The Mind of The Daleks

Chapter 13: Dust

At last they were inside! Isabel breathed a sigh of relief just for accomplishing that much, although she knew that the real challenge lay ahead.

She turned her attention to their immediate surroundings. They were in a small reception area with a desk to one side and the door leading to another deserted office on the other. Straight ahead an arch led into a hallway from which, somewhere beyond another corner, a low light and the throbbing sound emanated.

The Doctor craned his head into the office on the left and then turned away, uninterested; it had been turned into a haphazard storage closet for boxes and heavy machinery. He walked over to the receptionist's desk and let go of Isabel's hand (which she now realized that he had been holding for several minutes) to shuffle aimlessly among the papers.

"These are quite dusty," he remarked in a whisper, stifling a sneeze.

"This is New Mexico; things get dusty fast around here."

"Dust blown in from the desert wouldn't settle this much, when the air conditioning is turned on full power and a good many circulation fans are going as well."

"Hey, you're right," Isabel noticed. "It's colder inside than it is outside!"

She took a step closer to the desk, wondering what else she had missed. There was nothing odd about the office to indicate that it was in the possession of Daleks, except for a dirty path leading from the outer door to the hallway. And if the nondescript pictures and inane calendar that hung on the wall were crooked then it merely meant that the building was not level – hardly anything to remark about. Everything was certainly a lot dustier than any office with pretensions to being businesslike had a right to be. And there was something else that was off about it...

"There's a really weird smell in here," Isabel whispered, her nose crinkling. "What is that?"

"Hmmm, yes," said the Doctor, "it's coming from the other side of the desk."

He tiptoed softly around the desk and Isabel followed so close behind him that the restraining hand he laid on her arm came too late.

"Oh my goodness!" exclaimed the Doctor in a hoarse rasp.

Isabel gave a strangled gasp and then mumbled through her hand, "I'm gonna throw up!"

"Oh dear! Well!" The Doctor bent down and cautiously touched the very dead body lying in front of them. "I'm very sorry that you saw this."

Isabel drew back but still watched with the fascination that the truly horrible sometimes commands.

What lay there, hidden in the corner behind the receptionist's desk, was the discolored and bloated remains of a man of middle height. He was dressed in what had been a nice dress shirt and slacks, covered in the layer of dust that coated everything else in the room, and was stretched out flat on his back as if someone had dragged him there. Nowhere on his clothes or on the floor around him showed any dark splashes of dried blood. The two deaths that Isabel had seen at the hands – or whatever – of the Daleks had likewise produced no blood.

"Daleks?" she whispered.

The Doctor nodded grimly. "He's been dead at least a week - probably more."

"Why hasn't anybody – noticed?"

"Probably because the vents are aimed out into the empty lot outside this building."

"Who was he?"

The Doctor gingerly reached under the body to the corner of a leather wallet that was visible in the back pocket of his slacks. "Let me see..." he said, looking inside. "Ah! One Robert Keith Farrell, the owner of this business."

"How do you know that? Does it say?"

"No, but the papers on the desk do."

The Doctor set down the wallet close by its dead owner's side and then stood up slowly, wiping his hands on his pants; this only succeeded in making them dirtier, though he didn't seem to notice. "Well, we must be getting on," he said softly. "There's nothing that we can do for poor Mr. Farrell now."

Isabel nodded in sad, but nauseated, agreement and stepped backward. The Doctor placed his hand gently under her elbow and together they turned toward the room.

There before them stood the tall man who they had seen earlier leaving the building. His face was blank and zombie-like and in his hand was a Dalek gun, pointed straight at them.

"Halt!" he said.

Dum-de-dum de-dum-de-dum de-dum-de-dum-de- Oooooo!

Ooo-eee-oooooo! Oooooo-eee-oooo

Um. That was my impression of the theme...

End of Part Two!!!

To be continued - next week!