Maze

Tegan Jovanka knew central Brisbane backwards.

So why wasn‘t anything quite where it should be now?

She glanced over at her reflection in one of the eighteen-storey glass-fronted banks, the darkened glass reflecting back rather than enabling her to see in. But instead of her reflection staring at her, it seemed to be laughing at her. Pointing. And it was about twelve storeys taller than it ought to have been.

Oh, and Brisbane was completely deserted. Cars parked on the streets. Buses waiting at stops. But no one in them. No one in the streets. In the shops. In the cafés.

No birds in the air. No sounds of water even from the harbour.

Nothing. It was as though she was walking through a three-dimensional photograph of Brisbane.

(...)

But as she wheeled back towards the harbour, the road ahead was blocked.

By a skyscraper.

'That wasn‘t there just now,‘ she said. With a shrug, she turned away and headed down a small side street that she remembered would take her towards the main open-air shopping precinct with its covered top.

Yes, that was still there. Except that the way was blocked by a wire-mesh gate with five... no six, huge padlocks keeping it closed. As she looked up she saw tiny slivers of jagged glass grow from the top of the gate until they were about seven inches high.

'Now I know I‘m dreaming,‘ she muttered. Still, it meant that she wasn‘t supposed to go that way. A quick glance to the left confirmed the skyscraper still blocked off the harbour.

Tegan continued walking, periodically encountering obstacles that hadn‘t been there last time she looked, and suddenly it hit her. 'Of course!‘ she yelled. 'It‘s a maze!‘

'At last,‘ came a voice from all around Brisbane and also close to her right ear.

'Hey, I‘ve coped with worse dreams than this,‘ she said loudly, her voice again swallowed by the lack of reality. 'I fought off the Mara. I can deal with you.‘

'Really?‘ came the voice. ‗Bored with my little maze, are you? Well, let‘s see if I can jazz it up a bit for you, my friend.‘

That hadn‘t been the response Tegan wanted. She had hoped that by bringing up her recent mental battle against the Mara, the disembodied entity that had tried to re-enter the real world by manipulating her dreams, her foe would realise that she was stronger than he anticipated. All that was going to happen, by the sound of it, was an upping of the ante.

Which was exactly what followed.

'Adric!‘

There in front of her was her travelling companion, hands in pockets, staring at her. No, staring past her. Tegan turned and was greeted by the sight of Nyssa, hands behind her back.

'It‘s very simple, my dear,‘ said the disembodied voice. 'You must escape from my maze. I imagine the rules are fairly obvious. You can‘t cheat.‘ Tegan wondered if she knew the voice. It wasn‘t harsh, like the Mara‘s had been. It was older, almost relaxed and kindly. This voice reminded her of her English grandfather - it had those same cultured tones, an easy but educated way of speaking. However, it also had a smugness that suggested to Tegan that it liked hearing itself. She, on the other hand, was already rather naffed off with it.

'Anything else I need to know?‘ she called out, and was pleasantly surprised that for the first time her voice carried.

Indeed, she felt a rush of air around her. Like the slight breeze from the surface of Brisbane harbour on a September morning.

As if to answer her, a third figure materialised at the far end of the street. It was a robot - a real 1950s idea of a robot. Tegan immediately thought of an old game she had owned as a child, a spelling game called Magic Robot. To spell a word out, the robot would walk towards the correct letters on a board. This robot was in the same mould - dull grey metal, square head and body, stubby jointed legs and arms, and a screen on its chest. On the screen, LEDs flashed, reading 1800.

'Oh yes,‘ the voice finally replied. ‗My robot is there to help you find your way out. I suggest you listen to him when he bothers to give you aid. And you have thirty minutes. Oh, and one last thing. Your young friends here are not your friends. At all. In any way whatsoever. I shouldn‘t trust them if I were you.‘

As if to confirm this, Nyssa brought out from behind her a small rectangular box with a nozzle on it. The ion bonder she had used to help the Doctor on Castrovalva. But Tegan knew it could also be used as a weapon and realised that, here, that was exactly what it was.

Adric meanwhile undid the rope belt around his waist and started making a lasso of it, wheeling it expertly around his head.

Tegan knew then these were not her real friends from the TARDIS. Nyssa was never that cold, and Adric never had that degree of hand-eye co-ordination!

The robot held up a big sign - a wooden arrow with the words THIS WAY on it, pointing to the left.

'When do I start?‘ asked Tegan, tense and ready.

As an answer, the LEDs began counting down on the robot‘s chest. 1799, 1798, 1796...

And Tegan ran for her life.

***

Divided Loyalties, Chapter 5