Free Doctor Who BBCN17 - Sick Building by Doctor Who Page A

Servo-furnishings. I made them impervious to. . . ’
    ‘It’s happening, Professor Tiermann,’ Martha told him. ‘This whole place is cracking up.’
    As if on cue, there came a great scream of terror from the direction of the kitchen. Solin jerked into action. ‘Where’s Mother?’
    The sun bed coughed and spluttered, making the ultraviolet tubes in his transparent body crackle and spark with brilliant blue light.
    He was in much worse condition than Barbara, the Doctor thought.
    He looked like he had been worn into the ground and then cast down here, into the dark recesses of the Dreamhome, once he had been deemed useless. The Doctor experienced a flash of anger, and then determination to do everything he could to help these mechanical unfortunates.
    ‘I do hate you to see me like this, in my decrepitude,’ Toaster sighed.
    ‘I wish you could have seen me in my prime.’
    ‘He was magnificent,’ sighed Barbara huskily. She was standing back and observing as the Doctor buzzed his sonic screwdriver into Toaster’s various nooks and crannies. ‘Can you fix him up with that device, Doctor? Can you help him?’
    Only superficially, the Doctor thought, as the sonic went about its busy work inside the sun bed. Only enough to get it on its feet again for a day or two. ‘I’m trying my best,’ the Doctor grinned, reassuringly.
    ‘Hmm,’ said Barbara. ‘Maybe when you’re finished you could have a little go with that gadget on my ailing parts.’
    ‘We’ll see,’ said the Doctor.
    ‘My prime!’ Toaster was waxing nostalgically. ‘Nobody could tan like me! I was like, FLASH! Instant tan. WHOOSH! That’s you done.
    Turn them over! FLAA-AA-SSHH! That side’s finished. Easy as grilling sausages! I was brilliant! I was like a supernova! FLAASSHH!’ His tubes gave an over-enthusiastic burst of light, almost blinding the Doctor. ‘Oh, sorry about that. . . ’
    The Doctor laughed and switched off the screwdriver. ‘I reckon I’m done. That’ll get you back on your feet, Toaster.’
    58

    The sun bed flexed his four short legs as the Doctor stepped back.
    ‘I believe you’re right, Doctor! Brilliant! I feel like a new man! Right!
    What next? What do we do now? I’m bursting with energy! This is brilliant! You – er – don’t fancy a tan, do you, Doctor?’
    The Doctor considered it for a second. ‘No thanks, you’re all right.
    I think our first priority is getting off this level, don’t you?’
    Barbara moaned happily. ‘Oh, yes. Oh, say you can do it, Doctor.
    Say you can get us out of here. . . ’
    ‘I’m not sure yet,’ the Doctor said. ‘But there’s bound to be a way, isn’t there?’
    ‘Even if that way isn’t up,’ Toaster suddenly said. He gave a sparking flash of blue light. ‘Er, that was a flash of inspiration.’
    ‘What do you mean, Toaster?’ asked Barbara.
    ‘We might have to go down, in order to get up,’ Toaster said.
    ‘I thought this was the lowest level,’ frowned the Doctor. ‘Level Minus Thirty-Nine.’
    ‘There is a lower level,’ Toaster said. ‘And that’s where we might find help.’
    ‘Help?’ said the Doctor.
    ‘Who from?’ asked Barbara. ‘You don’t mean from. . . ’
    ‘From the Domovoi,’ Toaster said. ‘She’ll help us, surely.’
    Solin was the first to reach the kitchen area. When he got there, he couldn’t take in what was happening at first. He was so unused to technology failing and going wrong. The lights were flickering, which cast the room into fits of gloom. His mother had backed herself up against the glass doors at the far end of the room and she was sobbing uncontrollably.
    She couldn’t tell the Servo-furnishings what to do. There were three of them, in the three standard sizes, going about their business in the centre of the room. One was feeding Amanda’s pills to the kitchen sink; and the other two were taking pieces of china out of one of the cupboards and carefully smashing them on the tiled floor, Just to add to