‘I’m the Doctor, this here is Boonie, and that there – up there, yes, I know you can only see her feet – but that’s Mother.’

‘A mechanical?’

‘Yes,’ the Doctor said. ‘That OK?’

The skinny robot turned to its friend.

‘77141 didn’t say there was a mechanical involved.’

‘Ahh,’ said the Doctor as the penny dropped. ‘77141 sent you, did he? Now why aren’t I surprised at that? What’s your names, then?’

‘What
are
your—’ began the blobby one before the skinny one cut him off.

‘Oh do give it a rest, Chuck.’

‘So you’re Chuck,’ interrupted the Doctor. ‘And you would be…?’

‘I’m Crusher,’ said the thin one.

‘Nice to meet you,’ grinned the Doctor. ‘Now, you were saying… 77141 sent you, did he?’

‘Trouble in sector J, he said,’ boomed Chuck. ‘Intruders.’

‘Despatch with the utmost force,’ added Crusher. ‘That’s what he said.’

‘Oh,’ said the Doctor, almost sadly. ‘That means you’ll be wanting to kill us, won’t you?’

Crusher gave a shrug with his entire body, the metal parts screeching and grinding on each other. ‘Orders is orders.’

‘Orders—’ Chuck began but stopped as Crusher turned sharply to him.

‘OK,’ said the Doctor, not fancying another round of bickering. ‘Orders is or are orders. And what is or are those orders, exactly?’

Chuck sounded almost apologetic.

‘Kill you all, I’m afraid. Sorry about that.’

The Doctor raised his eyebrows.

‘Well, can’t say I’m too pleased about it either, but there you go. Orders is – hang on: did 77141 tell you exactly
why
you had to kill us?’

‘That lazy good-for-nothing never tells us nothing,’ grumped Crusher (and the Doctor winced at the thought of another domestic over his double negative). ‘But he
is
the boss…’

‘So we do as he says,’ Chuck finished the sentence.

‘And very right you are to,’ the Doctor said. ‘D’you mind my asking something? It’s about your names.’

‘Well, I’m Crusher,’ said the skinnier one, ‘cos I crush stuff up.’ He raised his hands and flexed the immense fingers with the creak of metal on metal and the hiss of hydraulics.

‘And I’m Chuck,’ added the fatter one, ‘cos I chuck stuff into the sun. Not the good stuff, mind,’ he added, as if the Doctor might think he were just a vandal. ‘Just the rubbish
that
no one wants.’

‘Into the sun, eh?’ said the Doctor admiringly. ‘That must take some skill.’

‘Oh it does,’ agreed Chuck, flexing his fingers. ‘People think it’s easy – they think it’s just brute force, overcoming gravity and all that. But it’s not. There’s a lot of maths involved – otherwise, it just goes into orbit or messes up the system. Gotta get it just right.’

‘And crushing isn’t as simple as it sounds,’ added Crusher, clearly feeling left out.

‘Not as hard as chucking,’ said Chuck.

‘Well, maybe,’ agreed Crusher awkwardly.

‘Ladies, ladies,’ cut in the Doctor. ‘Or gentlemen, gentlemen. I’m sure you’re both very special and very unique, and me and Boonie here are very impressed. So 77141 has given you orders to come and crush – and chuck – us, has he?’

‘Fraid so,’ said Chuck, almost regretfully.

The two of them took a mammoth step forward and the ground shook. Crusher raised his hands in front of him and flexed his fingers.

‘Who’s first, then?’ he asked.

‘Probably me,’ the Doctor said. ‘But before you start with the crushing and chucking, I don’t suppose it would make any difference if I told you what we’re doing here, would it?’

‘Shouldn’t think so,’ replied Chuck.

‘But you could always try,’ Crusher added, clearly trying to be reasonable.

The Doctor glanced at Boonie who, throughout
the
whole conversation, had hovered nervously in the shadows.

‘You ever heard of the Cult of Shining Darkness?’

‘
Those
nutters?’ laughed Chuck.

‘The anti-machine nutters?’ added Crusher. ‘The mechanet was full of stories about them a couple of years ago. Didn’t they fall apart or something?’

‘The woman leading them died, didn’t she?’ asked Chuck.

‘That’s them,’ the Doctor agreed, wincing at his own grammar and hoping it didn’t set Chuck off again.

‘So what have they got to do with you?’ asked Chuck. His voice suddenly went very growly and low and he bent forwards. ‘You’re not with them, are you?’

‘Oh no!’ exclaimed the Doctor. ‘No, not at all – in fact, we’re on the other side. The goodies, as it were. Ask Mother up there – well, when she comes down.’

Chuck straightened up slowly, but clearly wasn’t convinced.

‘But your 77141,’ the Doctor went on slowly. ‘Now he’s a different matter.’

Chuck and Crusher exchanged glances.

‘You’re kidding,’ said Chuck. ‘77141?’

The Doctor reached down and dragged a finger across some of the junk at the bottom of the closest pile before holding it up to show them the muck on it.

‘How long is it since sector J had a good clean-out?’

‘Must be at least two years,’ Chuck said, and Crusher nodded.

‘And is that at all unusual for Junk?’ asked the Doctor
casually
.

Crusher and Chuck looked at each other again.

‘Well,’ said Crusher, ‘now you come to mention it, it is a bit odd.’

‘Most stuff round here’s on a one-year rotation,’ Chuck added. ‘You know how quickly technology gets out of date. If it’s not been reclaimed or recycled in a year, me and Crusher usually get to work on it, crush it up real small and send it on a one-way cremation trip.’

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully.

‘So the fact that this particular lot of junk hasn’t been touched for so long is a wee bit suspicious, you’d say?’

The two robots swapped glances again.

‘Y’know,’ said Crusher slowly. ‘You might – and I say
might
– be onto something there. Masher, over in sector E, was going to bring the remains of a Hajaveniakii stasis chamber over here, but 77141 made him carry it all the way over to T. He wasn’t happy, I’ll tell you.’

‘So,’ said Chuck, straightening up. ‘Let me get this right, Doctor. You’re saying that that lazy lump up in the control tower is somehow in league with these daft culty types and they’ve paid him to keep people away from this sector, are you?’

‘Well, either paid him or he’s doing it out of the goodness of his heart.’

‘Paid,’ said Chuck. ‘Lagacteons don’t have hearts.’

‘Or goodness,’ added Crusher.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any proof?’ asked Chuck. ‘I mean, it’s a bit of an accusation to make, isn’t it, regardless of whether he’s a lazy, fat, heartless lump or not?’

The Doctor sighed.

‘No proof at all, I’m afraid. Not unless you count the fact that he’s clearly so worried about what we’re doing here that not only has he sent you two, but he’s sent
those
as well.’

As he spoke, the Doctor raised an arm and pointed back down the aisle.

Illuminated in the cold glow of the light spheres overhead, a tide of crawling, creeping, scuttling machines was flowing towards them.

Boonie squinted into the darkness: it was as though the ground itself were wriggling and shifting.

‘Now tell me that’s normal,’ the Doctor said, and Boonie realised he was talking to Chuck and Crusher.

‘What’s he playing at?’ whispered Crusher – although his whisper was louder than most people could shout.

‘Your boss clearly doesn’t trust you to get the job done,’ said the Doctor. ‘He’s called in reinforcements.’

‘Has he indeed?’ said Crusher in a low, serious voice. ‘Well, we’ll see about that. There’s union rules about this sort of thing.’

‘We’re not
in
a union,’ Chuck pointed out.

‘Well, maybe we should be.’ Crusher raised his head and swivelled it through 180 degrees until it was facing back towards 77141’s tower. ‘Oi!!’ he bellowed in a voice like thunder that rolled on and on and on. ‘Boss! What’s going on here?’

Seconds later, amplified by 77141’s speakers, the reply came back.

‘I gave you two bots a job to do, and instead you’re standing around gassing. You can’t carry out simple instructions? Fine! Then let these bots do it instead!’

There was a grinding, crunching groan from inside Chuck, and Boonie saw how he clenched his blobby hands.

‘I’ve told him about that,’ he muttered, gears whirring inside him. ‘We’re
not
bots. We’re mechanicals. How many times…?’

‘Calm down, pet,’ said Crusher. ‘He doesn’t mean anything by it.’

‘Don’t tell me to calm down,’ grunted Chuck. ‘And yes he does mean something by it: he means he’s too lazy to take any notice when I say I don’t like being called a
bot
.’

And with that, Chuck bent low and swiped his right hand across the ground in the path of the dozens of service and maintenance robots that were scuttling towards them, sending them tumbling and clattering into each other, bouncing end over end like kicked marbles.

‘He’s not going to like that,’ warned Crusher with a worried shake of the head.

‘Stuff whether he likes it or not. Let him have his way and, before you know it, we’ll be on the scrapheap –
literally
– and these… these
appliances
,’ he spat the word, ‘will be doing our jobs for us.’

But the little robots just kept on coming, legs clicking, caterpillar tracks whirring.

Boonie backed towards the Doctor who was looking worriedly up at Mother’s feet, still sticking out of the heap behind them.

‘We need to get out of here, Doctor,’ he whispered, hoping that Crusher and Chuck’s hearing wasn’t good enough for them to pick up his words.

The Doctor’s face fell, like a child who’s been told his holiday had been cancelled at the last minute. He was clearly enjoying it.

‘If the service bots don’t get us,’ Boonie continued urgently, ‘those two will. It’s not worth the risk.’

‘Oh, it’s always worth the risk, Boonie,’ the Doctor suddenly grinned as, emboldened by Chuck’s stance against the little robots, Crusher joined in, sweeping his freakishly long fingers along the ground and sending dozens and dozens of the little ‘appliances’ bouncing end over end. ‘This is what living’s all about – get rid of the risk, what’s the point of it all, eh?’

The two of them seemed forgotten by Crusher and Chuck as they clearly started to enjoy their battle against the little machines. Wave after wave of them clattered and clicked their way across the ground and over the bases of the piles of junk around them, like a plague of mechanical insects. But as they did, working as a perfect team, Chuck and Crusher cleared them out of the way, almost effortlessly.

‘We’re gonna get the sack for this,’ said Crusher – and glanced at Chuck.

‘I know,’ Chuck replied, laughing. ‘But you know something – I reckon it’s worth it!’

And with that, Chuck gathered up a handful of wriggling, squirming appliances, took aim, and lobbed them with frightening accuracy in the direction of 77141’s
observation
tower. Boonie held his breath for a moment – until he heard the sound of multiple crashes and bangs. As he watched, the lights of the tower wobbled and began to move, describing a slow arc as it began to topple.

‘Bullseye!’ cried Chuck, punching the air.

With a final, echoing crash, the tower hit the ground – and to everyone’s surprise, floating out of the darkness, there came the sound of cheers. Not just from one mechanical, but from dozens, all over the place.

‘Sounds like you two are heroes,’ commented the Doctor.

‘77141 always was a fat, useless lump of lard!’ laughed Crusher as he squeezed another handful of appliances until their cogs fell out. He tossed the motionless remains onto one of the piles at his side.

‘Now…’ Crusher dusted the remains of the broken machines from his fingers and bent low over the Doctor and Boonie. ‘What we gonna do with you little Squidgies?’

‘Squidgies?’ said the Doctor.

‘Sorry,’ apologised Crusher. ‘It’s what we call you organics. No offence.’

‘None taken, Crusher.’ The Doctor paused. ‘Can you tap into records of recent planet-to-ship communications?’

Crusher glanced – a little shiftily, Boonie thought – at Chuck, who was still at work flinging the last wave of robots into the air.

‘Not officially, no.’

‘OK, well, say you were to
un
officially tap into them. Just, y’know, theoretically.’

‘Yeeesss,’ said Crusher, dragging the word out.

‘And,’ continued the Doctor, pulling a face and kicking the ground with his toe, ‘say you were to check whether a certain ship currently in orbit had been speaking with 77141…’

‘Go on.’

‘Would one of those communications be about making sure that we didn’t get our hands on—’

‘He’s right!’ cried Chuck suddenly. ‘I’ve found the message! The scheming, bloated, sack of—’

Chuck was cut off by the sight of Mother, emerging from the junk mountain and holding something aloft – something huge and circular. She held it in one hand as if it weighed next to nothing as she clambered carefully down, sending a shower of debris clattering down the heap as she did so.