Part 15 (1/2)

He a.s.sociated it with the treasure kept it with him all the time, right up to when he died. He pa.s.sed all the Creighton Mere stuff on to me said I might be able to find the gold myself.

'Naturally I was interested. Immediately after the funeral I looked through all Granddad's paperwork and checked the village out. It seemed feasible. But I needed access to the Gaskin Tunnel and for that I needed Henry onboard.'

Gaskin took up the story. 'Nigel came to see me. He was very discreet. He told me about all the information he had regarding the tunnel and the treasure, and he believed that with a moderate amount of effort it could be retrieved. I certainly couldn't have attempted it on my own.'

'I suppose he offered you a share of the takings?' said Angela.

'A place like this costs a lot to run. I can't deny that the money would be useful if there was any. I kept reminding Nigel that the story about the gold was only a story. . . but he seemed convinced.'

Gaskin frowned, contemplating. 'Actually, ”convinced” isn't the right word. He seemed driven. Almost obsessed. . . '

'He couldn't help it,' said the Doctor. 'If he had the stone with him it would already have been rewiring parts of his subconscious using telekinesis.'

Nigel nodded. 'It was when I came to Creighton Mere that it first started speaking to me.'

At this the Doctor put down the marmalade jar and sat forward, licking his fingers.

'You mean it actually spoke to you?' Gaskin sounded dubious. 'You never mentioned that to me at the time.'

'Well I'm not stupid! And anyway I couldn't do it all on my own. I got my two best friends from university to help. We all agreed to split the treasure equally. Everyone would be a winner.'

'And did they know that you were in telepathic communication with a stone?'

'Hardly.'

'They just thought you were in it for the treasure.'

'I was. Or at least I thought I was. The stone kept helping me, guiding me, urging me on. . . '

The stone's influence was actually changing the way Nigel's brain worked and functioned, making sure that his priorities always coin-cided with those of the Vurosis,' said the Doctor. 'But the Vurosis was using your interest in the well treasure to disguise its own objective.'

'I couldn't resist it. All I knew was that I had to get to the treasure at the bottom of the well.'

'The stone's treasure the Vurosis itself.'

Nigel looked down. 'I didn't know that at the time. But the closer I got the more obvious it became that the treasure wasn't gold or jewels or anything else. It was something much better. Much more valuable.'

'Such as?' Nigel shrugged. 'I'm not sure any more. It seemed very clear to me at the time. Power, I suppose. It wanted power. I I wanted power.' wanted power.'

'The closer Nigel got to his target, the more the stone's own thoughts and feelings affected him,' explained the Doctor. 'At the end the two were probably indistinguishable.'

'But you must have suspected something was wrong.'

insisted Martha.

Nigel frowned, uncertain. 'I suppose so. The stone did start to behave very oddly.'

'You mean more oddly than any other kind of talking stone?' muttered Gaskin.

'It became very insistent, impatient. Almost aggressive.' Nigel's hands trembled on the table. 'It started to. . . hurt me.'

'Deliberately?' Martha asked.

'I don't know. I don't think so. It just didn't seem to care,' he swallowed. 'How I felt didn't matter.'

'And now?'

'Nothing.' Nigel shut his eyes. 'Just nothing.'

They all found themselves looking at the stone on the table. It seemed so innocent and harmless. 'So what's it doing now?' asked Martha.

'I have no idea,' replied Nigel sadly.

'Shall we find out?' said the Doctor.

A s.p.a.ce was quickly cleared on the kitchen table. The Doctor placed the brain carefully in the middle, put on his gla.s.ses and fished out his sonic screwdriver.

'There's a low-level field of background radiation surrounding it,'

said the Doctor, scanning the brain with the screwdriver. He glanced up at Nigel. 'That's what probably killed your granddad in the end, by the way. Prolonged exposure is usually fatal.'

Everyone took a couple of steps back from the kitchen table, leaving the Doctor alone. He looked up and smiled wryly over his spectacles at them. 'It's all right. . . a few minutes won't do anyone any harm.'

'Perhaps it's dead,' suggested Angela hopefully. 'Nah,' said the Doctor. 'Something like this doesn't just die. It's waiting.'

'Waiting for what?' asked Martha.

The Doctor brandished his sonic screwdriver. 'Let's try asking it.'

'Is there anything that device can't do, Doctor?' asked Angela.

'Well, it can't make a decent cup of tea. . . '

Sadie took the hint and put the kettle on. Everyone else watched the Doctor as he made a series of adjustments to the screwdriver and then pointed it at the brain. The tip glowed and the brain was bathed in a cool blue light. No response. The screwdriver emitted a high-pitched whirr as the Doctor made further alterations to the settings and then tried again.

This time the result was spectacular.

The stone cracked open and a jagged flash of green light jumped straight out at the Doctor. He was hurled backwards, chair and all, to crash onto the kitchen floor.

'Doctor!' Martha ran to him but she was too late. The Doctor lay sprawled on his back, eyes closed, skin white. 'Doctor! Are you OK?

Can you hear me?'

No response.

Martha looked back at the brain. It sat on the table, unchanged. It had sealed itself up and now it looked as dormant as ever. It showed no sign of life at all.

And neither did the Doctor.