Dreamscape by Robert Powell

Part Two.

A tiny sound, barely audible in the depths of sub-consciousness, awoke Nyssa. She started, sitting up in her bed, trying to recall what it had been, ears tingling in an attempt to register the echoes of the sound.
As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, she heard the sound again - unmistakable this time. The sound of footsteps.
"Doctor?" she asked in the direction of the door, tense, waiting for a response.
None came.
A strange sensation of paranoia crept into her and, dressing quickly, she looked around for a weapon.
A weapon, she thought. Why do I need a weapon?
This was irrational. She stood still, taking a deep breath before straightening her Traken tunic and opening the door.

The TARDIS corridor was dark and shadowy outside, the illumination turned low. This served only to heighten the strange sense of insecurity she felt, for while this was not uncommon, the shadows seemed to make it all the more sinister.
The console room was similarly enclosed in darkness, the roundels producing a dull, almost yellowish light. This was certainly a rare occurrence - normally the Doctor was here all the time. The console itself showed no particular readings, save that they had landed.
"How very odd," muttered Nyssa to herself. "Why would he go out without me?" She turned the scanner control.
The scanner showed trees illuminated by moonlight - a breeze made the limbs sway a little, and Nyssa imagined a rustling sound. She shivered instinctively.
"This is not good," she murmured. "Something's wrong. Where are you, Doctor?"
The TARDIS doors swung open of their own accord as she decided to leave. She paused, halfway towards the door control, eyes darting between the doors and the console.
"Doctor!" she cried out again, true fear stabbing at her chest.
"Keep calm," she said to herself, "just keep calm." She walked through the doors.

Nyssa stepped out onto a gravel driveway, the crunch of her footsteps was the only sound louder than the rustle of the trees as they swayed in the cool night breeze.
Just as she had imagined.
A night bird hooted in the darkness, but she anticipated it and did not jump. The gravel path continued further into the darkness.
Nyssa felt unsafe where she was standing, and began to walk down the path, her legs dead and heavy.

She could hear the creature behind her. It had been stalking her ever since... "Doctor?" she called out around her. "Is this some joke? Doctor?"
There was a rustle in the undergrowth to her left. A rabbit hopped out. It's eyes were bright in the moonlight, wide and fearful. Nyssa suddenly imagined that she was the rabbit, and the creature behind her...

She was running, blindly down the gravel driveway. She opened her mouth to shout for help, but no sound emerged. She seemed to be in slow motion- her dead legs would not move quickly enough, as if a heavy weight restrained them. She could still hear the heavy breathing behind her, louder now.

She tripped and fell headfirst into the arms of a young man. He gripped her tightly around the waist.
"It's okay. You're safe," he soothed. Other voices chatted in the distance.
Nyssa looked up at her saviour. His face had a comforting familiarity - an average sort of face - a face that indicated this man was no evil-doer.
A number of other men with torches and primitive firing pieces stood around the area. They looked rougher - perhaps stable hands or strong-arms. They stood over the body of some huge beast.
"You... you killed it?" whispered Nyssa.
The man looked puzzled. "What? The elephant? Good Lord, no. Something's out there." He stared into the darkness. "It's begun to kill the animals. At first a dog, then a horse or two. Now even the elephants aren't safe."
Nyssa looked more carefully at the grey, leathery corpse and could now see huge scratches in its flank. She looked back at the man, realising she was still in his arms. With a polite cough, she stepped backwards. The man released his grip on her and offered his hand. "Richard. Pleased to meet you."
"Where am I?" asked Nyssa. "Where's the Doctor?" Her head was beginning to spin. She must look a terrible mess. What impression had she given Richard? "You mean my father's guest? He's at the house. I think its high time we should be getting back there." He offered his arm this time. "Let me escort you."
Nyssa took his arm without hesitation.

Nyssa stopped outside the wood-panelled door, straightening her tunic and brushing down her trousers.
"You look exquisite," Richard said, smiling. "I believe the Doctor is at dinner with my parents."
Nyssa blushed and stepped through the door as he opened it for her. What was Tegan's expression? It never rains but it pours. There'd been someone else recently, hadn't there? Nyssa suddenly felt dizzy as something in her mind came into focus and then out again before she could recognise it.
Shaking her head, she concentrated on the room around her. Richard stepped in behind her. "Mother, Father, may I present the Doctor's young friend, Nyssa."
There were seven people in the room. The Doctor sat inbetween two women on one side of a long dining table. Two men sat opposite them and at each end of the table sat the final two figures, whom Richard had addressed. The elderly woman was closest, Richard's father at the far end. He stood, arms outstretched in welcome.
"Doctor?" asked Nyssa, strangely disturbed with the Time Lord's lack of greeting.
The Doctor put his fork down and nodded at her briefly. Nyssa looked at Richard's father for acknowledgement instead.
"Welcome, child," he said in a deep, rough voice. "I am Count Bradshaw, this is my wife, and may I introduce you to my niece Joyce and her husband, my eldest son George and my sister May. Of course, you know the Doctor and Richard."
Nyssa curtsied. "My lord, it is an honour to be present in your beautiful house." For the first time, she noted with approval the almost Traken architecture.
"I thought I left you in the TARDIS," the Doctor stated in a tone he had always reserved for Adric.
"I heard something," Nyssa protested politely. "Doctor, there's a creature out there - its dangerous -"
"Yes, we know, thank you," sighed the Doctor. "Oh Nyssa, why didn't you just stay inside?"
"It's killed an elephant," interrupted Richard. "I'll take the men -"
"Good Lord!" exclaimed the countess.
"The Doctor seems to believe he can help us," George said, raising his glass. "I suggest you go to the drawing room and let us deal with this. It needn't concern you."
"Go dear," encouraged the Countess. "Show Nyssa the other children."
"Yes, mother," conceded Richard. He reached for Nyssa's arm.
Nyssa felt stung by their dismissive attitude. If the Doctor knew what was going on, why didn't he tell her? Why was he acting like this? "Doctor?" she questioned again.
The Doctor played with his food. "Do as they say, Nyssa. This needn't concern you."
Nyssa still felt shocked as Richard led her from the room, cold and alone.

In the next room she entered, the warmth of her greeting helped numb the sense of rejection she felt. At least half a dozen children sat in front of a blazing fire, protected by a metal guard. They were of various ages, the youngest a baby who could barely walk, the oldest a young girl probably a few years younger than Nyssa.
"Please, take a seat," Richard said, indicating a comfortable chair. "I'll order some cocoa while we wait."
Nyssa sat, the children grouping around her, smiling and laughing.
"This is Nyssa," declared Richard. "She's had quite a scare, so please don't ask her too many questions."
"Nyssa," murmured a little girl. "That's a pretty name."
"Thank you," replied Nyssa. "What's yours?"
"Oh, my names Susan."
A boy squeezed through the gaggle. "I'm William, and this is Timothy." He held up the toddler.
Nyssa took hold of Timothy and sat him on her lap. He gurgled and gave a baby laugh.
"Is there really a monster outside?" asked William, eyes bright with interest.
"I'm afraid there is," Nyssa said calmly, "but I'm sure your parents know how to make it go away."
Richard handed her a cup of cocoa. "You really shouldn't tell them these things. They're not old enough."
"And neither are you," countered Nyssa. "That's why we're confined here while your relatives talk to the Doctor, isn't it? Why? You're hardly a child, and neither am I!"
Richard shook his head. "You're wrong. I don't graduate for another two years."
"Graduate?" Nyssa questioned.
"Are you going to get married to Richard?" asked Susan. "Is that why you're here?"
Nyssa tugged the lobe of her ear nervously. "You really do ask - " she began politely.
"Nyssa is a visitor - a guest, nothing more." Richard sat on the floor amongst the children.
Timothy tried to crawl over the arm of the chair and Nyssa caught him, passing him into Richard's outstretched arms.
"Do you spend all the time with the children, then?" Nyssa asked.
"I don't mind," Richard admitted. "I like children. Do you like children, Nyssa?"
Nyssa felt uncomfortable with the question. "I... I really never had the chance to find out."
Richard laughed. "Never mind. Your time will come. I love children. They make so much more sense of everything than adults." He blew a raspberry at Timothy, who giggled.
Susan giggled too, and Nyssa couldn't help but smile as well.

"Okay, come on Doc," Tegan ordered. "What was going on while Nyssa was getting friendly with this Richard."
Tegan grinned at Nyssa. "He sounds quite nice. Better introduce us some time!"
The Doctor shook his head furiously. "Er, no Tegan, no she mustn't. That boy is more trouble than he's worth."
"You don't mean..." Tegan gasped.

"Is there anything you're aware of that you haven't mentioned to me?" the Doctor asked the Count.
The Count pulled a face and shook his head. "No, I don't believe there is."
The Doctor swirled some of the wine around in his glass. "You seem to be taking this all rather casually. Has anything like this happened before? Is there anywhere you can get help from?"
George pushed his plate away. "I seem to recall this house has been plagued by monsters before, but only in the ancient histories."
"Hmmm," murmured the Doctor, pushing away his own plate of half-eaten food as a serving girl materialised and collected the plates.
The Doctor struggled to remember which door she'd emerged from. He frowned.
"Its strange, really. I'm rather used to a planet where the local populace would kick up a fuss if something extraordinary happened. Your lack of concern is rather refreshing." He looked straight into the Count's eyes. "What planet did you say you were from again?"
The occupants of the room paused, looking straight at him.
The Doctor rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a second. "Planet! World! What land is this?"
Still silence. The Count seemed to me mouthing something in slow motion.
"For a people with rather Galifreyan tastes in food and architecture, you're rather - " he exploded before stopping. His eyes sparkled dangerously. "What country, what province? Can you tell me that?"
The Count began to raise his hand very slowly. "Mur..rli..y..." he slurred.
"You don't know, do you!" the Doctor shouted, leaping up from his seat and knocking his wine glass off the table.
Everything distorted slightly, as if blurred by motion. The wine glass fell, almost frame by frame to the floor...
The glass hit the ground with a smash, spilling wine and shards everywhere.
The Doctor staggered as the room resumed normality. Just for a moment, he'd thought he was still sitting down...
A servant began to sweep up the mess.
The Doctor spun towards her. "You!" he shouted. "Which door did you come through?" She paused.
"Quickly!" he ordered.
George laid a hand on his shoulder, but the Doctor twisted away.
"George!" He grinned and waved a finger at him. "Did you know you're the image of a Cranleigh I knew?" He laughed. "'Positively two peas in a pod!' How old are you?"
George opened his mouth to speak.
"You don't know do you?" attacked the Doctor. "I bet you don't even know your cousin's husband's name, do you?"
George took a few steps backwards, speechless.
The Doctor flung his arms out like a sorcerer preparing some arcane spell.
"This is all like some badly written story! I've been trapped in fictions before, you know! Did you really think this poor facade could fool me?"
The Count advanced on him, struggling to move as reality pushed against him. "It's... not.... for...you..." he managed before fading away.
The Doctor stood for a moment in the empty room, forcing his mind to strip away the wood-panels one by one to reveal void. Then the thought struck him. He grimaced. "Oh no..."

FacesFacessheknewChildrenScreamingThecreature!TheCountfallsRichardstands, firinghisrifleWait!Wait!There'ssomeonestilltrapped!Scream.Richarddropstheempty shotgundivingthroughashatteredwindowThehouseFumesCoughingRichardreturnstears wettingthesootonhisfacecarryingablackenedbundleHertearsminglewithhisSusanHer griefhisgriefFatherSusanTrakenSusan...

Nyssa started awake, a cold feeling creeping up her spine. The fire had died to a dull orange. Timothy was gone from her arms.
"I didn't want to wake you," explained Richard behind her.
"The others have retired for the night, but I thought I'd stay up and show you to your room."
Nyssa smiled. "That's very kind of you, really. Have you seen the Doctor?"
Richard shook his head. "No."
Nyssa stood, looking around the room and then walking over to a bookshelf. The top shelf was filled with blue books with gold inlaid on the spine. "What are these?" she asked, taking the first volume.
"The history of our family and this place," explained Richard. "We are rather keen on our heritage."
Nyssa opened the volume at a random page. A celery leaf lay in-between the pages she had just opened the book at.
A clue, left by the Doctor? She read, as Richard moved to look over her shoulder.
Two paragraphs later, Nyssa nearly dropped the book.
"By the Keeper," she whispered in horror.

The Doctor tried to balance his mental concentration. He had to maintain the unreality in time to warn Nyssa. It was her only hope. If he left her in this place, there was no guarantee that she would ever escape. The corridor was disintegrating behind him as he struggled to keep it intact ahead of him. Where would she be?
A white light flashed in front of him. Leela smiled briefly at him before speaking. "Bloodlust, Eternal Sleep, Disease. One of these shall take her away from you. I have seen it in the vortex."
"Leela?" asked the Doctor, furiously trying to concentrate on a million things at once.
Leela vanished from view. Part of the fiction? No. There was a sense of intelligence. The TARDIS trying to get through to him? Perhaps.
"Bloodlust. That didn't sound like Nyssa, if that's who Leela was talking about," muttered the Doctor as he continued down the corridor.
"Eternal sleep, well that could mean..." His eyes widened with realisation. "Unless..."
He dashed down the semi-transparent corridor.

"It's going to happen all over again..." whispered Richard in horror.
Nyssa nodded, face pale. "We've got to tell the Doctor. It's our only -"
The Doctor stepped into the room, as if in a great hurry. He gave a momentary nod at Richard before walking past him and straight up to Nyssa.
"Doctor, I have to tell you something - that page you marked in the book for me -"
The Doctor's brow furrowed. "Book, what book?"
"The celery leaf?" prompted Nyssa. "Surely -"
The Doctor shook his head. "I didn't..." He nodded. "Ah. That would explain a great many things."
"Doctor, the book, it says -"
The Doctor grasped her by the shoulders. "This is not real. There is not a monster out there, just as these people don't exist. What can you remember before you went to sleep after entering the TARDIS?"
Nyssa struggled to remember. "I... I'm not sure. I can't..."
"That's because you're still asleep, Nyssa!" hissed the Doctor.
Nyssa shook her head. "No, surely not..."
"All this -" The Doctor waved his hand. "Is an illusion, an elaborate fantasy created for some purpose. Remember Castrovalva! I need to know who's behind it! Now think, Nyssa! Who seems the most real here?"
"I'm not sure..."
"Think, Nyssa, think!" The Doctor's tone was urgent. "Surely there must be someone!"
"Well, Richard, I suppose."
The Doctor stared over her shoulder, lost in thought. "Hmmm, well I'd better have a word with him..."
"But Doc-" Nyssa protested, looking at Richard's rather serious frown behind the Time Lord.
"You'd better try and disbelieve all this. I'm managing, but the creator is skilled in maintaining reality. I could snap out of it any minute. You may find I do, in which case the situation will might change, or he'll create an illusionary me. Just look for any noticeable changes. With luck you'll be able to disbelieve too, or I'll be able to help you once I'm out. Just hang on in there." He began to move away, the corridor seeming to spiral round him, back into the dining room and Richard's relatives.
She followed him through, charging past him and blocking the way. "No! Wait! You're wrong! I know what happens! I've seen it before! Doctor! You've got to believe me! That thing out there, its going to..." Her eyes began to cloud with tears as she struggled to control her emotions. "The house - its burning, Doctor! You've got to listen to me! Susan! We've got to save..." She staggered forward, her head spinning with images of what was to come.

"CUT!" roared a voice behind her from a tannoy. "This isn't in the bloody script!"
The Doctor caught her in his arms. "Easy, old girl," he said in a surprisingly gentle tone. "Of course you know - its in the script."
Nyssa looked up at the Doctor, tears streaming down her face. "What?" she managed to choke.
The tannoy voice spoke again. "Will someone get down there and help Miss Simmonds!"
The Bradshaw family all stood around nervously staring at her and the Doctor as a number of people seemed to appear out of nowhere, taking her from him.
The Doctor swallowed nervously, but did not resist. "I think Mary's had one of her turns again," he said, his face contorted with worry. "She's calling me Doctor again."
The swarm of people carried Nyssa away from the hot lights and towards a small metal side door.
"Perhaps I should..." said the Doctor, moving to follow her.
"Stay right where you are, Philip!" boomed the tannoy voice. "We'll do Scene seven, shot eleven while Miss Simmonds recovers herself. All right, people?"
Philip nodded and moved back to his position on the set. "Highly emotional piece," he explained to the other actors. "She tends to get a little carried away. Understandable really. She's wonderful to work with though, so talented..."

The plot continues to thicken as we see how Nyssa copes with life as an actress and the Doctor gets to the bottom of the problem. If you think you know what's going on, why not send us an email?

Robert Powell will be interviewed in next issue of Curse, talking about his ideas for Dreamscape and his Doctor Who interests.

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