9th Doctor (con't)

 
‘So what is this place?’ asked the Doctor casually. ‘Underground bunker?’

‘High security zone,’ the leader said casually. ‘This continent is officially uninhabited, and the nearest settlement is around fifty thousand kilometres away.’

‘Is it?’ the time traveler asked innocently. ‘I just trusted to my ship’s intuition.’

‘You mean your flight computer malfunctioned?’ one of the other Thals asked, curious.

‘Something like that,’ the Doctor replied vaguely. If any of the Thals had noticed the TARDIS, they certainly hadn’t recognized the strange blue box as the mythical transport of ancient legends – assuming the ancient legends existed. ‘So what’s all the security for? Are you in some sort of trouble?’

‘We shouldn’t be discussing restricted information with intruders,’ said the leader, though clearly she was enjoying having someone new to talk to. ‘Suffice it to say, important people work here. Even if you really are just a lost tourist, you’re in a lot of trouble trespassing here.’

‘Story of my life,’ the Doctor shrugged. ‘Or at least a strong recurring narrative theme, anyway.’

* * *

‘Once I see the face-mask I can work out exactly who’s tomb with a view we’re in, like reading the inscription of a grave stone. We’re not going to disturb anything here or steal anything…’

‘Even though we could,’ said Adam, examining the masks and necklaces on display near the carriage. ‘Purest gold, absolutely priceless…’

The Doctor, face aghast, turned to look at him. ‘Excuse me,’ he said in a low, sharp voice. ‘Are you suggesting we pawn this stuff at some twenty-first century auction website?’

‘Well, couldn’t we?’ Adam retorted. ‘Just the gold plate on this wood would pay off America’s gross national debt! And no one knows we’re here, no one would know if we took anything. It wouldn’t change history, would it? The archaeologists would just think it was tomb-robbers…’

‘It would be tomb-robbers!’ snapped the Doctor. ‘That’s precisely what we’d be doing! The only difference between that and digging up a grave to help yourself the corpse’s pockets is you’d be using my TARDIS – and that’s not on. We do not loot history! Rose, tell him!’

Rose tore her gaze from the shadows. ‘Yeah, the Doctor’s right. Whoever’s buried here, they were a living person and they’re entitled to rest in peace…’

‘Until the archaeologists and the other tomb-raiders do it,’ Adam retorted. ‘It’s already happened, this stuff is going to be stolen. Why shouldn’t we help ourselves?’

* * *

Rose realized that they were in some kind of pub, and Captain Jack was looking through binoculars at the blackboards on the walls, with the drinks scrawled in chalk. ‘I think I’ll order… it.’

‘“It?”’ echoed the Doctor, unimpressed.

‘As in “all of”,’ Jack explained. ‘Everything.’

‘Well, you’re paying,’ said Rose, having to yell to be heard.

Captain Jack delved into his jacket pocket and took out what appeared to be single pound coin. As he held it out, Rose saw the coin had become a diamond-like gem. ‘It’s a mesomorphic rock, should cover the costs. Don’t spend it all at once, though.’

‘Those,’ said the Doctor in a smug, holier-than-thou voice, ‘are illegal tender in seven galaxies. Including this one. The staff have probably been taught how to spot it.’

‘Yeah, but given it takes four hours minimum to be sure, and given how packed this place is, I think they’ll take it,’ Captain Jack retorted. ‘Besides, who would suspect a pretty girl with brown eyes?’

‘Never been to an estate, then,’ Rose replied, then began to struggle her way through the crowd over to the bar.

* * *

‘Still, someone’s alive,’ said Rose, trying to stay cheerful. She called into the darkness. ‘Hello?’

‘Hello?’ came the faint response. It was Rose’s voice.

‘You were right about the echo,’ Rose told Jack.

‘An echo,’ said the Doctor, joining them at the doorway. ‘Or a mimic.’ He pulled a slim pen-torch from his pocket and shone it down the corridor ahead. The corridor was quite messy compared to the one they’d just left; rather than neat arrangements of organized plants, flowering vines and thick foliage spilled over onto the floor, or tangled and matted themselves on the walls and ceilings despite the lack of any trellises.

The passageway was deserted.

‘Maybe it was a trick of the, well, not light,’ Rose mused. ‘But noise.’

‘The quiet playing tricks?’ The Doctor didn’t sound convinced. ‘Come on, let’s start with the new seedlings section. There must have been someone there when the emergency happened. Bound to be clues.’

‘Did this distress call have any details?’ asked Jack as they moved down the corridor.

‘Nope,’ said the Doctor unhelpfully. ‘Just three words in no particular order.’

‘SOS?’ Rose guessed.

‘Somebody Help Me,’ the Doctor replied.

* * *

The voice that had filled their minds spoke once again. We are affecting your retinas so you can see us, that is correct. We have no true forms, no physical bodies, for you to perceive or find comfort in.

‘What are they?’ asked Jack, his voice unusually hushed. Like Rose, he felt like he was in the presence of something that should be shown deference. ‘Some kind of electromagnetic radiation?’

‘Something like that, yeah,’ said the Doctor, completely unimpressed.

We are composed of electrical energy, the basic raw existence of which all primal matter is composed. There is no need to fear us, the voice went on. All participants’ physical needs are supplied, and no harm comes to anyone. They came from their own spheres of their own free will to yield their minds to us. You yourselves are not in any discomfort or pain?

‘No,’ Rose admitted.

‘But we didn’t come here of our own free will,’ Jack added.

Your vessel arrived in our complex, the voice replied. We did not bring it here.

‘Could be a malfunction,’ the Doctor conceded. ‘Could be anything. But why do you need to do any of this? Why do you need to do a massive census survey on at least five million species in that one corridor?’

We require their input, said the voice. It obviously didn’t feel like giving any more detail.

‘You’re recording everything in their brains,’ Jack said. ‘That’s a lot of input.’

It is required, the voice repeated.

‘Why?’ Rose challenged.

The explanation is both long and complicated.

‘Then talk quickly and use simple words,’ the Doctor retorted.

* * *

Six novellas set in the universe of the Ninth Doctor, featuring enemies and friends old and new. In a universe changed top-to-bottom by the Time War, does the Last of the Time Lords still have a place in this new order? Given options to reclaim the past or embrace the future, the Doctor will depend on his companions more than ever before - but will they be up to the challenge?

Coming soon from Nigel Verkoff Publishing

a subsidiary of the Order of St. Macka the Usurper Inc...