Prologue
“I now pronounce you man and wife.”
“Lovely.” Autumn looked around the chamber, where the two races gathered on either side of the aisle, looking up at her expectantly. “Well, hasn’t this been a nice ceremony, I’ll just be off-“
“You may now kiss the bride,” added the minister.
“Right…” Autumn nodded. Her eyes wandered over to the walls of the chamber. Three windows. Only one I could fit through. She stared at it, trying to check its measurements, then traced her hand around her waist. I need to cut down on the biscuits… “Well, I’ll…” she tried to beam convincingly at her husband, an eight-foot, four-limbed, three-eyed beast. “I’ll enjoy doing that when we get the chance, eh, hubby?”
“You may kiss the bride now,” clarified the minister.
Now. Great.
Not that Autumn would have minded the eight feet, the four limbs, or even the three eyes. But the fact that their first kiss would reveal her true identity as a human from the far future somehow made him less desirable. Also – she was keen to remind herself – this would be revealed by her imminent death, as the venom on his saliva would kill her in the space of ten seconds.
One door. One lock. A million possible combinations. Three guesses. The spectators were losing their patience, and their teeth were beginning to show. She wouldn’t have time for one guess. Come on, Doctor…
“Pucker up,” grumbled her husband, leaning down. As he did, the sound of a violent breeze filled the chamber, blowing a woman’s hat off on the front row.
“Can someone shut those-“
Before Autumn knew it, she was back in the TARDIS, sighing involuntarily, as the Doctor raced around the console. “I had to sit through readings,” she complained, “and, and, vows-“
“Yes, well, I did tell you to stay and watch the battlements.”
“I did!” yelled Autumn. “I did exactly as you told me, for once!”
“I didn’t tell you to flirt with the security guard!”
“And I didn’t know he had only taken on human form so he could fit in the corridor!” Autumn exhaled, tossing her hat on top of the piano in the TARDIS, which was beginning to fall out of tune. “Where’s Robin?”
“I’m on that one now. At least she doesn’t make any mistakes.” The Doctor parked the TARDIS. Two seconds later, Robin came running in, a purple dress trailing behind her. She slammed the door.
“He saw!” she cried.
“Why? It was fool-proof.” The Doctor sighed. “How did he possibly see?”
“You!” She pointed at the Doctor. “You were in charge of the heating!”
“I turned it up a bit, that’s all-“
“A bit? You turned it up ten degrees! Ten more and I’d be wearing his intestines!”
Autumn folded her arms, interested. “So what happened then?”
“Well, he said he was too hot and took his clothes off.”
“Ah.”
“You said you’d re-attached the head without leaving any marks,” argued the Doctor.
“Yes, and his neck was fine, but I think he probably realised fairly quickly that he had a different body to before.”
“Really?” The Doctor shrugged. “I never do. Right then, let’s go.” Without programming the coordinates in, he tried to get his ship moving. “They don’t want us to leave. Need to put a bit of welly in…”
“Use this!” Autumn pulled a hammer out of her bag.
“I’m not hammering the TARDIS! What sort of idiot thinks that hammering works on an ancient piece of engineered-“
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Autumn ran up to the console and hammered it herself. A few sparks flew off, and the TARDIS kicked into gear. The Doctor dashed frantically around the console, flying it as best he could.
“Going to have to take the shields down to get off…”
The engines wheezed as the Doctor worked away at the atom accelerator, and the ship hurtled off into space. After some turbulence, it settled, and the Doctor stood back, proud of himself. “Just above Earth, present day. High five.” The Doctor’s companions each high-fived him.
“When you say present day, I hope you’re being exact. Because ‘a week’ doesn’t cut it.” Robin waggled her finger at the Doctor. “Not when you’re engaged. Not when your fiancé is expecting you to cook dinner.”
“Can’t you get him to cook it?” asked Autumn.
“The last time he tried to cook macaroni, he burnt it.”
Autumn shuddered. How can you burn macaroni?
“And besides,” Robin added. “It’s parents’ evening tonight.”
“Shall we pick him up a bottle of prosecco on the way down?” asked the Doctor.
“Parents’ evening?” repeated Robin. “I think we should go with six.” The Doctor and Autumn laughed.
Suddenly, the TARDIS lurched, and the Doctor and his companions were thrown on the floor as they tripped on the first ridge at the edge of the console area.
“What’s happening?” cried Robin.
“I think we’ve just bumped into something!” shouted Autumn, over the sound of the TARDIS blasting its way towards Earth.
“But that’s impossible!” exclaimed the Doctor.
“You left your shields off, you idiot!”
“No, I mean that’s impossible!” The Doctor used the console unit to pull himself up and scrutinised the scanner. “We hit another TARDIS…”
He too was thrown backwards, with only a chance to lock onto London before he fell, and the trio plummeted into England’s capital city.
***
The Time Lord stepped out of his TARDIS and surveyed his environment – just off central London. Not the worst place to be trapped.
But the thought refused to leave his mind: he had hit another TARDIS. Theoretically, it could be any: any renegade or even loyal Time Lord, surveying events on planet Earth. Except it wasn’t. Every bone in his body told him that it was his old enemy. His arch-nemesis, the Doctor.
The Master stroked his chin, realising how much he missed having a beard.
“Lovely.” Autumn looked around the chamber, where the two races gathered on either side of the aisle, looking up at her expectantly. “Well, hasn’t this been a nice ceremony, I’ll just be off-“
“You may now kiss the bride,” added the minister.
“Right…” Autumn nodded. Her eyes wandered over to the walls of the chamber. Three windows. Only one I could fit through. She stared at it, trying to check its measurements, then traced her hand around her waist. I need to cut down on the biscuits… “Well, I’ll…” she tried to beam convincingly at her husband, an eight-foot, four-limbed, three-eyed beast. “I’ll enjoy doing that when we get the chance, eh, hubby?”
“You may kiss the bride now,” clarified the minister.
Now. Great.
Not that Autumn would have minded the eight feet, the four limbs, or even the three eyes. But the fact that their first kiss would reveal her true identity as a human from the far future somehow made him less desirable. Also – she was keen to remind herself – this would be revealed by her imminent death, as the venom on his saliva would kill her in the space of ten seconds.
One door. One lock. A million possible combinations. Three guesses. The spectators were losing their patience, and their teeth were beginning to show. She wouldn’t have time for one guess. Come on, Doctor…
“Pucker up,” grumbled her husband, leaning down. As he did, the sound of a violent breeze filled the chamber, blowing a woman’s hat off on the front row.
“Can someone shut those-“
Before Autumn knew it, she was back in the TARDIS, sighing involuntarily, as the Doctor raced around the console. “I had to sit through readings,” she complained, “and, and, vows-“
“Yes, well, I did tell you to stay and watch the battlements.”
“I did!” yelled Autumn. “I did exactly as you told me, for once!”
“I didn’t tell you to flirt with the security guard!”
“And I didn’t know he had only taken on human form so he could fit in the corridor!” Autumn exhaled, tossing her hat on top of the piano in the TARDIS, which was beginning to fall out of tune. “Where’s Robin?”
“I’m on that one now. At least she doesn’t make any mistakes.” The Doctor parked the TARDIS. Two seconds later, Robin came running in, a purple dress trailing behind her. She slammed the door.
“He saw!” she cried.
“Why? It was fool-proof.” The Doctor sighed. “How did he possibly see?”
“You!” She pointed at the Doctor. “You were in charge of the heating!”
“I turned it up a bit, that’s all-“
“A bit? You turned it up ten degrees! Ten more and I’d be wearing his intestines!”
Autumn folded her arms, interested. “So what happened then?”
“Well, he said he was too hot and took his clothes off.”
“Ah.”
“You said you’d re-attached the head without leaving any marks,” argued the Doctor.
“Yes, and his neck was fine, but I think he probably realised fairly quickly that he had a different body to before.”
“Really?” The Doctor shrugged. “I never do. Right then, let’s go.” Without programming the coordinates in, he tried to get his ship moving. “They don’t want us to leave. Need to put a bit of welly in…”
“Use this!” Autumn pulled a hammer out of her bag.
“I’m not hammering the TARDIS! What sort of idiot thinks that hammering works on an ancient piece of engineered-“
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Autumn ran up to the console and hammered it herself. A few sparks flew off, and the TARDIS kicked into gear. The Doctor dashed frantically around the console, flying it as best he could.
“Going to have to take the shields down to get off…”
The engines wheezed as the Doctor worked away at the atom accelerator, and the ship hurtled off into space. After some turbulence, it settled, and the Doctor stood back, proud of himself. “Just above Earth, present day. High five.” The Doctor’s companions each high-fived him.
“When you say present day, I hope you’re being exact. Because ‘a week’ doesn’t cut it.” Robin waggled her finger at the Doctor. “Not when you’re engaged. Not when your fiancé is expecting you to cook dinner.”
“Can’t you get him to cook it?” asked Autumn.
“The last time he tried to cook macaroni, he burnt it.”
Autumn shuddered. How can you burn macaroni?
“And besides,” Robin added. “It’s parents’ evening tonight.”
“Shall we pick him up a bottle of prosecco on the way down?” asked the Doctor.
“Parents’ evening?” repeated Robin. “I think we should go with six.” The Doctor and Autumn laughed.
Suddenly, the TARDIS lurched, and the Doctor and his companions were thrown on the floor as they tripped on the first ridge at the edge of the console area.
“What’s happening?” cried Robin.
“I think we’ve just bumped into something!” shouted Autumn, over the sound of the TARDIS blasting its way towards Earth.
“But that’s impossible!” exclaimed the Doctor.
“You left your shields off, you idiot!”
“No, I mean that’s impossible!” The Doctor used the console unit to pull himself up and scrutinised the scanner. “We hit another TARDIS…”
He too was thrown backwards, with only a chance to lock onto London before he fell, and the trio plummeted into England’s capital city.
***
The Time Lord stepped out of his TARDIS and surveyed his environment – just off central London. Not the worst place to be trapped.
But the thought refused to leave his mind: he had hit another TARDIS. Theoretically, it could be any: any renegade or even loyal Time Lord, surveying events on planet Earth. Except it wasn’t. Every bone in his body told him that it was his old enemy. His arch-nemesis, the Doctor.
The Master stroked his chin, realising how much he missed having a beard.
The Eighth Doctor Adventures
Series 2 - Episode 1
The Magic Box
Written by Janine Rivers
“Don’t stay up too late, just because you’re away from home. No hanging around people with flu. No smoking anything. Always have safe s-“
“-and on that note,” interjected Tommy, “I think it’s time I headed off. Thanks for the lift.”
“Just be careful!” insisted his mum.
“Christ on a bike love,” complained Tommy’s dad, “this is the third year he’s done it and he hasn’t broken a rule yet! Leave the poor lad alone!”
“Sorry. Oh, look at you, all grown up.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. Here we go.
“Come give your mum a kiss.” Without giving him much choice, she reached into the back and planted a wet, lipstick-infused kiss on his forehead.
“Okay you two,” said Tommy, “take care, and no voting in any elections. We all know what happened the last time I let you do that…”
He smiled at Mary, his six year-old sister, and gave her their secret high-five before leaving the car and waving the family off.
“Tommy!”
Tommy turned. “Natalie! What a coincidence.” It hadn’t been a coincidence; Tommy was later than expected, and Natalie had been stood waiting an hour for him, in which time she had lost the feeling in her fingers. But he went with coincidence so as not to embarrass her. They embraced each other in a hug. “Good New Year?” asked Tommy.
“Mediocre. We had more people than we expected and had to buy chocolate boxes in Poundland as ‘belated Christmas presents’. And then we ran out of wrapping paper, so we had to use tinfoil.”
“I knew it was a mistake buying your mum the Gavin and Stacey boxset.” They laughed and started walking.
***
Tommy and Natalie sat down in their usual seats in the lecture theatre – around the middle, slightly to the right. Natalie turned to the woman next to her: a slim, blonde woman with attractive but sharp features and a heavy layer of makeup.
“Hi. I don’t think we’ve met before.”
“Hi!” The woman offered a friendly handshake: firm, especially for a young woman. “Eve Winters. So you’ve done the past two years here, then?”
Natalie nodded, then gestured to Tommy. “This is my boyfriend, by the way. Tommy. And I’m Natalie, since I completely forgot to tell you!” She laughed nervously. Eve looked Tommy up and down, but not disapprovingly, making Natalie feel a little uncomfortable. “So what about you?” asked Natalie. “Where have you been studying?”
“Oh, another university, far away, you wouldn’t know it.”
“Which-“
“Oh look!” Eve changed the subject by pointing down to the stage. “I think that’s our lecturer.” The room fell quickly silent.
The lecturer was an ordinary-looking man. He had an old face, but, Natalie suspected, he was probably younger than he looked – they often were, and the short black beard probably aged him, too. He wore a dull grey suit, yet he somehow drew you in as he spoke – another with perfect Received Pronunciation.
“New Year,” he began. “Always a mix of excitement and willingness; that fresh feeling that you could do everything so much better this time around. You tell yourself: ‘I’ll keep my notes organised! I’ll start extended reading as soon as I get home!’ And then… you don’t.” The students in the theatre laughed. “Anyway, never mind that, there are far more important matters at hand.” He tried to conceal a smile. A similar thought crossed Tommy’s and Natalie’s minds: he’s odd. “My name is Professor Stream, and yes, before you ask, that is definitely a… human… surname. But I am qualified here to teach, you see, because I have a master’s degree. A master’s.” He smiled, as if a master’s was somehow unusual for a lecturer. “With a capital ‘M’.”
***
“-and on that note,” interjected Tommy, “I think it’s time I headed off. Thanks for the lift.”
“Just be careful!” insisted his mum.
“Christ on a bike love,” complained Tommy’s dad, “this is the third year he’s done it and he hasn’t broken a rule yet! Leave the poor lad alone!”
“Sorry. Oh, look at you, all grown up.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. Here we go.
“Come give your mum a kiss.” Without giving him much choice, she reached into the back and planted a wet, lipstick-infused kiss on his forehead.
“Okay you two,” said Tommy, “take care, and no voting in any elections. We all know what happened the last time I let you do that…”
He smiled at Mary, his six year-old sister, and gave her their secret high-five before leaving the car and waving the family off.
“Tommy!”
Tommy turned. “Natalie! What a coincidence.” It hadn’t been a coincidence; Tommy was later than expected, and Natalie had been stood waiting an hour for him, in which time she had lost the feeling in her fingers. But he went with coincidence so as not to embarrass her. They embraced each other in a hug. “Good New Year?” asked Tommy.
“Mediocre. We had more people than we expected and had to buy chocolate boxes in Poundland as ‘belated Christmas presents’. And then we ran out of wrapping paper, so we had to use tinfoil.”
“I knew it was a mistake buying your mum the Gavin and Stacey boxset.” They laughed and started walking.
***
Tommy and Natalie sat down in their usual seats in the lecture theatre – around the middle, slightly to the right. Natalie turned to the woman next to her: a slim, blonde woman with attractive but sharp features and a heavy layer of makeup.
“Hi. I don’t think we’ve met before.”
“Hi!” The woman offered a friendly handshake: firm, especially for a young woman. “Eve Winters. So you’ve done the past two years here, then?”
Natalie nodded, then gestured to Tommy. “This is my boyfriend, by the way. Tommy. And I’m Natalie, since I completely forgot to tell you!” She laughed nervously. Eve looked Tommy up and down, but not disapprovingly, making Natalie feel a little uncomfortable. “So what about you?” asked Natalie. “Where have you been studying?”
“Oh, another university, far away, you wouldn’t know it.”
“Which-“
“Oh look!” Eve changed the subject by pointing down to the stage. “I think that’s our lecturer.” The room fell quickly silent.
The lecturer was an ordinary-looking man. He had an old face, but, Natalie suspected, he was probably younger than he looked – they often were, and the short black beard probably aged him, too. He wore a dull grey suit, yet he somehow drew you in as he spoke – another with perfect Received Pronunciation.
“New Year,” he began. “Always a mix of excitement and willingness; that fresh feeling that you could do everything so much better this time around. You tell yourself: ‘I’ll keep my notes organised! I’ll start extended reading as soon as I get home!’ And then… you don’t.” The students in the theatre laughed. “Anyway, never mind that, there are far more important matters at hand.” He tried to conceal a smile. A similar thought crossed Tommy’s and Natalie’s minds: he’s odd. “My name is Professor Stream, and yes, before you ask, that is definitely a… human… surname. But I am qualified here to teach, you see, because I have a master’s degree. A master’s.” He smiled, as if a master’s was somehow unusual for a lecturer. “With a capital ‘M’.”
***
“He barely even talked about the subject,” laughed Natalie, sharing a pint with Tommy and their group of friends down at the student’s union bar. Can’t Fight Against The Youth by Panic! At the Disco was playing in the background, and a first-year was already legless behind them. “And he got so many details wrong, like he hadn’t read any of the texts.”
“But like he’d been there.” Tommy looked pensively at Natalie. “Like he’d read a different version.”
“Well, he’s weird,” decided Natalie. “Who even is he?”
“I’ll tell you what, it was a nightmare getting here, the weather’s crap… I really need a drink.”
“I’ll buy!”
The pair turned around, not even realising that Eve Winters, from the theatre, had plonked herself down on the stall next to them.
***
“And she turned to him,” said Natalie, struggling to finish her story giggling, “and said ‘do you by any chance play piano’?” Tommy cracked up. Eve, the most sober by a country mile, laughed with an uncomfortable amount of restraint. “And we knew, we knew she was matchmaking for him behind his back, without a clue!”
“Ah…” Tommy took a gulp of his drink. “Your mum is brilliant.”
“She really is…”
“So where do you two come from?” asked Eve, chipping in for the first time in a while.
“Well, at the moment, a student house,” said Tommy, slurring slightly. “Notting Hill. But next year we’d like to… um…?” He looked to Natalie, having forgotten where that point was going.
“Yeah.” Natalie laughed. “Do a thing.” She looked at her watch. “Oh God, we’d better… train.”
“You mean go,” corrected Tommy, “to the stop, thing.”
“That’s it.” Natalie clicked her fingers and stepped off the stall, nearly stumbling. “Sh-“
Tommy tripped as well, realising how many he’d had: it was always the jelly-legs on leaving the table that made you realise.
“I need to get a train back to my place,” said Eve, getting off her stool with an extraordinary amount of grace. “I’ll walk with you.”
“Where do you live, then?” asked Natalie as they left the union.
“Oh…” Eve held the door open for them. “You wouldn’t know it.”
***
“Ah, God, and then…” Tommy stumbled, suddenly paying attention to his surroundings. He looked around – every direction was the same; a stranglehold of vegetation. They had found themselves, somehow, in the middle of a forest in the early hours of the morning.
Yet – and this could have been the effect of the alcohol – there was nothing intimidating about it; no uneasy feeling that they were being watched, or of mystical paranoia. The moonlight, peaking through the branches and illuminating the forest a calm, autumnal blue, made clear the shapes of the trees as they stood like silhouettes – or, in the cases of the stranger-shaped ones, glove puppets – against it. There was a mist around them, and the air was cold and refreshing but not too biting. Natalie made sure her scarf was wrapped tightly around her.
“Where’s Eve?” questioned Natalie. “I didn’t see her go.” Neither had Tommy.
Tommy was drawn to something else, a few yards away from them. Against a larger, sturdier tree was balanced a blue box, its colour just discernible from a patch on the window illuminated by moonlight. He put his hand on it, and could almost feel it humming; but he was already swinging with his own weight from the alcohol, and couldn’t quite be sure.
“It says…” Natalie tried to examine the writing at the top. “Police…”
“It’s not…” Tommy tried, and failed, to describe the instinct which had overpowered him and drawn him to the box that definitely didn’t belong to the police. “It’s like a sort of… magic…”
“I don’t like it.” Natalie pulled him back. “Let’s go.”
“But…”
Natalie insisted, and they left. Tommy turned, where he could, to catch a glimpse of the box; but after just a few steps it was gone.
***
The cream ceiling was the first thing Tommy saw as he woke up, and the sunlight shining in. His curtains were wide open, and he was back in his room. Somehow, he’d managed to change into his pyjamas. He tried to summon memories of the night before. His last recollection was the box in the forest. After that…
He got up and went to the door, running his hand through his hair to keep it out of his eyes. It was thick, and could always be directed quite easily.
“Natalie?”
Natalie was downstairs with a cup of tea. Both were nursing slight hangovers – mildly annoying throats, gently throbbing headaches, and very slight nausea, but nothing near what they had expected the night before. “Do you remember how we got home last night?”
“Not a clue. The last thing I remember was the forest.”
“Same.” Tommy gazed out of the window. It was a frosty morning, the first since last winter. “What forest was that?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure there aren’t any forests in London. I’ve even had a quick Google.”
“Resourceful as ever.” Tommy patted Natalie on the shoulder.
“I didn’t like it.” Natalie shuddered, then rested her hand over Tommy’s. “The forest, I mean. And the box. It felt… weird. And that Eve woman. Who is she?”
“She’s certainly the enigmatic type.” Tommy flicked the kettle on. “What do we even know about her?”
“Her accent’s south England, so why wouldn’t we know where she’s from? I don’t have her down as the country type.” Natalie took a sip of her tea. “Mind you, I don’t have her down as any type. I can’t place her. Nothing fits. And that lecturer…”
“Give him a chance!” joked Tommy. “He’s only just started! We all say crazy stuff when we’re nervous.”
“There’s something about this year. We’ve only been back a day.” Natalie looked up at Tommy. “Do you think I’m going mad?”
“We stumbled upon a magical forest and woke up with no recollection of how we arrived home. I think anyone would go mad after that…”
They were silent for a minute as the kettle finished boiling. Tommy poured himself a tea. “No lectures today. Have you got work?”
“I’m doing the two o’clock shift.” Natalie yawned. “I love Pizza Hut but there’s only so many teenagers trying every drink in order off the drinks machine that I can take…”
Tommy laughed. “I need to look for a new job. If only shops wouldn’t keep shutting.”
“Well, it’s not like you need the money.” Natalie bit her tongue. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that sound so bitter. I just-“
“Natalie.” Tommy smiled at his girlfriend. “Please don’t worry about it.”
***
“Table for one?” Natalie looked down, pretending to be undergoing the usual formalities.
“Well, if nobody loves me…”
The pair both couldn’t hold it in any longer and embraced each other in a warm hug. “Good shift?” asked Tommy.
“Glad it’s over.” Natalie waved off the customer she’d been serving and glared at a fellow member of staff; a tall man with a long face and crew-cut. “Student union?”
“Yes,” agreed Tommy, “but I’ll stick to the orange juice tonight.”
***
“Look.” Natalie nudged Tommy as they sat at the bar drinking orange juice.
At the edge of the room, just by the door, Eve Winters – garbed today simply in a hoodie, white shirt and black jeans – was snogging the face off a keen, and, Tommy and Natalie agreed, attractive lit student. From what they could gather, he was tall, tanned and clean-shaven, with a mop of brown hair and a pair of Helvetica Regular glasses. He seemed to be enjoying himself, though there was no doubting whatsoever who was leading the action. Eve’s hand wandered. Tommy looked away, feeling himself about to blush.
“Follow her,” mouthed Natalie.
“What?”
“Home!” Natalie hissed, keeping her voice at a whisper even though Eve was obviously busy and distracted where she was.
“I can’t do that! That’s weird!”
“Well not all the way home, obviously! Just until she catches her train. See where she stops, it’ll help us know where the forest is.”
“Okay.” Tommy nodded. “But I’m not going far, Nat, stalking is just creepy.”
“Okay. Well… just a little bit. For me.” Natalie always made sure she tagged a bit of light emotional blackmail on the end when Tommy seemed unsure about doing something.
***
“But like he’d been there.” Tommy looked pensively at Natalie. “Like he’d read a different version.”
“Well, he’s weird,” decided Natalie. “Who even is he?”
“I’ll tell you what, it was a nightmare getting here, the weather’s crap… I really need a drink.”
“I’ll buy!”
The pair turned around, not even realising that Eve Winters, from the theatre, had plonked herself down on the stall next to them.
***
“And she turned to him,” said Natalie, struggling to finish her story giggling, “and said ‘do you by any chance play piano’?” Tommy cracked up. Eve, the most sober by a country mile, laughed with an uncomfortable amount of restraint. “And we knew, we knew she was matchmaking for him behind his back, without a clue!”
“Ah…” Tommy took a gulp of his drink. “Your mum is brilliant.”
“She really is…”
“So where do you two come from?” asked Eve, chipping in for the first time in a while.
“Well, at the moment, a student house,” said Tommy, slurring slightly. “Notting Hill. But next year we’d like to… um…?” He looked to Natalie, having forgotten where that point was going.
“Yeah.” Natalie laughed. “Do a thing.” She looked at her watch. “Oh God, we’d better… train.”
“You mean go,” corrected Tommy, “to the stop, thing.”
“That’s it.” Natalie clicked her fingers and stepped off the stall, nearly stumbling. “Sh-“
Tommy tripped as well, realising how many he’d had: it was always the jelly-legs on leaving the table that made you realise.
“I need to get a train back to my place,” said Eve, getting off her stool with an extraordinary amount of grace. “I’ll walk with you.”
“Where do you live, then?” asked Natalie as they left the union.
“Oh…” Eve held the door open for them. “You wouldn’t know it.”
***
“Ah, God, and then…” Tommy stumbled, suddenly paying attention to his surroundings. He looked around – every direction was the same; a stranglehold of vegetation. They had found themselves, somehow, in the middle of a forest in the early hours of the morning.
Yet – and this could have been the effect of the alcohol – there was nothing intimidating about it; no uneasy feeling that they were being watched, or of mystical paranoia. The moonlight, peaking through the branches and illuminating the forest a calm, autumnal blue, made clear the shapes of the trees as they stood like silhouettes – or, in the cases of the stranger-shaped ones, glove puppets – against it. There was a mist around them, and the air was cold and refreshing but not too biting. Natalie made sure her scarf was wrapped tightly around her.
“Where’s Eve?” questioned Natalie. “I didn’t see her go.” Neither had Tommy.
Tommy was drawn to something else, a few yards away from them. Against a larger, sturdier tree was balanced a blue box, its colour just discernible from a patch on the window illuminated by moonlight. He put his hand on it, and could almost feel it humming; but he was already swinging with his own weight from the alcohol, and couldn’t quite be sure.
“It says…” Natalie tried to examine the writing at the top. “Police…”
“It’s not…” Tommy tried, and failed, to describe the instinct which had overpowered him and drawn him to the box that definitely didn’t belong to the police. “It’s like a sort of… magic…”
“I don’t like it.” Natalie pulled him back. “Let’s go.”
“But…”
Natalie insisted, and they left. Tommy turned, where he could, to catch a glimpse of the box; but after just a few steps it was gone.
***
The cream ceiling was the first thing Tommy saw as he woke up, and the sunlight shining in. His curtains were wide open, and he was back in his room. Somehow, he’d managed to change into his pyjamas. He tried to summon memories of the night before. His last recollection was the box in the forest. After that…
He got up and went to the door, running his hand through his hair to keep it out of his eyes. It was thick, and could always be directed quite easily.
“Natalie?”
Natalie was downstairs with a cup of tea. Both were nursing slight hangovers – mildly annoying throats, gently throbbing headaches, and very slight nausea, but nothing near what they had expected the night before. “Do you remember how we got home last night?”
“Not a clue. The last thing I remember was the forest.”
“Same.” Tommy gazed out of the window. It was a frosty morning, the first since last winter. “What forest was that?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure there aren’t any forests in London. I’ve even had a quick Google.”
“Resourceful as ever.” Tommy patted Natalie on the shoulder.
“I didn’t like it.” Natalie shuddered, then rested her hand over Tommy’s. “The forest, I mean. And the box. It felt… weird. And that Eve woman. Who is she?”
“She’s certainly the enigmatic type.” Tommy flicked the kettle on. “What do we even know about her?”
“Her accent’s south England, so why wouldn’t we know where she’s from? I don’t have her down as the country type.” Natalie took a sip of her tea. “Mind you, I don’t have her down as any type. I can’t place her. Nothing fits. And that lecturer…”
“Give him a chance!” joked Tommy. “He’s only just started! We all say crazy stuff when we’re nervous.”
“There’s something about this year. We’ve only been back a day.” Natalie looked up at Tommy. “Do you think I’m going mad?”
“We stumbled upon a magical forest and woke up with no recollection of how we arrived home. I think anyone would go mad after that…”
They were silent for a minute as the kettle finished boiling. Tommy poured himself a tea. “No lectures today. Have you got work?”
“I’m doing the two o’clock shift.” Natalie yawned. “I love Pizza Hut but there’s only so many teenagers trying every drink in order off the drinks machine that I can take…”
Tommy laughed. “I need to look for a new job. If only shops wouldn’t keep shutting.”
“Well, it’s not like you need the money.” Natalie bit her tongue. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that sound so bitter. I just-“
“Natalie.” Tommy smiled at his girlfriend. “Please don’t worry about it.”
***
“Table for one?” Natalie looked down, pretending to be undergoing the usual formalities.
“Well, if nobody loves me…”
The pair both couldn’t hold it in any longer and embraced each other in a warm hug. “Good shift?” asked Tommy.
“Glad it’s over.” Natalie waved off the customer she’d been serving and glared at a fellow member of staff; a tall man with a long face and crew-cut. “Student union?”
“Yes,” agreed Tommy, “but I’ll stick to the orange juice tonight.”
***
“Look.” Natalie nudged Tommy as they sat at the bar drinking orange juice.
At the edge of the room, just by the door, Eve Winters – garbed today simply in a hoodie, white shirt and black jeans – was snogging the face off a keen, and, Tommy and Natalie agreed, attractive lit student. From what they could gather, he was tall, tanned and clean-shaven, with a mop of brown hair and a pair of Helvetica Regular glasses. He seemed to be enjoying himself, though there was no doubting whatsoever who was leading the action. Eve’s hand wandered. Tommy looked away, feeling himself about to blush.
“Follow her,” mouthed Natalie.
“What?”
“Home!” Natalie hissed, keeping her voice at a whisper even though Eve was obviously busy and distracted where she was.
“I can’t do that! That’s weird!”
“Well not all the way home, obviously! Just until she catches her train. See where she stops, it’ll help us know where the forest is.”
“Okay.” Tommy nodded. “But I’m not going far, Nat, stalking is just creepy.”
“Okay. Well… just a little bit. For me.” Natalie always made sure she tagged a bit of light emotional blackmail on the end when Tommy seemed unsure about doing something.
***
Tommy did as Natalie had suggested and followed Eve home. He considered going and talking to her; offering to walk with her, but a part of him told him that would lead him somewhere else. He felt she had two sets of journeys planned out: those she took with others, and those she took alone. Tommy was hoping to stumble upon the forest again, to learn of its location, and to linger by the box for longer, even if he couldn’t fathom its purpose.
Eve took a long, winding journey through central London, making it easy for Tommy to hide in the crowds of people. She was easily identifiable in her burgundy coat; the hood of her hoodie hanging over the back, but walked so rapidly that slowing up for one minute could have set him off her trail.
Shortly after turning off Covent Garden – and Tommy had no idea how they’d made their way there so quickly – the setting became less familiar. He’d been down here dozens of times, especially at Christmas where it was really quite a sight, but none of these streets were identifiable to him. They were progressively unoccupied, too: first, civilians became less frequent and disappeared; then shops, with half the buildings boarded-up and characterless like facades from a low-budget movie. And after a few turns, at the end of another street, Eve entered a forest.
Tommy had to hold back at the corner to avoid being seen, and by the time he had reached the forest, Eve had vanished. But it was the same forest: it had the same tranquillity, yet the same underlying eeriness; and the moonlight was stronger within, just as it had been before. A forest in the middle of London which he had never discovered before. No – not just that: a forest in the middle of London which no one had ever discovered before.
And, after a few paces, in a now larger patch of moonlight, the letters on the top now clearly illuminated to spell POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX, stood a blue box against an old tree.
“There are plenty of legends of it throughout human history. We do try to keep quiet, but sometimes in doing so, we leave a dent in the fabric of recorded silence.” A woman stepped out from behind the tree; older, perhaps a little younger than Tommy’s mother, with curly dark hair and deep, meaningful eyes. She wore a long, dark dress, the glitter glowing in the dark like the eyes of a preying creature. She extended her arm for a handshake which Tommy immediately reciprocated. “Robin,” she said. “Robin Moon.”
“So, uh, this is your box then?”
“My box?” Robin laughed gently. “This is my forest.”
Tommy laughed as if it were a joke, but Robin looked back seriously – not as someone who didn’t get the joke, but as someone who knew something more. Tommy raised an eyebrow. “This can’t be your forest.”
“It has to be someone’s forest. And have you ever seen it before?”
“Well, once.”
“I know.”
Silence fell, interrupted only by the sound of an owl hooting.
“Would you like to see inside?” she proposed.
“I am inside.”
“I mean the box.” Robin tapped the side of the TARDIS. “There’s a whole world inside.”
“Yup, of course there is.” Tommy waited impatiently for the magic trick. “Well, go on then…”
Eve took a long, winding journey through central London, making it easy for Tommy to hide in the crowds of people. She was easily identifiable in her burgundy coat; the hood of her hoodie hanging over the back, but walked so rapidly that slowing up for one minute could have set him off her trail.
Shortly after turning off Covent Garden – and Tommy had no idea how they’d made their way there so quickly – the setting became less familiar. He’d been down here dozens of times, especially at Christmas where it was really quite a sight, but none of these streets were identifiable to him. They were progressively unoccupied, too: first, civilians became less frequent and disappeared; then shops, with half the buildings boarded-up and characterless like facades from a low-budget movie. And after a few turns, at the end of another street, Eve entered a forest.
Tommy had to hold back at the corner to avoid being seen, and by the time he had reached the forest, Eve had vanished. But it was the same forest: it had the same tranquillity, yet the same underlying eeriness; and the moonlight was stronger within, just as it had been before. A forest in the middle of London which he had never discovered before. No – not just that: a forest in the middle of London which no one had ever discovered before.
And, after a few paces, in a now larger patch of moonlight, the letters on the top now clearly illuminated to spell POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX, stood a blue box against an old tree.
“There are plenty of legends of it throughout human history. We do try to keep quiet, but sometimes in doing so, we leave a dent in the fabric of recorded silence.” A woman stepped out from behind the tree; older, perhaps a little younger than Tommy’s mother, with curly dark hair and deep, meaningful eyes. She wore a long, dark dress, the glitter glowing in the dark like the eyes of a preying creature. She extended her arm for a handshake which Tommy immediately reciprocated. “Robin,” she said. “Robin Moon.”
“So, uh, this is your box then?”
“My box?” Robin laughed gently. “This is my forest.”
Tommy laughed as if it were a joke, but Robin looked back seriously – not as someone who didn’t get the joke, but as someone who knew something more. Tommy raised an eyebrow. “This can’t be your forest.”
“It has to be someone’s forest. And have you ever seen it before?”
“Well, once.”
“I know.”
Silence fell, interrupted only by the sound of an owl hooting.
“Would you like to see inside?” she proposed.
“I am inside.”
“I mean the box.” Robin tapped the side of the TARDIS. “There’s a whole world inside.”
“Yup, of course there is.” Tommy waited impatiently for the magic trick. “Well, go on then…”
The door opened on its own and Tommy peaked inside. Straight ahead of him was a space-age console; behind it, a small staircase leading down into another smaller area. White roundels lined the walls all around the place, and the walls themselves were a light blue: the place was light, airy and, for the most part, minimalist. From what he could make out of the area above the console, it continued up, with a passage overlooking the central area. Perhaps there were skylights, though anything above the console couldn’t be made out from here, and was purely his own supposition.
“Wow. That’s incredible…” |
“Any other words?”
“It’s bigger… bigger…”
Robin waited for the end of that sentence. The Doctor had told her what to expect.
“…bigger from an outsider’s perspective.” Tommy stepped away and circled the tree on which the box was balanced against. “So how d’you do it then?” He took a step back inside, and just as Robin expected him to walk in and admire the entire ship, he stepped out again, and looked either way around the outside. He continued, circling the box another couple of times, ducking down as he went. On his third circle, he went down on his stomach and looked underneath. “It must go under…” he murmured. “Somehow it goes under the ground. And it looks like it’s above ground, because of, because… mirrors…”
Robin watched with amusement – not condescending pleasure, but fascination at how another person was reacting to something which, in retrospect, she had so readily accepted.
“I give up. How do you do it?”
“Hold on. Stay where you are.” Robin walked backwards until she was a good few metres away from Tommy. “Hold your hands out like this.” She formed a box with her fingers. Tommy did as she asked. “Put me inside the box.” Tommy did, again, as instructed: there sat Robin, between his fingers. The classic London Eye trick. Robin walked back up to him again. “It works a bit like that.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” Tommy ran it over in his mind again. “The point of that exercise is the role of perspective. Perceived size is relative to actual size, perspective and distance. But this is a fixed size,” he said, looking back to the box, “regardless of perspective.”
“Oh. That’s what the Doctor told me,” muttered Robin. “I always believed it…”
“But it’s still a magic trick.” Tommy placed his hand on the outer ridge of the box. It hummed, vibrating his whole body. “I don’t know how…”
“How could it be a magic trick?” asked Robin.
“My dad used to own these two circular prisms,” explained Tommy. “Really short things. He’d put them over a pile of coins, lift them up, and the coins would disappear. I spent years trying to work out how he did it. In the end, he explained it to me, and it turned out it was the coins that were fake. The pile itself was a prism, hollow, and when inside the other prism, it only looked like it had disappeared. It was there the whole time.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that the one reason we can never work out how something works is because we’re never looking in the right direction. The exact place you’re looking for the trick is the exact place where everything is how it looks.”
Robin smiled. “The Doctor’s going to love you.” She looked to the door of the ship. “Well? Go on! Go inside.”
Tommy stepped in tentatively. He was drawn to Robin’s first description: a whole world. A world wasn’t just an optical illusion – it was the sense that there were even more places unseen beyond the walls you were standing between, and the unfamiliar sounds, and smells, and even the architecture – this room wasn’t just a magic trick, it was the slice of a culture unlike any he had ever seen. He placed his hand on a roundel, with no idea what it could even be for.
“Tommy Lindsay. Third-year student of Classics – the study of ancient civilisations. Raised in Notting Hill. Both parents still alive, has a younger sister called Mary Lindsay, and is currently in a relationship with Natalie-“
“-and you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Tommy recognised the woman’s voice, and as she reached the bottom of the staircase and stepped out of the archway next to the bookcase, she looked straight at Tommy, her eyes piercing him more than ever before. “Eve Winters.”
“I’m glad to see I made an impression.”
“How’s the lit student?”
“More tired and more satisfied than he’s ever felt in his entire life.”
Robin’s eyes widened and she glanced at Eve with something that resembled surprise.
“I thought we said ‘undercover’?”
“Oh, come on Robin, it’s a university. Undercover is being as loud and erratic as you can possibly get away with.” Eve walked up to Tommy and offered him another handshake.
“We’ve met already,” pointed out Tommy.
“Except we haven’t. You met an alias.”
“Really? You don’t seem that different. Anyway, what’s a disguise, but a character so well-suited to you that you can fit inside their life perfectly?”
Eve changed the direction of the conversation, realising there was nothing she could say to that. “Real name, Autumn Rivers.”
“I’ve never seen her so quiet,” said Robin. “I like you already.”
“So…” Tommy turned back to Autumn. “You’re the Doctor?”
“No,” she sighed, “like I said, I’m Autumn Rivers.”
“You could be Doctor Autumn Rivers.”
“Except I’m not.”
“Then who is?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to refer you up.” Their sharp dialogue ended as Autumn clicked her fingers and pointed upwards. “Oh, sorry.” She gestured to the staircase she’d just come down from. “It’s that way.”
“It’s bigger… bigger…”
Robin waited for the end of that sentence. The Doctor had told her what to expect.
“…bigger from an outsider’s perspective.” Tommy stepped away and circled the tree on which the box was balanced against. “So how d’you do it then?” He took a step back inside, and just as Robin expected him to walk in and admire the entire ship, he stepped out again, and looked either way around the outside. He continued, circling the box another couple of times, ducking down as he went. On his third circle, he went down on his stomach and looked underneath. “It must go under…” he murmured. “Somehow it goes under the ground. And it looks like it’s above ground, because of, because… mirrors…”
Robin watched with amusement – not condescending pleasure, but fascination at how another person was reacting to something which, in retrospect, she had so readily accepted.
“I give up. How do you do it?”
“Hold on. Stay where you are.” Robin walked backwards until she was a good few metres away from Tommy. “Hold your hands out like this.” She formed a box with her fingers. Tommy did as she asked. “Put me inside the box.” Tommy did, again, as instructed: there sat Robin, between his fingers. The classic London Eye trick. Robin walked back up to him again. “It works a bit like that.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” Tommy ran it over in his mind again. “The point of that exercise is the role of perspective. Perceived size is relative to actual size, perspective and distance. But this is a fixed size,” he said, looking back to the box, “regardless of perspective.”
“Oh. That’s what the Doctor told me,” muttered Robin. “I always believed it…”
“But it’s still a magic trick.” Tommy placed his hand on the outer ridge of the box. It hummed, vibrating his whole body. “I don’t know how…”
“How could it be a magic trick?” asked Robin.
“My dad used to own these two circular prisms,” explained Tommy. “Really short things. He’d put them over a pile of coins, lift them up, and the coins would disappear. I spent years trying to work out how he did it. In the end, he explained it to me, and it turned out it was the coins that were fake. The pile itself was a prism, hollow, and when inside the other prism, it only looked like it had disappeared. It was there the whole time.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that the one reason we can never work out how something works is because we’re never looking in the right direction. The exact place you’re looking for the trick is the exact place where everything is how it looks.”
Robin smiled. “The Doctor’s going to love you.” She looked to the door of the ship. “Well? Go on! Go inside.”
Tommy stepped in tentatively. He was drawn to Robin’s first description: a whole world. A world wasn’t just an optical illusion – it was the sense that there were even more places unseen beyond the walls you were standing between, and the unfamiliar sounds, and smells, and even the architecture – this room wasn’t just a magic trick, it was the slice of a culture unlike any he had ever seen. He placed his hand on a roundel, with no idea what it could even be for.
“Tommy Lindsay. Third-year student of Classics – the study of ancient civilisations. Raised in Notting Hill. Both parents still alive, has a younger sister called Mary Lindsay, and is currently in a relationship with Natalie-“
“-and you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Tommy recognised the woman’s voice, and as she reached the bottom of the staircase and stepped out of the archway next to the bookcase, she looked straight at Tommy, her eyes piercing him more than ever before. “Eve Winters.”
“I’m glad to see I made an impression.”
“How’s the lit student?”
“More tired and more satisfied than he’s ever felt in his entire life.”
Robin’s eyes widened and she glanced at Eve with something that resembled surprise.
“I thought we said ‘undercover’?”
“Oh, come on Robin, it’s a university. Undercover is being as loud and erratic as you can possibly get away with.” Eve walked up to Tommy and offered him another handshake.
“We’ve met already,” pointed out Tommy.
“Except we haven’t. You met an alias.”
“Really? You don’t seem that different. Anyway, what’s a disguise, but a character so well-suited to you that you can fit inside their life perfectly?”
Eve changed the direction of the conversation, realising there was nothing she could say to that. “Real name, Autumn Rivers.”
“I’ve never seen her so quiet,” said Robin. “I like you already.”
“So…” Tommy turned back to Autumn. “You’re the Doctor?”
“No,” she sighed, “like I said, I’m Autumn Rivers.”
“You could be Doctor Autumn Rivers.”
“Except I’m not.”
“Then who is?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to refer you up.” Their sharp dialogue ended as Autumn clicked her fingers and pointed upwards. “Oh, sorry.” She gestured to the staircase she’d just come down from. “It’s that way.”
Tommy followed Autumn and Robin up the staircase, realising on his way up that they were going upwards – hypothetically, they should have been above the forest by now. Each of his theories lost credibility by the second, and he dismissed them. Now what was left of his hypothesising mind was a small part considering whether the size of a tree could be mistaken from the perspective of an ordinary person in a dark forest. The tree could have been further away, the box in front bigger, and appeared smaller than it was. They could all be inside a tree now. Except, his heart continued to insist, we aren’t.
He looked down over the area he’d been standing in a minute ago, admiring the console in the centre. “What’s that?” “It’s a console unit,” replied Autumn. “The bit you’re most fascinated by we call the time rotor. It helps us to travel in time. Come on.” She ushered him around to an archway, as if what she had just said was somehow irrelevant trivia. “Now I’d like you to meet our friend,” she said, as Tommy entered the archway: “the Doctor.” The Doctor was sitting at his desk, scribbling something and fast running out of room; his globe took up a large portion of the desk, but he seemed reluctant to move it. He was dressed in a long, light brown coat and a blue shirt, his top button undone. He glanced down at it as Tommy noticed it. |
“I know these colours don’t really suit me, but my wardrobe blew up. You must be Tommy Lindsay.” The Doctor didn’t offer a handshake, but instead stayed seated, regarding Tommy curiously. “Tell me, what do you think of the forest?”
“I think it’s very nice,” said Tommy. “Also, slightly impossible.”
“Good.” The Doctor considered. “Does that mean you don’t have an explanation for it?”
“Well, I haven’t been to Covent Gardens for the best part of a month. It might have been a new attraction that I somehow missed.”
“I think it’s very nice,” said Tommy. “Also, slightly impossible.”
“Good.” The Doctor considered. “Does that mean you don’t have an explanation for it?”
“Well, I haven’t been to Covent Gardens for the best part of a month. It might have been a new attraction that I somehow missed.”
“Or it might have been something else. Consider this.” The Doctor put his pen down and filed the paper he was writing away into his top drawer. “A man – more than a man; an alien, from another world. A time-traveller.” Tommy got the uneasy feeling the Doctor was talking about himself. “He’s crashing. Ten seconds to act before he’s thrown into the Earth. What does he do?”
“Find a space to park?” asked Tommy, still half-joking.
“Exactly. He has friends to drop off home, so he picks London, which also happens to be the biggest population centre for a considerable distance. Problems?”
“It’s going to crash,” said Tommy, now taking the hypothesis seriously. “In a population centre, there will be casualties.”
“Good. Now the man – the alien – he’s intelligent. More intelligent than everyone else in the room.” He glanced at Robin and Autumn. Autumn gave him an unamused glare. “But even so, he’s crashing, and in a panic. He’s still fallible. He doesn’t have the time to do anything. But his ship… his ship does. How do you reduce the damage of a crash? The force is going to be distributed somehow. We can’t stop ourselves crashing.”
“You spread it. Cushion the fall.”
“Exactly. And his ship is bigger on the inside. It can fit a whole world inside a small wooden box. So it extends another dimension around it as it falls, warping the geographical area around it without creating any geographical shifts.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Like the ship is bigger on the inside – another dimension like that, but on a colossal scale. In the ten seconds it’s falling, it creates a forest in the centre of London. Why?”
Tommy was beginning to realise how little he knew about this new kind of logic. He put the Doctor’s question back to him. “Why?”
The Doctor stood up behind his chair, now level with Tommy. “It needs a cushion – the forest, of a strength unlike any you’ve ever seen, cushions the fall, not just for the ship but for the planet, so that the sheer mass of the ship with its engines malfunctioning and its shields off doesn’t crack your world like an egg. And it needs hiding – so the perimeter of the forest acts as a misdirection circuit; there’s a strong one around its perimeter, a light one within the forest, easing any visitors and directing them out, and another strong one around the ship. No one comes across the ship.”
“Except I did.” Tommy had easily contextualised the story by this point. “By mistake. So much for a ‘misdirection circuit’.”
The Doctor walked out to the gallery. “It’s to keep the ship safe while it’s vulnerable. Meaning that the only people it will let find it are people it trusts.” He turned back to Tommy. “It trusts you. She, the TARDIS – that’s Time And Relative Dimension In Space, by the way – trusts you. That’s why you’re here.”
“But it-“ Tommy corrected himself “-she – she’s never met me yet.”
“And she’s a time machine. Remembering goes in any direction. And because she trusts you…” the Doctor finally shook Tommy’s hand. “I trust you. Except there’s one problem.” He dashed down the staircase, leaving Tommy, Robin and Autumn watching him operate the controls from above. “You don’t trust me!”
“I don’t?”
The Doctor called up to Tommy as he dashed around the console. “I just told you that a box is a time machine, a vehicle is sentient, and a forest is an airbag. I’d be slightly worried if you did! So I’m going to prove it to you. Value empirical evidence, Tommy Lindsay, because anyone can only deny it for so long… the stronger it is, the more you believe it. You took Philosophy and Ethics at A Level, didn’t you? Highest mark in your class, if I remember correctly.”
“How did you…” Tommy stopped, understanding the glances that Robin and Autumn were giving him. Don’t even ask. The ship tremored, and Tommy held on to the side.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t take you very far,” apologised the Doctor. “She’s still rebuilding herself at the moment. This whole interior is a new desktop theme; she’s repairing the damage caused by the crash, with just a smidge of elegance. But we can’t go far yet. No more than a few hundred kilometres.”
On Autumn’s signal, Tommy made his way down to the console area. By the time he arrived, the Doctor had flicked the switch to open the doors, and as they slowly parted, Tommy began to comprehend where he was.
“Find a space to park?” asked Tommy, still half-joking.
“Exactly. He has friends to drop off home, so he picks London, which also happens to be the biggest population centre for a considerable distance. Problems?”
“It’s going to crash,” said Tommy, now taking the hypothesis seriously. “In a population centre, there will be casualties.”
“Good. Now the man – the alien – he’s intelligent. More intelligent than everyone else in the room.” He glanced at Robin and Autumn. Autumn gave him an unamused glare. “But even so, he’s crashing, and in a panic. He’s still fallible. He doesn’t have the time to do anything. But his ship… his ship does. How do you reduce the damage of a crash? The force is going to be distributed somehow. We can’t stop ourselves crashing.”
“You spread it. Cushion the fall.”
“Exactly. And his ship is bigger on the inside. It can fit a whole world inside a small wooden box. So it extends another dimension around it as it falls, warping the geographical area around it without creating any geographical shifts.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Like the ship is bigger on the inside – another dimension like that, but on a colossal scale. In the ten seconds it’s falling, it creates a forest in the centre of London. Why?”
Tommy was beginning to realise how little he knew about this new kind of logic. He put the Doctor’s question back to him. “Why?”
The Doctor stood up behind his chair, now level with Tommy. “It needs a cushion – the forest, of a strength unlike any you’ve ever seen, cushions the fall, not just for the ship but for the planet, so that the sheer mass of the ship with its engines malfunctioning and its shields off doesn’t crack your world like an egg. And it needs hiding – so the perimeter of the forest acts as a misdirection circuit; there’s a strong one around its perimeter, a light one within the forest, easing any visitors and directing them out, and another strong one around the ship. No one comes across the ship.”
“Except I did.” Tommy had easily contextualised the story by this point. “By mistake. So much for a ‘misdirection circuit’.”
The Doctor walked out to the gallery. “It’s to keep the ship safe while it’s vulnerable. Meaning that the only people it will let find it are people it trusts.” He turned back to Tommy. “It trusts you. She, the TARDIS – that’s Time And Relative Dimension In Space, by the way – trusts you. That’s why you’re here.”
“But it-“ Tommy corrected himself “-she – she’s never met me yet.”
“And she’s a time machine. Remembering goes in any direction. And because she trusts you…” the Doctor finally shook Tommy’s hand. “I trust you. Except there’s one problem.” He dashed down the staircase, leaving Tommy, Robin and Autumn watching him operate the controls from above. “You don’t trust me!”
“I don’t?”
The Doctor called up to Tommy as he dashed around the console. “I just told you that a box is a time machine, a vehicle is sentient, and a forest is an airbag. I’d be slightly worried if you did! So I’m going to prove it to you. Value empirical evidence, Tommy Lindsay, because anyone can only deny it for so long… the stronger it is, the more you believe it. You took Philosophy and Ethics at A Level, didn’t you? Highest mark in your class, if I remember correctly.”
“How did you…” Tommy stopped, understanding the glances that Robin and Autumn were giving him. Don’t even ask. The ship tremored, and Tommy held on to the side.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t take you very far,” apologised the Doctor. “She’s still rebuilding herself at the moment. This whole interior is a new desktop theme; she’s repairing the damage caused by the crash, with just a smidge of elegance. But we can’t go far yet. No more than a few hundred kilometres.”
On Autumn’s signal, Tommy made his way down to the console area. By the time he arrived, the Doctor had flicked the switch to open the doors, and as they slowly parted, Tommy began to comprehend where he was.
At first, his senses remained in the region of distrust; it could have been an illusion; very-high-definition, or even a realistic painting. But as he approached the door, the small pocket became a panorama, and the chances of an illusion decreased. The Doctor was right – his senses had won. This was space. And the glowing, teeming shape beneath it was unmistakably that of Planet Earth.
“It’s real,” breathed Tommy, gazing down at his planet. “I know now… I know it’s real… but I still can’t believe it. I mean, I can’t accept it. I mean… the world, our world, the world I knew, in that world, this would never… I mean, it wouldn’t…”
“It wouldn’t be kind enough?” guessed Autumn, standing next to Tommy. The Doctor and Robin stood back, giving them some space. She looked straight at him, ignoring the six billion people beneath her entirely. “After one week with the Doctor you’ll discover a universe crueller than any cruelty you have ever witnessed. This” - she looked around - “these magic boxes, they make up for that. That’s the universe for you. Intense cruelty, and magic with the power of a billion childhoods, held in perfect balance by those in-between. And yes. That’s an invitation.”
“But…” Tommy took his eyes off Earth and looked across to Autumn. “You don’t even know anything about me. Not what I am – I mean, you knew that better than I did – but who I am.”
“We know you voted…” the Doctor pulled a ballot paper out of his pocket and examined it closely. “Oh, that’s interesting. Not what you’d expect from a middle-class London family. We know you write a blog, where you’re sometimes quite angry and sometimes quite deep. We know you’ve read dozens of classic novels but your favourite story remains to be the admittedly brilliant Percy Jackson series. We know your friends from secondary school referred to you as ‘smart, but really funny, and nice’. And we know you’re clean-shaven with awesome hair, so watch out for Autumn Rivers.” Autumn glared at the Doctor again. He tried to contain his amusement at having finally worked out Autumn’s type.
“There’s so much to consider.”
“Is there?” asked Autumn. “Is there really? You could have all of time and space at the press of a button, without anyone knowing. Anywhere you want. Anything you could see, any question you want answered, and anyone you’ve ever admired only two words away. Is there really anything to consider when one of your options is that?”
“Well… there’s Natalie.”
“Oh, come on,” laughed Autumn. “Your girlfriend? You can keep her and she wouldn’t even know.”
“And it wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair on her when I’m too busy looking at some diamond planet to remember that I said I’d go out for dinner with her, or that if she found it, I’d be waiting for my turn to talk about all the aliens I’ve seen. And I know you wouldn’t take her.” Tommy seemed to be addressing Autumn directly. “She was drawn away from the TARDIS and it doesn’t take a genius to work out that that’s bad news. She’s not meant for this; she wouldn’t want it and you wouldn’t want it, and I can’t leave her waiting for me.”
“So dump her,” suggested Autumn.
“And she’s not nothing,” snapped Tommy. “She’s the best friend I’ve got and she’s as precious as every one of those planets you could take me to. She should be considered and she will be considered, as a person. If you’re going to make this offer then that’s the condition.”
“We offer you all of time and space, and you set conditions?”
“Any reasonable human being would have already assumed that other people’s lives were the conditions,” responded Tommy.
“He’s right,” admitted Robin. Autumn nodded, frustrated.
“For now, there are other matters at hand.” The Doctor moved Autumn and Tommy gently out of the way and closed the doors, returning to the console unit. “We crashed into another TARDIS – another TARDIS with its shields down; that’s the only way they’d have been drawn together. Which means that somewhere in this city, there’s another Time Lord. So we tracked them. Specifically, Tommy, we tracked them to your university. You were purely a coincidence.” The TARDIS landed with a bump. “Autumn went undercover to find the Time Lord and she was drawn to you, just as the TARDIS was. So is there anything weird that you’ve picked up on?”
“Trying to work to your definition of weird here,” remarked Tommy, “which seems quite a narrow field. Well, there’s always the lecturer.”
“Professor Stream?” inquired Autumn.
“Yeah, him. He’s very strange. And Natalie said…” Tommy’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked together. “She said it was like he hadn’t read the history books, but like he’d actually been there! You don’t think…?”
“We’d better find out. We’re going to have to find him, and we can’t move in time at the moment, only space. Autumn, did you recognise him?”
“I don’t think so.”
“He said at the end of the lecture that he was running the orchestral music society,” added Tommy. “Weirdly specific, but a few people decided to go out of pure curiosity. He’ll probably be packing up now.”
“It’s real,” breathed Tommy, gazing down at his planet. “I know now… I know it’s real… but I still can’t believe it. I mean, I can’t accept it. I mean… the world, our world, the world I knew, in that world, this would never… I mean, it wouldn’t…”
“It wouldn’t be kind enough?” guessed Autumn, standing next to Tommy. The Doctor and Robin stood back, giving them some space. She looked straight at him, ignoring the six billion people beneath her entirely. “After one week with the Doctor you’ll discover a universe crueller than any cruelty you have ever witnessed. This” - she looked around - “these magic boxes, they make up for that. That’s the universe for you. Intense cruelty, and magic with the power of a billion childhoods, held in perfect balance by those in-between. And yes. That’s an invitation.”
“But…” Tommy took his eyes off Earth and looked across to Autumn. “You don’t even know anything about me. Not what I am – I mean, you knew that better than I did – but who I am.”
“We know you voted…” the Doctor pulled a ballot paper out of his pocket and examined it closely. “Oh, that’s interesting. Not what you’d expect from a middle-class London family. We know you write a blog, where you’re sometimes quite angry and sometimes quite deep. We know you’ve read dozens of classic novels but your favourite story remains to be the admittedly brilliant Percy Jackson series. We know your friends from secondary school referred to you as ‘smart, but really funny, and nice’. And we know you’re clean-shaven with awesome hair, so watch out for Autumn Rivers.” Autumn glared at the Doctor again. He tried to contain his amusement at having finally worked out Autumn’s type.
“There’s so much to consider.”
“Is there?” asked Autumn. “Is there really? You could have all of time and space at the press of a button, without anyone knowing. Anywhere you want. Anything you could see, any question you want answered, and anyone you’ve ever admired only two words away. Is there really anything to consider when one of your options is that?”
“Well… there’s Natalie.”
“Oh, come on,” laughed Autumn. “Your girlfriend? You can keep her and she wouldn’t even know.”
“And it wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair on her when I’m too busy looking at some diamond planet to remember that I said I’d go out for dinner with her, or that if she found it, I’d be waiting for my turn to talk about all the aliens I’ve seen. And I know you wouldn’t take her.” Tommy seemed to be addressing Autumn directly. “She was drawn away from the TARDIS and it doesn’t take a genius to work out that that’s bad news. She’s not meant for this; she wouldn’t want it and you wouldn’t want it, and I can’t leave her waiting for me.”
“So dump her,” suggested Autumn.
“And she’s not nothing,” snapped Tommy. “She’s the best friend I’ve got and she’s as precious as every one of those planets you could take me to. She should be considered and she will be considered, as a person. If you’re going to make this offer then that’s the condition.”
“We offer you all of time and space, and you set conditions?”
“Any reasonable human being would have already assumed that other people’s lives were the conditions,” responded Tommy.
“He’s right,” admitted Robin. Autumn nodded, frustrated.
“For now, there are other matters at hand.” The Doctor moved Autumn and Tommy gently out of the way and closed the doors, returning to the console unit. “We crashed into another TARDIS – another TARDIS with its shields down; that’s the only way they’d have been drawn together. Which means that somewhere in this city, there’s another Time Lord. So we tracked them. Specifically, Tommy, we tracked them to your university. You were purely a coincidence.” The TARDIS landed with a bump. “Autumn went undercover to find the Time Lord and she was drawn to you, just as the TARDIS was. So is there anything weird that you’ve picked up on?”
“Trying to work to your definition of weird here,” remarked Tommy, “which seems quite a narrow field. Well, there’s always the lecturer.”
“Professor Stream?” inquired Autumn.
“Yeah, him. He’s very strange. And Natalie said…” Tommy’s eyes widened as the pieces clicked together. “She said it was like he hadn’t read the history books, but like he’d actually been there! You don’t think…?”
“We’d better find out. We’re going to have to find him, and we can’t move in time at the moment, only space. Autumn, did you recognise him?”
“I don’t think so.”
“He said at the end of the lecture that he was running the orchestral music society,” added Tommy. “Weirdly specific, but a few people decided to go out of pure curiosity. He’ll probably be packing up now.”
Music Department
The Master cleared away the plastic cups as The Imperial March by John Williams played out in the background. Each cup he crushed between his fingers and threw in the bin, smiling a bit to himself. Just like this planet. He pretended to conduct the orchestra, ostentatiously throwing the rest of the cups aside as, through large, sweeping motions, he shut his eyes and imagined the performers in front of him, all playing what he was conducting… all performing his will. He smiled again, and relished in finally having a beard to stroke. He flicked on the recorder as he began to stack the chairs.
“Day twelve of my plan,” he narrated, “and thus far no sign of my arch-nemesis, the Doctor, though I felt I saw a familiar face in the lecture room the other day… his trusty companion, Autumn Rivers, no less… perhaps…” he put down a chair to stroke his beard again. “This time, revenge shall be mine, and so shall this world… yes… they shall all crawl, and… and the Doctor… he shall by my b-“ the Master blinked, waking up. “I mean, yes, the Doctor, he shall crawl like the rest, though more desperate, perhaps… and what of his trusty companion, Autumn Rivers? Oh, her demise will be…” he racked his brains. “One of those words, yes…” Realising he was alone, and entirely unobserved, the Master paused The Imperial March and clicked another song, ensuring this Spotify session was listed as a ‘Private Session’, meaning that neither of his two friends, or any students who decided to look him up, would be any the wiser. The exotic percussion began. The Master smiled evilly (very evilly; he was keen to distinguish). Slowly, the rhythm flowed through his body, the four knocks even seeming to evolve into syncopated beats, giving the song a bit more jazz. The Master stood, his whole body ready. The moment was nigh. And here it came. “Because,” the song sang, “I know exactly what we need.”
The Master joined in.
“Let’s have a kiki.”
He allowed one of the Scissor Sisters to take the next line, making sure he was back well in time for “Lock the doors… tight!”.
He swayed with the beat, his arms flailing this way and that – but, he assured himself, in perfect motion; he had developed his own version of the dance, on the sleepless nights where he was too excited at the prospect of conquering planets and couldn’t even get a couple of winks.
The song had moved forward by this point, and the Master made sure to exact the perfect tone of voice: “We’re gonna serve and work and turn and h-h-honey.”
He gathered himself for the verse, having a last swing to the percussion between. He hoped he wouldn't have to regenerate any time soon; Private Alan had fantastic hips.
“A kiki is a party,” he began, staring out the window disconsolately, a tragic look on his eyes, tragedy in his mind and tragedy in his heart (which he was sure to gesture to as he sang), “for calming all your nerves, where spilling tea and sipping just desserts one may deserve. And though the sun is rising, few may choose to leave, so shade that lid and we’ll all bid adieu to your ennui.” He returned to the chorus, alternating to different parts this time, still not remotely bored. Yes. Conquest seemed… so much closer now, so much more real. “Lock the doors, tight. Let’s have a kiki, motherfu-“
“-nny, of all the many possibilities for our next encounter, I really hadn’t expected this.”
The Master turned, more mortified than he had ever been in all his many lives.
“Doctor…” the Master was filled with a sudden passion. “My arch neme-“
The music continued to play in the background. “I wanna have a kik-“
“SHUT UP!” yelled the Master. “BLASTED INFERNAL NOISE, I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU’RE EVEN PLAYING THIS! ARGH!” As the laptop continued to narrate enthusiastically about kikis, and Autumn Rivers struggled to conceal a giggle, the Master walked over to the table, picked up the laptop and slammed it on the floor. It bent out of shape as it fell, and was then quiet.
The Master composed himself, straightening his hair.
“Doctor. My arch-nemesis.”
“So… who’s this?” asked Tommy.
“Ooh.” The Doctor looked closely at the Master. “Very dangerous. Autumn, make sure you, er… lock the doors… tight!” The Doctor and Autumn both burst into hysterics, unable to contain themselves as the Master tried to act professionally.
“Stop it!” growled the Master. “Stop it!”
“Back to business,” agreed the Doctor, trying not to carry on laughing.
“You saw through my cunning disguise, then?”
“Disguise…?”
“The beard?” The Master rolled his eyes and pointed at the beard.
“Oh yeah. Didn’t notice that…”
“And the name, Professor Streams… it’s an anagram.”
The Doctor looked puzzled.
“Stream. An anagram.”
The Doctor shook his head.
“S-t-r-e-a-m. It’s an anagram… M-a-s-t-e-r.”
The Doctor said nothing at all.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake…”
“So we crashed into your TARDIS,” said the Doctor, moving the subject along. “You fell to Earth as well, which must mean you had your shields off too, which could suggest that you were also on the run. What from?”
“Everyone who knows who I am,” explained the Master, “and is aware of what I’ve got.” He pulled out a memory stick. “On this drive is the most important code in the universe. It can’t be copied – the data refuses. It can simply be transferred. I acquired from the ‘securest’ bank in the universe and stored it here.”
“Make sure you take it out your jeans before putting them in the wash,” said the Doctor. “So what’s on it?”
“It’s been supposed that the code contains a secret. An instruction, or a command, which, when run, has the capacity to tear apart the universe. My kind of command.” The Master’s fist clenched around the stick. “No one knows how, of course; no one understands the language, and it’s been tried on every established computer code. But there’s still a price on it, and I intend to make proper use of it.”
“You get back in the TARDIS with Robin,” whispered Autumn, while the Master was busy taking a moment to admire his plan. “Go and find UNIT – we need the Brigadier here for this, trust me. I’ll take Tommy.”
“Why Tommy?” hissed the Doctor.
“Why not?”
The Doctor rolled his eyes and gestured to Robin to follow him into the TARDIS. They shut the door behind them and the Master realised what was happening as the TARDIS began to dematerialise.
“Where is he going?”
“Oh my God…” Autumn looked behind the Master.
“What? What is it?”
“The greatest monsters in all the universe, they’ve returned from conquering Gallifrey. It’s my arch-nemeses – the Sontarans!”
The Master turned around in horror to stare at a blank wall, and Autumn lobbed a chair at him. He fell, giving Autumn the chance to grab the memory stick and leave with Tommy. After a couple of seconds, the Master had stood up and was chasing them.
“Where’s the Doctor going to go?” asked Tommy, as they ran across campus.
“No idea, and the phone lines in the TARDIS have gone down, which is why I sent him to UNIT in person.”
“UNIT?”
“Yeah, UNIT, haven’t you heard of them?” They leapt over a wall. “United Nations Intelligent Taskforce, a bit like the Doctor except less intelligent and with more weapons, and since I’m here to help, the only thing we’re lacking in is weapons!”
They left the university campus, with the Master following just behind, and found themselves around the back of a theatre.
“He’s going to follow us everywhere,” said Tommy. “We need to lose him.”
“Agreed. Let’s go inside.”
They crept in through the back entrance, and emerged inside an empty, clinical corridor – far backstage. “That looks like a good place to hide round there,” suggested Autumn, and they made their way to a small, darkened area to the side. A man, working away at a computer, turned to them in alarm, and, turning to their left, they realised why – they had walked in on a play, and were less than a metre away from being seen by a whole audience. Autumn judged what she could about the play, checking the date on her watch. She’d observed the poster on the way in – Aladdin; a pantomime. That was reassuring. When you need a hand, get a-lad-in. She ran on stage.
“Autumn,” hissed Tommy, “what are you-“
Autumn interrupted with a handwave, and Tommy very reluctantly followed. They were lucky – caught up in a scene change.
“Hello everyone.” Autumn waved to the audience. A few Hellos were returned from the younger members of the audience. “Right, I need you all to listen very carefully. Someone’s following us and he might end up on the stage. It’s pivotal – by which I mean, our lives depend on it – that you do exactly as we say. If he asks what way we went, tell him that way.” She pointed at the way they’d come on. “Thank you!” She grabbed Tommy’s hand and dragged him across the other side of the stage.
“What are you doing?”
“If I’m very lucky, losing his track. I don’t know if this will work. Stay well back…”
They crept around a wall. They could see the stage, but coming off, an actor would walk straight past them. A few moments later, the Master ran on stage, panting.
“Booooooo!” shouted the audience. “Hisssssss!”
The Master was perplexed. Who did they think he was?
“Oh shut up and listen!” he shouted. Another long boo followed, which he waited through impatiently. “This is of the utmost importance. Two people just came on stage but I didn’t see what direction they went in. Where did they go?”
The audience pointed at the entrance through which the Master had come in. “That way!” they cried.
“Are you sure?” The Master peaked around, confused. “I didn’t see them on my way in.”
“They went that way!” yelled a particularly enthusiastic seven-year old boy, pointing again at where the Master had entered.
“Oh, no, they didn’t.”
“Oh yes they did!” replied the audience.
“Oh no they didn’t!”
“Oh yes they did!”
Autumn and Tommy watched from behind the wall. “Do you think he even realises?” she whispered. Tommy shook his head.
“Hold on a minute…” Autumn’s question was answered, as the penny dropped.
“You don’t think…? Oh, you do!" The Master chuckled at the audience's stupidity. "You all think this is a pantomime! Well it’s not. Please, you must listen to me. This is not a pantomime.”
“Oh yes it is!”
“This isn’t a joke! I’m not…” The Master gestured to his outfit. “I’m not an actor. I’m here to conquer your planet, and if you don’t tell me what way they both went, you’ll be the first to perish!”
“Boooooooo!”
Autumn took advantage of the opportunity and came back on stage. Each time the Master ran up to her, she moved to the other side of the stage.
“Okay, listen up boys and girls, I need you all to help me out here. On the count of three, I want you to tall run up on stage and wrestle this old meanie to the floor!”
“Autumn, no-“ the Master looked to Autumn, still trying to grab the memory stick off her. “Autumn, don’t you-“
“Three, two, one!”
An army of children charged at the stage, throwing the Master to the floor, as parents in their seats quickly Googled theatrical health and safety regulations. Autumn took the opportunity and, with Tommy, left the theatre.
***
“I think we’ve lost him.”
Autumn and Tommy found the Doctor and Robin in the forest, stood outside the TARDIS with the company of the Brigadier, now considerably aged – Robin realised that when they had been to UNIT HQ before, it was a long time ago in her past.
“I’m technically retired now, you know,” explained the Brigadier, “but since this was my case, well, there’s always some wiggle-room isn’t there, old chap?” He patted the Doctor on the back. “Where is this old rascal, then? Stuck flailing around plotting like some panto villain, I’d imagine?”
“Not as far off as you’d think,” murmured Autumn.
“Not doing wonders for this ‘belief’ lark,” remarked Tommy.
“New one?” asked the Brigadier.
“Yes,” said the Doctor. “I don’t know if he’ll be-“
“We’re keeping him,” interjected Autumn.
“There you are!” the Master emerged in the open. “If you knew what you’d put me through-“
The Brigadier raised his gun. “The Doctor called for me on Miss Rivers’ command, and was rather confused as to why, but I knew straight away.” He kept his firearm aimed on the Master’s head. “The last time we spoke, you asked if he would be able to fight you on the field of battle and stare into the eyes of a man who once trusted him. Autumn knew, just as well as you did, that he wouldn’t. But let me tell you something, old chap.” The Brigadier cleared his throat. “A man is not his eyes, or his voice. They’re just vehicles. You’re not Private Alan. You never will replace Private Alan.” He looked back over the last years of his service. “No one ever replaced Private Alan. All you did was stole his vehicle but you did not steal his soul. No one ever could have. So let me answer your question myself. Yes – I can.” He fired one bullet at the Master’s leg, knocking him to the floor. “Couldn’t risk a regeneration, knowing the damage that can do, but I’ve got every plan of administering appropriate justice.” He turned to the team and ignored the Master. “Doctor, might I insist that you remain here whilst your companion Miss Rivers takes me where I need to go? You really don’t need to be there for this.”
The Doctor looked worried.
“Nothing cruel and nothing cowardly,” assured the Brigadier. “But he needs to be taken somewhere safe. Somewhere very far away.”
“Okay. Autumn, make sure they don’t go too far.” Autumn nodded, and followed the Brigadier into the TARDIS.
The Fifth Moon of Cindie Colesta
“Abandoned. No one will find him here.” Autumn slung the Master, handcuffed, out of the TARDIS. The Brigadier stood just outside, admiring the landscape. A storm was brewing in the pink sky, and the rocks vibrated beneath them. But, Autumn had assured, it was perfectly safe.
“I wish I’d seen more sights like this,” said the Brigadier, with just a hint of regret. “Still, there’s Wales. I suppose, since you still can’t travel in time, we’d better be heading back soon?”
“Yes.” Autumn glanced to the Master as she replied to the Brigadier. “Could you, uh, just give us a minute? I need some… information.”
“Of course.” The Brigadier stepped back into the TARDIS and closed the door behind him.
“Information?” asked the Master, now alone on the surface of the moon with Autumn.
“Well, that’s what I told him so he’d leave me alone here.” Autumn crouched down and held out the memory stick, tauntingly. “Your precious code.” Unexpectedly, she placed it on the Master’s stomach, and pulled out a contraption. A light flashed briefly, and the memory stick disappeared.
“Where did it go?”
“Your stomach. You’ve digested it.”
“You’ll need it back. You want that code as much as I do, and you know it.”
“No, I don’t. I’ve got everything I want in the TARDIS,” admitted Autumn. “I’ve got my friends. So now, I’m going to get you some friends.” She looked up to the sky expectantly. “They’ll probably be here in a few minutes, hours, days… impossible to tell. Though sooner rather than later, I’d think; long before you’ve had the chance to, shall we say, excrete. I’ve sent out a signal – an advertisement – for the most important code in the universe. They’d tear you apart for that code. As it happens, they might have to.”
“The Doctor told you not to harm me. You won’t go against what he told you,” implored the Master, “you’re his companion. You do as the Doctor asks. He would never forgive you for this.”
“I disagree. You see, I think he would, because he’d know I’m right.”
“That’s not loyalty.”
“No.” Autumn had no need for weapons when she could shoot the Master down with words. “I’ll tell you what loyalty isn’t – loyalty isn’t blind. It isn’t obedient, or unquestioning, or stupid, and it doesn’t endanger the person you’re loyal to in an attempt to avoid going against their will. Your survival is dangerous to the Doctor. He’ll never be able to kill you, and you’ll never be able to kill him, but there’s no rule for the people trapped between. You might be no better than a pantomime villain in appearance, but if you’d had the opportunity you’d have gunned down every child in that theatre. And he still wouldn’t have been able to kill you.”
“I know you fear death!” called the Master, as Autumn stood up to re-enter the TARDIS. “I know what that’s like. How could you do this to me knowing how much I fear what’s coming?”
“You brought it upon yourself,” said Autumn coldly. “People who bring things upon themselves deserve what they most fear. One day, yes, I’ll die. But I won’t be the one who causes it.”
“If I get my way,” agreed the Master, “then no, you won’t.”
***
“So I know who you are,” said Tommy, as the TARDIS started to slowly materialise in front of them, still struggling to make a landing. “But who is Autumn?”
“The world’s most brilliant psychopath,” said the Doctor, the best description he could muster. “A good detective when required, and amazing if you ever need anyone to keep a secret.” The TARDIS landed, and the Doctor headed for the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
“The way you look at me,” said Tommy, talking to Robin. “It’s different to the others.”
“I think you’re a bit young for me,” Robin joked.
“No. I don’t mean like that.”
“Are you a mother?”
“I was.” Robin smiled sadly. “My son was called Tommy, too.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry…”
“It’s fine.” Robin waved it off. “I travel with the Doctor. I’m fine.”
“So he… what?” Tommy looked at the TARDIS, now fully-lit, gaining power by the second. “Helped you to get over the loss?”
“I don’t think anyone could really ever get over a loss like that,” confessed Robin. “He just helped me to put it somewhere it wouldn’t hurt me.”
“You’ve done well.”
“You remind me off him.” Robin inspected Tommy’s face closely; the way he reacted to more delicate conversations. The inflections only a mother notices because there’s nothing else in the world she could pay attention to instead. “Of what he would have been like, I mean, if he’d ever been allowed to have an adulthood. My boy as a young man. I’d have been very proud if he turned out like you.”
“And if I’d have wanted to go with the Doctor? What would you have said?”
“No way in hell. Mind, that’s having not met him. Knowing the Doctor as I do? I’d have told you to run with him, stick by his side and have as much fun as you can.”
***
TARDIS Console Room, Two Hours Later
“I’ll come.” Tommy joined the Doctor and Autumn down in the lower area around the bar, where Autumn had poured three lemonades. “I spoke to Natalie, and after six cups of tea and a session of therapy, she believed me and understood. She was my best friend for a long time. We can go back. So thank you the offer.”
“You’re very welcome,” said the Doctor. “It’s time to see why the TARDIS thinks you’re so special.”
“I don’t think it’ll take you long to see that,” said Autumn, not even realising what she was implying. “Now, this is all very posh, but where are the biscuits?”
“And where’s Robin?” asked Tommy.
“Biscuits,” insisted Autumn. “Priorities.”
“She’s gone home to her fiancé,” answered the Doctor, ignoring Autumn. “She won’t be travelling with us for a bit. She’s a casual passenger.”
“Oh, I didn’t know she was still with her fiancé. She told me about her son…”
“Her old husband died as well. This is a new fiancé.”
“God…”
“She’s fine,” said the Doctor. “Really. She’s strong, and resilient, and very good at moving on briskly and looking back on what she loved at the same time. I almost wish I had that quality.”
“Me too,” admitted Autumn. “Tommy, question. You’re studying Classics. Why?”
Tommy shrugged. “They just said pick something you find interesting.”
“So what do you want to do when you leave?”
Tommy shrugged again.
Autumn and the Doctor looked at each other with confusion. “But you said-“
“-it wasn’t me, I-“
“Have I missed something?” asked Tommy.
“We only spent the last two hours discussing your subject choice,” said the Doctor. “Autumn performed a whole psychoanalysis on you. Turns out there was no reason at all…” He yawned. “Which reminds me, Autumn. I believe you have something for me?” The Doctor held his hand out. “Memory stick.”
“I gave it back to the Master.”
“You did what?”
“Empty.” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Doctor, we really need to sit down and chat about plans. I transferred the data from the memory stick to the TARDIS. I thought you might want to have a look at it yourself.”
“Oh.” The Doctor seemed surprised. It was normally the sort of thing Autumn Rivers kept to herself. “Thank you.”
“No problem!” Autumn pulled another bottle out. “More lemonade?”
The Master cleared away the plastic cups as The Imperial March by John Williams played out in the background. Each cup he crushed between his fingers and threw in the bin, smiling a bit to himself. Just like this planet. He pretended to conduct the orchestra, ostentatiously throwing the rest of the cups aside as, through large, sweeping motions, he shut his eyes and imagined the performers in front of him, all playing what he was conducting… all performing his will. He smiled again, and relished in finally having a beard to stroke. He flicked on the recorder as he began to stack the chairs.
“Day twelve of my plan,” he narrated, “and thus far no sign of my arch-nemesis, the Doctor, though I felt I saw a familiar face in the lecture room the other day… his trusty companion, Autumn Rivers, no less… perhaps…” he put down a chair to stroke his beard again. “This time, revenge shall be mine, and so shall this world… yes… they shall all crawl, and… and the Doctor… he shall by my b-“ the Master blinked, waking up. “I mean, yes, the Doctor, he shall crawl like the rest, though more desperate, perhaps… and what of his trusty companion, Autumn Rivers? Oh, her demise will be…” he racked his brains. “One of those words, yes…” Realising he was alone, and entirely unobserved, the Master paused The Imperial March and clicked another song, ensuring this Spotify session was listed as a ‘Private Session’, meaning that neither of his two friends, or any students who decided to look him up, would be any the wiser. The exotic percussion began. The Master smiled evilly (very evilly; he was keen to distinguish). Slowly, the rhythm flowed through his body, the four knocks even seeming to evolve into syncopated beats, giving the song a bit more jazz. The Master stood, his whole body ready. The moment was nigh. And here it came. “Because,” the song sang, “I know exactly what we need.”
The Master joined in.
“Let’s have a kiki.”
He allowed one of the Scissor Sisters to take the next line, making sure he was back well in time for “Lock the doors… tight!”.
He swayed with the beat, his arms flailing this way and that – but, he assured himself, in perfect motion; he had developed his own version of the dance, on the sleepless nights where he was too excited at the prospect of conquering planets and couldn’t even get a couple of winks.
The song had moved forward by this point, and the Master made sure to exact the perfect tone of voice: “We’re gonna serve and work and turn and h-h-honey.”
He gathered himself for the verse, having a last swing to the percussion between. He hoped he wouldn't have to regenerate any time soon; Private Alan had fantastic hips.
“A kiki is a party,” he began, staring out the window disconsolately, a tragic look on his eyes, tragedy in his mind and tragedy in his heart (which he was sure to gesture to as he sang), “for calming all your nerves, where spilling tea and sipping just desserts one may deserve. And though the sun is rising, few may choose to leave, so shade that lid and we’ll all bid adieu to your ennui.” He returned to the chorus, alternating to different parts this time, still not remotely bored. Yes. Conquest seemed… so much closer now, so much more real. “Lock the doors, tight. Let’s have a kiki, motherfu-“
“-nny, of all the many possibilities for our next encounter, I really hadn’t expected this.”
The Master turned, more mortified than he had ever been in all his many lives.
“Doctor…” the Master was filled with a sudden passion. “My arch neme-“
The music continued to play in the background. “I wanna have a kik-“
“SHUT UP!” yelled the Master. “BLASTED INFERNAL NOISE, I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU’RE EVEN PLAYING THIS! ARGH!” As the laptop continued to narrate enthusiastically about kikis, and Autumn Rivers struggled to conceal a giggle, the Master walked over to the table, picked up the laptop and slammed it on the floor. It bent out of shape as it fell, and was then quiet.
The Master composed himself, straightening his hair.
“Doctor. My arch-nemesis.”
“So… who’s this?” asked Tommy.
“Ooh.” The Doctor looked closely at the Master. “Very dangerous. Autumn, make sure you, er… lock the doors… tight!” The Doctor and Autumn both burst into hysterics, unable to contain themselves as the Master tried to act professionally.
“Stop it!” growled the Master. “Stop it!”
“Back to business,” agreed the Doctor, trying not to carry on laughing.
“You saw through my cunning disguise, then?”
“Disguise…?”
“The beard?” The Master rolled his eyes and pointed at the beard.
“Oh yeah. Didn’t notice that…”
“And the name, Professor Streams… it’s an anagram.”
The Doctor looked puzzled.
“Stream. An anagram.”
The Doctor shook his head.
“S-t-r-e-a-m. It’s an anagram… M-a-s-t-e-r.”
The Doctor said nothing at all.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake…”
“So we crashed into your TARDIS,” said the Doctor, moving the subject along. “You fell to Earth as well, which must mean you had your shields off too, which could suggest that you were also on the run. What from?”
“Everyone who knows who I am,” explained the Master, “and is aware of what I’ve got.” He pulled out a memory stick. “On this drive is the most important code in the universe. It can’t be copied – the data refuses. It can simply be transferred. I acquired from the ‘securest’ bank in the universe and stored it here.”
“Make sure you take it out your jeans before putting them in the wash,” said the Doctor. “So what’s on it?”
“It’s been supposed that the code contains a secret. An instruction, or a command, which, when run, has the capacity to tear apart the universe. My kind of command.” The Master’s fist clenched around the stick. “No one knows how, of course; no one understands the language, and it’s been tried on every established computer code. But there’s still a price on it, and I intend to make proper use of it.”
“You get back in the TARDIS with Robin,” whispered Autumn, while the Master was busy taking a moment to admire his plan. “Go and find UNIT – we need the Brigadier here for this, trust me. I’ll take Tommy.”
“Why Tommy?” hissed the Doctor.
“Why not?”
The Doctor rolled his eyes and gestured to Robin to follow him into the TARDIS. They shut the door behind them and the Master realised what was happening as the TARDIS began to dematerialise.
“Where is he going?”
“Oh my God…” Autumn looked behind the Master.
“What? What is it?”
“The greatest monsters in all the universe, they’ve returned from conquering Gallifrey. It’s my arch-nemeses – the Sontarans!”
The Master turned around in horror to stare at a blank wall, and Autumn lobbed a chair at him. He fell, giving Autumn the chance to grab the memory stick and leave with Tommy. After a couple of seconds, the Master had stood up and was chasing them.
“Where’s the Doctor going to go?” asked Tommy, as they ran across campus.
“No idea, and the phone lines in the TARDIS have gone down, which is why I sent him to UNIT in person.”
“UNIT?”
“Yeah, UNIT, haven’t you heard of them?” They leapt over a wall. “United Nations Intelligent Taskforce, a bit like the Doctor except less intelligent and with more weapons, and since I’m here to help, the only thing we’re lacking in is weapons!”
They left the university campus, with the Master following just behind, and found themselves around the back of a theatre.
“He’s going to follow us everywhere,” said Tommy. “We need to lose him.”
“Agreed. Let’s go inside.”
They crept in through the back entrance, and emerged inside an empty, clinical corridor – far backstage. “That looks like a good place to hide round there,” suggested Autumn, and they made their way to a small, darkened area to the side. A man, working away at a computer, turned to them in alarm, and, turning to their left, they realised why – they had walked in on a play, and were less than a metre away from being seen by a whole audience. Autumn judged what she could about the play, checking the date on her watch. She’d observed the poster on the way in – Aladdin; a pantomime. That was reassuring. When you need a hand, get a-lad-in. She ran on stage.
“Autumn,” hissed Tommy, “what are you-“
Autumn interrupted with a handwave, and Tommy very reluctantly followed. They were lucky – caught up in a scene change.
“Hello everyone.” Autumn waved to the audience. A few Hellos were returned from the younger members of the audience. “Right, I need you all to listen very carefully. Someone’s following us and he might end up on the stage. It’s pivotal – by which I mean, our lives depend on it – that you do exactly as we say. If he asks what way we went, tell him that way.” She pointed at the way they’d come on. “Thank you!” She grabbed Tommy’s hand and dragged him across the other side of the stage.
“What are you doing?”
“If I’m very lucky, losing his track. I don’t know if this will work. Stay well back…”
They crept around a wall. They could see the stage, but coming off, an actor would walk straight past them. A few moments later, the Master ran on stage, panting.
“Booooooo!” shouted the audience. “Hisssssss!”
The Master was perplexed. Who did they think he was?
“Oh shut up and listen!” he shouted. Another long boo followed, which he waited through impatiently. “This is of the utmost importance. Two people just came on stage but I didn’t see what direction they went in. Where did they go?”
The audience pointed at the entrance through which the Master had come in. “That way!” they cried.
“Are you sure?” The Master peaked around, confused. “I didn’t see them on my way in.”
“They went that way!” yelled a particularly enthusiastic seven-year old boy, pointing again at where the Master had entered.
“Oh, no, they didn’t.”
“Oh yes they did!” replied the audience.
“Oh no they didn’t!”
“Oh yes they did!”
Autumn and Tommy watched from behind the wall. “Do you think he even realises?” she whispered. Tommy shook his head.
“Hold on a minute…” Autumn’s question was answered, as the penny dropped.
“You don’t think…? Oh, you do!" The Master chuckled at the audience's stupidity. "You all think this is a pantomime! Well it’s not. Please, you must listen to me. This is not a pantomime.”
“Oh yes it is!”
“This isn’t a joke! I’m not…” The Master gestured to his outfit. “I’m not an actor. I’m here to conquer your planet, and if you don’t tell me what way they both went, you’ll be the first to perish!”
“Boooooooo!”
Autumn took advantage of the opportunity and came back on stage. Each time the Master ran up to her, she moved to the other side of the stage.
“Okay, listen up boys and girls, I need you all to help me out here. On the count of three, I want you to tall run up on stage and wrestle this old meanie to the floor!”
“Autumn, no-“ the Master looked to Autumn, still trying to grab the memory stick off her. “Autumn, don’t you-“
“Three, two, one!”
An army of children charged at the stage, throwing the Master to the floor, as parents in their seats quickly Googled theatrical health and safety regulations. Autumn took the opportunity and, with Tommy, left the theatre.
***
“I think we’ve lost him.”
Autumn and Tommy found the Doctor and Robin in the forest, stood outside the TARDIS with the company of the Brigadier, now considerably aged – Robin realised that when they had been to UNIT HQ before, it was a long time ago in her past.
“I’m technically retired now, you know,” explained the Brigadier, “but since this was my case, well, there’s always some wiggle-room isn’t there, old chap?” He patted the Doctor on the back. “Where is this old rascal, then? Stuck flailing around plotting like some panto villain, I’d imagine?”
“Not as far off as you’d think,” murmured Autumn.
“Not doing wonders for this ‘belief’ lark,” remarked Tommy.
“New one?” asked the Brigadier.
“Yes,” said the Doctor. “I don’t know if he’ll be-“
“We’re keeping him,” interjected Autumn.
“There you are!” the Master emerged in the open. “If you knew what you’d put me through-“
The Brigadier raised his gun. “The Doctor called for me on Miss Rivers’ command, and was rather confused as to why, but I knew straight away.” He kept his firearm aimed on the Master’s head. “The last time we spoke, you asked if he would be able to fight you on the field of battle and stare into the eyes of a man who once trusted him. Autumn knew, just as well as you did, that he wouldn’t. But let me tell you something, old chap.” The Brigadier cleared his throat. “A man is not his eyes, or his voice. They’re just vehicles. You’re not Private Alan. You never will replace Private Alan.” He looked back over the last years of his service. “No one ever replaced Private Alan. All you did was stole his vehicle but you did not steal his soul. No one ever could have. So let me answer your question myself. Yes – I can.” He fired one bullet at the Master’s leg, knocking him to the floor. “Couldn’t risk a regeneration, knowing the damage that can do, but I’ve got every plan of administering appropriate justice.” He turned to the team and ignored the Master. “Doctor, might I insist that you remain here whilst your companion Miss Rivers takes me where I need to go? You really don’t need to be there for this.”
The Doctor looked worried.
“Nothing cruel and nothing cowardly,” assured the Brigadier. “But he needs to be taken somewhere safe. Somewhere very far away.”
“Okay. Autumn, make sure they don’t go too far.” Autumn nodded, and followed the Brigadier into the TARDIS.
The Fifth Moon of Cindie Colesta
“Abandoned. No one will find him here.” Autumn slung the Master, handcuffed, out of the TARDIS. The Brigadier stood just outside, admiring the landscape. A storm was brewing in the pink sky, and the rocks vibrated beneath them. But, Autumn had assured, it was perfectly safe.
“I wish I’d seen more sights like this,” said the Brigadier, with just a hint of regret. “Still, there’s Wales. I suppose, since you still can’t travel in time, we’d better be heading back soon?”
“Yes.” Autumn glanced to the Master as she replied to the Brigadier. “Could you, uh, just give us a minute? I need some… information.”
“Of course.” The Brigadier stepped back into the TARDIS and closed the door behind him.
“Information?” asked the Master, now alone on the surface of the moon with Autumn.
“Well, that’s what I told him so he’d leave me alone here.” Autumn crouched down and held out the memory stick, tauntingly. “Your precious code.” Unexpectedly, she placed it on the Master’s stomach, and pulled out a contraption. A light flashed briefly, and the memory stick disappeared.
“Where did it go?”
“Your stomach. You’ve digested it.”
“You’ll need it back. You want that code as much as I do, and you know it.”
“No, I don’t. I’ve got everything I want in the TARDIS,” admitted Autumn. “I’ve got my friends. So now, I’m going to get you some friends.” She looked up to the sky expectantly. “They’ll probably be here in a few minutes, hours, days… impossible to tell. Though sooner rather than later, I’d think; long before you’ve had the chance to, shall we say, excrete. I’ve sent out a signal – an advertisement – for the most important code in the universe. They’d tear you apart for that code. As it happens, they might have to.”
“The Doctor told you not to harm me. You won’t go against what he told you,” implored the Master, “you’re his companion. You do as the Doctor asks. He would never forgive you for this.”
“I disagree. You see, I think he would, because he’d know I’m right.”
“That’s not loyalty.”
“No.” Autumn had no need for weapons when she could shoot the Master down with words. “I’ll tell you what loyalty isn’t – loyalty isn’t blind. It isn’t obedient, or unquestioning, or stupid, and it doesn’t endanger the person you’re loyal to in an attempt to avoid going against their will. Your survival is dangerous to the Doctor. He’ll never be able to kill you, and you’ll never be able to kill him, but there’s no rule for the people trapped between. You might be no better than a pantomime villain in appearance, but if you’d had the opportunity you’d have gunned down every child in that theatre. And he still wouldn’t have been able to kill you.”
“I know you fear death!” called the Master, as Autumn stood up to re-enter the TARDIS. “I know what that’s like. How could you do this to me knowing how much I fear what’s coming?”
“You brought it upon yourself,” said Autumn coldly. “People who bring things upon themselves deserve what they most fear. One day, yes, I’ll die. But I won’t be the one who causes it.”
“If I get my way,” agreed the Master, “then no, you won’t.”
***
“So I know who you are,” said Tommy, as the TARDIS started to slowly materialise in front of them, still struggling to make a landing. “But who is Autumn?”
“The world’s most brilliant psychopath,” said the Doctor, the best description he could muster. “A good detective when required, and amazing if you ever need anyone to keep a secret.” The TARDIS landed, and the Doctor headed for the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
“The way you look at me,” said Tommy, talking to Robin. “It’s different to the others.”
“I think you’re a bit young for me,” Robin joked.
“No. I don’t mean like that.”
“Are you a mother?”
“I was.” Robin smiled sadly. “My son was called Tommy, too.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry…”
“It’s fine.” Robin waved it off. “I travel with the Doctor. I’m fine.”
“So he… what?” Tommy looked at the TARDIS, now fully-lit, gaining power by the second. “Helped you to get over the loss?”
“I don’t think anyone could really ever get over a loss like that,” confessed Robin. “He just helped me to put it somewhere it wouldn’t hurt me.”
“You’ve done well.”
“You remind me off him.” Robin inspected Tommy’s face closely; the way he reacted to more delicate conversations. The inflections only a mother notices because there’s nothing else in the world she could pay attention to instead. “Of what he would have been like, I mean, if he’d ever been allowed to have an adulthood. My boy as a young man. I’d have been very proud if he turned out like you.”
“And if I’d have wanted to go with the Doctor? What would you have said?”
“No way in hell. Mind, that’s having not met him. Knowing the Doctor as I do? I’d have told you to run with him, stick by his side and have as much fun as you can.”
***
TARDIS Console Room, Two Hours Later
“I’ll come.” Tommy joined the Doctor and Autumn down in the lower area around the bar, where Autumn had poured three lemonades. “I spoke to Natalie, and after six cups of tea and a session of therapy, she believed me and understood. She was my best friend for a long time. We can go back. So thank you the offer.”
“You’re very welcome,” said the Doctor. “It’s time to see why the TARDIS thinks you’re so special.”
“I don’t think it’ll take you long to see that,” said Autumn, not even realising what she was implying. “Now, this is all very posh, but where are the biscuits?”
“And where’s Robin?” asked Tommy.
“Biscuits,” insisted Autumn. “Priorities.”
“She’s gone home to her fiancé,” answered the Doctor, ignoring Autumn. “She won’t be travelling with us for a bit. She’s a casual passenger.”
“Oh, I didn’t know she was still with her fiancé. She told me about her son…”
“Her old husband died as well. This is a new fiancé.”
“God…”
“She’s fine,” said the Doctor. “Really. She’s strong, and resilient, and very good at moving on briskly and looking back on what she loved at the same time. I almost wish I had that quality.”
“Me too,” admitted Autumn. “Tommy, question. You’re studying Classics. Why?”
Tommy shrugged. “They just said pick something you find interesting.”
“So what do you want to do when you leave?”
Tommy shrugged again.
Autumn and the Doctor looked at each other with confusion. “But you said-“
“-it wasn’t me, I-“
“Have I missed something?” asked Tommy.
“We only spent the last two hours discussing your subject choice,” said the Doctor. “Autumn performed a whole psychoanalysis on you. Turns out there was no reason at all…” He yawned. “Which reminds me, Autumn. I believe you have something for me?” The Doctor held his hand out. “Memory stick.”
“I gave it back to the Master.”
“You did what?”
“Empty.” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Doctor, we really need to sit down and chat about plans. I transferred the data from the memory stick to the TARDIS. I thought you might want to have a look at it yourself.”
“Oh.” The Doctor seemed surprised. It was normally the sort of thing Autumn Rivers kept to herself. “Thank you.”
“No problem!” Autumn pulled another bottle out. “More lemonade?”
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NEXT TIMEDinner With Nobody
The Doctor makes his usual impression, taking Tommy to see a place he's studied for years - and considered a myth. The Land of the Cyclopes. Little does the Doctor know, however, that that's only the beginning of a long journey through a land of gods and monsters. A voyage. Or, even, an Odyssey... Episode List: 1. The Magic Box 2. Dinner With Nobody 3. Passing in the Night 4. A Shop For Limbs 5. Material Values 6. The Cloud Beneath The Sea 7. Wish You Were Here 8. A Castle Deep in the Woods 9. In Slumber Repose 10. A Perfect Circle 11. Under Ice 12. Waking the Witch 13. The Morning Fog |