Doctor Who

by Jenny T. Colgan

  She had nearly made it back to the blue box when it dematerialised. She stared upwards; but all she could see was the dark vastness of the Sycorax ship, blotting out the sun, and Jackie screamed the name of her only child to the frozen air.

  15

  A Spaceman Came Travelling

  The TARDIS scanner hadn’t turned itself on, but it was beeping.

  ‘What’s that?’ Mickey looked uneasy. ‘Maybe it’s a distress signal.’

  ‘Fat lot of good that’s going to do,’ said Rose.

  ‘Are you going to be this much of a misery all the time?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rose.

  Mickey sighed and tried to lighten the mood. ‘You should look at it from my point of view, stuck in here with your mum’s cooking.’

  Rose glanced around. ‘Where is she?’ It struck her suddenly that she shouldn’t have let her mother leave, and she jumped to her feet. ‘I’d better go and give her a hand; it might start raining missiles out there.’

  Mickey smiled. ‘Tell her anything from a tin is fine.’

  ‘Why don’t you tell her yourself?’

  ‘I’m not that brave,’ said Mickey.

  Rose looked at her old boyfriend, this decent man she knew had lost so many of his own hopes and dreams. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said softly, and opened the door, as Mickey smiled back at her.

  Then Rose was grabbed around the arm by a huge, horned hand, and screamed.

  ‘Rose!’ Mickey leapt up, knocking over the flask of tea onto the grille by the Doctor’s head.

  Rose was screaming, ‘GET OFF! GET OFF ME!’

  Without hesitation, Mickey ran after her. Bathed in blood-red light, skin prickling in sudden, swampy heat, he realised the police box had moved. Now he stood in the vast chamber of an alien ship, surrounded by the monsters he’d seen on television.

  And now Rose was screaming at him. ‘Close the door! Close the door!’

  Just in time he wheeled back and pulled the TARDIS door closed.

  Rose was struggling in the grip of an alien. Another grabbed Mickey’s shoulders before he could take a second step, as the Leader screeched a war cry of glee, and the onlookers cheered and stamped their feet in triumph.

  Inside the TARDIS the tea began to drip, drip drip onto the console room lights, and the hot lights started to steam.

  As the steam rose, the Doctor’s mouth opened. He took a deep breath, and when he released it, his thin lips sparkled as the gold energy streamed from his mouth.

  ‘GLASSHEEVEN,’ barked the Sycorax Leader, and the humans were roughly herded together.

  Harriet saw her first. Rose!

  Rose was here! And if Rose was here… he must be here too…

  Relief cascaded through Harriet like a waterfall and she was close to tears as she pulled Rose into her arms and hugged her tight. ‘I’ve got you! I’ve got you! Oh my Lord, you precious thing.’

  She held her close, whispering, ‘Where’s the Doctor? is he with you?’

  ‘No,’ Rose whispered shakily. ‘We’re all on our own.’

  Inside Harriet, the waterfall froze, in a second, to solid ice.

  The Sycorax army regarded her balefully.

  Inside the TARDIS, with aching slowness, the very last of the tea fell onto the hot lights; the very last of the steam coiled upwards; the very last drops lingering over the Doctor.

  The Sycorax Leader was even more terrifying up close. He pointed straight at Rose and screamed at her. Alex stumbled forward to translate.

  ‘“The yellow girl. She has the clever blue box. Therefore she speaks for your planet.”’

  ‘But she can’t!!’ said Harriet in anguish.

  Rose hadn’t taken her eyes off the Leader. She knew there was no one else who could do this; who’d seen the things she’d seen.

  She wasn’t the Doctor. But she was the closest thing the Earth was going to get.

  ‘Yeah, I can do this,’ she whispered.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ said Mickey.

  ‘Somebody’s got to be the Doctor.’

  Harriet grabbed her arm, terrified. ‘They’ll kill you.’

  ‘Never stopped him.’

  Rose took more steps towards the Sycorax Leader. There was excitement in the air now; the watching hordes were muttering excitedly. Now she could see more clearly, Rose noted just how many there were. She swallowed.

  Well, here goes nothing.

  Rose cleared her throat, a tiny sound in the silent amphitheatre. ‘I, um… I address the Sycorax according to… Article 15 of the Shadow Proclamation.’ Her voice was shaking. ‘I command you to leave this world with all the authority of the Slitheen Parliament of Raxacoricofallapatorius, and um… the Gelth Confederacy…’

  The Sycorax leader stared at her, fascinated, but Rose continued defiantly. ‘As, uh… sanctioned… by the Mighty Jagrafess… and… Oh, the Daleks! Now, leave this planet in peace! In peace…’

  The Leader couldn’t take his eyes off her. There were a few seconds of stunned silence, and then, slowly, he grunted and started to shake. The others did the same. And then it became clear: they were laughing. The entire citadel of Sycorax laughed; roared, hooted like animals.

  Rose’s heart plunged. They knew. Of course they knew how ridiculous she as was being, how powerless she was.

  ‘SOO GAN, GAN PRACTEEL.’

  Loyal Alex stood, trembling. ‘“You are very, very funny.”’

  ‘SOO GAL CHACK CHIFF.’

  ‘“And now you are going to die.”’

  The Sycorax Leader took his whip in his hand.

  Harriet and Mickey lunged forward at the same time. ‘Leave her alone!’ Harriet shouted.

  ‘Don’t touch her!’ Mickey’s voice cracked as he started forward, but like Harriet he had been seized by the huge, hideous guards, as the Sycorax Leader kept his attention on Rose, circling her slowly. She stood like a statue, pale as ice.

  ‘SOO TASS GILFANE?’

  ‘“Did you think you were clever?”’ Alex translated, dully.

  ‘MET SOO VOL STAPEEN?’

  ‘“With your stolen words?”’

  ‘CODRAFEE PEL VASH…’

  ‘“We have travelled in the wastelands…”’

  ‘CODRAFEE NON PASSIC PEL HADAR TOC TANE BRENDISSA!’

  ‘“We care nothing for your”—uhm—“tiny legislation of land-bound species!”’

  ‘CODRAFEE SYCORA!’

  ‘“We are Sycorax.”’

  ‘CODRAFEE GASSAC TEL DASHFELLIK!’

  ‘“We bestride the darkness.”’

  Mickey was not listening, just staring, helpless. Desperate. ‘Please don’t hurt Rose. Please…’

  But the leader stepped closer; enjoying every moment of Rose’s fear; flexing his whip. She took a step backwards; back towards the safety of the TARDIS now denied her. He went on; inexorably continued. Alex’s kept his eyes on the translator; even as he had to bear witness; was compelled to speak.

  ‘CORAFEE PEL SAT COS JISAAAN. ORD STOLTO GAVI CONASTROFAAA.’

  ‘“We practise the forbidden arts. The lost rites of Astrophia.”’

  ‘BEC CODRAKONE, SOO FEL NAS CHAFEEN.’

  ‘“Next to us, you are but a wailing child.”’

  ‘IF SO FALFASS YOUR PLANET CASTREEK AS CHAMPION!’

  ‘“If you are the best your planet can offer as a champion.”’

  ‘THEN YOUR WORLD WILL BE GUTTED, FEL YOUR PEOPLE ENSLAVED.’

  ‘“Then your world will be gutted, and your people ensla—” Hold on.’ Alex was staring at his screen like it had just exploded. ‘That’s English.’

  The humans stared at each other in consternation, all except for Rose, of course.

  Rose knew.

  She pointed at the Sycorax Leader in barely contained glee. ‘You’re talking English!’

  ‘I WOULD NEVER DIRTY MY TONGUE WITH YOUR PRIMITIVE BILE!’

  ‘But that’s English!’ Rose continued to back, subtly, towards the TARDIS. ‘Can you hear
English?’ she shouted to the others.

  ‘That’s English!’ agreed Mickey delighted.

  Harriet nodded. ‘Definitely English,’ said Alex.

  The Sycorax Leader was incensed. ‘I SPEAK ONLY SYCORAXIC!’

  ‘But if I can hear English…’ said Rose, steeling herself to dare to speak aloud the news she could barely believe, ‘then it’s being translated. Which means the TARDIS is working. Which means…’

  And she turned around slowly, trembling; hardly daring to hope.

  Mickey and Harriet turned around too. And suddenly, the TARDIS doors swung open to reveal a figure—no, not a figure, Rose realised, finally. Not another person; not a man, not a succubus, or an apparition. For the first time she believed it inside, heart and soul.

  The Doctor.

  The Doctor was there, standing in the TARDIS doorway, still wearing those ridiculous pyjamas, a vast, slightly unhinged grin plastered across his face.

  ‘Did you miss me?’ he said loudly.

  16

  I Wonder as I Wander

  Missed you? thought Rose. Right down to my bones. And she grinned with utter delight, even in the perilous situation they were in, surrounded by the enemy, five miles above the Earth.

  The Doctor stepped forward, the TARDIS doors slamming shut behind him.

  The Sycorax Leader immediately roared in fury and lashed out his whip at the Doctor who, without missing a beat, grabbed the end. It had absolutely no effect on him. He tore it out of the leader’s hand.

  ‘Careful,’ he said. ‘You could have someone’s eye out with that.’

  The Sycorax Leader roared once more and ran at the Doctor with his huge wooden staff, but the Doctor grabbed it and snapped it over his knee like it was a matchstick. ‘You just can’t get the staff,’ he said, and Rose winced, as she always did when the Doctor told one of his terrible jokes.

  ‘Now, you…’ The Doctor extended a long finger and pointed it ominously at the Sycorax Leader. ‘You wait. I’m busy.’

  Such was the authority in the Doctor’s voice that the Sycorax leader did as he was told. The Sycorax holding the others stepped back too, uncertain, biding their time as the Doctor roamed the huge floorspace as if perfectly happy to be there. Rose stared at him, amazed.

  ‘Nice place,’ he said. ‘Roomy. Bit dark. Must cost a fortune, heating this place.’

  He approached the others.

  ‘Mickey! Hello! And Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North! Blimey, it’s like This Is Your Life!’

  He turned to Rose, who had an eyebrow raised.

  ‘Tea!’ he proclaimed. ‘That’s all I needed. A good cup of tea! A superheated infusion of free radicals and tannin. Just the thing for healing the synapses, whose idea was that, a cup of tea?’

  ‘That was my mother,’ said Rose.

  ‘And why can I taste shampoo?’

  ‘That… was also my mother.’

  ‘Could be worse, she could be here.’ With a glance round at the Sycorax to be sure they were still behaving, the Doctor went up to her and lowered his voice.

  ‘First things first. Now, be honest this time. How do I look?’

  ‘Um. Different,’ said Rose.

  ‘Good different or bad different?’

  Rose was absolutely not going to get into this conversation right now. She didn’t want to discuss how different. How much younger. How much…

  ‘Just… different,’ she said.

  ‘Am I ginger?’

  Rose glanced at him to see if he was serious. He appeared to be. ‘No, you’re just kind of brown.’

  ‘Aww, I wanted to be ginger. I’ve never been ginger.’

  His mood changed suddenly, and he pointed straight at her.

  ‘And you, Rose Tyler, fat lot of good you were, you gave up on me.’ He stopped suddenly. ‘Oh, that’s rude. Is that the sort of man I am now, am I? Rude.’ He pondered this a little further. ‘Rude and not ginger.’

  Harriet interjected. ‘I’m sorry, but who is this?’

  ‘I’m the Doctor.’

  ‘He’s the Doctor,’ said Rose, tentatively.

  ‘He is, he’s the Doctor,’ added Mickey with just a hint of resignation.

  ‘But what happened to my Doctor?’ said Harriet, bemused. ‘Is it a title that’s just passed on?’

  The Doctor walked towards her, right up close to her face. ‘I’m him. I’m literally him. Same man, new face, well… New everything.’

  Harriet looked more confused than ever.

  ‘But you can’t be.’

  He didn’t take his eyes off her. ‘Harriet Jones. We were trapped in Downing Street, and the one thing that scared you wasn’t the aliens… wasn’t the war… it was the thought of your mother being on her own.’

  Harriet blinked several times. ‘Oh my God.’

  ‘Did you win the election?’ The Doctor beamed.

  Harriet smiled back, pleased. ‘Landslide majority.’

  ‘Oh, fantast—no. Hold on. Fantas. Fanta. Fantazz.’ He wandered off. ‘Can’t say it any more, doesn’t fit the teeth. Ohh, I liked that word, what am I going to say now? “Brilliant”? Brilliant, brill-ee-ant, briiiiilliant. No. Um. “Excellent”? “Oh, that’s excellent!” Naaa. “Superb!”? “Marvellous!” “Molto bene!” Oh, I don’t know. Let’s just settle for “very, very good”. “That’s very, very good. Yes that’s really very, very good.” Not taking off, is it?’

  The roar came from behind them. ‘IF I MIGHT INTERRUPT?’ roared the Sycorax Leader.

  The Doctor spun around. ‘Yes! Sorry! Hello, big fella!’ He could see the trepidation of the unknown in the creature’s eyes was giving way to a cold, face-saving rage.

  ‘WHO EXACTLY ARE YOU?’

  ‘Well,’ said the Doctor, grinning. ‘That’s the question. Nice ship, by the way, sturdy, good gravity, kind of rocky—’

  ‘I DEMAND TO KNOW WHO YOU ARE!’

  ‘I don’t know!’ the Doctor roared back, and Rose looked at him; recognised something else besides that dangerous smile: anger. The same anger the Doctor always denied he even felt.

  The Doctor carried on.

  ‘See, there’s the thing. I’m the Doctor, but beyond that, I… I just don’t know. I literally do not know who I am. It’s all untested. Am I funny? Am I sarcastic?’ He winked at Rose. ‘Sexy?’

  Rose bit her lip and grinned nervously, really wishing he hadn’t looked at her when he’d said that, but he was barrelling onwards.

  ‘A right old misery? Life and soul? Right-handed? Left-handed? A gambler? A fighter? A coward? A traitor? A liar? A nervous wreck? I mean, judging by the evidence, I’ve certainly got a gob.’ Suddenly, he caught sight of the red switch on top of the dais. His face lit up. ‘And how am I going to react when I see this? A great big threatening button?’

  He ran towards it, and Rose was both reassured and concerned to notice that he was laughing.

  ‘A Great Big Threatening Button Which Must Not Be Pressed Under Any Circumstances—am I right? Let me guess, it’s some sort of control matrix? Hmm? Hold on, what’s feeding it?’ The Doctor bent down and pulled open a small cupboard beneath the button. Inside was a tank bubbling with thick red liquid. ‘And what’ve we got here? Blood?’

  Rose knew he was going to taste it before he did so. Oh God, how could she ever have doubted he was the same, infuriating, unpredictable Doctor.

  ‘Yeah. Definitely. Blood. Human Blood. A positive. Now I can taste blood and shampoo. Bleargh. But if you’ve got a matrix dipped into that…’ He made a face as if he found it disgusting, which was, Rose supposed, a blessing of sorts, and wiped his dirty finger on his dressing gown. Then he slapped his own head. ‘Ahh! But that means… blood control. Blood control! Oh, I haven’t seen blood control for years! You’re controlling all the A positives!’

  Rose wasn’t sure, but she thought the Sycorax Leader looked slightly deflated. The Doctor looked more energised than ever.

  ‘Which leaves us with a great big stinking problem.’Cos I really do
n’t know who I am. I don’t know when to stop. So if I see a Great Big Threatening Button Which Should Never Ever EVER Be Pressed… then I just wanna do this.’

  And before anyone had the chance to stop him, he banged his hand down hard on the button.

  17

  Ding Dong! Merrily on High

  Everyone on top of the walls, all over the world, took one step forward. Until they were on the very tips of their feet, right on the edge, and the two-thirds of the world held its breath, or screamed, or panicked; or, like Matthew Nicholson, who had finally found a lift to take him to the roof, found himself with his arms hooked around his friend Duerte in such a precarious way that meant that if one fell, they were both going over.

  And the A positives raised their feet to take the final, crucial steps—whereupon the blue webs of light blinked—wavered—

  And disappeared.

  There was a great collective stomp of flesh and leather on concrete as the zombies awoke and took sudden, staggering steps back from the edge. Duerte fell, extremely confused, into Matthew’s lap, and two went rolling backwards, Matthew yelling with joy.

  At the Powell Estate, Sandra screamed for the hundredth time at her boyfriend Jason, ‘GET AWAY FROM THE EDGE!’

  It was not just Jason, but half the estate up there that heard her—and they took it as an instant instruction; and turned round, shook themselves, confused, as if they didn’t know where they were.

  ‘What the bloody hell am I doing up here?’ grumbled Jason. ‘How much did I have to drink last night?’

  At the Tower of London a blonde girl stared over the city, and blinked. Then she turned around. Everywhere, people were being greeted by tearful friends and partners; hugging them; holding them; desperately pleased to see them again.

  There was nobody there for her.

  She turned around; freezing cold, her mind baffled—why had she been so convinced all she wanted to do was stand on a roof? What had happened? She had had specialist training against this kind of thing, and it hadn’t worked at all.