
DOCTOR WHO: THE FEAST OF THE STONE 
BY CAVAN SCOTT AND MARK WRIGHT 
The scream had sliced through the silence like a knife through flesh. As
the vibrations echoed from crag to crag, something deep within stirred, its
sleep disturbed. Yet it couldn't sleep now. A scream hadn't been heard here
for centuries, and the cries of the past had never sounded like that. That
had been a bellow, a roar as if the very fabric of reality had been ripped
apart, not the shriek of a terrified child. And the cave wasn't empty any
more. Dust that had lain for eons had been displaced by the arrival of a
tall, blue box, dancing in the light from the fiery beacon that pulsed atop
the structure. The low, resonating hum that cocooned the box was
fascinating, and the something deep within reached out, only to find its
consciousness touched, pricked by another presence. A presence the like of
which it had never felt before. A presence it found appealing. 
Something deep within awoke and felt the hunger gnawing 
The TARDIS door slammed, leaving the Doctor standing alone, staring out
into the vast darkness that lay beyond. He stepped forward, footsteps
echoing away into nothing. The chamber he was in must be enormous. 
He sniffed the air as he walked forward a few more feet. Rank, he said to
himself, coming to a stop at a sheer rock wall. Nobody's been in here for
centuries. He ran his hand down the wall, feeling the grain. It was warm
and wet. The Doctor looked back towards the TARDIS and sighed. 
I guess I'd better go after him, Alison said, to break the awkward
silence. The Master stood opposite, arms folded. Well, he shrugged, I
can hardly do that, can I my dear? Alison moved to grab her jacket from
the back of an armchair. Do you think I should apologise to him then?
And now we add guidance counsellor to my ever growing list of new duties.
The Master placed both hands wearily against the controls. Miss Cheney,
you will do what you will do. He flicked a switch and the doors swung
open. Alison said nothing. Instead she turned and walked the length of the
control chamber and disappeared into the square of darkness framed by the
doors. As the doors closed behind her, the Master cast an eye heavenwards.
Kids. 
Alison stepped from the threshold of the TARDIS into the stone chamber. She
drew her jacket around her, hugging her arms tight around her body against
the cold. Looking around she saw the Doctor, some distance away, striding
across the chamber. Doctor! 
Not now. I'm talking.The Doctor waved his hand dismissively at whoever
was trying to attract hisattention and turned back to the sea of faces,
their fixed, rapt expressions urginghim on to finish his tale. ... and so
I said the Slarvian at the bar can stay, but thefellah in the Quark suit
will have to go!After a pause, the entire room erupted into laughter. They
even liked his jokes.This was the best party he'd been to since Woodstock.
Now, where was that waiterwith his champagne? In the back of his mind, the
Doctor seemed to remembersomeone telling him he was drinking more these
days, but a lot had happenedrecently. He had changed. Could they blame him?
And besides, this was supposedto be a party!
Alison stared after the Doctor. Had he just completely ignored her? He was
nowstanding with his back to her, hand in the air, seemingly staring into
space. Shewas starting to think that maybe he was a few fries short of a
Happy Meal.She shuddered as a drop of icy water landed on the back of her
neck. She lookedup. It felt like somebody was running cold fingertips down
her spine. Sheer wallsof dank, mould-infested rock stretched up above to
the gloomy roof. It was likesome great, petrified cathedral. Not far away,
just beyond the motionless Doctor,stood a squat, crumbling base of rock. It
looked like some kind of crude altar, butshe couldn't be sure. A stone
trough ran down from the altar. A trough for what?Whatever it was, the rock
surrounding it was stained jet black. And where was thatbreeze coming from?
She turned three hundred and sixty degrees, but there didn'tseem to be any
kind of entrance or exit. There was a heap of slick boulders, piledup in a
massive heap behind the TARDIS. Whatever had happened, Alison knewshe
didn't like it so it was time to grab the Doctor and get the hell out of
here. Shestarted to move towards...
... the hospital bed. Her Nana looked beautiful, propped up by a ludicrous
amountof pillows.What's wrong, pet? Nana asked, her voice small and
croaky.Nothing, Alison replied, confused for a second. She looked around
the room. Theflowers her mum brought every day. The plastic water jug. The
heart monitor,punctuating the silence with its regular beat.You're not
off, are you?Big, grey eyes gazed back at her.Alison smiled, trying not to
look sad, just like her Mum had told her. Course not,Nana.
... and would you believe it, the treasure turned out to be nothing more
than alovely bunch of coconuts!The Doctor's smile widened as his guests
responded warmly to his story.Dash fine story, old boy, said the Colonel,
ruddy-faced, pumping the Doctor'shand vigorously. Worked up quite an
appetite listening to your exploits, Doctor.
Most kind, Colonel, but, as I always said, you could work up an appetite
snoringthe day away in your armchair.The room felt silent, social tension
ripe in the air. The guests shifteduncomfortably. Had the Doctor gone too
far this time? The silence lasted a secondlonger before the colonel erupted
into laughter, his face reddening a shade deeper.The rest of the entourage
followed suit, social grace restored.The colonel slapped the Doctor on the
back and moved off, his eyes on thewaitress who had just passed. The Doctor
smiled good naturedly. The old rogue.Left alone for the minute, the Doctor
let his eyes roam the room. Where was she?Why did she always wander off
when he was in full flow?He felt the gentlest of touches on the back of his
neck, causing the Doctor toscrunch up his shoulders instinctively.Stop
it! he giggled. The finger persevered. You know I hate being tickled.
TheDoctor laughed out loud, turning and grabbing the hand, wincing...
... as the acrid stench hit his nostrils, throwing his arms up to protect
himself fromthe far away blast of another explosion. The grit stung against
his eyes, morebombs thudding in the distance, connecting with the scorched,
decimated earth.He stumbled across the rubble, climbing as high as he could
to survey the carnagebefore him, spots of white flesh and ripped uniforms
acting as markers for the deadbeneath the ruins.
Alison held her Nana's tissue thin hand. She could almost see the weak
pulsefighting its way through the vein in her arm. For her Nana's sake she
fought backthe tears, biting her lip so hard it hurt.What's wrong, pet?
her Nana asked.Before she could answer, the radio in the corner of the room
crackled with static,before bursting into life. Alison turned...
... her arms in the air, surrounded by a throb of bodies, all dancing, arms
pumpingin time to the wicked beat. The euphoria was overwhelming, a wave of
loverushing throughout the crowd. She moved close to Joe, their faces
almost touching.This is great! she shouted, and let the music take her
to...
... her Nana stirred, eyes flickering, but then she was still.It's
alright, Nana. Go back to sleep. She squeezed the hand that she would
haveclung on to forever, but the touch on her shoulder pulled her
away.She's gone, love. It was her mum, face glistening with tears.The pit
of Alison's stomach fell away and she buried herself in her mum's
chest.After a minute, her mum put her hand under her chin...
... and she looked into Joe's eyes, the music pounding, drowning everything
else
out...

... the Doctor revelled in the laughter of yet another expertly delivered
morsel ofbon mot...
... Alison hugged her mum...

... the Doctor giggled, swatting away the hand...

... the music blasted her ear drums. She loved everyone...

... the battlefield was empty, save for the Doctor. Alone. Victorious...

... the beat goes on...

... the clock struck midnight. The audience laughed. The Doctor frowned,
lookinginto his champagne glass before pouring it onto the floor.Blood
splattered over his shoes.He looked up at the other guests who were happily
taking back huge mouthfuls ofthick, red blood from their overflowing
champagne flutes, letting the stickysubstance pour in slow moving rivulets
down their chins.Something's wrong.Doctor!A lone voice, clear and
bright in the room. The Doctor whipped round, findinghimself in the stark
cold of the chamber. A shaft of light spilled across the stonefloor,
reaching his shoes.The TARDIS doors were open, shining like a beacon, the
Master framed on thethreshold, his hand outstretched. Doctor, take my
hand!The Doctor took a step forward, but hesitated. A playful whisper
breathed in hisear, a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. He turned.
The party was still in fullswing, a sea of faces, waiting for the next
tale. He had a part to play.No! With a definite turn, he wrenched himself
away from the crowd and threwhimself towards the TARDIS and the reaching
hand of the Master...
... who grabbed the Doctor and pulled him inside the TARDIS, his android
strengthhurling him bodily across the control room. The Doctor was
immediately on hisfeet, running for the doors, only to be thrown back by
the Master once again.Get out of my way! Alison's still out there!Do you
really think I'm going to let you go back out there? Look! The
Masterpointed to the scanner screen. Alison was suspended in mid-air over
the altar, armspulled out to the side, her body convulsing as unseen
terrors swarmed around her.The corners of the cavern were growing darker,
shadows moving in from all sides.Do you see them?The Master squinted at
the screen. The shadows? Yes, most intriguing.The Doctor bounded across
to the controls, pouncing on levers and dials like a cat.There's obviously
something out there.
A ghost in the machine, if you will, the Master arrived by the Doctor's
side at amore sedate pace.What do you mean?Really, Doctor, you can be
slow on the uptake sometimes. You weren't alone outthere and I'm not
talking about those hallucinations. There's something else.Something alive.
It reached out to me just after we landed. A presence.Why didn't you warn
us? The Doctor asked, a note of accusation in his voice.Even after all
this time, you still can't bring yourself to trust me, can you? If
youremember, my dear Doctor, yourself and Miss Cheney did leave the ship
ratherquickly. I believe the word I'm looking for is... flounce?The Doctor
glared.It doesn't change anything, Doctor. There's still something out
there.Something in the rock?Exactly.The Doctor fell silent for a
second, his mind racing.And something extremely hungry.Now, it was the
Master's turn to look bemused. The Doctor meanwhile, beganjabbing at this
control and that, throwing random switches and pulling leversalmost as if
he knew what he was doing.You've heard of the stone tape effect I take
it?The Master groaned.We're not going to have one of your tiresome
lectures now are we?I'll never forget how they jeered dear old Lethbridge
back at Cambridge. He wasreally quite shaken, but I soon rallied around.
Thomas, I said, the closed cloistersof academia will never embrace the
freethinker. I should know.The Master ran a hand through his hair,
fighting the irritation that threatened tobubble to the surface.Your point
being? And do I need to remind you that the delightful Miss Cheneyappears
to be in mortal danger?Now who's being slow on the uptake? the Doctor
asked. On the scanner, theshadows moved ever closer to Alison. Thomas
theorised that ghosts and ghouliesweren't visitors from another plane of
existence but simply recordings of extremeor primal emotion.And that the
physical environment, in this case the rock, acted as a recordingmedium to
preserve this charming scene for posterity, the Master
concluded.Precisely. When a person sees what popular fiction throughout
the Universe callsa ghost, their mind acts like a tape recorder playing
back the images in the stone.But this is a slightly more... tangible
problem, is it not?The Doctor tutted. Of course it is. We're not dealing
with a mere recording, butthe principle is the same. Whatever is trapped in
that rock is sentient and feedingoff our memories like some... The Doctor
struggled for the words, Psychicvampire.Melodramatic, but somewhat
appropriate.
Whatever this mood-sucker is, I think it's been asleep for a very long
time, andour arrival awoke it from its slumber.Triumphantly, the Doctor
hit a final switch with a flourish.There! I've reprogrammed the TARDIS
scanner to focus in on the psionicresonance within the cavern. We should be
able to see what Alison is seeing.Look.The image on the scanner screen
shifted, as if through heat haze and the Doctorgasped as a barrage of
scenes flashed before them.
... A coffin being lowered to the ground...

... Wet, black blood spilling across an altar...

... The heavy beat of a dance track...

... Wet, black blood spilling across an altar...

... The tenderness of a dark bedroom...

... Wet, black blood spilling across an altar...

... Opening a present under the shadow of a sparkling Christmas tree...

... Alison pulling the trigger, the guard's brains splattering across the
metal of the
wall...

The Doctor's hand slammed down onto the console. Wait! That's isn't
Alison'smemory.I would hope not, unless we're harbouring a murderer.We
are. You!A quizzical smile lingered around the Master's lips. I must
confess, the scene doeshave some familiarity about it.It's your
memory.What exactly are you implying, Doctor?You and I! We are
inextricably and uniquely linked to this ship. But you evenmore so. The
Doctor pointed at the Master. I designed you and the TARDIS tobe
inseparable and somehow it's your consciousness that has awakened the
beast.The puzzlement was replaced with a knowing smile.How flattering.
It's so nice to be the organ grinder once again and not the... The words
died in the Master's throat as his eyes spun upwards. A faceplate
swungoutwards, revealing the Master's android reality. The Doctor lifted
his hand awayfrom the deactivation switch on the console.The TARDIS
shuddered, buffeted by an unseen energy wave. The Doctor grabbedthe
controls to steady himself.
You didn't like that, did you? he shouted up to ceiling, but the
momentarytriumph was destroyed by Alison's scream of agony on the scanner
screen.Leave her alone! the Doctor nearly screamed, slamming his fist
down on thecontrols in frustration.The image on the scanner began to change
rapidly, cycling through a masscacophony of conflicting emotions.
In the chamber, the shadows drew closer to the suspended form of Alison,
waveafter wave of psionic energy slamming into her. One of the shadows took
on amore human form, its whispery, incoherent form rising up, its raised
armbrandishing what could have once been a dagger.
The Doctor raced around the controls, flicking switches, turning dials, but
nothinghad any effect.You've had the canapes! he shouted at the scanner,
And now you wanteverything else on the menu! The TARDIS was slammed
sideways and theDoctor was thrown to the ground. Behind him, the Master's
metallic featuressparked with tendrils of blue energy for a split second.
The Doctor sat bolt upright,looking at his consciously absent companion.
Still connected, he said quietly. Iwonder... Alison screamed again,
launching the Doctor into action.You're a leech! he called up to the
ceiling, ducking underneath the console andreturning with a thick coil of
copper wire that was connected to the console. Avampire! He unrolled the
coil of wire and ran to the Master, attaching two bulkycrocodile clips to
either side of the android's temples. Feeding on our emotions!The
Doctor's hands were a blur across the controls, and the central column
beganto vibrate with power, throbbing up into the vaulted ceiling. An
eruption of sparkscast a halo around the Master's head, the ribbon of blue
energy snaking down thewires and into the depths of the controls.You used
him as your conduit, didn't you? Recognised an evil almost equal toyour
own, and you used that to get me. The Doctor glanced at the scanner.
Theshadows were drawing ever nearer. And Alison.Whatever you are,
whatever evil created you, you must have caused terror beyondbelief... 
The Doctor placed his hand firmly on a lever. But let me tell you,
you'vegot nothing on my companion here. Whatever atrocities you've
committed, he'sperpetrated worse. If it's evil you want, then it's evil you
shall have!The Doctor pulled the lever.
A wave of energy blasted from the Police Box's lantern, zigzagging across
thedarkness of the chamber to envelope the still suspended Alison.The
shadows drew back from the cold blue aura cast by the energy wave,
lightingup the chamber, and the cracked and broken altar, stained with long
spilt blood.
The Doctor's entire body was suffused with coruscating energy, bridging the
circuitbetween the Master and the console. His hand whitened around the
lever as pulsesof energy flowed from the Master, streaming down the
connecting wires. TheMaster's still form began to glow hot. Waves of
violent power cascaded up throughthe central column.
The aura around Alison burned incandescently. At first they cowered against
thelight as their victims had cowered centuries before as they'd
slaughtered and fed onthe spilt blood. Then, as if the craving renewed its
hold on their souls, they beganto inch forward, dim eyes full of this new
banquet. For a second they seemed togrow, feeding off the energy all
around, features forming on their wraith-like form.Eyes burned. Nails tore
through the air. Teeth bared.Alison screamed, pain searing through her as
the remnants of the ancient cultswelled up and advanced step by step to
plunge the knife that would burst herheart.
The Doctor screamed, the energy wave from the console lapping around his
arms,the Master's memories scorching through his mind, atrocities he could
never haveimagined.
The shadows screamed, fingers clawing the air, a banshee wail soaring in
pitch asthe wave reached its crescendo of intensity. Such evil to gorge on.
Such loathing.Too much to contain, too much to resist. Too much to...
A final surge of raw power flared across the cavern, splintering the
shadows one byone as the cacophony reached its peak. The ancient altar,
cracked and ancient,exploded into dust, the final victim of the tidal wave
of hate.As the echo died, Alison's body thudded to the ground.And then
silence.
Alison pulled the tartan blanket closer as the Doctor draped it over her
shoulders,absently pulling at a thread in the stitching of the old leather
chair. She didn't lookup as a glass was thrust into her still shaking hand.
The golden liquid swilledinside. She sniffed it. Brandy.It's a good one,
so sip it.Alison glanced up at the flaccid Master, leaning like a
discarded puppet by thecentral column.What happened to him? she
asked.The entity was using the Master as a conduit to the TARDIS and us.
His psionicessence, if you will, was broadcast by the ship on our arrival.
It's curious. Neithermy intelligence, nor the TARDIS's for that matter,
awoke it from its snooze, butthe Master must have something in common with
the creature that struck a nerve.Perhaps it's because he can't leave the
ship, just like that thing couldn't leave thecave.
A shadow passed over the Doctor's features.Perhaps. Whatever, the
empathetic link, no doubt boosted by the ship's telepathiccircuits, was
enough to trigger the stone tape effect. Vampirism at its most primaland
brutal.The grandfather clock at the threshold to the TARDIS inner chambers
ticked by ahandful of torturous seconds.And so... And so, I was forced
to deactivate him. It was the only way to loosen the entity'shold on you
and get us out of there.The odour of the liquor stung Alison's nostrils.
Isn't that a bit too easy? TheDoctor didn't reply, looking absently at a
control dial.I said, isn't that too easy?He looked up. What do you
mean?I thought he was your friend.The words seemed to faze him, just for
a second.He was... he is.Alison snorted with laughter. For somebody
who's so clever you can't half bestupid sometimes, Doctor.The Doctor
narrowed his eyes. I beg your pardon?It doesn't work like that in the
real world, Doctor. My world. You don't get toswitch friends off when
things get tough.I had no choice.Alison nodded sadly and sniffed at her
drink, considering another mouthful. Shelooked the Doctor in the eyes.What
happens when you have to turn me off?The Doctor kept her gaze but didn't
answer. Alison threw her head back anddowned the brandy in a single gulp.
The blanket fell silently to the floor as shepushed herself up from the
chair and disappeared up the staircase to her room.The Doctor waited for
Alison's steps to fade into the distance before turning backto the console.
He paused, thinking, before throwing the switch. The Master's bodytensed as
power surged through relays and circuits, motors and servos buzzinguntil
all was calm.The two companions stared at each other wordlessly, the
Master's eyebrow givingthe merest hint of a twitch. The android glanced
down, brushed a flake of dustfrom his pristine cuff and coolly strolled out
of the control room, hands claspedbehind his back.The Doctor was alone,
save for the throb of the engines in flight. As the clockstruck an
irrelevant hour, he reached for the decanter and poured himself a verylong,
very stiff drink.

AUTHORS' NOTES 
Cavan Scott and Mark Wright are two long-time Doctor Who fans known for
their highly-rated Big Finish audio plays. Their website is at 
www.beyondtheforge.co.uk 
Cav and Mark's comments on the writing of the story follow: So here we are
in the company of the undead once more. Just how did we come to write for
vampires in the Doctor Who universe yet again? 
Apparently, Project: Twilight, an audio drama we'd penned for Big Finish
Productions in 2001 went down well. It featured Colin Baker as the Sixth
incarnation of the Doctor fighting vampires on the banks of the river
Thames. The vampires in this case were of a fairly traditional bent, albeit
in their guise of mockney gangsters. 
When we were approached, on the back of Project: Twilight, to pen the
Doctor Who segment of this short story collection, we saw the chance to do
something different, twisting the theme of vampirism slightly. We also saw
the opportunity to combine the running theme with elements of paranormal
investigation, in which we both share a passing interest. 
More than this, the major pull for writing The Feast of the Stone was to be
able to contribute towards the mythos of a brand new incarnation of Doctor
Who. The Scream of the Shalka introduced Richard E Grant as the Doctor, a
totally different Time Lord to any we had experienced before. With his
former arch enemy, the Master now a robotic ally, and the human presence of
Alison Cheney as a new travelling companion, the TARDIS had its most
interesting crew in years on board for new adventures. 
With such a short word count, we realised that action would have to be kept
to a minimum, but the story flowed very easily from within the characters
themselves. We were especially keen to use the Master to drive the story,
and from there examine the dynamic of the characters and their
interactions. 
This new Doctor is a traveller, much as he always had been, but this Doctor
is haunted, running from a new demon eating at his soul. He is also an
aesthete - he likes fine wine and expensive brandy (another new trait for
this Doctor is his predilection for alcohol). He craves social company, yet
is rude and standoffish, and we wanted to bring that contradiction to light
in the contrast between the party flashbacks, and his inability to relate
to Alison in the closing moments aboard the TARDIS. 
Our editor, Ann, requested a blanket ban on any continuity references or
in-jokes connected to the original television series or books. (No I
didn't, Ed) However, as the Doctor regales his party audience, we managed
to sneak past a crafty reference to Quarks, robotic servitors seen in the
Patrick Troughton television story, The Dominators. Since then, they have
become shorthand for things that are a bit, well... rubbish. The punchline
to the Doctor's joke also includes a reference to Slarvians. We created the
Slarvians for an abandoned Big Finish project, but Mark had picked them up
for his soon-to-be released Tomorrow People adventure, The Slarvian Menace.

The synopsis for The Feast of the Stone was sent to BBCi in an extremely
developed stage, complete with snatches of dialogue already written. This
helped us put the essence of the characters across much more easily. It had
been some months since we'd worked on anything together. 
Aside from several short stories and three Doctor Who audio dramas for Big
Finish, our writing paths had taken separate forks recently. Mark chose to
pursue a freelance career, whilst Cav continued as a magazine editor. Solo
projects have followed, with Mark penning several film and TV guides, as
well as recently completing an adaptation for audio of the acclaimed Bryan
Talbot comic book, The Adventures of Luther Arkwright. Cav meanwhile has
swapped the TARDIS for Mega City One with the Judge Dredd audio adventure,
For King and Country, due for release from Big Finish in June. He's also
penned October's Tomorrow People adventure The Warlock's Ring for them, and
has other projects in development. 
However, working on The Feast of the Stone reminded us how much fun it is
writing together, something we'd forgotten in recent months. The
partnership is now well and truly revived, with plans to work together on
various projects in the near future. 

