by Mark Speed
"So he's like a parasite, your cousin?"
"No, no, no. Look, he's just difficult to find. Alright? He doesn't want to be found. And, to be honest, I think his powers have probably degraded somewhat –– hence the fact that he got hacked. That makes him doubly hard to find because he's not giving out much in the way of signals I can pick up. Luckily, though, I'm able to pick up something from his Spectrel. It's degraded too."
"Isn't there some, like, relationship between you and your T— Spectrel?"
The Doctor stopped and faced him. "Yes, there is. That's one thing that the BBC did at least get right. There's kind of a symbiotic relationship between a Time Keeper and his Spectrel. That makes it doubly important to find Where. If he's compromised, whoever it is that tried hacking us can get at the others."
"Surely they can help you too, right?"
The Doctor snorted.
"Like I said, you should get therapy for those issues. I bet your Christmas card list is, like, really small."
"Here we go... Yes, here we go, Kevin. Up ahead – not much more than forty or fifty yards." They looked along the street, both sides of which were lined with cars in front of drab, identikit houses. "It's actually rather clever to hide somewhere so unglamorous and nondescript."
"Rather him than me."
They walked on, the Doctor waving his Ultraknife in smaller arcs. To Kevin's surprise, he began waving it more in the direction of the parked cars than the houses. Finally he was pointing it directly at a dilapidated old black cab.
"Oh, dear God," said the Doctor.
"Whassup?"
"This is it. This is his Spectrel."
"What, this piece of junk? It's filthy. And the tyres are flat too. This is ready for the scrapyard. You sure you've got it right?"
"Oh, this is Where's alright. This is bad, Kevin. This is really bad."
Kevin rubbed some of the grime off the window on the passenger's side and cupped his hands against the glass to peer inside. "Filthy inside, too. Junk and all sorts. Someone's been eating a McDonald's and just chucking it in the back." He touched the side of the vehicle and felt only cold metal. He wondered if this was how a Spectrel was supposed to feel.
"I feel faint. My poor cousin." The Doctor leaned back against a garden wall.
"Road tax is up-to-date," said Kevin, brightly. "Expires in September. If he'd not kept it taxed it would have been towed. That's encouraging, innit?"
"I suppose so." He pushed himself away from the wall again. "I wonder which house is his?"
"Um... I, like, don't think you have to look far."
The Doctor followed Kevin's gaze to the house next door to the one whose wall he'd been leaning against. The grass was completely overgrown. A buddleia had sprouted in the middle of the lawn and a blue bag trapped in its branches flapped in the breeze. The paint on the front door was peeling and the curtains were closed, both upstairs and down. All the other houses in the street had modern uPVC double-glazing fitted, but this house had retained its wooden frames. Most of the paint had peeled from them, and the wood underneath was clearly rotten.
"I feared as much," said the Doctor. "At least he has a semi-detached, I suppose. He walked up the drive between the two houses. Whilst the neighbour's garage was well-kept, his cousin's was not. The neighbours had installed a metal swing-down door, but his cousin's was the original wooden design. It was rotten at the bottom and one of the four panes of glass at the top was broken. He peered inside. "Full of junk," he called back to Kevin. He tried the gate into the back garden. It was padlocked, but when he pushed it the latch came away from its rotten surround.
"It makes the front garden look like an entry at the Chelsea Flower Show," said Kevin. The grass was knee-height, and a few sycamore saplings had taken root in the lawn. The borders were impenetrable.
"He's gone native," said the Doctor. "Look, he's even got a brick-built barbecue set on his weed-infested patio." He went over to examine it. "The coals suggest it was used just the once, then left to rust. He moved some considerable time ago. But to find this...... It's just so far beneath what he was. I mean, he was always the least fastidious of us but one always assumed that whatever bottom he hit, it would be above this. Substantially above."
"It happens, Doc. You should at least be grateful he's alive. Besides, each to their own, you know? Some people are happy with less than what you've got. Like about ninety-nine percent of the population. You get me?"
"Please," said the Doctor, closing his eyes and sighing. He opened them again. "Please don't equate human affairs and human lives to ours. That's another layer of presumption and prejudice you'll have to drop if you want to succeed in your role. Just as you should judge historical figures by the time in which they lived, you should judge other species by their own culture and biology. After all, you don't judge stags for keeping harems and rutting, do you?"
"Yeah, but your cousin is intelligent, right? You should respect the fact that he had freedom of choice, no matter what his background or upbringing."
"What a very modern view, Kevin. The individual can do what the hell he or she likes and absolve themselves of all responsibility for their actions. Someone else can take up the slack. Just assume someone else will deal with any problems whilst you go off and live your life on a whim."
"I'm so glad you're not bitter, Doctor."
"There's a lot you don't understand, laddie. You might think I'm a bit uptight, and maybe I am. But in the coming adventures you might just begin to understand the reasons why. Right now, I have to pick up these pieces and secure us all."
"Excuse me. Are you from the council?" called a voice.
Kevin and the Doctor spun around to see a grey-haired man peering over the back fence. He was evidently standing on something.
"I filed a complaint about the state of this place eight months ago and I ain't heard nothing back. I'm glad you're finally going to do something about it. Bleeding disgrace it is. Brings the neighbourhood right down. Old Alice next door to me, when they came to sell her house and put her in a care home last year, the agent said the state of Ware's place knocked twenty grand clean off. You do the maths on that," the man pointed at the surrounding houses, "and he's knocked at least a hundred grand off all of us. Bleedin' disgrace."
"I'm not from the council," said the Doctor. "I'm a blood relative. I've not seen my cousin in decades."
"A relative? I thought he was on his Jack Jones now. Ain't seen no visitors in years."
"How long's he been here? Do you know?"
"Me and the wife moved in here in 'sixty-one and he moved in a couple of years after that. He was a decent sort at the start – a bit of a gent, actually –– but he's gone and let himself go. Much more in recent years. You can't talk with him no more."
"Forgive me, but it's been such a long time since I saw my cousin. Could you tell me what he does for a living now? What are his habits?"
"Taxi driver, ain't he? Always has been. Bit of a legend actually, by all accounts. No one comes close to getting their fares where they want to be faster than he does."
"Really? Who told you that?"
"Me elder brother – God rest 'im – was a cabbie just about all his working life. Your Dave might have slobbed out in his personal life, but I heard he was always bang on when it comes to cabbing."
"I'm glad to hear that. I assume he works up in town. What are his habits?"
"Course he works up in town. 'Ave to don't you? All the Knowledge is within six miles of Charing Cross. We're twice that out here."
"Yes, yes," said the Doctor. "His habits. What shifts does he work, and what bases does he use?"
"Alright, mate – keep your hair on. I can see you're just like him. Won't be told – think you know it all. I heard he preferred the City to the West End. Never much liked the tourists and the shoppers. As I said, he thinks he knows it all and you get a smarter type – all the smart-Alecs in the law firms and the banks. Not that the bankers have much common sense, if you ask me."
"Yes, but what sort of hours does he work?"
"Likes his nights. That's what's made it so difficult to deal with him, see? You can't ever collar him. You don't want to wake a man who's on nights. I used to do shifts at the Ford plant and –"
"I assume he uses the shelter on the Embankment. Did your brother ever mention that?"
"Look, mate. I'm just trying to be helpful. As a matter of fact, my brother would say he saw him in there more often than not. Now, when you see him, if you can tell him –"
"Don't worry, I'll tell him," said the Doctor, turning his back. "Secure it, will you?" he said to Kevin as he brushed past and walked out of the gate.
Kevin glanced around. The best he could do was to pull the gate closed and jam a twig in it. He ran to catch up with the Doctor, who was striding down the street.
"What's all that about?"
"You can't choose your family, but thank God you can choose your friends."
"You're, like, really mad at your cuz, ain't you?"
"You're dead wrong, Kevin. I'm livid. I'm absolutely livid with him. He's let everyone down. Badly. He's potentially put the whole project in jeopardy. I've a good mind to commandeer his Spectrel." He stopped and looked back up the street.
"Great idea! Let's use his Spectrel to get wherever it is we're going double-quick, yeah?"
"I doubt she's got it in her." He turned and began striding purposefully down the street again.
"She?"
"Yin and yang, Kevin. Time Keepers are male. Well, we're male in a simplistic sort of way for you humans to understand it."
"You mean you're not a man?"
"Of course I'm not a man, you stupid boy. I'm a different species. I'm no more a man than you are a giraffe, you clown."
"Look, there's no need to be like that, Doctor. I've been with you about three days and you just seem to assume I have a certain level of knowledge about the whole universe. No wonder you aren't on speaking terms with your cousins and you don't have any mates apart from a spider that thinks it's a cat. You're a stuck-up jerk, you know that? That old geezer back there was trying to help and you was just rude to him."
The Doctor stopped and turned. Kevin nearly bumped into him. The two stood face-to-face, just inches apart. "Kevin, I'm sorry. Really I am. You're right –– there's no need for incivility, and I apologise unreservedly for that." He began walking again, slower, but with the same solid purpose.
"When I chose you to be my assistant it was because of certain... characteristics. Things that you can't possibly guess at right now. Characteristics and abilities you don't yet know you have. You'll come to understand that, and to grow into them. You will also come to understand just how much of a burden my cousins left on my shoulders when they chose to abdicate their responsibilities. Maybe then you'll appreciate just how much pressure I've been under the last fifty years. More than fifty years, frankly."
They strode on in silence for a minute, crossing a major road, and heading for a Tube station.
"Well, thanks for choosing me, Doc. You know, for putting some faith in me. I'll pay you back, man. I swear it. But it's frustrating, you know? I was expecting this gig to be something else – time travel, fighting evil, seeing amazing creatures and all that."
The Doctor laughed. "I'll tell Trini you're disappointed in her, shall I?"
"Jesus, no!" Kevin saw the Doctor's look, and let himself laugh from his gut.
"Be very, very careful what you wish for, Kevin. Even the damned BBC has occasionally let one of the assistants be killed. Death in real life is much more painful, and tends to have this awful permanence about it."
They touched their Oyster cards on the barriers and went onto the open platform to wait for a train back to town.
"You think about it, Kevin. You seriously think about it. There's something on the loose here that can cut reinforced steel like scissors through paper, and bend it like it's tinfoil. And you're not afraid of that?"
"Like, let's look at the facts, Doc. It's not physically harmed anyone yet, and it seems to live off diesel. It only comes out at night and it runs at the first sign of trouble."
The Doctor grabbed him by the shoulders and grinned. "Good man! Exactly the kind of reasoning I want to hear. Now I remember why I chose you."
"It's this yin and yang thing, innit?" said Kevin. "I'm the brainless optimist full of hope, and you're the uptight, gloomy brainbox, ain't you?"
"Something like that, except that you're not brainless. But as to whether this species of creature is dangerous or not, that's another matter. If you exclude the malaria parasite that travels in mosquitoes, the most dangerous animal in Africa isn't the lion, it's the hippopotamus. Despite the fact that hippos are vegetarians, they kill far more people. They're so powerful and aggressive they can kill crocodiles."
"Yeah, but this thing's not aggressive."
"Yeah, but no one's got between it and its diesel yet. Or its young, if it has them."
"Good point, Doc."
"Thanks. And I sincerely hope it doesn't have young. Invasive species are another constant nightmare I have to deal with."
They boarded a near-empty District line train that would take them straight to Embankment station, and sat down.
"So, do you mind if I ask you about this thing with the Spectrel, then?"
"What, exactly?"
"Like, you wanted to take his Spectrel, but you didn't. I mean, what gives with it? Why's he just left it there? I mean, left her there."
"Anyone – any Time Keeper, that is – can use a Spectrel. But the reality is that you grow into each other; get to know each other's strengths and weaknesses. You get energy from each other. Your Spectrel becomes an extension of your character, in a way. Unfortunately, my cousin has chosen to abuse his – or at least, not to treat her with respect. My guess is that he was using her for ordinary cabbing at some point. Can you imagine? You have the most advanced piece of kit in the entire Pleasant universe and you choose to use it as a London licensed hackney carriage? And I bet that's where his reputation came from: he was using her to transport important clients faster than humans should really be going. I could excuse it if they were important out-of-towners on serious diplomatic business, but not humans."
"Out-of-towners?"
"Oh, sorry. Out-of-towners. Extraterrestrials. Aliens, you would commonly call them."
"Aliens exist?"
"Of course." The Doctor used an open-palm gesture to offer himself as an example.
"No, I mean, like, little green men. Stuff like from Roswell."
"Not really listening to my point about men earlier, were you? I've met the odd alien that's a bit green around the gills, and some species are shorter than others, yes."
"That's so cool! When can we –"
The Doctor silenced him with a wave. "Anyway, I bet she got pretty sick of that quite quickly. They would have had what you'd call in human terms a bit of a falling-out."
"But, like, surely he's the boss?"
"To an extent. But a Spectrel takes its – and I mean 'its', because it's yin and yang – Time Keeper's job seriously. And if the Time Keeper goes off-mission then a Spectrel can refuse to serve anything that isn't related to that mission."
"But you said there was, like, a symbiotic relationship."
"Indeed there is, and therein lies the tragedy. In a relationship where there's no interaction, both parties suffer. His Spectrel is in such a bad way that I doubt she could function on her own. I got but the briefest greeting from her. I can understand that she was trying to conserve energy, but she remembers that I'm his cousin and we've been estranged. I'm sure she was just being a bit huffy. I hope it's nothing more serious – I have no way of knowing how bad that hack was. As I said – there are two sides to it. I know that Dave is not going to be in that good a state himself."
They were into the rush-hour now, and as the Tube train rumbled on into London the carriage became more crowded. When they reached Embankment station they had to sq
ueeze out through the crush onto the platform.
"Yuk," said the Doctor, as they exited through the barriers onto the Embankment itself. He stopped and took out a hygienic wipe from his pocket to clean his hands. Kevin noticed that he was careful to clean between the fingers, and to rub the tips. The Doctor caught him staring. "Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like one?"
"No thanks. You're, like, meticulously clean, Doctor."
"Hygiene is key, Kevin. Public transport is filthy."
"Yeah, but you are, like, obsessive. Seriously, I think you need to talk with someone."
"What was I saying earlier about judging each by the standards of their culture?"
"Just sayin'."
It was twilight now. The London Eye rotated slowly on the other side of the river, and a commuter train rumbled loudly on its way out of Charing Cross and out over Hungerford Bridge to a town in distant Kent. "I love this view east along the river at night," said the Doctor.
"My Mum says it was pretty ugly when I was a baby."
"Ah, you should have seen it in its heyday, Kevin. Water was the fastest way to travel. Where we're standing now was in the river. Over there," he gestured towards the Strand, "was where the beach was. Strand is old English for beach, in case you didn't know. There's a gate in Embankment Gardens where Peter the Great, Tsar of Russia, disembarked. It's about fifty yards from the water's edge now."
"Sounds amazing."
"Stank to high heaven. A giant cesspit. If you fell in, you were dead. The great engineer Joseph Bazalgette built out the riverbanks to accommodate the new sewers in the Eighteen Sixties. They were able to stick the trains down there too. Also narrowed the river and speeded up the flow. It's still only about six feet deep here at low tide. Further down, the Romans were able to ford it."
"You're kidding me."
"Yes, at low tide you could ford the river nearer the City."
"Why'd they build a bridge, then?"
"Who wants to wait for low tide? Now, come on."
"Why are we going back this way?"
"I only came to see the view. You'll learn to take the time to appreciate the smaller things, like views, when you can."
