"And that's it?" Liz asked. Victoria nodded. She felt as if she'd been answering questions for hours, at first standing outside the shop, then sitting in the back of a UNIT jeep. The store looked outwardly unchanged, its exterior surface showing no signs of the damage that she'd seen inside. When she'd first escaped, there had been smoke pouring from the upper windows, but by now it had died down to a sullen plume. "Right, then." The Doctor rubbed his hands. "That all seems quite clear, doesn't it?" "I think so," Nyssa said. "What we have here is an opportunistic predator. It attempts to copy the stock of shops in the area, tempt the public in, and enslave them." "But what about that perfume counter girl?" asked Victoria. "Do you mean she was enslaved and the shop... took her insides out somehow?" "No, I suspect that the store manufactures its own staff, at least at first, until it can kidnap enough real people. The way you describe things, they'd have a limited lifespan, so it wouldn't be very effective with just them, and it would want to hang onto any proper people it could." "And what was going on in the basement?" "I can't be sure, but I suspect you saw the remains of some of the shops it had eaten." "It really does eat other shops?" Nyssa shrugged. "It makes as much sense as the rest of the theory." "If you're right, then those other retailers were right to be concerned," Liz said. "The Master being right. Who'd have thought it?" "It does happen," the Doctor said. "Just much less often than he likes to think. Though he'd probably have been fairly satisfied if he'd sent us into the shop and it had eaten us all. Now, Victoria, I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but do you think you could bear to come back in there with me?" "Oh, must I?" "I'm afraid so. You see, we've managed to mix up something which we think will put an end to this shop--" "With about four seconds to spare," Liz added drily. "Otherwise Francois would probably have made us drink the stuff ourselves." "But it's not just a matter of throwing it on. We have to find its nerve centre, or the nearest equivalent it has. And that's where you come in. We need to find out where Isobel wanted to take you." Victoria felt her heart sinking. "You mean you want to let the store capture me again, and see where it takes me?" "That's right." The Doctor patted her shoulder. "You see, you're the only person who can help. Everyone else who's been in the store is either still in there, or under medical observation." "Then I don't have much alternative, do I?" Victoria rose to her feet, and began to climb down from the jeep. "Well done, Victoria," the Doctor said, preparing to follow suit. Curiously, it felt completely different being in the store when the Doctor was there with her. It wasn't so much that Victoria felt any safer -- bearing in mind the Doctor's plan, she was probably in even more danger than before -- but she didn't have to worry about what to do. It made her feel quite light-headed. The immediate problem, though, was finding someone to capture Victoria in the first place. As far as they could see, the ground floor was completely deserted, and in a somewhat more chaotic state than before. From the look of the floor, it had been flooded at some point with dirty water, which had since largely evaporated. Several of the display stands were scorched or overturned. The Doctor glanced at the store guide. "Customer Services," he said. "Let's try there." Customer Services, when they got there, consisted of nothing more than another counter, no different from any other in the shop apart from a sign. It also resembled the others in being completely unmanned. The Doctor, who seemed to be throwing himself into the role of an infuriated customer, hammered on the desk. "Come on, come on!" he shouted. "I can't wait all day for you lazyboneses to get your act together. Look at this hideous thing." "Doctor, you're pointing at me," Victoria whispered. "I mean your jumper, Victoria, not you." "Oh." She raised her voice and joined in the act. "It's your fault my dress got torn. Where's my compensation?" Jamie emerged from a nearby doorway. "I'm sorry you were kept waiting," he said. "What seems to be the problem?" He crossed to the desk. Before he could get behind it, the Doctor intercepted him and put an arm round his shoulders. "The problem is what your shop has done to Victoria's clothes," he said. "Look at her." "And I had to pay for this," Victoria added. "You should be paying me." "She demands to speak to your supervisor." Jamie nodded. "Is that so? Then you'd better..." He broke off, looking in bewilderment at his hands. "Jamie?" Victoria asked. "Is something the matter?" "No, it's nothing. I just thought I had-- Well, never mind." Behind him, the Doctor triumphantly held up Jamie's pricing gun, and winked at Victoria. "Anyway," Jamie said. "You'd better come with me." He took hold of Victoria's wrist, and led her firmly away. The Doctor waited a little to give him a head start, then dropped the pricing gun, crushed it underfoot, and followed. Their route took them through a network of tunnels and open spaces, starting off with what appeared to be perfectly normal, if empty, stockrooms. But as they penetrated further, the pretence at retail architecture was dropped; corridors gave way to pulsating, irregular ducts, fleshy tubes replaced electrical conduits, and such light as there was came from what looked like patches of luminous mould. There were occasional rumbling or grinding sounds, as if some large creature was gnawing on bones nearby. As they passed down a long and gently curving tube, Victoria felt her head begin to throb again. She looked over her shoulder, but all she saw was that four of the store detectives were shadowing them, looking spookily identical and inhuman in the half-light. Of the Doctor, there was no sign. When she looked forward again, the end of the tunnel was now in sight. An orange-red light, brighter if only by comparison, was shining from it, and elaborate organic shapes could be glimpsed. As they came closer, the view became more and more complicated, until finally she and Jamie emerged from the duct and could see it all. The space they found themselves in was roughly cylindrical, perhaps fifteen feet high. In the centre, a column ran from floor to ceiling, composed of thousands of braided fibres. At the top and the base, these branched out, running like networks of roots overhead and underfoot. Every other surface was dotted with irregular collections of vegetable matter, something like giant broccoli and something like solidified pieces of foam, surrounded by gently waving fronds. For a moment, Victoria felt as if she was standing under a blotchy purple and orange oak tree, surrounded by hundreds of distorted bushes. Jamie pushed her closer to the central pillar. As he did so, bunches of the fibres on the side closer to her began to disentangle themselves from each other, and reached out eagerly towards her. "Now just lean against the stem and relax," Jamie said patiently. Victoria tried to pull free. "Doctor, help me!" There was no sign of the Doctor. One of the detectives stepped forward and took her left arm, forcing her closer to the centre of the room. She turned to Jamie, who had a similar grip on her right arm. "Jamie," she pleaded. "Don't do this. It's me, Victoria. Please let me go. You know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me." "The process doesn't hurt," was Jamie's only reply. The reaching tentacles were almost on Victoria now. She closed her eyes, dreading that at any moment razor-sharp fibres would begin to burrow into her flesh. Instead, there was a revolting-sounding wet thud, and the detective holding her left arm let go with a cry. A moment later, Jamie's grip relaxed, and Victoria, suddenly not pulling against anything, fell backwards onto an empty uniform. She looked up, to see Samantha, a cricket bat in one hand and a spool of steel wire in the other, hurrying over to where Jamie was now trying to fend off Zoe's best judo moves. Victoria looked down, and realised she was lying on what was left of the detective who'd been holding her. Like the girl in the cabinet, he'd been reduced to a pile of clothes, a mask, and a pool of liquid. "Victoria," Zoe called to her. "Are there any handcuffs in that lot?" Victoria searched in the heap. "I can't find any." "Why is nothing ever simple? Could you-- Samantha, run!" As the three other detectives bore down on them, Samantha and Zoe darted away, Samantha taking the opportunity to bash various parts of the room with her cricket bat. Each blow brought forth an answering twinge in Victoria's headache, but she jumped to her feet and was quick to follow suit. "Now what?" Samantha asked. "Just keep running round and round the room?" "If necessary, yes," Zoe said. "But I think we can do better. One of us can distract the guards while the others set a tripw-- hey!" Jamie had crept up behind her and picked her up bodily. As he tried to carry her to where the central stem was still greedily reaching out, Victoria and Samantha threw themselves on him. Another detective tried to grab Samantha; she lashed out wildly with her cricket bat and he disintegrated with a wail. "Did *that* one have handcuffs?" Samantha asked, still trying to pull Jamie away from Zoe. Victoria rummaged through the empty uniform. "Here you are." "Great. Now help me get them on Jamie." As Samantha and Zoe handcuffed Jamie and tied his legs tied together using the detective's trousers, Victoria looked around. The remaining two guards were approaching her, batons in their hands and determination on their faces. She looked around for the bat, but it was too far away. She couldn't even run, because that would leave the others at the guards' mercy. Suddenly, the sonic screwdriver whirred, its mechanical sound totally out of place in this dim, organic world. It was followed by two simultaneous damp detonations, two despairing cries, and two piles of clothes hitting the floor. "Well, now," the Doctor said, stepping over the remains of the detectives. "What brings you two here?" "Us?" Samantha asked. "Long story." "Statistical analysis," Zoe added helpfully. "We started fires in various parts of the shop, and worked out how long it took before it reacted. I reasoned that the shorter the time, the closer we were to the central processing unit. How did you find it?" The Doctor smiled. "I let Jamie lead me to it. Quite straightforward." "Oh. Why didn't I think of that?" "You're not ruthless enough," Victoria said. "Now, Victoria," the Doctor said. "You didn't come to any harm in the event, did you?" "Only because we happened to be here," Samantha said. "Anyway, what d'you think we should do about this thing?" "Presumably you had a plan?" "I thought we could use this wire to cut through the central core," Zoe said. "You know, like cheesewire. We originally picked it up to set tripwires and tie up guards, but it's proved very versatile." "That might work." The Doctor favoured her with a triumphant smile. "But I think this poison will be considerably easier to deliver." From inside his coat, he produced an old-fashioned brass garden syringe, its handle fully extended. "You'd better wait for me by that tunnel," he said. "And don't forget to bring Jamie. I wouldn't like you to leave him behind by accident." "Really, Doctor!" Samantha said. Together, the three of them dragged Jamie, who struggled against them every step of the way, to the duct by which Victoria had been brought in. They looked back, to see the Doctor spraying the contents of his syringe over the central bundle of fibres. The liquid sizzled on contact. "You know," Victoria said. "I'm surprised every guard in the store hasn't come running here by now." "Yeah, well, Pyromaniac Girl here probably has something to do with that," Samantha said. "There are some interesting applications of table lamps and plug-in timers," Zoe added. "I don't think whatever controls this store is very bright. As soon as a fire breaks out somewhere everyone rushes to put it out. And I'm not a pyromaniac." "I s'pose not. It doesn't have to be fire, does it, as long as you're trashing something?" "Oh, *Samantha!*" The pulsating in Victoria's head suddenly flared, and stopped. Jamie went briefly rigid, and then nearly collapsed. As he regained his balance, he looked at them in bewilderment. "Hey," he said. "What's going on?" At the same moment, the Doctor pushed the plunger on his syringe triumphantly home, and raced back to the group. "Jamie," he said. "How are you?" "Och, just fine, Doctor. Why have these lassies got me tied up?" "You've been under the shop's control, Jamie. Can someone untie him, please?" Victoria knelt down and freed Jamie's feet. But they quickly discovered that no-one had a key to the handcuffs on his wrists. "I could go back and search the guards' bodies," Zoe suggested. "Well, not bodies, but you know what I mean." "We haven't got time," the Doctor said. "We need to get out of here at once." He set out at a brisk pace along the tunnel. Already the light seemed dimmer, and the background noises more ominous. "Then I suggest we don't take the lift," Zoe said, giving chase. "Or the escalator," Samantha added, following close behind. Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7 - Part 8
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