Gia frowned at the department store as if it had insulted her family, intelligence, people skills and dress sense. "This," she said, "is boring." "Didn't you do Boredom Management Techniques at mind-training school?" Zoe asked. Gia shook her head. "I took Advanced Anger Control instead." "Pity. I suppose I could try and teach you some of it now." "I'm not in the mood. And I still don't see why we have to stand around while the Doctor's off having fun." "He is not having fun, he's working on a biological countermeasure to this shop." Zoe furrowed her brow. "'Shop' isn't a very descriptive word for this phenomenon, is it? And 'presumed hostile pseudo-lifeform' is a bit unwieldy." "Vampstore," Gia said offhandedly. "Anyway, creating biological weapons certainly counts as fun compared to standing about out here doing nothing." "We've still got to stay here, so we can warn people not to go in." Gia scowled. "I suppose so." "Do you want me to teach you any of those techniques?" "No, I'll just have to cope." "We could play Spot the Difference," Zoe said. "That poster's changed since we got here." "It has?" Gia closed her eyes and thought back. "You're right." Zoe looked slightly put out. "Of course I'm right." "That table lamp was lime green, and now, well, it's more bluish. Turquoisey. Aquamarine." Gia shook her head again. "Still hideous. I'm not going to spend all afternoon looking at that. It would drive me mad." "Do you have any better ideas?" Gia glanced around. "I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with W..." Victoria and Samantha surveyed the circular chamber, their eyes wide. This place was built with the same components, for want of a better word, as the public areas of the shop; each element was identifiable and familiar, but all were combined in a manner that looked queasily biological. In the centre, for example, was what looked like one of the paying desks, except that it was circular rather than straight. From the top of this, a number of poles appeared to be growing, their height and spacing irritatingly irregular. Each pole was topped by a ring of chrome-plated steel, from which coathangers dangled: the kind of rack on which jackets might normally be displayed. Cash registers protruded from the desk at random angles, like misaligned teeth. By the same token, the tall cabinets round the walls looked as if they belonged in the food hall, holding nothing more sinister than ready meals. But a quick glance at the nearest one had been enough to show that this was not the case. It was filled with a cloudy purplish liquid, in which floated what appeared to be the body of a young woman wearing the shop's uniform. "That's what Isobel had on, last time I saw her," Samantha said. "Do you think she might be in one of these things?" "I hope not. But now you've said it..." "We have to look in them all, just in case." "Right." They made the tour of the room, carefully stepping over the transparent plastic tubes and skeins of wire that ran between the central desk and the walls. Most of the cabinets contained people, either checkout assistants or security guards, but a few were empty. Isobel and Jamie were nowhere to be seen. They'd spotted Corannahowmayihelpyou about a third of the way round -- it wasn't easy to recognise her in the purple liquid, but her namebadge was legible. Once they'd made sure the place didn't contain their friends, they returned to the cabinet that contained her. "D'you think we can get her out?" Samantha wondered. "I don't know. But why would you want to?" "Because I want to know what's going on. If they've got all these people in jars, why do they want Isobel working for them? Sounds funny to me. And maybe if we ask her hard enough, she'll tell us how we can get them back." "I hope you are not going to be nasty to her, Samantha." "Depends if she talks, doesn't it? Anyway, we need to get her out of there first." They turned their attention to the cabinet. There was no obvious lock, and the door resisted an experimental tug on the handle. "Perhaps you have to drain whatever that stuff is first," Victoria suggested. "So it doesn't pour out all over the floor." "I s'pose so." Samantha glanced at the cabinet. "What about this?" 'This' was a red button, the sort of thing you'd expect to see as the emergency stop control on an escalator. It wasn't so much attached to the cabinet as erupting from it, as a fungus might from a rotten tree. "I think I've developed a distinct mistrust of large, obvious red buttons," Victoria said. "Who knows what that could do?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realised that was precisely the wrong thing to say. Samantha would do almost anything if she thought someone else was afraid to. "Scared?" Samantha asked, with the predictability of night following day. "Well, I'm not." She pushed the button. The cabinet shuddered, and the level of the liquid began to fall. But as it drained away, it didn't leave the sales attendant behind. Rather, she slowly sank with the liquid, losing her form as she did so, until all that was left was a shapeless bundle of clothes at the bottom of the tank. Victoria wordlessly pulled on the cabinet door, which swung open easily. Side by side, she and Samantha knelt down and examined its contents. The heap lay on the metal grille that served the cabinet as a floor, and on closer examination it consisted of a polyester dress, leggings, shoes, flesh- coloured gloves, and a beautifully moulded hollow plastic head. Samantha picked this last item up and stared into its perfect, inhuman face. "That's just so weird," she said. "It doesn't look like her at all, but at the same time it does... I think I'm gonna be sick." She threw the head to the ground and stumbled away, one hand over her mouth. "Samantha, be careful!" Victoria called, but too late. Samantha had already caught her foot in one of the cables that stretched across the room, and as she fell headlong it pulled free from the central desk with a revoltingly organic plop. The reaction was immediate. The room filled with a painful vibration, sensed not so much as sound or movement but as repeated, agonising, headache pangs. Victoria, even as she hurried over to help Samantha, felt her flesh begin to crawl and the hairs on her neck standing on end. Samantha staggered to her feet, rubbing her elbow. "That really hurts," she said, and seemed to become aware that there were more things wrong with their situation than a bruised arm. "What's going on?" "Trouble," Victoria said briefly. "We've got to get out of here." As fast as they could, they picked their way to the door, and had almost reached it when it flew open with a crash, revealing a familiar figure dressed in the uniform of a store detective. They stopped dead. "Jamie," they whispered, in unison. Liz bent over her petri dishes, trying to ignore the sound of improvised recorder music. "I'm getting good results with the latest samples," she said. "We should be able to synthesize a suitable poison quite quickly. Nyssa, how are you getting on?" "It's a fascinating study in biology," Nyssa replied. "I wish I could work out this thing's life cycle. These snowglobes don't appear to be eggs so much as some kind of sense organ." "You base that on your dissections?" "Partly. And partly on the fact that I forced a little one down Adric's throat two hours ago and a shopping trolley didn't burst out of his stomach." "So if you're right about them being sense organs, that shop is in some way aware of what's going on in his guts?" Liz pulled a face. "Rather it than me." The recorder solo broke off with a discordant screech. "Just a moment." The Doctor jumped to his feet. "Someone's coming." The door was flung open, and Francois strode into the room. "Bossman say, when can he have kitchen back?" he demanded. "Now, please, if you would only listen--" "Francois doing little else all afternoon. And Francois wish to say that recorder playing not to Ogron taste." He grabbed the Doctor's coat with one massive hand, and lifted him clean off the floor. "Francois give you thirty minutes before Charlotte needing kitchen. If Charlotte not get kitchen by then, Charlotte seriously annoyed. And wise Ogron once say, 'Never to be letting chef get annoyed.' Clear?" He lowered the Doctor to the ground. The Doctor pulled his coat straight. "Definitely," he replied. Jamie advanced on Victoria and Samantha, his face expressionless. "You two need to come with me," he said. His accent seemed fainter than usual, and his choice of words less idiomatic. "Fat chance." Samantha backed away slightly. "You're away with the fairies, like Victoria said. What've they done to you?" "You shouldn't be here," Jamie countered. "Trespassers will be prosecuted." "Jamie, listen to me!" Samantha tried to slap his face, but he caught her arm before the blow landed. "Don't worry," he said, almost gently. "There's nothing to be afraid of." "Victoria, run!" Samantha shouted. Jamie's head snapped round, but while his attention had been focused on Samantha, Victoria had edged away, and was through the door before he could stop her. While he was off balance, Samantha pulled out of his grasp, threw herself to one side, grabbed as many cables as she could find, and tugged hard on the lot. They pulled loose, with more vile organic noises. The pulsating headache exploded into blinding pain, and her vision blurred momentarily. She looked up, into Jamie's tortured face. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and ran for it. "I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with U." "UNIT," Zoe said, not missing a beat. "And about time too, if I may say so." Gia and Zoe took a few steps back as the jeep screeched to a halt in front of the shop. From the rear emerged Sergeant Benton and three privates, while Captain Munro climbed down from the front. "Afternoon, ladies," he said. "Carry on, Sergeant." "Sir!" Benton saluted, and turned to his men. "Get those barriers out, now." With practiced efficiency, the UNIT men began to erect a barricade across the entrance to the shop. Warning signs hung from the barriers: a red triangle, containing a stylised figure of a man with tentacles where his head should be, and the caption ELDRITCH ABOMINATION. "Captain?" Gia asked. "Is there any word from the Doctor?" Munro shook his head. "I'm afraid not, miss," he said. "For now, we've just got to keep an eye on this phenomenon." "And a fat lot of good that'll do," Gia grumbled. "If this thing can deposit snowglobes in shops all over Nameless, do you think a few barriers would dissuade it?" "They might keep innocent parties out of harm's way, though." "Yes, I suppose so. Thank you, Captain." She waited until the Captain's attention was diverted elsewhere, and then drew Zoe to one side. "You heard what he said. They'll be keeping people out." Zoe looked slyly up at her. "So we don't have to do that any more." "Exactly." "You're thinking of doing something rash, aren't you?" "Might be." Zoe grinned. "Whatever it is, count me in." "I thought, if we got hold of some electrified cattle prods--" The shop door was flung open. For a moment, Samantha could be glimpsed, struggling between two men in green uniforms and peaked caps. "Help me, someone!" she shouted, and was dragged back in. Gia and Zoe exchanged glances, vaulted over the barrier, and disappeared into the shop before the UNIT troops could react. Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8
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