The Taking of Chelsea 426

by Doctor Who

  At its tail end, the rockets of the Pride of Deimos flared into life, jets of blue and white gas erupting out into the ether. The whole colony shuddered; the abandoned plastic cups left behind by the control tower's operators bouncing on their desks. The Doctor, Jake, Vienna and

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  their parents all braced themselves.

  'Ooh,' said the Doctor. 'Bit bumpy, but it's a start.

  OK, Captain... Power down, or whatever it is you space captains say. Reduce thrust. Whatever.'

  'Reducing thrust, Doctor.'

  Looking out over the horizon, the Doctor saw the storm drawing closer still. Even with the rockets of the Pride of Deimos no longer firing, the colony was still shaking.

  The Doctor lifted the microphone once more, but then turned to Jake. While the rest of his family were frozen in place, their expressions ones of absolute terror, Jake was smiling. The Doctor held out the microphone.

  'You do it,' he said, beaming. Tell him to give it some welly.'

  'Welly?' said Jake, taking the microphone.

  Tell him to fire on full power. Or whatever the proper term is.'

  Jake frowned. 'No,' he said. 'If they fire on full power they might break free. They need to go up to about twenty per cent power, and then the Herald of Nanking has to give it fifteen, maybe sixteen per cent.'

  The Doctor looked from Jake to the ships down on the Docks and then back to Jake again.

  'What?' he said. 'Which one's the Herald of Nanking?'

  That one down there,' said Jake, pointing.

  'How do you know that?'

  Mr Carstairs laughed.

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  The ships,' he said, smiling proudly. 'He's always watching the ships.'

  'Brilliant!' said the Doctor. 'Well, you seem to know what you're doing. I'll... er... just, you know... moral support and all the rest of it.'

  Jake laughed and, lifting the microphone to his mouth, said, 'OK, Pride of Deimos, if you could go up to twenty per cent power.'

  'I'm sorry,' said the Captain, 'but who is this?'

  The Doctor leaned in to the microphone.

  'I wouldn't argue,' he said. 'He knows more about all this than I do, and that's saying something.'

  'Fair enough,' said the Captain. 'Rockets firing on twenty per cent.'

  The rockets fired up once again and the colony shook even more violently than before.

  'OK,' said Jake. 'Herald of Nanking, if you could go up to fifteen per cent.'

  Below the Pride of Deimos, the rockets of a smaller ship let out a fiery jet, and the whole colony began to tilt north.

  'Ooh,' said the Doctor. 'Easy.

  Beyond the windows of the control tower, the storm was almost upon them. As much as the Pride of Deimos and Herald of Nanking were pushing them away, the Great White Spot was pulling them in.

  'It's not enough,' said the Doctor anxiously. 'It's not enough. OK, Jake... I think we need to try all of them.'

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  'All of them?'

  'All of them.'

  'OK...' said Jake, nervously. 'Um... Can all of the Captains whose ships are facing north... Can you all fire your rockets? Pride of Deimos. .. go up to twenty-five per cent. Herald of Nanking. .. Go up to twenty.

  One by one Jake named the ships that lined the Western Docks and gave each captain the order to fire their rockets, telling each one in turn the exact amount of power to apply.

  With a colossal roar and a blinding flash of light, the rockets of a dozen ships erupted. The colony shuddered and shook; anything that wasn't fixed into place tumbling and crashing to the floor.

  Through the windows, beyond the edges of the colony, the Doctor watched as the storm came closer and closer.

  Jake's plan was working. A colony the size of a small city was drifting north, the storm now veering sharply to the southernmost edges of Chelsea 426.

  The flotation panel on the southwest corner began to dip violently as it drew nearer to the storm itself and they could hear a metallic groan as its fixtures were strained by the sheer force of the storm's tremendous pull.

  'Come on...' said the Doctor. 'Come on!'

  Bolts and rivets the size of tree trunks were wrenched free from the flotation panel's moorings and sent

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  spinning into the storm in a glittering metallic cloud of shrapnel. The colony shook again and, with a monstrous crash, the panel was torn away and flung out into the storm, where it buckled and folded, its membrane torn to shreds and its frame smashed into tiny pieces.

  'Whoops,' said the Doctor. That's not good.'

  Still, the rockets of the ships on the Western Dock fired full blast into the face of the storm, and still the colony drifted north. The Doctor watched as they passed around the northern edges of the vortex, missing it by only a few short miles. The colony continued to shudder and shake until finally, the storm now behind them, it came to rest. The rockets of the ships below had died down.

  The Doctor took the microphone from Jake.

  'Er, Captains...' he said. 'What's happened?'

  It was Captain Thomas who answered.

  'Run out of fuel, Doctor,' he replied. That's the trouble, firing in the upper atmosphere. The old fuel cells aren't designed to do it. Any news yet on whether we've averted disaster?'

  The Doctor grimaced.

  'Not sure,' he said. 'We lost one of the flotation panels.'

  There was a long pause.

  The Doctor turned to Jake, Vienna and Mr and Mrs Carstairs, anxiously biting his lower lip, but noticed that none of them seemed as concerned as he was.

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  'Is that all?' said Captain Thomas, after an age.

  'Good thing these things remain stable with just the three, then, isn't it?'

  The Doctor laughed, more out of relief than anything else.

  'Stable on three?' he said, still laughing.

  'Oh yes. That's the thing with flotation panels.

  Damned things break all the time.'

  'Stable on three!' said the Doctor. 'We're stable on three!'

  He turned to Jake and Vienna.

  'D'you hear that? We're stable on three!'

  'Yeah,' said Vienna, sarcastically. 'You didn't know that?'

  The Doctor's smile changed instantly into a disgruntled scowl.

  'Oh, all right, Miss I-Know-Everything!' He turned to Jake. 'How do you put up with her?'

  Jake smiled, and the Doctor laughed, grinning at the twins, and then at their parents.

  'Your children,' he said. They're brilliant. Just brilliant. Did you know that? Well, of course you knew that. They're your kids. And they're brilliant!'

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  Theyhadnever,intheirtwoyearslivingonChelsea 426, seen the hotel this busy. The lobby was filled with people, the passengers from those ships that had steered the colony away from the storm. Among the many new faces, Mr Carstairs made a beeline for two in particular.

  'Jenny!' he called. 'Zack!'

  'Oh, hello,' said Jenny. 'Apparently it's going to be three or four days before they can refuel. We were wondering if—'

  'Of course!' said Mr Carstairs. 'Of course!'

  His wife appeared at his side.

  The usual rate is sixty credits a night,' she said.

  Mr Carstairs shook his head.

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  'No,' he said. 'Not for these two. They can stay on the house.'

  'But—'

  'No, Bess,' said Mr Carstairs. 'It's the least we can do.

  Those ships could have left us, you know.'

  Mrs Carstairs smiled.

  'Yes, Brian,' she said. 'Quite right.'

  She turned to Zack and Jenny.

  'Welcome to the Grand Hotel. Breakfast is served between six-thirty and nine-thirty. Our son will help you with your lug
gage.'

  She looked around the lobby for Jake.

  'Jake?' she called out. 'Jake? Oh, where is he now?'

  From the windows of room 237, Jake Carstairs looked down at the south-west corner of the colony.

  Engineers in spacesuits were already carrying out emergency repairs to the areas of broken, jagged metal where the flotation panel had been torn away, but the Great White Spot was far behind them.

  A short time earlier, some people from the colony's hospital had come to take away the Major's body, but Jake had wiped away his tears and kept what his father called a 'stiff upper lip'. Only when they had gone and he was alone in the room did he allow himself to cry.

  On the other side of the room, the door of the TARDIS opened, and the Doctor stepped out.

  'Are you leaving us?' Jake asked, mopping up the last

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  tears with his fingers and wiping his nose on the back of his hand.

  'Soon,' said the Doctor. Thought I'd go and say goodbye to your parents first.'

  Jake nodded thoughtfully.

  'Where will you go?'

  'Oh,' said the Doctor. 'Here and there. Anywhere, really.'

  'So you can go anywhere in that thing?' asked Jake, nodding toward the TARDIS.

  'Oh yeah,' said the Doctor. 'More or less.'

  Jake looked back to the TARDIS.

  And do you ever take people with you? When you're travelling around?'

  'Sometimes,' said the Doctor.

  'Oh, right,' said Jake. 'Because I was wondering—'

  The Doctor shook his head.

  'No,' he said, smiling gently. 'I know what you're thinking, and no.'

  'But why not?'

  'Because,' said the Doctor, 'for one thing I've had my fair share of angry mothers lately, and I don't think I'd survive the wrath of yours. And for another thing...'

  Jake's shoulders slumped and he hung his head.

  'Look,' said the Doctor, 'life here isn't all that bad, is it?'

  'You don't live here,' replied Jake. 'With their boring Colony Code and their Mr This and Mrs That. It's boring.

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  And everyone's weird.'

  'Yeah,' said the Doctor. 'But everyone's a little bit weird, aren't they? Just a little bit. I mean... Look at you. Thirteen years old, but you know a scary amount about rockets. I mean, seriously. And your sister...

  With computers? Freaks, the pair of you.'

  Jake laughed, and the Doctor smiled gently.

  'I've got a feeling things are going to be a little bit different from now on,' he said. 'Don't get me wrong, it's not going to turn into the Party Capital of Saturn, but things will be different. You'll see. Besides... You've got plenty of time to see the universe. I reckon you'll make a good pilot one day.'

  'You reckon?'

  'Oh yeah,' said the Doctor. 'Jake Carstairs... Space Captain. Sounds perfect.'

  Jake smiled.

  'Come on,' the Doctor continued. 'Let's get you back to your mum and dad. Looks like they've got plenty of customers to deal with.'

  The woman with the pearl earrings and necklace rolled her eyes and drummed her fingers impatiently on the reception desk.

  'Come along, dear,' she said. 'I would very much like to check into my room as soon as possible, thank you.

  And where is my luggage? Really... I don't know why we had to take our things off the ship. I've got a perfectly

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  acceptable cabin on the Pride of Deimos, you know. It has a balcony. Do your rooms have balconies?'

  'No, madam,’ replied Vienna, writing down the woman's details but scarcely daring to look up at her, fearing another glowering sneer from their guest.

  'No,' said the woman. 'Of course not. A week without a balcony. I shall be writing a stern letter to the travel agents about this, you mark my words. Not allowed back on the ship... It's health and safety gone mad if you ask me...'

  •Er, Vienna?'

  Vienna looked up and saw, standing beside the woman in pearls, Wallace.

  'Hi, Wallace,' she said. 'I'm a bit busy at the moment.'

  'Yeah,' said Wallace. 'Sorry about that. I was just wondering... if maybe you'd, er... well, like to go see a film or something.'

  'What? Now?'

  'No... Not now, obviously. But later. When you're a bit less... well... busy.'

  Vienna stopped writing for a moment and smiled.

  'Yeah,' she said. 'Yeah, I'd like that.'

  'Cool!' said Wallace, his face lighting up.

  Realising that he'd spoken a little louder than planned, he nodded sheepishly.

  'Cool,' he said, more quietly. 'I'll call you. Later on, I mean.'

  'Yeah,' said Vienna, still beaming.

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  Wallace waved goodbye and walked out onto Tunbridge Street with what looked very much like a skip in his step.

  Behind the desk, hidden from the view of their guests and her parents, Vienna drummed her feet excitedly on the ground, and then, taking a deep breath, wrote down the last of the pearl-wearing woman's details, and gave her the key card for her room.

  'And where is the bellboy?' asked the woman, flaring her nostrils.

  'Oh, right...' said Vienna, looking around the lobby.

  She saw, beyond the sea of guests, her brother and the Doctor stepping out of the elevator.

  'Jake!' she called. 'We've got guests. Lots of guests.

  Can you take this lady's luggage up to room one-three-five?'

  Jake nodded dutifully and jogged over to the guest and her luggage.

  This way, madam!' he said, wheeling her suitcases towards the elevators.

  Vienna turned to the Doctor.

  'Are you going?' she asked. There was a hint of disappointment in her tone which he hadn't quite expected.

  'Yeah,' said the Doctor. 'Well... Looks like you're going to need as many free rooms as you can get.'

  'Yeah,' Vienna laughed. She bit her lower lip softly, and said, 'Doctor... I'm sorry if I was a bit... you 234

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  know... snappy with you earlier. And I'm sorry I called you weird.'

  'Snappy?' said the Doctor. 'Oh... No. You weren't snappy. It's called cautious. I mean... Strange bloke turns up and starts talking about aliens... I'd be exactly the same in your shoes. Besides which, I am weird, so you weren't wrong there.'

  Vienna laughed.

  'Anyway,' the Doctor continued, 'where's your mum and dad?'

  Vienna pointed past the guests to where they stood, her father with his arm around her mother's shoulder.

  The Doctor crossed the lobby to join them.

  'Right,' he said. 'I'll be making a move now.'

  'So soon?' said Mrs Carstairs. 'But we've hardly got to know you, Doctor. I'm afraid I was a little out of sorts, earlier. Can't remember a thing about it...'

  'No,' said the Doctor. 'Probably for the best. Still...

  Nice to see the hotel so busy.'

  'Yes,' said Mr Carstairs, pensively.

  'Oh,' said the Doctor. 'You don't exactly seem over the moon about it. Or should that be moons if you're on Saturn?'

  'Well,' replied Mr Carstairs, 'it's busy now, Doctor, but it won't always be like this. We've given it some thought. The cruise ship companies are paying for the rooms. Compensation, apparently. We'll turn a tidy profit this week. Enough to pay for tickets back to Earth.'

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  The Doctor nodded.

  'So you're going back, then?'

  'Yes,' said Mrs Carstairs. 'Perhaps we were a little hasty in dismissing it so...' She paused to find the right word.

  'Hastily?' the Doctor suggested.

  'Well, quite,' said Mrs Carstairs. 'I doubt there is any place that's truly a Utopia. Do you agree, Doctor?'

  'Oh, absolutely,' replied the Doctor. 'I know it for a fact. We
ll... I should be going.'

  'Goodbye, Doctor,' said Mr Carstairs, shaking the Doctor's hand. 'And thank you.'

  The Doctor nodded without saying another word, and made his way back to the elevators.

  Closing the door of the TARDIS behind him, the Doctor crossed the console room and leaned against the central unit on both hands. Turning a number of dials, he tuned one of the screens to a local news bulletin.

  Amidst the stories of the colony's invasion and its near-collision with the Great White Spot, he saw a smaller headline:

  WAR HERO TO BE GIVEN FULL MILITARY

  FUNERAL ON EARTH

  He opened up the story in full and read it. It ran: The body of Field Marshal Sir Henry Whittington-

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  Smythe, who, tragically, was killed during the incident on Saturn's Chelsea 426 colony, will be returned to Earth where he will receive a full military funeral, it has been announced. Sir Henry, a veteran of the Martian Wars, the Battle of Mercutio 14, and the Siege of the Hexion Gates, is survived by his fourteen children and thirty-six grandchildren.

  'Field Marshal?' said the Doctor. 'Field Marshal? Ha!

  Not a Major! He wasn't a Major! I knew he was fibbing. I could just tell.'

  He shook his head, still laughing, and turned off the screen. The console room was silent now and, but for the Doctor, quite empty.

  He thought about what Jake had asked him, or at least very nearly asked him, and wondered whether he had made the right decision. After all, the TARDIS

  being the TARDIS, he could have taken him away to see another world, another time, and still been able to bring him back in time for dinner.

  No, he decided. He had done the right thing. Besides, he liked his own company. There was nothing wrong with travelling alone. No one to answer to, nobody to nag him or question him. He quite liked it, in fact.

  Couldn't be happier.

  It was just that the TARDIS could seem a very empty place sometimes. Empty and very quiet. He could talk 237

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  to the TARDIS, and often did, but it never answered back, at least never with words.

  He sighed and took a deep breath.

  'Right!' he said aloud. 'Where were we going? Oh yeah... Paris. 1922. The Majestic Hotel. Time to apologise to Marcel, I reckon...'