Doctor Who: The Also People

289 Pages·1996·1.13 MB·English

by  Aaronovitch Ben

THE ALSO PEOPLE

DOCTOR WHO – THE NEW ADVENTURES
Also available:
TIMEWYRM: GENESYS by John Peel
TIMEWYRM: EXODUS by Terrance Dicks TIMEWYRM: APOCALYPSE
by Nigel Robinson TIMEWYRM: REVELATION by Paul Cornell CAT'S
CRADLE: TIME'S CRUCIBLE by Marc Platt CAT'S CRADLE: WARHEAD by
Andrew Cartmel CAT'S CRADLE: WITCH MARK by Andrew Hunt
NIGHTSHADE by Mark Gatiss
LOVE AND WAR by Paul Cornell
TRANSIT by Ben Aaronovitch
THE HIGHEST SCIENCE by Gareth Roberts THE PIT by Neil Penswick
DECEIT by Peter Darvill-Evans
LUCIFER RISING by Jim Mortimore and Andy Lane WHITE DARKNESS
by David A. Mclntee SHADOWMIND by Christopher Bulis BIRTHRIGHT by
Nigel Robinson
ICEBERG by David Banks
BLOOD HEAT by Jim Mortimore
THE DIMENSION RIDERS by Daniel Blythe THE LEFT-HANDED
HUMMINGBIRD by Kate Orman CONUNDRUM by Steve Lyons
NO FUTURE by Paul Cornell
TRAGEDY DAY by Gareth Roberts
LEGACY by Gary Russell
THEATRE OF WAR by Justin Richards ALL-CONSUMING FIRE by Andy
Lane BLOOD HARVEST by Terrance Dicks STRANGE ENGLAND by Simon
Messingham FIRST FRONTIER by David A. Mclntee ST ANTHONY'S FIRE
by Mark Gatiss FALLS THE SHADOW by Daniel O'Mahony PARASITE by
Jim Mortimore
WARLOCK by Andrew Cartmel
SET PIECE by Kate Orman
INFINITE REQUIEM by Daniel Blythe SANCTUARY by David A.
McIntee
HUMAN NATURE by Paul Cornell
ORIGINAL SIN by Andy Lane
SKY PIRATES! by Dave Stone
ZAMPER by Gareth Roberts
TOY SOLDIERS by Paul Leonard
HEAD GAMES by Steve Lyons

THE ALSO PEOPLE
Ben Aaronovitch

First published in Great Britain in 1995 by Doctor Who Books
an imprint of Virgin Publishing Ltd
332 Ladbroke Grove
London W10 5AH
Copyright @ Ben Aaronovitch 1995
The right of Ben Aaronovitch to be identified as the Author of this Work has
been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act
1988.
'Doctor Who' series copyright © British Broadcasting Corporation 1995
Cover illustration by Tony Masero ISBN 0 426 20456 5
Typeset by Gal eon Typeset ing, Ipswich Printed and bound in Great Britain
by Mackays Paperbacks Ltd.
Al characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shal not, by way of trade or
otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the
publisher's prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that
in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition
being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Scanned by The Camel

THE ALSO PEOPLE
Acknowledgements ...................................................................................... 7
Notes on the Pronunciation of Proper Nouns ............................................... 8
Prologue ....................................................................................................... 9
1 Delete Where Applicable ........................................................................ 11
2 Life's A Beach ......................................................................................... 22
Hyper-lude .............................................................................................. 34
3 Party Games .......................................................................................... 36
4 Policeman on the Corner ........................................................................ 47
Hyper-lude .............................................................................................. 56
5 Al the Answers ....................................................................................... 58
6 Faces in the Water ................................................................................. 71
Hyper-lude .............................................................................................. 81
7 Screaming for Ice Cream ....................................................................... 83
Hyper-lude .............................................................................................. 96
8 Gardens of Stone ................................................................................... 97
Hyper-lude .............................................................................................. 107
9 Cult Status .............................................................................................. 109
10 Unsmiling in the Darkness ......................................................................
123
Hyper-lude .............................................................................................. 135
11 Tears of Rust ..........................................................................................
136
12 Travel ing Man Blues ..............................................................................
148
Epilogue .......................................................................................................
157
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Kate Orman for reminding me how much fun this is.
Rebecca and Peter for putting up with my total lack of grammar, punctuation,
spelling and my somewhat loose perception of linear time as it pertains to
deadlines. Nick Chatwin and Muhmud Quayum for their help. And my family
for their support. I'd like to remind everyone that while talent borrows and
genius steals, New Adventure writers get it off the back of a lorry, no questions
asked.

Notes on the Pronunciation of Proper Nouns
!x is an aspirated consonant pronounced by clicking the side of the tongue
against upper right-hand teeth.
!q is an aspirated consonant pronounced by 'clucking' the tongue.
!c is an aspirated consonant pronounced by placing the tongue against the
front teeth and sucking them explosively back.
a is pronounced ah as in car.
e is pronounced eh as in leg.
i is pronounced ee as in leek or keep.
o is pronounced like the a in walk.
u is pronounced oo as in look or cook.
Stress is on the second syllable from last: aM!xitsa is pronounced am- !xit-
sah; saRa!qava is pronounced sah-rah- !qah-vah.
I have chosen to use the simplified (personal) versions of people's names
throughout the text as the more complex (use) designations would be
cumbersome and serve little purpose. An example is the drone aM!xitsa, whose
use designation incorporates the diminutive of his construction point and
generation; thus: aM!xit-i!xa!xi-sa!Qa!cisa.
To avoid meaningless and ugly neologisms and to avoid unnecessary
descriptions I have translated certain commonplace nouns into their closest
English equivalents; thus: hours, minutes, days, months, monkeys, apple trees,
caramel, coffee, chocolate, pastries, etc.
To avoid further confusion I have rendered all Xhosa, Themne, Shona,
Martian and Gallifreyan words in their accepted English forms.
One further note: in order to err on the side of political correctness I refer to
Indigenous Terrans rather than Earth Reptiles or the archaic Silurians.
Prologue
According to the old women there had once been a Leopard that fell into a
trap. She lay there in the bottom of the trap, her powerful body bruised and sore.
It was hot and dusty. She felt miserable.
'Let me out of this trap,' the Leopard cried. 'Let me out!'
But nobody came to let her out. All the other animals were afraid of the
Leopard and were secretly glad that she might die. After many hours a woman
walked past the trap. The woman had a kind face and smiled when she met
people on her travels.
'Let me out, let me out,' the Leopard whimpered, her voice weak with thirst
and captivity, the bruises on her body throbbing with pain.
The woman walked over to the trap. When she saw the Leopard inside she
was frightened.
'Let me out,' called the Leopard, pathetic in her misery. 'If you do not let me
out I will soon die.'
The woman looked down at the Leopard for a long time. She had travelled
far and wide in the world and knew that leopards were the most dangerous of
animals. More cunning than Chief Lion who was lazy and let his wives hunt for
him. Stronger than cousin Cheetah who ran like lightning but for only a small
distance. More vicious even than sister Panther who could smell the wind and
run for ever. 'If I let you out of the trap,' called the woman to the Leopard, 'will
you promise me one thing?'
'Whatever you want,' replied the Leopard, 'only let me out of this trap.'
'You must promise that you will not harm me once I release you,' said the
woman. 'You are a powerful animal. Your sharp claws could tear me to pieces.'
'I will not harm you,' promised the Leopard. 'I want only my freedom.'
The woman pulled away the branches which covered the trap and bent down
to help the Leopard out.
'Aha!' roared the Leopard as she stretched her powerful body. The woman
watched fearfully as strong muscles rippled under the Leopard's fur. 'How
hungry I feel now that I am out of that dreadful place. Soon I must eat my
supper.' She looked at the woman. 'You, my friend, will be my supper.'
When the woman heard those words she trembled with fear. 'You promised
that you would not harm me. Let me go. It is late in the day and my friends have
brewed beer for me. Tonight we are giving thanks to our ancestors and the
village relies on me to talk to the dead for them.'
The Leopard laughed. 'You fool,' she snarled, 'you should not have believed
me. Now that I am outside the trap there is no reason why I should keep my
promise. Now, however, I am going to have a short rest. Do not worry about
your ancestors, for once I have finished my sleep I shall send you to meet them
directly.'
The woman looked round desperately for help. A short distance away she
saw a small Musasa Tree.
'Musasa Tree,' she called, 'help me to escape this ungrateful Leopard. I let her
out of the trap and now she wants to eat me for her supper.'
The Musasa Tree grew angry at the woman's words. 'Why should I help
you?' she replied.
'You've never done anything to help me. Every day I shade you from the hot
sun and keep your house cool and pleasant. Yet all you want to do is cut me
down and use me as firewood.'
The woman sighed unhappily. She knew that what the Musasa Tree had said
was true. Sadly the woman turned away, searching the veldt for something that
might help her.
Her gaze fell upon the Path, along which she had walked.
'Nzira,' she called the path by name, 'help me to escape from this horrible
Leopard.'

But Nzira was even angrier than Musasa Tree. 'I will not help you. What
have you ever done to help me? I give you safe passage through the forest, but
all you ever do is kick me with your heavy feet and press me further into the
ground.'
The woman sighed again because she knew that Nzira was speaking the
truth. Then she remembered the River who was called Rwizi.
'Rwizi,' she called, 'help me escape from this evil Leopard who promises to
eat me for her supper.'
But Rwizi would not help her. 'Think of everything I do for you,' said Rwizi.
'I give you water to grow your crops. I bring water for your cattle to drink in the
evening. Yet all you do is use me to wash your dirty body and your soiled
clothes.'
The woman sighed for the third time for she knew that Rwizi was speaking
the truth.
Finally, in desperation she called upon the spirit of her Grandmother.
'Mbuya,' she called to the heavens, 'save me from this wicked Leopard.'
'I cannot save you,' replied the spirit of her grandmother. 'You should have
listened more carefully to the stories I told you as a child. The Leopard is not
wicked, she is only being what she is. It is in her nature to eat when she is
hungry, to kill when she is threatened. You should have remembered this before
you released her.'
On hearing this the woman fell to her knees and covered her face with her
hands. Bitter tears fell from between her fingers and watered the earth.
Just then a small sprightly animal came hurrying through the forest. He had
long narrow ears and a small bushy tail. It was Tsuro the Hare.
'Whatever is the problem?' asked Tsuro when she saw the woman weeping.
'Why are you looking so miserable on this lovely day?'
The woman told him about the Leopard whom she had released from the trap
and how it was planning to eat her for supper.
'Hmm,' said Tsuro after hearing the story. 'What you have told me may very
well be true. But I must hear what the Leopard says about the matter.
'Leopard,' called Tsuro. 'I've been told that you fell into this trap. Is that so?'
'Yes, it is true,' agreed the Leopard, flexing her paws so that each of her
claws extruded one after another. The woman, seeing this, edged behind Tsuro.
'O clever Hare,' she whispered, 'I hope you know what you are doing.'
Tsuro ignored her and asked the Leopard whether it was true that she had
promised not to harm the woman.
'Yes,' said the Leopard, 'but there is no reason why I should keep my
promise. After all, her brothers dug the trap into which I fell. And they are the
ones who always shout at me and then try to kill me when I am anywhere near
their village.'
'I see,' replied Tsuro, scratching his head thoughtfully. 'So it was the woman's
brothers who dug the trap into which you fell. And you were lying there, right at
the bottom of the trap when the woman came and let you out. Now, I would like
you to show me how it happened.'
'That's easy,' said the Leopard, happy to find someone who understood her
situation. She jumped down into the trap. 'I was lying like this . . .' Scarcely had
she begun when, quickly, Tsuro pulled the branches across the top of the trap.
'Let me out, let me out,' cried the Leopard. 'If you let me out of the trap I
promise not to harm anybody ever again.'
Tsuro turned to the woman.
'Well,' he asked, 'are you going to let her out?'

1
Delete Where Applicable
I get so weary following this old road
It don't go nowhere but damnation
When I turn around what do I find?
Got evil in my bones and bad luck following behind.
'Travelling Man Blues', singer unknown
Recorded: Mama Stanley's Chicken Shack, Clanton.
Alabama (1937)
The man is standing on the roof of the villa which itself is built on the crest
of a hill overlooking the sea. A storm is racing in from the ocean, black
streamers of cloud are unfurling towards the coast. The wind has become brisk,
filling the man's nostrils with the stink of ozone and salt. He opens his arms wide
as if to embrace the oncoming wind, as if the storm has been laid on for his
entertainment alone. The air is heavy with the promise of lightning. Growing
stronger now, the wind plucks at the man's robe and lifts strands of his blond
hair. He is smiling, a wide infectious grin that exposes white teeth that are just
slightly too sharp for comfort.
Around him he senses but cannot see the great sphere of the world rising all
around him.
Above him an immovable sun dims in accordance with a strict timetable, its
gorgeous twilight hue a precise and machine-modulated bandwidth of the
electromagnetic spectrum. He knows that people have built this world, have
chained the sun to do their bidding. Knows that people built the planet that hangs
blue, green and impossible over a horizon that doesn't exist. That the horizon is
in reality only a sensory illusion, a DNA-encoded perception, a legacy from the
first things to crawl up that Devonian Beach and look at the sky.
The storm is real, he can sense that. Even the people who built this place,
people whom he has not yet but is dying to meet, know that life can be made too
comfortable. That without the sublime, without danger we will grow sickly and
die by degrees. So they have let this storm boil itself up out of the endless ocean