Doctor Who - 02 - The Art of Forgetting

.3. A Serious Malfunction

Theta wandered through the Emporium's corridors, anxiety rising. He had tried to contact an authorised programmer, but nobody in the Central Pillar responded to his calls. Finally he had left a brief message on the Central's vidphone, requesting assistance for the player from the penthouse 1000. The absence of humans was quite annoying. Theta couldn't remember anyone reporting the lunch break being prolonged. On the other hand, a different set of rules applied to humans and a different one to Ood, and no 'revolution' on the Ood-Sphere could change it. Anxiety, and maybe even irritation, was giving Theta a headache. With a jingle of criskeys he approached the lift and chose the wing and level of his accommodation.

Kappa was standing in front of his door. With his eyelids half-closed he swayed gently, arms slightly raised, palms turned upwards. His translator ball, although hanging on his pocket's catch, gleamed with milky light.

Theta slowed down and then paused uncertainly. Kappa never used to visit him before. Never. The older Ood must have heard his footsteps (and probably the song of irritation and anxiety as well), because he opened his eyes. For a while he looked as if he was trying to send some message, as if he was straining his mind to transfer some idea. Finally, resigned, he reached for his translator.

"A serious malfunction," he said.

"No." Theta lifted his own translator ball. "Everything is fine. Minds are humming. There's no malfunction."

"A serious malfunction," underlined Kappa. "The controlling buffer reduced. The Cells destabilised. The Cells weakened. The machine is waking up."

"The Cells?" Theta shifted uneasily. "We cannot read them. Where is the information coming from?"

"Follow with me." The older Ood blinked quickly; his eyes were tired, the faintest shade of red staining their glossy surfaces.

"Where?"

"To see the Cells."

"To see the Cells? No. People go see the Cells; people protected by helmets and by the sonic barrier. The Ood's mind is not strong enough to sustain the contact with the Cell. Kappa, have you seen the Cells? Have you listened to them?"

Kappa swayed, leaned his shoulder against the wall and slowly slid to the floor.

"The human song has been silenced," he said, not looking at Theta. "The Emporium's staff members have finished their song. There's just the two of us left. And the Cells. Those Cells, that are still singing, but they are getting quiet and weak as well. If they stop their song, we'll all die. The players, you and me."

Theta could not move. The message he received released just a slight emotional response, but he was paralysed by sheer bewilderment. The Emporium's staff members? All the human employees of that gigantic institution? Several hundreds of technicians and programmers, cooks, maids, receptionists and hosts? It seemed impossible that all of them could die during the lunch break. Theta had seen some of them at a morning handover and he could not believe in them being dead. What killed them?

"Minds are humming," he stated stubbornly, refusing to accept Kappa's words. "The song continues. Listen."

"They're the player's minds, locked in their chambers," groaned Kappa. "Only sleeping minds. The machine sings new dreams for them. Very bad dreams."

"Impossible."

"Brother..." Kappa reached out to him, as if trying to touch Theta in surprisingly human gesture. "We have to... have to... have to... serve..."

He slowly tilted to one side and froze. The translator slipped out from his hand and fell to the floor. The quiet, incessant music of Kappa's mind, accompanying Theta for such a long time, he almost stopped noticing it, broke off at a low, mournful note, never to reappear. The following silence seemed even deeper with a background of constant, completely alien buzz of human minds.