by Jacqueline Rayner, Mike Tucker, Paul Magrs, et al (retail) (epub)
‘All we need to do is give it a target.’ The Doctor smiled, taking up a seat next to Nathan. ‘Mr Gough, I’d like you to paint my portrait, if you’d be so kind?’
‘I … I’m sorry?’ Nathan stammered. ‘You’d like me to do what?’
‘I know how it sounds, but trust me, I know what I’m doing.’ The Doctor removed his hat and struck a pose. ‘Remember, it needn’t be perfect. Just enough of a likeness that it can force a link through me.’
‘If you’re certain?’
‘Absolutely.’ The Doctor nodded.
Ace watched as Nathan frantically mixed together oils on his palette, sweeping vague shapes of colour across the canvas. Within seconds, the image of his mother had all but gone, replaced instead by the indistinct face of the Doctor.
Quickly, Nathan worked up detail – the sharp, steely eyes, the furrowed brow – and the Doctor felt his senses slipping away from him. He could just about make out Ace, encouraging Nathan as he worked. Then silence fell, and the Doctor realised he was not in his own dimension …
He had travelled across to the creature’s realm and found himself surrounded by a host of fierce intelligences. Now, their minds were linked. Their thoughts were inside his thoughts; he could see what they saw, feel exactly what they felt … and he became aware of their intentions should they ever arrive on Earth. He knew in that moment what they would choose to do to the human race: things that must never be allowed to happen. So the Doctor made them an offer.
‘I know you can hear me,’ he yelled, his voice echoing through the void between dimensions. ‘Our minds are linked, which means you must already know who I am.’
The creature’s voice lashed out. ‘YOU CALL YOURSELF “DOCTOR”!’ it growled.
‘Yes, and I’m here to make you an offer.’
A ripple of mocking laughter swirled around him.
‘Right now, you’re trying to break into our reality through a painting. You’re harnessing a young man’s talent, using all his energy and emotion, to feed your own ghastly ends. I can feel you trying to force access, using me and my image as the bridge.’
‘IT WORKED BEFORE. IT SHALL WORK AGAIN!’
‘I’m allowing you the chance to walk away,’ the Doctor said. ‘You don’t need Earth. You don’t even need our dimension. You have the entire Vortex at your disposal: the fourth and fifth dimensions of space and time!’
‘THESE DIMENSIONS ARE INSUBSTANTIAL!’ raged the creature. ‘WE SEEK PHYSICAL FORM!’
‘Then I’m sorry for you, because I cannot allow that to happen.’ The Doctor sighed. ‘I really did hope you might change your mind when you realised what you were up against. Believe me when I tell you that I’m sorry.’
Suddenly the entity started to struggle to contain the Doctor’s will. The more it fought to maintain control, the less it had.
‘I’m a Time Lord,’ the Doctor explained with a voice of quiet steel. ‘I’m afraid I don’t age like human beings. In fact, I barely age at all. Even when I die, my image changes completely. So, you see, there’s nothing for you to exploit here; no abstract differential between the me I am right now and the me I might one day become. Meaning you’re trapped inside my mind. There’s no way out for you.’
The creature tried to move, but found it couldn’t. It was like an insect caught in amber. In fact, it could scarcely think.
‘Luckily for me, a Time Lord’s mind is more than enough to contain a feeble little being like you,’ the Doctor continued cheerily. ‘I’m afraid there’s probably a fair bit of clutter in there – my apologies – but I’m certain you’ll soon make yourself at home there, given time.’
The entity didn’t respond. It couldn’t respond. All of its power had been lost through the Doctor’s image.
In that moment, it knew this was the end. It tried to scream, but it couldn’t.
At that very same instant, back in Nathan’s studio, just as the artist completed his final brushstroke, the Doctor groggily returned to his senses. He breathed a great sigh of relief and patted Nathan gently on the shoulder.
‘Excellent work, Mr Gough.’ He smiled, hiding his exhaustion. ‘The painting’s not bad either. Now, I don’t suppose you’d happen to have a kettle?’
Half an hour later, having said their farewells and indulged in a pot of restorative Earl Grey, the Doctor and Ace were back on the night-time streets of London, heading in the direction of the TARDIS. The rain had finally stopped, the clouds had parted and, even though there was still a heavy fog, suddenly all seemed calm.
‘Is that it, then?’ Ace asked chirpily, skimming stones into the Thames. She waited for each satisfying plop before throwing another.
‘For now, yes,’ said the Doctor, thinking it over. ‘But others like it are still out there. They always will be. That’s how the universe works.’
‘But they can’t break through, yeah? Not like that, I mean. Not again.’
‘I might have deterred them for a while, but when has that ever stopped anything? I’m sure one of them will try again at some point. All they need is an image, after all. It doesn’t even have to be a painting. It could be a simple sketch, a Polaroid, a selfie –’
‘A what-now?’
‘Never mind.’ The Doctor chuckled, taking Ace’s arm in his. ‘Come on. Let’s get back to the TARDIS.’
Marie hadn’t been singing on cruise ships for long, but she already knew that some very strange things could happen at sea.
It all began on the day they fished Miss X out of the Mediterranean.
‘What’s all the fuss about?’ asked a man on a sun lounger who was wearing a striped Edwardian swimming costume and a huge fluffy robe. As he spoke, he stared at her over his sunglasses.
‘Hm?’ Marie hated tearing herself away from the drama, but she was already late for the afternoon show. She was performing twice daily in the theatre and she couldn’t afford to be late again.
‘Have I missed something exciting?’ he asked her.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, flustered. ‘It’s all been happening down on Deck Six. On the starboard side. Hang on, is that right? Or was it the port side? I should know, really. I’m part of the crew. I’ve done the safety training and everything … Anyway, down there on the left.’
The stranger sat up in his sun lounger. ‘Is there an emergency?’ He started at once to gather up his belongings: his towel, his milkshake, his science-fiction paperback. ‘I never heard an announcement over the tannoy.’
‘Oh no, it’s nothing like that. Not an emergency. They just had to fish someone out of the sea.’
The man took off his sunglasses. He had chestnut curls and his eyes were extremely blue. ‘Someone fell overboard?’
‘Well, no, as it turns out,’ Marie said. ‘She wasn’t even a passenger on this ship. She was just bobbing about in the sea, on her own, in the middle of the day.’
‘How extraordinary,’ said the man softly. ‘Is she all right?’
‘Oh, yes. She wasn’t in any distress or anything. I saw her first. I was looking out for the coast of Italy and next thing there she was. Rather smartly dressed. Over-dressed, really, for the weather.’
The man frowned. ‘Tell me, Marie – it is Marie, isn’t it?’
She blinked. ‘Er, yes.’ How did he know her name?
‘Where do you think this lady came from?’
Marie felt dazed. Perhaps she had been staring at the spangling silver of the sea for too long. That’s what she’d thought when she had first seen the floating lady: I must be hallucinating … or have seasickness. But then the old lady had waved and Marie had started calling for help.
Right now, she was feeling dizzy again, as the man quizzed her.
‘I’ve been trying to figure it all out,’ she told him.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I can tell you enjoy mysteries, and this sounds like a good one. The Mysterious Miss X of the Mediterranean.’
‘Perhaps she fell off another cruise ship?’
‘It’s possi
ble. We could check that out. There’ll be a timetable somewhere. Captain Letts will know. Shipping lanes and all that. Also, we could probably ask someone to have a look at the radar and see what other vessels are nearby. Yes, perhaps I’ll go and do that right now …’
He started walking away, clutching his things and chewing on the end of his milkshake straw. Marie hurried after him. ‘Are you a detective?’
‘Not really. I’m the Doctor. Usually I’m the sort of person who is right at the heart of very strange and unusual events, only this time you were that person. I was napping on a sun lounger some twenty yards away. But you can help me now if you like?’
Suddenly she remembered where she was supposed to be. ‘I’m meant to be performing in The Sounds of the Seventies right now!’ With that she dashed off in the direction of the lifts.
‘I’ll see you later, then,’ murmured the Doctor, and he headed off to confer with the captain of the W. H. Allen.
Marie saw the Doctor again later that night in the bar on Deck Ten. He was talking with another passenger: a spry old gentleman in a military blazer who was drinking a whisky and soda. The Doctor was sipping ginger pop through a curly straw.
‘Doesn’t surprise me that the captain’s not very helpful,’ the older man was saying. ‘Surly-looking chap. But I shouldn’t worry. I’m sure there’s a perfectly simple explanation.’
The Doctor smiled. ‘That’s hardly ever true. Haven’t you noticed that?’
The man in the blazer went on, ‘I haven’t actually clapped eyes on the lady in question. Have you?’
‘No,’ said the Doctor, noisily finishing off his pop. ‘That’s my next port of call, as it were.’
‘I gather she’s been in the sickbay all afternoon. Getting a check-up and whatnot. Touch of amnesia, from what I hear. It’s a wonder she’s still alive. I’m not sure I’d be up to a swim in the briny at my age.’
‘Quite,’ said the Doctor. ‘Though I’m sure you found yourself in much more dangerous situations in your former career, eh, Colonel Hulke?’
‘What do you know about my former career, sir?’ said the old man sharply.
The Doctor feigned innocence. ‘Oh, you look like the kind of fellow who’s been in a scrape or two.’
The elderly gent seemed rather cross now, and he glared at the Doctor.
Marie, too, was staring at the Doctor. She was impressed by his evening wear, which included a raffish green velvet coat and a silver cravat, even though it was as warm now as it had been all day.
She caught him as he left the bar. ‘I was ear-wigging.’
‘Oho!’ He smiled. ‘That pompous old spy is pretending he wasn’t in MI5. Well, never mind. How was your cabaret show?’ He eyed her Abba-inspired catsuit.
‘It was okay,’ she said. ‘Was he really a spy?’ She was keen to keep up with shipboard gossip, and having a genuine retired secret agent in their midst was a novelty. ‘What does he know about our Miss X?’
‘Only that she’s forgotten her name and that she’s in the sickbay.’
‘How very convenient.’
‘I thought so too,’ said the Doctor. ‘Your curiosity is just as piqued as mine, isn’t it?’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘There’s something fishy going on here. Who is she? And what was she doing in the sea?’
‘I’d like to know that too,’ agreed the Doctor.
‘Why don’t you pretend to have a funny turn?’ she suggested. ‘Right now.’
‘What? Oh, yes! All right.’ He started moaning theatrically and clutched at himself as if he was in horrible pain. He kept up the amateur dramatics all the way to the sickbay, where the ship’s Doctor Marter gave him a cursory once-over and frowned at Marie. ‘He’ll have to wait. I’m in the middle of a childbirth.’
‘What?’
‘Sudden arrival in the Hawaiian Cocktail Lounge. Wait here.’ He filled his bag with emergency supplies and dashed off.
The Doctor stopped moaning as soon as Doctor Marter had disappeared. ‘Now to find our Miss X.’
‘Get back, Marie! Keep away from it!’
She stared at him incredulously. ‘Doctor, what are you on about? You’re embarrassing me.’ She turned to the old lady, who was sitting on a bench in the consulting room. ‘I don’t know what’s come over him. I’m so sorry.’
The Doctor was still shouting. ‘It’s not safe! Just look at its venomous tentacles! Get away from it at once!’
The old lady looked utterly dumbfounded. She turned to Marie and murmured, ‘Is your friend quite all right in the head?’
‘I hardly know him,’ Marie explained, glaring at the Doctor.
The lady pursed her lips. ‘He’s not being very respectful, I must say.’
Marie poked the Doctor in the ribs. ‘What’s the matter with you?’
He grabbed Marie by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. ‘Is there something wrong with your eyesight?’
The old lady was on her feet now and pulling on her coat. She bustled past them, muttering crossly, ‘Strangers saying horrible, insulting things. I’m not staying here. Good day to you!’
The Doctor stepped aside for her, looking aghast as she left the sickbay.
‘How did that beast get aboard?’ he demanded once the old lady was out of hearing range. ‘Seriously, I have no idea what that creature is. Some kind of mutant. And how come you don’t look a bit more shocked? Is this an everyday event? Do you often have horrible mutations on board the W. H. Allen?’
‘What do you mean?’ Marie snapped. ‘She seemed like a perfectly ordinary old lady to me.’
The Doctor frowned. ‘Then we definitely aren’t seeing the same thing. And, judging by the lack of terrified screams from other passengers on the deck she’s just wandered on to, I’m guessing that no one else is seeing her as she truly is, either. How intriguing!’
Marie was gawping at him. ‘But that was Miss X. The lady I saw in the sea …’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘No, that was a heinous monster, Marie. And monsters are my business!’
There was every chance that the man who called himself the Doctor was crackers. Marie decided she had to concentrate on her job and, even though the Doctor was rather intriguing, it might be best if their paths didn’t cross again.
She was singing in the Sounds of the Seventies, Eighties Extravaganza and Hits of the Nineties twice a day, and it was during the matinee of the third of these that she noticed him sitting in the audience, eating crisps and singing along. What was the Doctor up to now?
Over the next few days she kept noticing Miss X, too, though this was less surprising, since the old lady had become something of a celebrity on board the ship. The captain had generously provided her with a cabin with a balcony, and a smart wardrobe from one of the designer boutiques. The old lady’s memory still hadn’t returned and she constantly wore a slightly vague look.
‘Hello.’ Marie bumped into her on purpose. ‘I’m Marie Blenkinsop. I’m the one who spotted you the other day, when you were in the water.’
Miss X’s face brightened considerably. ‘My dear, then I must thank you. I owe you my life!’
‘It was nothing,’ said Marie, though it was nice to be thanked for her efforts. She’d screamed herself hoarse that day. ‘Anyone would have done the same.’
‘I must think of a suitable reward for you.’ Miss X smiled.
Suddenly Colonel Hulke was standing beside them in his blazer with brass buttons. ‘Good afternoon.’ He executed a stiff little bow.
‘Colonel Hulke is treating me to lunch today,’ Miss X explained.
‘I want to hear all about your ordeal at sea,’ he said. Then he added gallantly, ‘Though not if you’ll find it too upsetting.’
‘Of course not. Lead on, Colonel. The sea air has given me quite an appetite.’
As Marie watched the two elderly people amble towards the first-class dining room, she was aware the whole time of the Doctor standing by the railings and watching over his newspap
er.
‘Why are you spying on them?’ she asked him. ‘They’re perfectly ordinary.’
‘You know that isn’t true.’
‘Don’t start this again!’ Marie made to hurry away.
‘Look,’ said the Doctor, producing a clunky Polaroid camera from one of his coat pockets. ‘I snapped some pictures to prove to you that she’s the hideous creature I say she is.’
The instant print was still developing. He shook it and the grey square clarified to show Marie talking to a perfectly innocuous and respectable Miss X.
The Doctor was astonished. ‘What? That’s how you see her, is it?’
‘Of course. That’s how everyone sees her.’
‘I don’t,’ he said, almost sulkily. ‘She must be using a very powerful form of mind control if she can even fool my camera.’ The Doctor’s thoughts were racing.
‘You’re really worried, aren’t you?’
‘Well, of course I am! That mutant squid creature has got razor-sharp tentacles! I don’t think it’s come aboard simply to have lunch and hear you singing in Eighties Extravaganza, good as your show is.’
‘Then what do you think it’s here for?’
‘Ah, you’re starting to believe me!’ He smiled.
‘Not really,’ she said. Then added, ‘Well, perhaps …’
There was just something very convincing about his manner.
‘We’re in grave danger,’ he said.
A body was found early the next morning. The victim was floating face down in the hot tub on the top deck, and identified as the rather tipsy middle-aged man last seen drinking martinis in the Over-the-Rainbow Cocktail Bar.
‘He was found by early-morning bathers,’ Captain Letts solemnly informed the Doctor, as they watched the body being hoisted out of the bubbles. ‘Never in all my years have I had a murder on board my ship. This is a bad business.’
‘Very bad.’ The Doctor crouched by the sopping corpse. ‘Strangled, of course, though look at those red burns on his flesh.’
The captain bristled. ‘I’m sure Doctor Marter will give him a thorough post mortem.’
‘They look like jellyfish stings,’ mused the Doctor.
