Terminus
Setting: (The biggest and busiest station in the network. A futuristic hybrid of Waterloo and Clapham Junction. It is an arrival point for rocket fuelled trains, from every corner of the galaxy. TARDIS arrives in the middle of the concourse at a large mainline station and the door opens.)
Clara stepped out with the Doctor and looked around. "A station?" she asked. "All the places in the universe and you bring me to a station?" The Doctor looked at her blankly.
"This isn't JUST a station. It's the station!" he said. Clara looked up and saw the vastness of the building, which seemed to go on forever. She could see hundreds of trains arriving, at what seemed like every platform. Each new arrival brought a fresh wave of commuters, all heading for an apparently busy day at the start of their working week. The Doctor watched Clara as she took in the sheer size of the place, from the endless shops to the seemingly endless movement of people before them.
"So many people!" she gasped, and then looked up and across the vast and cavernous ceiling that was like a mirror to the stars, showing hundreds of trains arriving. Gigantic departure boards announced seemingly endless arrivals. The calls came overhead:
"The 16:25 from Io will now arrive on platform 125. The delayed 16.00 service from Europa will now arrive on platform 157". Then Clara heard a disturbance. "Let go of me!" shouted an outraged voice. A scruffily dressed man, seemingly out of place among the smart suits and commuters, was being dragged away by two burly uniformed security guards.
"Get off me!" he continued. "You can't get rid of us that easily!" He was bustled away into a door at the edge of the station, which slammed shut as soon as the guards had manhandled him through.
"What was all that about" Clara asked. The Doctor's attention had been drawn towards the ticket machines for some reason, and he was peering closely at one and managing to get in the way of half a dozen impatient commuters. Clara took hold of his arm and pointed towards the firmly closed door. "That man!" she said. "The one they took into there. What's going on?"
The Doctor looked towards the door and then surveyed the station concourse. "Strange" he observed.
"I know" replied Clara. The Doctor wasn't listening however. He was lost in his own thoughts.
"All the same" he muttered, looking around at the people everywhere. Clara forgot about the man for a moment and looked with him. He was right.
"They're all the same" she said. "No tourists, no families, no school children. They're all….the same". The Doctor nodded.
"All the same type of people. But why?" he mused. "This is an intergalactic station. There should be different people, hundreds of types". They stood there, the only still people among the vast moving crowds.
In a dark room somewhere in the Terminus, high above the vast monolith, unblinking eyes watched the Doctor and Clara on a monitor. They intrigued him. Why, out of all the people, were they not intently proceeding somewhere? And how had they just arrived, with no ticket and no boarding details? He flexed his hands and leaned back in a black leather chair. "They could be trouble" he mused.
Pushing their way through the crowds, the Doctor and Clara made their way towards the announcement boards. Trains were arriving from all over the universe, from Mercury to Mars, all the way to Pluto and beyond. However one thing drew their attention, something which appeared to have escaped the attention of the crowds. "They're all arrivals" Clara noted "Every single one of them". The Doctor continued to survey the boards.
"No, there they are" he pointed to a small board at the very edge of all the others. Easily overlooked, the minute amount of trains were all marked as 'Delayed'. Nothing more. Then, the board flickered seemingly into life. However, as the flaps spun around they settled to leave only empty black space. The only boards left were the seemingly endless ones showing constant arrivals.
Somewhere in the control room the figure smiled. "Sorry" it said. "No trains leaving today."
Clara and the Doctor turned away from the boards and walked through the crowds.
"What is this place?" Clara asked. "It looks like people arrive but does anyone ever leave?". The Doctor looked around.
"They're being kept here" he said. "Kept here for some reason".
"But why?" Clara asked. The Doctor didn't have the answer. Not yet.
As the Doctor examined the station, he blocked out all the noise and activity from his mind. Then he saw what they had been missing before. Every now and then, a person who didn't quite fit in with the rest. Scruffily dressed here, over there a man with a carrier bag instead of a briefcase and a woman who wore plastic wrappers instead of shoes. Small things, but they all added up. In the crowd they became lost and easily overlooked. As soon as they appeared, it seemed as though they were gone again. "Look!" Clara whispered. He followed her gaze to a small archway where a large bin stood. Behind it sat a man virtually hidden by the tall plastic vessel. He peered out at Clara and the Doctor, and then withdrew as quickly back into the shadows. The Doctor and Clara made their way slowly over and quietly approached.
"Who are you?" the Doctor asked. "What's going on here?". The man looked scared.
"It's alright" Clara said as she crouched down next to him. "We just want to help". He looked at her with a mixture of fear and confusion.
"No-one speaks to me" he began. "I have to hide or they'll find me". Suddenly he grabbed the Doctor's coat and held on tight. "You have to stop them" he urged. "They feed off you, that's why there are so many people here. Once they consume you, you end up like me". The Doctor looked intently at the man's face. He was young, far more than he first appeared. Once he had been one of the others: there was a watch on his wrist that had once been immaculate leather but was now dull and the hand no longer moved. The clothes which were now torn and dirty had been a perfectly tailored suit, and the trailing and unwashed hair was previously a perfectly preened style.
"This is what the station does" the man lamented. "It consumes you, then…..".
He was unable to finish. Two guards had pushed their way through to where the Doctor and Clara sat next to the man, and pulled him to his feet.
"Come on now" one began. "Time for you to stop bothering these people".
"He's not bothering us" began the Doctor.
"It's alright, we were just talking" Clara continued. The guards ignored them both and half carried, half dragged the man, taking him away and towards a large silver door. As the Doctor and Clara tried to fight their way towards him, a voice announced
"Please note, departure services are due to commence shortly. Please consult the departure boards for information". Immediately there was a rush of people towards the boards. The Doctor and Clara became trapped in a sea of movement, unable to move anywhere or do anything except maintain their position and avoid separation. By the time the crowd had thinned, the man and the guards were gone.
Finding themselves once again in a mass of people, the Doctor and Clara looked around. Unable to see anyone except for the seemingly endless sea of commuters, they needed to do something. But what?
The Doctor wondered if a change of tactics was advisable. Then he had a thought. "Stay here" he said to Clara, who looked at him with some confusion.
"Why, where are you going?" she asked, trying to ascertain what he was about to do. He looked at her and smiled.
"I'm going for a walk" he said and headed off in the direction of the end of the station. Clara watched him disappear into the crowd and continued to watch the crowd, searching everywhere for any sign of the man they had seen pulled away. Instead, all she saw was a sea of black and grey suits and people who were going nowhere.
Meanwhile the Doctor was heading for the outermost corners of the station concourse. Where there should have been just another concession among a stream of coffee stands, snack bars and newsagents there was a small gap. Just a couple of feet wide, it seemed to go unnoticed by the other travellers. The Doctor glanced around and slipped inside..
He soon came towards a small black door, unlocked and apparently unsecured. He opened it and stepped through, closing it quietly behind. The Doctor found himself in a stark white corridor, with no doors save for one lone exit at the end. As he walked towards it, there was a sense of being watched but no cameras to be seen. While he did so a pair of keen eyes watched his progress. The Doctor came to the end of the corridor, and paused. Then he opened the door and waited to see what was inside. What he found was surprising, even for him.
A wooden oak desk dominated a wood panelled and richly carpeted room, with the only other item of furniture an imposing black leather chair. In the chair sat a blonde man in a suit. He was impeccably dressed and presented, from his crisp white shirt to the polished black leather brogues on his feet. He was smiling but it wasn't a welcoming expression. A name badge on his jacket pocket read "Station Master".
"Hello" he said in a formal tone. "Please".
The Doctor wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. "Who are you?" he asked. "Or, more importantly, what are you?".
The man in the chair laughed. "Very clever" he said. "Not who, but what." He sat back in the chair and watched the Doctor with an air of amusement. "What indeed. Well, since you have shown the tenacity of managing to find me, I suppose I should at least explain that". He leaned forward, a sudden air of menace replacing the pleasant mannerism and politeness of before. "The name of my race is unimportant. What I am, sir, is a survivor."
The Doctor looked at him "And you feed off them" he said. "The people in the station. You consume them, somehow, in order to survive. What I don't understand is: what do you do when their energy runs out?". Then he remembered the man who had spoken to him and Clara. The man saw as his face changed with the sudden realisation. "What do you do with them?".
The man looked bemused. "Why?" he asked "What does that matter? They've served their purpose, haven't they?". He smiled cruelly. "Their energy sustains me, keeps me alive. No-one leaves. Ever". Then he laughed and sat back in the chair, waiting for the Doctor's response.
He didn't have long to wait. The Doctor looked straight at him and didn't even blink. "I will get them out" he said. "Every one of them". He turned and left the room in search of Clara. As he did so the seated man called out to him.
"Oh" he said. "You may want to have a look for your….friend." He held up his hands in a wave. "She could be anywhere".
While the Doctor made his way back, Clara examined her own surroundings. From her original position on the station, she had been watching the door which the security guards had taken the scruffily dressed man through. She watched as two more headed to the door, entering a short security code into a control panel. After waiting for a calculated amount of time, she moved slowly over to the door and did the same. There was the sound of an electronic bolt releasing and the door opened. The men were nowhere to be seen, but Clara didn't even consider them. Instead she found herself looking around at vast control room, with computer screens and monitors everywhere. The strange thing was, there was no-one operating any of the equipment. Lights flashed on and off, while computers hummed quietly. The almost musical score was interrupted only by the occasional artificial bleep and the flash of warning red light somewhere.
Clara looked among the desks for some information: anything that could help. Having found nothing, she was just about to search again when she looked up at the monitors. On one she saw the Doctor, heading down a white corridor. Quickly, she left the room and headed back to the main concourse of the station. Emerging into the vast space she saw the Doctor heading towards her.
"I found something" she said. "Some kind of control room". She began to head back to the door but the Doctor put his hand on her arm to stop her.
"So did I" he replied. "Or more specifically, someone". Clara looked at him.
"Who?" she asked.
The Doctor looked back at her. "The person responsible for this" he said, then looked at the door which led to where Clara had found the computer room. "Show me what you found".
He and Clara headed to the door, and once again she entered the code. However, this time the door stayed firmly shut and the light on the control panel lit up with a red hue. The Doctor wasn't fazed. "Ah" he said. "It seems like it may be time for plan B". He took the screwdriver from his pocket, quickly adjusted the settings and turned his attention to the lock. A few moments later the door opened and they were inside the computer room. The Doctor looked around and noted the sheer scale of the place: monitors everywhere, watching people as they went about the station.
Suddenly the quiet drone of computers was interrupted by a loud beeping. It quickly escalated, leaving the Doctor and Clara holding their hands over their ears in an attempt to mute the deafening noise. They managed to open the door and shut it behind, abruptly cutting off the still escalating alarm and leaving an equally sudden silence. They made their way along the now dark corridor and back to the station.
The mood in the station had changed. Instead of passing through the concourse, the people seemed to be milling around near the announcement boards. There was a sense of anxiety and fear that had replaced the calm and focus of before. Clara spotted a man pacing about near the edge of the crowd and went up to him.
"What's going on?" she asked.
The man looked at her. "Didn't you hear?" he asked. "We can't leave. We're stuck here". He turned away and gazed desperately at the boards. Clara persisted.
"Who told you that?" she asked him. The man never took his eyes off the boards.
"I don't know" he said. "Someone told me".
Clara turned away and headed for a smartly dressed woman in a suit. Her panic stricken face and flushed expression showed her fear and confusion. Clara gently touched the woman's arm.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
The woman looked at Clara. "No-one leaves here" she began. "Ever".
"Where did you hear that?" Clara asked. The woman turned her tearstained face away from the boards to answer the question.
"A man told me" she started. "He said we couldn't leave the station". Then she turned away from Clara and, just like the man before, stared futilely at the boards overhead. Clara moved back towards where the Doctor was standing.
"They know" she said. "Someone told them they can't leave. They're scared". There was now a sense of urgent yet quiet panic in the concourse.
"Genius" he murmured to himself. Clara looked at him.
"Genius?" she echoed.
"Of course" the Doctor said as he turned to her. "Tell them the truth, of course. Absolute genius." He folded his arms and surveyed the crowd. "Once they know the truth, anything I was going to say loses its effect. And another thing…".
He and Clara watched as the people began to move about more rapidly, to and fro, their pace increasing with the rising panic within the crowd.
The Doctor continued. "More movement equals more energy produced. More to feed off". He turned. "That's why he's done this. Take away my upper hand and help himself at the same time". He paused. "The computers" he said. "That's the answer". He headed for the TARDIS, but Clara paused. She continued to watch the people who were anxiously waiting but going nowhere.
In the TARDIS the Doctor moved quickly around, tapping the control panel and muttering in his attempts to find a way to override the computers and their control system. "Come on" he said to himself. "Think!".
The fear in the station had continued to escalate. Among the crowd one man broke free and ran towards the firmly closed ticket barriers that stood between the people and the trains. As he reached the barrier to platform 15, where the train from Io had arrived there was a sudden flash and a loud clap of noise. With a shout he was thrown back towards the crowd, where he lay on the cold platform floor. The people who had also been edging towards the barriers now backed away. Clara ran towards the TARDIS doors but they slammed shut. In her frustration, and not knowing what else to do, she banged her fist on the doors.
"Dammit!" she shouted. "Now what?". She looked around and then impulsively grabbed for her phone. She looked at her messages. One flashed up.
"You have mail!" it cheerily announced. Someone who she had gone to school with wanted to connect on Instamate.
"Not now" she muttered, and then had a thought. Wasn't this the thing where you could send short messages? Just what she needed. Her phone was almost dead on battery but there was just one small bar blinking away. Then again, how likely was he to be on it? One way to find out. She looked up 'The Doctor' and with the subheading 'Timelord'. Oh heck. There he was. She pressed 'connect' and a message popped up. "Here we go….". Inside the TARDIS, unable to persuade the doors to open or to fly anywhere, his own phone beeped.
"Not the time…." the Doctor mumbled. Then another beep. "Alright, alright" he muttered, now irritated. He looked at the screen. 'Clara wants to send you a message' it perkily informed him. He tried to unlock the phone, but couldn't get it to work. "Damn modern technology" he thought. Finally he managed to unlock the phone and open the message. It was two short words, all that Clara had managed to send. It read 'Chain Reaction'. "Of course!" he realised. Then he sent his own reply. Just one word. 'Geronimo'.
Suddenly the Doctor began rapidly pressing buttons and pulling levers. He pulled out a keyboard and began tapping away furiously. Finally he managed to configure the sequence required in order to disrupt the operating system of the barrier system. Finally he pressed the last button and initiated the sequence. "Here we go" he said as he watched and waited.
The barriers exploded in a wave of loud noise and a shower of sparks. One after the other, each one exploded and destroyed. Simultaneously the doors of the barriers sprang open. The crowd of commuters watched, fearful and uncertain. No one knew what to do. Clara looked at their panic stricken faces.
"Go!" she shouted. As one the vast crowd of people began moving, slowly and confidently, towards the open barriers. They continued to pass through, towards the waiting empty trains as the locomotives began to fill with passengers. As each one filled the doors shut.
"Come on!" Clara called out to the people following behind the first wave of passengers. They continued to move, a sea of people moving steadily and surely. Finally there were no more passengers and the once busy concourse was now empty. On the TARDIS the Doctor lost the last of his patience and slammed his hands onto the control panel of the TARDIS. At the same time Clara looked towards the big blue box, and the doors finally opened. The Doctor stuck his head out.
"Last call for boarding, Clara Oswald!" he said. "Final call please". Clara ran towards the TARDIS and jumped on board. "Ready to leave?" he asked. Clara looked at him. "Definitely" she replied.
The Doctor turned back to the control panel. He looked at the screen which showed the hundreds of trains waiting to leave.
"All departures, time to leave!" he called. The trains began to power up their engines, and behind each locomotive a sheer metal panel raised up. At the back of each train, two rockets moved and rotated into position. They all fired up simultaneously, and the trains began their journey back to where they belonged. The Doctor and Clara watched as hundreds of trains carrying millions of people headed out in all directions across the universe.
The Doctor turned to Clara and asked "How about some music?" She nodded and he pressed a few buttons. The subtle strains of the Eagle's "Hotel California" began to ring out as they both listened to the song.
(As the music plays the view pans away from the TARDIS and back to the now deserted station. The eventual view is of one of the ticket entrance barriers, firmly closed, while the music changes to a military beat. After building to a crescendo, it stops abruptly and the barrier springs open).
An electronic voice rang out, clipped and clear: it echoed in the vast space
"Welcome to the Terminus. We hope you have a pleasant onward journey".