Prologue
Epicurus, Sixth Region, The Eighth Great and Bountiful Human Empire
Staligon sighed, using the last of his energy to reach out and pull the mighty lever that controlled the lights. They all blinked off at once. He could still see the majestic hall around him, though the long displays were now without holograms, resembling empty bookshelves. The dome which stretched over the whole ship provided the natural light of the stars, and now without artificial light Staligon looked up and saw not his own ship reflected back at him, but the colossal industrial complex of Region Six.
He sighed again, wearier.
“Staligon.”
Staligon turned around, alarmed. Three men in black, somehow unaffected by the light, stood in a shadow in front of him.
“I suppose you’ve come to arrest me,” said Staligon.
“Unfortunately not.” The first man stepped forward. Staligon tried (and failed) to deduce whether he was a cheap brute or the genius of the operation.
“Lord Dalta was incarcerated.” Staligon adjusted his monocle. “For voting. And I was the one who collected the votes.”
“That was because Lord Dalta’s region of the Empire forbade his actions. Yours rather sadly does not.”
“So what are you going to do with me?”
“I’m going to encourage you to leave, Staligon.”
“For good?” Staligon looked around. “The Great Epicurus. I flew her out the first time, when we launched from the Amber Moon. What will happen to her now?”
“The ship will go into government hands.”
Staligon rolled his eyes.
“Your… radical methods were allowed,” continued the man disapprovingly, “because they worked. They were the only way. But a private business?” He shook his head. “People accepted planets being blown up if it meant theirs were safe. They didn’t accept people making a profit out of it. Evidently, planet-making was a mistake in the hands of businessmen. As a government initiative, all our aims will change.”
“I dread to think,” murmured Staligon to himself. “With your funding… I’m not sure anyone should have that power.”
“You already had power over life and death.” The man handed Staligon some ‘official’ paperwork which was probably telling him to take a nice holiday to Region Twenty-Eight. “How much further can we really take it?”
Staligon sighed, using the last of his energy to reach out and pull the mighty lever that controlled the lights. They all blinked off at once. He could still see the majestic hall around him, though the long displays were now without holograms, resembling empty bookshelves. The dome which stretched over the whole ship provided the natural light of the stars, and now without artificial light Staligon looked up and saw not his own ship reflected back at him, but the colossal industrial complex of Region Six.
He sighed again, wearier.
“Staligon.”
Staligon turned around, alarmed. Three men in black, somehow unaffected by the light, stood in a shadow in front of him.
“I suppose you’ve come to arrest me,” said Staligon.
“Unfortunately not.” The first man stepped forward. Staligon tried (and failed) to deduce whether he was a cheap brute or the genius of the operation.
“Lord Dalta was incarcerated.” Staligon adjusted his monocle. “For voting. And I was the one who collected the votes.”
“That was because Lord Dalta’s region of the Empire forbade his actions. Yours rather sadly does not.”
“So what are you going to do with me?”
“I’m going to encourage you to leave, Staligon.”
“For good?” Staligon looked around. “The Great Epicurus. I flew her out the first time, when we launched from the Amber Moon. What will happen to her now?”
“The ship will go into government hands.”
Staligon rolled his eyes.
“Your… radical methods were allowed,” continued the man disapprovingly, “because they worked. They were the only way. But a private business?” He shook his head. “People accepted planets being blown up if it meant theirs were safe. They didn’t accept people making a profit out of it. Evidently, planet-making was a mistake in the hands of businessmen. As a government initiative, all our aims will change.”
“I dread to think,” murmured Staligon to himself. “With your funding… I’m not sure anyone should have that power.”
“You already had power over life and death.” The man handed Staligon some ‘official’ paperwork which was probably telling him to take a nice holiday to Region Twenty-Eight. “How much further can we really take it?”
The Eighth Doctor Adventures
Series 2 - Episode 4
A Shop For Limbs
Written by Janine Rivers
Autumn was in a graveyard. She tried to focus, but she was dizzy. The only directions were up and down – left, right and whatever was in-between made no difference. Wherever she looked there were graves; when she spun on the spot, she lost track of where she started. They went on for miles, and miles, and miles.
When she turned again, there he was.
The man in the cloak.
He sent a shiver up her spine. She felt… no, it was ridiculous… she felt that she had seen him before. Who was he? His cloak was somewhere between black and blue, and whatever lay beneath the hood was darker still, too dark to see. Yet she saw his eyes through her mind, felt them staring at her.
She looked down. There was a shovel at her feet.
“All these graves,” said the man. His voice was indescribable, yet she heard it. He spoke, but in strange tongues foreign to the conscious mind. “So many dead. A whole planet.”
Autumn knew instantly what planet he meant.
“I don’t know if it’s them…” spoke the man. “I can’t know while they’re here… I need someone to show me.”
Autumn’s heart raced. A warning signal.
“Everyone is dead. No one to show me. Except one.”
“No…” said Autumn, yet she wasn’t speaking either.
“I need to see it’s them. I need to know. You have to show me, look.” He bowed his head, gesturing to the shovel at Autumn’s feet.
“I can’t. Please. I can’t.” Autumn tried to move but the wind and her own body pulled her back to the spot.
“Dig. Show me,” said the man. “Pick it up and dig. We can put her back, look.” Autumn looked to his side. There was a coffin. “It’s the right size. There are lots of them; each one fits a different person. We can put them back together, see who fits what. It can be like a game.”
“No, please don’t. Please don’t make me.”
“We’re not going anywhere until you’ve dug them all up,” insisted the man, getting angry. “You have to start or you’ll never go anywhere again.”
Autumn picked up the shovel, feeling herself cry, but no tears clouded her eyes. The shovel was so heavy, pulling her down, making her back ache constantly. She tried to dig but she couldn’t. A bit of soil shifted.
“Look at you,” teased the man. “You’re useless. It doesn’t matter, I have forever. Only you will get tired of this.”
Autumn tried again, short for breath.
“However tired you get, you’ll keep going. I’ll make you carry on. You can’t stop me.”
The shovel caught a mound of earth and Autumn used all her strength to push it aside. She knelt down by the grave, using her hands to move aside the soil. There was a face. She lifted the head gently. There was blood on some hands. No, wait, they were her hands. She lifted them.
The face that stared back at her was awful. There was blood around the eyes. The complexion was cracked. One patch was being chewed by maggots.
“You took too long,” spoke the cloaked man as Autumn trembled. “You took too long again and look what’s happened. You always take too long and it ruins everything.”
Autumn looked back at the face, reaching out a hand, wanting to fix those wide, broken, unblinking eyes.
“Mum…” she whispered. “Mum.”
“Look at what you’ve done,” continued the man. “If only you’d been earlier. If only you were stronger. Now you have to fix it. Now you have to keep digging and we’ll uncover them together. You have to because you’re the only one left. You have to because it was all your fault.”
“No,” cried Autumn. “Don’t make me. Please.” The weight of the shovel took over, even though it had long since disappeared. Autumn fell onto her mother. “No… no…”
Another voice. “Autumn?”
“No… hmm?” Autumn’s eyes adjusted.
“Are you okay?” The Doctor collected a glass of water from her bedside table. “Sorry, I’m probably a bit early. I’m taking Tommy home and I’m supposed to be going to a dinner party.” He grimaced. “A dinner party? What happens at them?”
Autumn forced a smile. “Remember the rules: no existential debates, no pretending you’re half-human.”
“Easier said than done,” muttered the Doctor, leaving the room. Autumn sat up and rubbed her eyes. She was sweaty from the… nightmare. It was a nightmare. She shuddered. It was like nothing she had ever experienced.
Notting Hill, London
The Doctor led the way out of the TARDIS, feeling strangely at home in the middle of this row of Victorian townhouses. “Right road?”
Tommy stepped out, almost more in awe than he was on an alien planet.
“Home. Just like that. No trains…”
The Doctor chuckled. “Well, I suppose so. I normally end up a bit off. Must have been a nice place to grow up.”
“I grew up in a townhouse,” said Autumn, admiring one in particular with a rockery on a tiny front lawn. “The stairs gave… lots of exercise.” The Doctor frowned. She seemed distant.
“Probably a bit different in your day,” added Tommy. “All holograms and space chairs.”
“Well, a bit… no, not really. It was just like this.”
“I didn’t grow up here anyway. This is just student accommodation, which my parents happen to own. You can come with me if you want,” offered Tommy. The Doctor smiled.
“I’d get in the way. Don’t you want to talk to your parents?”
“They live on the other side of the city, I was just gonna have a few friends over. You can join us.”
“Thanks for the offer Tommy.” Autumn smiled faintly. “I’ll join you in a bit. You can drop me off, right, Doctor?”
“Um… yes. I think. Just remind me what year it is before we go.”
“Right.” Tommy breathed the air. He never thought air pollution was noticeable, but deep space was so pure and clean. “I’ll see you later. No running off on me, or I’ll ring up the Time Lords.”
“They’re not in the phonebook, you know,” said the Doctor, heading back into the TARDIS with Autumn. Tommy laughed to himself, wondering if the Time Lords had a website.
***
Autumn sat on the barstool in the lowered area of the TARDIS, thinking about the dream. Beforehand she’d felt like getting lunch. Now she just felt sick. She could taste the soil she’d fallen into now, as if she was still experiencing the dream.
“Are you alright?”
Autumn snapped out of it. The sound of the time rotor had almost sent her back to sleep. The Doctor sat next to her.
“You haven’t been yourself lately. Is something the matter?”
“Last night, I…” Autumn paused, for some reason ashamed to say. She shook her head and looked to the floor. “It doesn’t matter. But I’ve been feeling… guilty.”
“Guilty? About what?”
“What I put you through. Four years, and everything that followed. And for what reason?”
“Justice,” suggested the Doctor. Roles had really reversed now.
“I was a hypocrite. You’re saying I wouldn’t have done the same in your situation? What was I assuming? That there was another way out?”
“Oh, Autumn…” The Doctor smiled sadly. “It’s been so long since what I did that you’ve forgotten. You weren’t angry about what happened; you were angry about how it happened. It was seen as procedure, and the Epicurus profited from it. That was wrong. There was never any doubting it. And then I lied about it for so long because I buried the memory away. It was gone, as long as there were no consequences. You showed me there were always consequences. That was right.”
“Was it? Honestly?”
“It depends on your definition of right. Maybe it wasn’t the right decision. But it had the right outcome. You changed the world for the better, in the end. And you changed me too. It will go away, eventually. The pain. Well, not go away, but it will become tolerable.”
“And the guilt?”
“That too. And I mean, I can only guess.” The Doctor got up. “I’ve lost a lot of things before but you’re something else entirely Autumn. You’re the last of your kind. I can never comprehend what that must feel like.”
Autumn thought about her answer. “I hope you never have to.”
“Thank you.” The Doctor landed the TARDIS as gently as he could. “We’re back at Tommy’s. Go and have some fun. You like him, don’t you? I can tell.”
“Well, he’s adequate,” said Autumn, getting up and trying to go back to being herself. “I’d manage perfectly well without him but he adds to the atmosphere.” The Doctor laughed as Autumn tried to seem detached.
“I’ll take that as a big fat yes.” The Doctor opened the doors for Autumn.
“Good luck at the dinner party,” said Autumn, patting the Doctor on the shoulder. “And just… you know, try to break it to him lightly.”
***
“No mum, we’re fine. How many of us?”
Tommy turned back to his friends, Natalie and Simon. Simon was using Natalie’s mirror to check his fringe as he combed it. Natalie was rolling her eyes.
“Three,” answered Tommy. “No, no… just three.” A pause. Natalie tried to fill in the gaps in her head. Simon continued to comb his hair. “No, of course I’m not having a party. That’s stereotyping. Mum, I’m a big boy now.”
Natalie gestured for Tommy to put his mum on speakerphone, to which he obliged.
“What are you doing?” asked Tommy’s mum, her voice sending what felt like an ultra-powerful wave around the room.
“We’re drinking tea and playing cards,” said Tommy. Natalie picked up the deck and started shuffling. Simon remembered his cold tea and cursed.
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” retorted his mum. “You’re twenty-one.”
“Okay, you’ve got me, we’re running a brothel and taking shots every time someone says ‘me next’”.
Natalie giggled.
“I’ll put you on speakerphone.” Tommy pretended she wasn’t already. “Listen to that? A calm breeze, shuffling cards, and Simon drinking cold tea.” He glared at Simon.
“Okay, well I trust you.”
“Strange way of showing it,” answered Tommy sarcastically.
“I’ll see you later then. Love you.”
“Mum, you’re still on speakerphone.”
“Well in which case, oodles of kisses, my little pud-“
Suddenly, she wasn’t on speakerphone.
“Bye mum!” said Tommy, rushing the end of the phone-call.
Autumn stood in the doorway, taking Tommy by surprise. She always had a way of creeping up on you, but this time she made no attempt to assert her authority, quietly waiting by the entrance to be welcomed.
“Autumn,” said Tommy, almost surprised to see her. “Hi. Um, Natalie, Simon, this is my friend Autumn.”
“We’ve met,” muttered Natalie. Autumn was unsure exactly what Tommy had told her since the night, but she didn’t seem surprised that her name wasn’t Eve.
“Please, sit down.” Tommy pulled a chair back for Autumn, and all four sat at the dining-room table. Natalie reshuffled the deck.
“We’re playing bullshit,” said Simon.
“I’m sorry?”
“The game. Bullshit. Basically, you put cards of the same number down and say what you’ve just put down. Or you put cards of different numbers down and lie about them, saying they’re the same. But if you’re caught lying – someone saying bullshit – then you’ve got to pick up all the cards that have been put down. And the aim is to get rid of all your cards.”
“Right…”
“You explained that terribly,” complained Natalie.
“No, it’s fine, I get it.”
“I’ll start.” Natalie placed three cards down in the centre of the table. “Three kings.”
“Bullshit!” yelled Autumn, taking everyone by surprise, then lowering her voice, “I’ve got three kings as well!”
“Autumn…” Tommy leant over, trying to hide his amusement. “You don’t tell them that.”
“Oh. So is it my turn now?”
Natalie picked up the cards she’d just put down. “Yes. This should be fun.”
“Okay… three kings.” Autumn put three cards down.
“Well we know that’s true because she’s just said it,” pointed out Natalie. “Tommy, your turn.”
“Two nines.”
“Two sixes.”
“Two fours.”
“Three kings,” said Autumn, putting another three down.
“Bullshit,” called Natalie. “There are only four kings in total.”
“I know.”
Autumn lifted the top three cards and showed Natalie. They were indeed three kings.
“But you said, last time…” Natalie searched the whole pile. There were only three kings in the lot.
Autumn smiled knowingly.
“I think someone’s been playing us from the start,” observed Tommy. “Probably answers my question of ‘did you have cards back home?’.”
“No, we didn’t. But the principle is easy enough to grasp, and it’s easy enough to take advantage of people’s preconceptions.”
“Yeah…”
Natalie tried to hide her admiration.
***
“Can you get that?” called Robin from upstairs. Chris jogged up to the door and fumbled around for the key. He was greeted by an Edwardian in a brown suit jacket. Even Robin was taken by surprise, used to his current, less remarkable attire. He had obviously found the wardrobe at last.
“Mr McKnight?” asked the Doctor, offering a handshake.
“Oh, just Chris,” responded Mr McKnight, giving the Doctor a firm handshake and a warm smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you Gabriel. Come in.”
***
As Autumn impressed Simon at the piano with a rendition of a great classic that wouldn’t be written for a million years, Tommy and Natalie sat on the sofa, looking out of the window at the evening drawing to a close.
“Tommy… I… need to ask you something.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I mean, I need to ask something of you.”
“Anything. Go ahead.”
“There’s some financial trouble at home. Things could be getting a bit heated. Do you mind if I stay here? I mean, my family will have to stay at home, but having me there will just stress them out more.”
“Bring them all.”
“What?”
“Let them all stay here. We’ve got three bedrooms and a sofa. I’ll get a room at a B&B, there’s one quite close and I’ve always fancied a look.”
“What? No. I can’t take this house from you. Thanks for the offer, but-“
“Natalie-“ Tommy silenced her. “Things have happened recently, since the blue box. I have more money at my disposal than I know what do with,” he lied. “I need to get out and spend some, it’s driving me mad. And I need to get out of here, because I think Autumn needs some space.” He wondered if that lie was in reality true. “I want to do this for you.”
***
“What’s this?”
“Lamb casserole.” Robin wiped her mouth. “Chris cooked it.”
“You’re quite a chef, Mr McKnight. So, has Robin told you about the time travel?”
“Oh, yes.” Chris laughed gently. “She said if she told me first, it would soften the blow.”
“Yes, sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to Robin’s unconventional sense of humour.”
“Oh. Humour. Yes.” The Doctor’s expression turned serious. “I’m about to show my time machine.”
“Oh, are you?” Chris played along, expecting a punchline. “I’d love to go somewhere.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but you can have a look around, certainly.”
The Doctor took out his keys – some gimmick remote-controlled ones – and pressed a button. A blue vessel materialised at the end of the room, bright white light emanating from its windows. Chris choked on his drink.
“Oh my God.” His eyes popped out their sockets. “It’s the TARDIS.”
“What? Robin, did you tell him its name?”
“No, I just said time machine; I was going to leave the rest to you…”
Chris stood up and approached the TARDIS, his eyes fixed on ‘Police Public Call Box’. He ran his hand across a front panel. “It’s all true… so…” He turned, suddenly; collected. “You must be the Doctor then.”
“You’ve heard of me?”
Chris laughed at a joke the Doctor got the impression he should understand. “I’m the head-teacher at Coal Hill School. How could I not have heard of you? But I thought you were just a myth, I thought… I don’t know… but it’s all true. An alien visits my school. I… I…”
“Take your time.” Robin could tell the Doctor was enjoying it.
“I… I should really start charging you for the damage.”
“Ah. Yes, sorry about that.”
“Wow. Just…” Chris looked up and down the ship one more time. “Wow. So it’s bigger on the inside too?”
“I’ll let you decide for yourself.” The Doctor pushed the door open, and Chris McKnight’s life was never the same again.
***
“You can have your pick of rooms,” said Tommy, handing Autumn the keys and slinging his bag over his back. “Be nice to the big kids.”
“I am the big kid.”
“You should get that on a t-shirt.” He addressed Natalie. “You two will be alright?”
“We’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” Tommy nodded. “Seeya,” said Natalie, waving him off and closing the door.
There was momentary silence.
“What now?” asked Autumn.
“Simon’s going to finish the assignment he’s supposed to have completed for next week.” Natalie cast an indignant look over to Simon.
“While you…?”
“While we got out shopping.” Natalie linked arms with Autumn.
“Hmm, late night shopping trip. That takes me back.”
“Shops were probably different where you came from. Tommy did mention. Where was it again?”
The pair made their way to the back door so as not to bump into Tommy on their way out.
“The Eighth Great and Bountiful Human Empire.”
“Sounds lovely. Bye Simon!”
“Bye,” called Simon.
“Now,” started Natalie. “I hope you’ve got money, because I haven’t got a penny…”
***
Like the rest of the street, the B&B was Victorian, with bay windows and a slanted rooftop. The brickwork was crumbling and mossy, and the Gothic lettering of ‘Nagy’s Bed & Breakfast’ was framed in a dark wood signpost. The doors seemed to be bigger than most houses on the street, and a small fountain outside spat water intermittently out of corroded sprays. It was like an animated haunted house.
“Come in!”
A red-haired woman with wide, blue eyes emerged from the building, exotic robes swinging behind her. Tommy couldn’t place her accent. Her husband, a strapping, bearded man capable of a fine waxwork impression, stood motionless by the entrance, unmoved by Tommy’s arrival.
“We’ve been very busy, very busy…” She hurried him in. “You are the only one staying. We will get you big room. I am Mrs N. This is Mr N.”
Tommy wondered how many times the inside of this place had been patched up, how many times a door had fallen off its hinges, how many times a floorboard had shot into the air when stepped on, how many times the ancient, winding staircase had been propped up by Mr N and how long he’d stood there.
“I will show you to your room,” said Mrs N, frantically throwing papers on the floor. “You can come and visit the museum any time in the day you like… you can buy from museum too…”
“Museum?” asked Tommy.
“Yes, yes, plastics museum. Old toys and dolls. You can buy spare parts if you have broken toy at home.”
“Lovely,” muttered Tommy. “A shop for limbs.”
***
“I never expected it to make such a loud noise. But it’s kind of calming. I like it.”
The Doctor dashed around the console, looking for something. “It’s a time machine. Machine. It’s got engines. And…” he checked under the console. “I don’t know what’s sending that signal but whatever it is, we’re caught right in the middle of it.”
“Signal?” asked Robin. “What sort of signal.”
“I’m not sure, but it’s scrambling the circuits. It’s big.”
***
“I love scarves.” Autumn threw a red scarf around her neck, admiring it in the mirror. “These are antique.”
“Antique scarves?”
“I love the dress sense of this time. So quirky.”
“Autumn, seriously. Like, really. Where are you from?”
“Far away and yet to come. Are you sure you want to know? It’s a long story.”
“Yes… ooh, shoes!” Natalie’s attention averted to the women’s shoe aisle of Next. “Look at those heels.”
“Wearing those things is heroic.” Autumn looked at another pair. “Meet me halfway. I like these ones.”
“They’re not bad actually.” Natalie stared down at the cone heels sadly. “I miss the days of being able to afford these things. Just being able to pick them up and pay for them and think no more of it. Not being able to has changed me a bit, I think.” She laughed it off. “That was dramatic. Sorry.”
“What happened?” asked Autumn.
“The government,” chuckled Natalie. “I’m sure it’s alright for some. Good on them. But it’s not the best time to be… well, me.”
“I’ll buy them for you,” volunteered Autumn.
“Sorry?”
“The shoes. I’ll buy them for you and you can think no more of it.”
“Oh, no. Thanks for the offer, but-“
“I have more money than I know what to do with. My parents died and left a lot,” she lied. “I enjoy spending it. Please.”
“Okay.” Natalie nodded politely to Autumn. “Thank you.”
***
Tommy lay in bed drifting off. He wondered how in debt Natalie was. She’d never admit it to him. If only there was a way of telling. He thought about Autumn and wondered how she was getting on with Natalie. They were probably fighting.
As he fidgeted on his squeaky mattress, the sound returned louder than before, between the calls of birds outside; a dragging, scraping sound, as unpleasant as the thing he imagined was causing it. He pictured Mr N dragging a boot along the floor, or Mrs N pushing a table for tomorrow’s breakfast, never sleeping, just a nocturnal mechanism of this strange building. But he knew they were both asleep, or at least resting on the floor above him. The sound got louder and it was joined by a steady thumping.
Burglars?
He got up, the mattress squeaking again with his movement. The floorboards followed in imitation. He slipped a pair of slippers on. The floor was icy. The door creaked too. Everything here creaked, even the owners. What didn’t creak ticked, like the radiators and clocks, all set to a different time.
Tommy crept downstairs, wondering if there was a rule against it. The sound was more identifiable now, coming from behind a door… she pointed to that door. What had she said? Then he remembered – that was the entrance to the museum. To the shop for limbs.
Going against his better nature, he pushed the door open, trying to look around. There were no lights, and this was a cellar room, cold and damp. He thanked himself for wearing a dressing gown, but felt his slippers getting soggy. The door closed behind him, stopped from slamming by a crumpled bit of carpet.
Tommy stumbled, and felt his nose whack into hard ground. There was one more stair than he’d been expecting.
He stood up, realising what he’d missed – the sound had stopped. There was no thumping and no scraping.
At some point, while he was preoccupied – perhaps while he fell – the sound had stopped.
When he’d made himself visible.
Which meant one thing.
It had stopped because of him.
Standing up, Tommy did his best to wipe himself down. He felt a damp patch on his face, hoping it was water or sweat, not blood. There was definitely a bruise emerging already.
He turned around. A beam of moonlight had seeped in through the semi-opened door, illuminating about a metre upwards, the width of a narrow beam. Enough to identify the items on a shelf.
Tommy shivered as he looked at the doll. It was an old doll, stiller than Mr N, yet he sensed it was somehow more alive, too. It stared straight at him, deep into his eyes, with that sinister baby smile trapped in the wind. Tommy brushed the paranoia aside, moving to another part of the room. It was just a coincidence.
But when he looked back, it was still staring at him. Through him. No… into him.
The door opened further, and Tommy thought he could identify a silhouette blocking the moonlight. The rest of the moonlight beamed through, and then he saw it.
All of the toys – every single one, from one-eyed dolls to patched-up, mad-eyed monkeys – were staring straight at him.
***
“Oh no.” The Doctor stared at the screen. “Oh no, oh no, oh no. I hope I’m wrong. I really hope I’m wrong about this.”
“Wrong about what? Doctor?”
“The signal. I recognise it.”
He ran to the door, Robin and Chris following closely behind. Chris was already enjoying his first adventure, already understanding it was probably wrong to.
When she turned again, there he was.
The man in the cloak.
He sent a shiver up her spine. She felt… no, it was ridiculous… she felt that she had seen him before. Who was he? His cloak was somewhere between black and blue, and whatever lay beneath the hood was darker still, too dark to see. Yet she saw his eyes through her mind, felt them staring at her.
She looked down. There was a shovel at her feet.
“All these graves,” said the man. His voice was indescribable, yet she heard it. He spoke, but in strange tongues foreign to the conscious mind. “So many dead. A whole planet.”
Autumn knew instantly what planet he meant.
“I don’t know if it’s them…” spoke the man. “I can’t know while they’re here… I need someone to show me.”
Autumn’s heart raced. A warning signal.
“Everyone is dead. No one to show me. Except one.”
“No…” said Autumn, yet she wasn’t speaking either.
“I need to see it’s them. I need to know. You have to show me, look.” He bowed his head, gesturing to the shovel at Autumn’s feet.
“I can’t. Please. I can’t.” Autumn tried to move but the wind and her own body pulled her back to the spot.
“Dig. Show me,” said the man. “Pick it up and dig. We can put her back, look.” Autumn looked to his side. There was a coffin. “It’s the right size. There are lots of them; each one fits a different person. We can put them back together, see who fits what. It can be like a game.”
“No, please don’t. Please don’t make me.”
“We’re not going anywhere until you’ve dug them all up,” insisted the man, getting angry. “You have to start or you’ll never go anywhere again.”
Autumn picked up the shovel, feeling herself cry, but no tears clouded her eyes. The shovel was so heavy, pulling her down, making her back ache constantly. She tried to dig but she couldn’t. A bit of soil shifted.
“Look at you,” teased the man. “You’re useless. It doesn’t matter, I have forever. Only you will get tired of this.”
Autumn tried again, short for breath.
“However tired you get, you’ll keep going. I’ll make you carry on. You can’t stop me.”
The shovel caught a mound of earth and Autumn used all her strength to push it aside. She knelt down by the grave, using her hands to move aside the soil. There was a face. She lifted the head gently. There was blood on some hands. No, wait, they were her hands. She lifted them.
The face that stared back at her was awful. There was blood around the eyes. The complexion was cracked. One patch was being chewed by maggots.
“You took too long,” spoke the cloaked man as Autumn trembled. “You took too long again and look what’s happened. You always take too long and it ruins everything.”
Autumn looked back at the face, reaching out a hand, wanting to fix those wide, broken, unblinking eyes.
“Mum…” she whispered. “Mum.”
“Look at what you’ve done,” continued the man. “If only you’d been earlier. If only you were stronger. Now you have to fix it. Now you have to keep digging and we’ll uncover them together. You have to because you’re the only one left. You have to because it was all your fault.”
“No,” cried Autumn. “Don’t make me. Please.” The weight of the shovel took over, even though it had long since disappeared. Autumn fell onto her mother. “No… no…”
Another voice. “Autumn?”
“No… hmm?” Autumn’s eyes adjusted.
“Are you okay?” The Doctor collected a glass of water from her bedside table. “Sorry, I’m probably a bit early. I’m taking Tommy home and I’m supposed to be going to a dinner party.” He grimaced. “A dinner party? What happens at them?”
Autumn forced a smile. “Remember the rules: no existential debates, no pretending you’re half-human.”
“Easier said than done,” muttered the Doctor, leaving the room. Autumn sat up and rubbed her eyes. She was sweaty from the… nightmare. It was a nightmare. She shuddered. It was like nothing she had ever experienced.
Notting Hill, London
The Doctor led the way out of the TARDIS, feeling strangely at home in the middle of this row of Victorian townhouses. “Right road?”
Tommy stepped out, almost more in awe than he was on an alien planet.
“Home. Just like that. No trains…”
The Doctor chuckled. “Well, I suppose so. I normally end up a bit off. Must have been a nice place to grow up.”
“I grew up in a townhouse,” said Autumn, admiring one in particular with a rockery on a tiny front lawn. “The stairs gave… lots of exercise.” The Doctor frowned. She seemed distant.
“Probably a bit different in your day,” added Tommy. “All holograms and space chairs.”
“Well, a bit… no, not really. It was just like this.”
“I didn’t grow up here anyway. This is just student accommodation, which my parents happen to own. You can come with me if you want,” offered Tommy. The Doctor smiled.
“I’d get in the way. Don’t you want to talk to your parents?”
“They live on the other side of the city, I was just gonna have a few friends over. You can join us.”
“Thanks for the offer Tommy.” Autumn smiled faintly. “I’ll join you in a bit. You can drop me off, right, Doctor?”
“Um… yes. I think. Just remind me what year it is before we go.”
“Right.” Tommy breathed the air. He never thought air pollution was noticeable, but deep space was so pure and clean. “I’ll see you later. No running off on me, or I’ll ring up the Time Lords.”
“They’re not in the phonebook, you know,” said the Doctor, heading back into the TARDIS with Autumn. Tommy laughed to himself, wondering if the Time Lords had a website.
***
Autumn sat on the barstool in the lowered area of the TARDIS, thinking about the dream. Beforehand she’d felt like getting lunch. Now she just felt sick. She could taste the soil she’d fallen into now, as if she was still experiencing the dream.
“Are you alright?”
Autumn snapped out of it. The sound of the time rotor had almost sent her back to sleep. The Doctor sat next to her.
“You haven’t been yourself lately. Is something the matter?”
“Last night, I…” Autumn paused, for some reason ashamed to say. She shook her head and looked to the floor. “It doesn’t matter. But I’ve been feeling… guilty.”
“Guilty? About what?”
“What I put you through. Four years, and everything that followed. And for what reason?”
“Justice,” suggested the Doctor. Roles had really reversed now.
“I was a hypocrite. You’re saying I wouldn’t have done the same in your situation? What was I assuming? That there was another way out?”
“Oh, Autumn…” The Doctor smiled sadly. “It’s been so long since what I did that you’ve forgotten. You weren’t angry about what happened; you were angry about how it happened. It was seen as procedure, and the Epicurus profited from it. That was wrong. There was never any doubting it. And then I lied about it for so long because I buried the memory away. It was gone, as long as there were no consequences. You showed me there were always consequences. That was right.”
“Was it? Honestly?”
“It depends on your definition of right. Maybe it wasn’t the right decision. But it had the right outcome. You changed the world for the better, in the end. And you changed me too. It will go away, eventually. The pain. Well, not go away, but it will become tolerable.”
“And the guilt?”
“That too. And I mean, I can only guess.” The Doctor got up. “I’ve lost a lot of things before but you’re something else entirely Autumn. You’re the last of your kind. I can never comprehend what that must feel like.”
Autumn thought about her answer. “I hope you never have to.”
“Thank you.” The Doctor landed the TARDIS as gently as he could. “We’re back at Tommy’s. Go and have some fun. You like him, don’t you? I can tell.”
“Well, he’s adequate,” said Autumn, getting up and trying to go back to being herself. “I’d manage perfectly well without him but he adds to the atmosphere.” The Doctor laughed as Autumn tried to seem detached.
“I’ll take that as a big fat yes.” The Doctor opened the doors for Autumn.
“Good luck at the dinner party,” said Autumn, patting the Doctor on the shoulder. “And just… you know, try to break it to him lightly.”
***
“No mum, we’re fine. How many of us?”
Tommy turned back to his friends, Natalie and Simon. Simon was using Natalie’s mirror to check his fringe as he combed it. Natalie was rolling her eyes.
“Three,” answered Tommy. “No, no… just three.” A pause. Natalie tried to fill in the gaps in her head. Simon continued to comb his hair. “No, of course I’m not having a party. That’s stereotyping. Mum, I’m a big boy now.”
Natalie gestured for Tommy to put his mum on speakerphone, to which he obliged.
“What are you doing?” asked Tommy’s mum, her voice sending what felt like an ultra-powerful wave around the room.
“We’re drinking tea and playing cards,” said Tommy. Natalie picked up the deck and started shuffling. Simon remembered his cold tea and cursed.
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” retorted his mum. “You’re twenty-one.”
“Okay, you’ve got me, we’re running a brothel and taking shots every time someone says ‘me next’”.
Natalie giggled.
“I’ll put you on speakerphone.” Tommy pretended she wasn’t already. “Listen to that? A calm breeze, shuffling cards, and Simon drinking cold tea.” He glared at Simon.
“Okay, well I trust you.”
“Strange way of showing it,” answered Tommy sarcastically.
“I’ll see you later then. Love you.”
“Mum, you’re still on speakerphone.”
“Well in which case, oodles of kisses, my little pud-“
Suddenly, she wasn’t on speakerphone.
“Bye mum!” said Tommy, rushing the end of the phone-call.
Autumn stood in the doorway, taking Tommy by surprise. She always had a way of creeping up on you, but this time she made no attempt to assert her authority, quietly waiting by the entrance to be welcomed.
“Autumn,” said Tommy, almost surprised to see her. “Hi. Um, Natalie, Simon, this is my friend Autumn.”
“We’ve met,” muttered Natalie. Autumn was unsure exactly what Tommy had told her since the night, but she didn’t seem surprised that her name wasn’t Eve.
“Please, sit down.” Tommy pulled a chair back for Autumn, and all four sat at the dining-room table. Natalie reshuffled the deck.
“We’re playing bullshit,” said Simon.
“I’m sorry?”
“The game. Bullshit. Basically, you put cards of the same number down and say what you’ve just put down. Or you put cards of different numbers down and lie about them, saying they’re the same. But if you’re caught lying – someone saying bullshit – then you’ve got to pick up all the cards that have been put down. And the aim is to get rid of all your cards.”
“Right…”
“You explained that terribly,” complained Natalie.
“No, it’s fine, I get it.”
“I’ll start.” Natalie placed three cards down in the centre of the table. “Three kings.”
“Bullshit!” yelled Autumn, taking everyone by surprise, then lowering her voice, “I’ve got three kings as well!”
“Autumn…” Tommy leant over, trying to hide his amusement. “You don’t tell them that.”
“Oh. So is it my turn now?”
Natalie picked up the cards she’d just put down. “Yes. This should be fun.”
“Okay… three kings.” Autumn put three cards down.
“Well we know that’s true because she’s just said it,” pointed out Natalie. “Tommy, your turn.”
“Two nines.”
“Two sixes.”
“Two fours.”
“Three kings,” said Autumn, putting another three down.
“Bullshit,” called Natalie. “There are only four kings in total.”
“I know.”
Autumn lifted the top three cards and showed Natalie. They were indeed three kings.
“But you said, last time…” Natalie searched the whole pile. There were only three kings in the lot.
Autumn smiled knowingly.
“I think someone’s been playing us from the start,” observed Tommy. “Probably answers my question of ‘did you have cards back home?’.”
“No, we didn’t. But the principle is easy enough to grasp, and it’s easy enough to take advantage of people’s preconceptions.”
“Yeah…”
Natalie tried to hide her admiration.
***
“Can you get that?” called Robin from upstairs. Chris jogged up to the door and fumbled around for the key. He was greeted by an Edwardian in a brown suit jacket. Even Robin was taken by surprise, used to his current, less remarkable attire. He had obviously found the wardrobe at last.
“Mr McKnight?” asked the Doctor, offering a handshake.
“Oh, just Chris,” responded Mr McKnight, giving the Doctor a firm handshake and a warm smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you Gabriel. Come in.”
***
As Autumn impressed Simon at the piano with a rendition of a great classic that wouldn’t be written for a million years, Tommy and Natalie sat on the sofa, looking out of the window at the evening drawing to a close.
“Tommy… I… need to ask you something.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I mean, I need to ask something of you.”
“Anything. Go ahead.”
“There’s some financial trouble at home. Things could be getting a bit heated. Do you mind if I stay here? I mean, my family will have to stay at home, but having me there will just stress them out more.”
“Bring them all.”
“What?”
“Let them all stay here. We’ve got three bedrooms and a sofa. I’ll get a room at a B&B, there’s one quite close and I’ve always fancied a look.”
“What? No. I can’t take this house from you. Thanks for the offer, but-“
“Natalie-“ Tommy silenced her. “Things have happened recently, since the blue box. I have more money at my disposal than I know what do with,” he lied. “I need to get out and spend some, it’s driving me mad. And I need to get out of here, because I think Autumn needs some space.” He wondered if that lie was in reality true. “I want to do this for you.”
***
“What’s this?”
“Lamb casserole.” Robin wiped her mouth. “Chris cooked it.”
“You’re quite a chef, Mr McKnight. So, has Robin told you about the time travel?”
“Oh, yes.” Chris laughed gently. “She said if she told me first, it would soften the blow.”
“Yes, sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to Robin’s unconventional sense of humour.”
“Oh. Humour. Yes.” The Doctor’s expression turned serious. “I’m about to show my time machine.”
“Oh, are you?” Chris played along, expecting a punchline. “I’d love to go somewhere.”
“Well, I don’t know about that, but you can have a look around, certainly.”
The Doctor took out his keys – some gimmick remote-controlled ones – and pressed a button. A blue vessel materialised at the end of the room, bright white light emanating from its windows. Chris choked on his drink.
“Oh my God.” His eyes popped out their sockets. “It’s the TARDIS.”
“What? Robin, did you tell him its name?”
“No, I just said time machine; I was going to leave the rest to you…”
Chris stood up and approached the TARDIS, his eyes fixed on ‘Police Public Call Box’. He ran his hand across a front panel. “It’s all true… so…” He turned, suddenly; collected. “You must be the Doctor then.”
“You’ve heard of me?”
Chris laughed at a joke the Doctor got the impression he should understand. “I’m the head-teacher at Coal Hill School. How could I not have heard of you? But I thought you were just a myth, I thought… I don’t know… but it’s all true. An alien visits my school. I… I…”
“Take your time.” Robin could tell the Doctor was enjoying it.
“I… I should really start charging you for the damage.”
“Ah. Yes, sorry about that.”
“Wow. Just…” Chris looked up and down the ship one more time. “Wow. So it’s bigger on the inside too?”
“I’ll let you decide for yourself.” The Doctor pushed the door open, and Chris McKnight’s life was never the same again.
***
“You can have your pick of rooms,” said Tommy, handing Autumn the keys and slinging his bag over his back. “Be nice to the big kids.”
“I am the big kid.”
“You should get that on a t-shirt.” He addressed Natalie. “You two will be alright?”
“We’ll be fine. Stop worrying.” Tommy nodded. “Seeya,” said Natalie, waving him off and closing the door.
There was momentary silence.
“What now?” asked Autumn.
“Simon’s going to finish the assignment he’s supposed to have completed for next week.” Natalie cast an indignant look over to Simon.
“While you…?”
“While we got out shopping.” Natalie linked arms with Autumn.
“Hmm, late night shopping trip. That takes me back.”
“Shops were probably different where you came from. Tommy did mention. Where was it again?”
The pair made their way to the back door so as not to bump into Tommy on their way out.
“The Eighth Great and Bountiful Human Empire.”
“Sounds lovely. Bye Simon!”
“Bye,” called Simon.
“Now,” started Natalie. “I hope you’ve got money, because I haven’t got a penny…”
***
Like the rest of the street, the B&B was Victorian, with bay windows and a slanted rooftop. The brickwork was crumbling and mossy, and the Gothic lettering of ‘Nagy’s Bed & Breakfast’ was framed in a dark wood signpost. The doors seemed to be bigger than most houses on the street, and a small fountain outside spat water intermittently out of corroded sprays. It was like an animated haunted house.
“Come in!”
A red-haired woman with wide, blue eyes emerged from the building, exotic robes swinging behind her. Tommy couldn’t place her accent. Her husband, a strapping, bearded man capable of a fine waxwork impression, stood motionless by the entrance, unmoved by Tommy’s arrival.
“We’ve been very busy, very busy…” She hurried him in. “You are the only one staying. We will get you big room. I am Mrs N. This is Mr N.”
Tommy wondered how many times the inside of this place had been patched up, how many times a door had fallen off its hinges, how many times a floorboard had shot into the air when stepped on, how many times the ancient, winding staircase had been propped up by Mr N and how long he’d stood there.
“I will show you to your room,” said Mrs N, frantically throwing papers on the floor. “You can come and visit the museum any time in the day you like… you can buy from museum too…”
“Museum?” asked Tommy.
“Yes, yes, plastics museum. Old toys and dolls. You can buy spare parts if you have broken toy at home.”
“Lovely,” muttered Tommy. “A shop for limbs.”
***
“I never expected it to make such a loud noise. But it’s kind of calming. I like it.”
The Doctor dashed around the console, looking for something. “It’s a time machine. Machine. It’s got engines. And…” he checked under the console. “I don’t know what’s sending that signal but whatever it is, we’re caught right in the middle of it.”
“Signal?” asked Robin. “What sort of signal.”
“I’m not sure, but it’s scrambling the circuits. It’s big.”
***
“I love scarves.” Autumn threw a red scarf around her neck, admiring it in the mirror. “These are antique.”
“Antique scarves?”
“I love the dress sense of this time. So quirky.”
“Autumn, seriously. Like, really. Where are you from?”
“Far away and yet to come. Are you sure you want to know? It’s a long story.”
“Yes… ooh, shoes!” Natalie’s attention averted to the women’s shoe aisle of Next. “Look at those heels.”
“Wearing those things is heroic.” Autumn looked at another pair. “Meet me halfway. I like these ones.”
“They’re not bad actually.” Natalie stared down at the cone heels sadly. “I miss the days of being able to afford these things. Just being able to pick them up and pay for them and think no more of it. Not being able to has changed me a bit, I think.” She laughed it off. “That was dramatic. Sorry.”
“What happened?” asked Autumn.
“The government,” chuckled Natalie. “I’m sure it’s alright for some. Good on them. But it’s not the best time to be… well, me.”
“I’ll buy them for you,” volunteered Autumn.
“Sorry?”
“The shoes. I’ll buy them for you and you can think no more of it.”
“Oh, no. Thanks for the offer, but-“
“I have more money than I know what to do with. My parents died and left a lot,” she lied. “I enjoy spending it. Please.”
“Okay.” Natalie nodded politely to Autumn. “Thank you.”
***
Tommy lay in bed drifting off. He wondered how in debt Natalie was. She’d never admit it to him. If only there was a way of telling. He thought about Autumn and wondered how she was getting on with Natalie. They were probably fighting.
As he fidgeted on his squeaky mattress, the sound returned louder than before, between the calls of birds outside; a dragging, scraping sound, as unpleasant as the thing he imagined was causing it. He pictured Mr N dragging a boot along the floor, or Mrs N pushing a table for tomorrow’s breakfast, never sleeping, just a nocturnal mechanism of this strange building. But he knew they were both asleep, or at least resting on the floor above him. The sound got louder and it was joined by a steady thumping.
Burglars?
He got up, the mattress squeaking again with his movement. The floorboards followed in imitation. He slipped a pair of slippers on. The floor was icy. The door creaked too. Everything here creaked, even the owners. What didn’t creak ticked, like the radiators and clocks, all set to a different time.
Tommy crept downstairs, wondering if there was a rule against it. The sound was more identifiable now, coming from behind a door… she pointed to that door. What had she said? Then he remembered – that was the entrance to the museum. To the shop for limbs.
Going against his better nature, he pushed the door open, trying to look around. There were no lights, and this was a cellar room, cold and damp. He thanked himself for wearing a dressing gown, but felt his slippers getting soggy. The door closed behind him, stopped from slamming by a crumpled bit of carpet.
Tommy stumbled, and felt his nose whack into hard ground. There was one more stair than he’d been expecting.
He stood up, realising what he’d missed – the sound had stopped. There was no thumping and no scraping.
At some point, while he was preoccupied – perhaps while he fell – the sound had stopped.
When he’d made himself visible.
Which meant one thing.
It had stopped because of him.
Standing up, Tommy did his best to wipe himself down. He felt a damp patch on his face, hoping it was water or sweat, not blood. There was definitely a bruise emerging already.
He turned around. A beam of moonlight had seeped in through the semi-opened door, illuminating about a metre upwards, the width of a narrow beam. Enough to identify the items on a shelf.
Tommy shivered as he looked at the doll. It was an old doll, stiller than Mr N, yet he sensed it was somehow more alive, too. It stared straight at him, deep into his eyes, with that sinister baby smile trapped in the wind. Tommy brushed the paranoia aside, moving to another part of the room. It was just a coincidence.
But when he looked back, it was still staring at him. Through him. No… into him.
The door opened further, and Tommy thought he could identify a silhouette blocking the moonlight. The rest of the moonlight beamed through, and then he saw it.
All of the toys – every single one, from one-eyed dolls to patched-up, mad-eyed monkeys – were staring straight at him.
***
“Oh no.” The Doctor stared at the screen. “Oh no, oh no, oh no. I hope I’m wrong. I really hope I’m wrong about this.”
“Wrong about what? Doctor?”
“The signal. I recognise it.”
He ran to the door, Robin and Chris following closely behind. Chris was already enjoying his first adventure, already understanding it was probably wrong to.
“Oh…” Robin looked around where the Doctor had materialised. They were in the middle of a shopping centre. Chris noticed that night had fallen and went to check his watch, realising that it would be useless now time travel was involved.
“Please be wrong…” The Doctor stood in the middle of the crowd of late-night shoppers with his fingers crossed. “Please be wrong… please be wrong.”
Then, a crash.
What sounded like a hundred windows smashed. People turned and screamed. Others ducked, on instinct. People were stepping out of the windows. But they weren’t people. They were…
It took a minute to realise. They were so real, so perfect. Their movements were just slightly robotic and that gave them away. Otherwise, the only way of telling would have been how perfect they were. How well-defined their bodies were. How beautiful their made-up faces were.
“I knew I recognised the signal,” repeated the Doctor. “I knew I recognised it.”
“What are they?” asked Robin.
“Nestene.”
***
“Have the dress as well.”
“No, I can’t.” Natalie pushed it away. “You’ll make me feel guilty.”
“Fair enough,” said Autumn, now well-familiarised with that particular emotion. “But only if you’re sure.” She hung the dress up.
“Sorry- oh.”
“What?”
“No, it’s nothing. I thought the mannequin was a person when I nudged into it.”
“Well…” Autumn stood next to Natalie and admired the mannequin, deliberately tanned with hair at asymmetrical angles. The top half of its raised hand dropped, startling both the young women.
“Oh, God.” Natalie put her hand to her heart for a second. “Frightened the life out of me… huh, look at that.” She examined the hand closely. “What is it?”
“That’s…”
That was when it hit Autumn. She jumped forward, pulling Natalie away and onto the floor. Shoppers screamed. There was a loud crashing sound from outside.
“That was close,” whispered Autumn, getting up. She raised her hands and studied them momentarily. There was blood, but she hadn’t hurt herself. She looked at where she’d lifted her hands from – Natalie.
The mannequin had shot Natalie.
Autumn hadn’t saved her after all.
“Please be wrong…” The Doctor stood in the middle of the crowd of late-night shoppers with his fingers crossed. “Please be wrong… please be wrong.”
Then, a crash.
What sounded like a hundred windows smashed. People turned and screamed. Others ducked, on instinct. People were stepping out of the windows. But they weren’t people. They were…
It took a minute to realise. They were so real, so perfect. Their movements were just slightly robotic and that gave them away. Otherwise, the only way of telling would have been how perfect they were. How well-defined their bodies were. How beautiful their made-up faces were.
“I knew I recognised the signal,” repeated the Doctor. “I knew I recognised it.”
“What are they?” asked Robin.
“Nestene.”
***
“Have the dress as well.”
“No, I can’t.” Natalie pushed it away. “You’ll make me feel guilty.”
“Fair enough,” said Autumn, now well-familiarised with that particular emotion. “But only if you’re sure.” She hung the dress up.
“Sorry- oh.”
“What?”
“No, it’s nothing. I thought the mannequin was a person when I nudged into it.”
“Well…” Autumn stood next to Natalie and admired the mannequin, deliberately tanned with hair at asymmetrical angles. The top half of its raised hand dropped, startling both the young women.
“Oh, God.” Natalie put her hand to her heart for a second. “Frightened the life out of me… huh, look at that.” She examined the hand closely. “What is it?”
“That’s…”
That was when it hit Autumn. She jumped forward, pulling Natalie away and onto the floor. Shoppers screamed. There was a loud crashing sound from outside.
“That was close,” whispered Autumn, getting up. She raised her hands and studied them momentarily. There was blood, but she hadn’t hurt herself. She looked at where she’d lifted her hands from – Natalie.
The mannequin had shot Natalie.
Autumn hadn’t saved her after all.
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NEXT TIMEMaterial Values
With UNIT's help, the Doctor sets out to fight back the Nestene. But with Tommy trapped and Natalie dying, this time it's not just the Earth in danger, but his own friends. Will they all make it out alive - and where will they go after? 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 |