The Day She Saved the Doctor

by Susan Calman

  ‘Deity TV,’ murmured Sarah.

  Orbiana went on. ‘But, once the gods have seen through our eyes, it would be blasphemous for us to look through them again. So they took my sight away from me, but left me the gift of the memories of others.’

  Sarah was working this out in her head as Orbiana spoke. These visitors must have been aliens of some sort. A female-dominant race, perhaps? That would explain why they had targeted this temple, rather than the more obvious seats of power, and had come to Orbiana, who was presumably in charge.

  The machine must be some sort of memory-harvester, Sarah figured, her mind racing. A device that reads minds in some way and can record what it finds there – but for what? Exploration purposes? Simple knowledge gathering? Military intelligence? And it appeared to have the side-effect of leaving its subjects sightless. Damage to the optic nerve during the process, perhaps? But what about ‘the gift of the memories of others’ that Orbiana spoke of?

  ‘What does that mean?’ Sarah asked the priestess. ‘Can you access other recordings made by the machine? I mean, can you see other visions that the gods have stored?’

  Orbiana nodded, a rapturous expression spreading across her face. ‘That is so,’ she said. ‘Oh, the things I have seen! The paths trodden by the gods! Truly, I have been blessed!’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Sarah suddenly. ‘The women I’ve met, the other ones who’ve gone blind, they didn’t seem to have been blessed. They didn’t know anything about seeing the paths trodden by the gods. In fact, they didn’t seem to know what had happened to them at all.’

  Orbiana’s cheeks flushed, but it was Marcia who answered. ‘They were not servants of the gods as my sister is,’ she said defensively. ‘Why should they share her blessing?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think that’s the whole story,’ Sarah said. ‘Would you like to explain to me how they got their memories wiped, but your sister here didn’t?’ Another question leapt into her head, one she kicked herself for not asking earlier. ‘Actually, there’s something else I want to know. Where are these aliens now?’

  The two women looked puzzled.

  Sarah sighed. ‘The gods. Where are the gods now?’

  Orbiana bent her head piously. ‘The gods returned from whence they came.’

  ‘Leaving their big, important machine behind, with all its big, important data?’

  ‘They had a task for me to complete.’

  ‘What task?’

  ‘To gather more memories, to create a record of our time for them, which they would return to collect. A glorious task.’ Her face shone. ‘And such a boon to me, as I may so rarely leave our temple. To share the memories of others and see life as I have never seen it before! All of the temple can share in the life of the Empire, at last!’

  Sarah saw Marcia’s expression, and she understood. ‘And by a strange coincidence, the first few memories you harvested were from the heads of merchants’ wives, rooting out little nuggets of business information.’ She looked at Marcia with disdain. ‘The aliens didn’t leave you with a task. Entrust their machine to primitives? I don’t think so. They died – or did you kill them? – and you decided to turn it to your advantage.’

  Orbiana was struggling to take all this in. Her head turned from side to side, seeking her sister. ‘Marcia? What does she mean? You told me the gods had left us after entrusting me with their task.’

  ‘I expect they died,’ Sarah went on, still addressing Marcia. ‘I don’t know if even you would have the courage to murder a god. I suspect they usually erased their subjects’ memories, but they died before they could do that to Orbiana. Did they tell you how the machine worked?’

  Marcia snorted. She didn’t seem ashamed or embarrassed, just irritated at the inconvenience of it all. ‘I visited my sister and found her as you see her now, but sleeping. Those creatures were not gods – how could they be gods?! They were dying from a disease they had caught from one of the sick within these walls, a disease they said was unknown to them. As Orbiana slept, one of the creatures told me how their device worked, begged me to use it to take the knowledge of what they had done to my sister from her mind, then to destroy it.’ She shrugged. ‘Then the creature died.’

  ‘And you didn’t carry out its wishes? I don’t blame you for that bit.’ Sarah stared at Marcia, her face hard. ‘I do blame you for what you did to those women, though. How could you?’

  Marcia flung up her hands. ‘You ask me that? You, a woman, ask me that? I have intelligence, I have imagination, I have so many skills and gifts that my husband lacks, yet I can wield no power in this world of ours! I dream of a world such as those creatures came from, a world where the female is acknowledged as superior, yet in Rome the best I can hope for is to gain influence by persuading Pumidius to do this or do that. And he is a stupid man – so stupid! To be tied to him, to be told to run the household, to amuse myself with wine and honey cakes, while he fumbles his way through feeble business deals …’

  ‘But how does sniffing out a few business tricks help you?’

  ‘It will not give me power – not power of my own – but, if I can give Pumidius more wealth, more influence, elevate him to a higher place in society, then I will rise too, through him. Can you blame me for grabbing such a chance with both hands? A chance that not one in a thousand women has been granted?’

  When she heard it put like that, Sarah could understand where Marcia was coming from – even though she couldn’t excuse her actions. Inequalities certainly existed in modern-day England, where Sarah came from, but it wasn’t a patch on Ancient Rome. And, given that women here had so few rights, what could they possibly do about it? Ancient Roman suffragettes throwing themselves under the Emperor’s horse would probably find themselves and their families thrown to the lions instead.

  ‘How do you feel about that?’ Sarah turned to Orbiana. ‘Knowing your sister here’s been blinding women not for some heavenly purpose but so her husband can undercut others’ trade deals, or steal their suppliers, or whatever? Not all that spiritual, you have to agree. This machine must be destroyed.’

  Orbiana’s indecision showed on her face, different emotions registering fleetingly, before settling on a determined expression. ‘No. This device will not be destroyed. No one will take it away from me. I have already lost my eyes. You will not take the sights that the gods have given me in exchange.’

  Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but before she could do so a young woman also in white robes hurried in. She curtseyed before Orbiana, then almost screeched, ‘A man! A man in the temple!’

  ‘A man?’

  ‘A stranger. Strange in face, garments and manner.’

  Well, I think I can guess who that is, Sarah thought.

  ‘Has he been apprehended?’ demanded Marcia.

  ‘He has.’

  ‘Then take him to the inner sanctum,’ said Orbiana.

  Sarah realised that the three women’s attention was focused away from her. She had to make another attempt to escape. Praying that she had now recovered from the poison, she got up slowly and quietly, and slipped out of the room’s second door. As she was closing it, Marcia spotted her and started to run towards her. To her delight, Sarah found a key in the lock on the other side of the door. Thud! She slammed the door and locked it in the nick of time.

  Sarah pulled her white wool cloak over her hair. She was thankful that it was similar to what many of the women in the temple wore; unless someone looked closely, they wouldn’t realise she didn’t belong here.

  With no idea where the inner sanctum was (or the exit, either, for that matter – but she wasn’t about to desert the Doctor), she began to explore. A turn to the right, a turn to the left, up a stairway. In the distance she heard cries: the high voices of women, answered by a deep bass rumble. She couldn’t make out any words, but she instantly knew that was where she must head.

  As she got closer to the voices, she noticed other white-clad women going in the same direction, and she silently joined
the back of a group of them. They soon entered a large chamber. On a raised platform in the centre of the room, the Doctor was tied to a wooden chair, priestesses flanking him with their daggers held high. Sarah was pretty sure they didn’t practise human sacrifice in Ancient Rome – she hoped very much that she wasn’t mistaken – but whatever was going on didn’t look good for the Doctor.

  Orbiana was being helped on to the platform by a young priestess. ‘Stranger,’ she said to the Doctor, ‘you have defiled our temple. Do you plead ignorance of our law?’

  The Doctor waved a hand, smiling ruefully. ‘It’s not so much a plea as a way of life.’

  ‘He knows our law.’ The young girl from the gate stepped forward. ‘I informed him but a short time ago that no male was allowed inside, not even into the precincts.’

  ‘Then he has no excuse,’ said Orbiana. ‘Fetch the vipers.’

  As Sarah watched in horror, two priestesses moved on to the platform and each picked up a tall amphora. Out of the necks of the jars poked snakes’ heads, some pale pink, some dark brown, all with massive yellow eyes and darting tongues. Sarah thrust her fist into her mouth to stop herself from gasping audibly.

  ‘The goddess will judge you,’ announced Orbiana. ‘If she favours you, the bite of the snake will give you only pain. If you are condemned, the venom will be deadly. I have never known the goddess to favour any man. Release the vipers!’

  ‘No!’ Before Sarah realised what she was doing, she found herself striding towards the platform. ‘Let him go,’ she said to Orbiana. ‘He is a good man. He only forced his way in here so he could find me.’

  ‘A typical man,’ sneered Marcia. ‘He assumes no woman can cope without him.’

  ‘Er, actually,’ began the Doctor in his most deferential voice, ‘I’m sorry to contradict you, being a man and so forth, but I have every faith in Sarah. It’s the rest of you I’m not so sure of.’

  ‘Child, he came here knowing that men are not permitted,’ Orbiana said to Sarah. ‘Our temple is contaminated, and only his punishment will cleanse it.’

  ‘Please,’ Sarah said, trying not to look at the writhing snakes’ heads below her. The vipers were clearly desperate to be set loose. ‘Please, let him go. If you free the Doctor –’ she took a very deep breath – ‘if you free him, I will give you my memories.’

  Orbiana seemed surprised. ‘But I do not need your memories. We have all those that the gods collected.’

  ‘Oh, you won’t have any like mine. You see, mine include the Doctor. And you have never met anyone like the Doctor.’

  Orbiana appeared to consider this. ‘You would do this?’ she said. ‘You would give your sight for his life?’

  ‘If you could see my memories, you’d understand.’

  The Doctor jumped to his feet, bringing the chair up with him. ‘No one is giving up their sight for me!’

  But Marcia had clearly had enough. ‘Release the vipers!’ she cried.

  Yet this time, Orbiana turned on her sister, a stern expression on her face. ‘You forget your place. You have no rights in this holy sanctum. Save your cares for the world outside.’ She turned her unseeing eyes towards the crowd of priestesses. ‘The ceremony is postponed. You may leave us now. I wish to see the memories of this young lady, and her so-called Doctor. Then I shall decide their fate.’

  As the priestesses filed out, Sarah untied the Doctor’s bonds, keeping a wary eye on the two abandoned amphorae. Frustrated hisses and slithery sounds came from within. She shuddered.

  As Orbiana and a fuming Marcia led Sarah and the Doctor to the room where the machine was kept, Sarah told the Doctor what she believed had happened. He nodded thoughtfully in reply.

  As soon as they entered the room, the Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver and bolted straight for the great machine.

  ‘What is you doing?’ cried Marcia.

  ‘Sorting out this mess!’ replied the Doctor.

  Tears suddenly welled up in Orbiana’s white eyes, as she realised what the Doctor was about to do. ‘Don’t destroy it, I beg you. It has opened up the world to me!’

  The Doctor opened a panel on the side of the machine and began to root around inside. ‘I’m not destroying it. I’m fixing it. You’re not blinding anyone again, ever.’

  Within a few short seconds, the machine was emitting a new, ethereal humming noise.

  ‘There. Done,’ he said. ‘Sarah?’

  ‘Sarah what?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘Would you care to try it?’

  ‘I’d be delighted,’ she said breezily. (She wasn’t delighted, and her breeziness was all part of the show. The Doctor wouldn’t risk her losing her sight. He wouldn’t … would he?)

  He connected Sarah with the machine and she felt a sort of tickle in her mind, a rush of memories speeding past too quickly for her to take in: a kindly woman in a scientist’s lab coat, a glimpse of a man with curly white hair, a brief ‘Exterminate!’, and, as the memories went on, a long scarf, a floppy hat and the biggest grin in the world weaving in and out of everything until her head was full of nothing but DOCTOR DOCTOR DOCTOR …

  When the recording was complete, the Doctor turned to Orbiana and handed her the memory crystal.

  ‘Now, here’s a show for you.’

  Sarah watched Orbiana’s face as snatches of her memories played inside the priestess’s head. Expressions sped across her face: excitement, apprehension, fear, relief, joy … Then tears came again to her blank eyes.

  ‘Still want to kill the Doctor?’ Sarah asked, as Orbiana put down the memory crystal at last. The priestess couldn’t speak. She just shook her head.

  ‘Sister, he is a man in your temple. He –’ began Marcia.

  ‘It is not my temple. It is the temple of the goddess, and I do not believe she would have him die in her name,’ Orbiana snapped. She went on, speaking softly, ‘He serves the gods – I have seen it in each and every one of his actions.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t claim in each and every action …’ said the Doctor, glancing up at the ceiling. ‘But think about who was with me throughout those adventures you watched. Think about who saved me time and again, just as she saved me today, willing to face her two greatest fears to ensure my freedom.’

  He turned to look at Sarah, and she glowed.

  Only, those weren’t her two greatest fears. There was one above them, one which she would willingly give up her eyes for, that she would face every snake in the world in order to prevent. The thing she feared most was being without the Doctor. Oh, she could survive without him – she’d suffered losses already in her life, and she knew she was strong enough to survive more – but what could compare to the life they had together?

  Orbiana, seemingly guided by a sixth sense, rested her milky gaze upon Sarah. ‘Perhaps once again a god has walked among us in disguise,’ she said.

  Sarah opened her mouth to contradict the priestess, but the Doctor shook his head and put a finger to his mouth.

  ‘Fear not,’ continued Orbiana. ‘I will not use this machine again.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,’ said the Doctor. ‘No more industrial espionage, perhaps, but there’s a lot more to it than that. Share the memories. Make more memories. See other people’s points of view. Let women realise that the universe is a much bigger place than it might seem to them right here, right now. And, if they ever doubt a single woman can live her own life, by her own rules and not those of her husband or other men, that she can be brave and curious and confident and clever and hard-working and loyal … well, just show them Sarah, and they’ll change their minds.’

  ‘Well, that was another fine mess you got us out of,’ said the Doctor, as he and Sarah walked back to the TARDIS.

  ‘You made me blush,’ said Sarah.

  The Doctor waved a hand dismissively. ‘Oh, I probably exaggerated.’ But he gave her a grin that said otherwise.

  ‘I hope Lucilla and the others will be all right,’ Sarah mused. ‘Being blind …’ But as she sp
oke, she realised she wasn’t so terrified of the notion any more. Why should she be? If it ever happened – well, it would just be something to deal with. There were worse things. Losing her sight wouldn’t make her a lesser person, it wouldn’t make her someone to pity – just like being born female in Ancient Rome didn’t make the women there lesser people either.

  If she lost her sight, she would still, in every possible way, be Sarah Jane Smith, time-travelling with the Doctor. And so Lucilla was still Lucilla, and the others were still themselves, and she would not patronise them by feeling pity towards them. She would merely wish them well.

  As they reached the police box, Sarah wondered aloud, ‘Was that a good idea, though? Leaving a huge piece of alien tech in Ancient Rome?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he replied airily. ‘How much of what went on in the Bona Dea cult do we know about?’

  ‘Well, practically nothing. We said that earlier … Oh. Right. Fair enough.’

  ‘After all, if we can’t trust a bunch of women with all the secrets of the universe, who can we trust?’ said the Doctor.

  Sarah smiled at him, and led the way into the TARDIS.

  Rose and the Snow Window

  BY JENNY T. COLGAN

  Rotating round the Earth is a giddying experience, particularly when you have to go slowly enough to see what you’re looking for – but fast enough to avoid being noticed by the International Space Station.

  ‘It’s all right,’ said the Doctor, concentrating fiercely as they swung by the station, causing its sensors to spin wildly. ‘I’ll send them another guitar.’

  Rose crouched next to him over the monitor, trying to see what he was staring at on the familiar blue-and-green planet below. ‘What are you looking for?’

  ‘I’ll know it when I see it.’

  ‘Well, is it, like, a mountain? A panda? Spaghetti? What?’

  ‘A puncture,’ said the Doctor, as the TARDIS screen zoomed in on the Himalayas, the monitor’s picture sharp enough for them to spot the mountain climbers in their bright jackets.