Doctor Who BBCN20 - The Pirate Loop Page 9

  ‘Yeah,’ said Archie. ‘It’s proper, ain’t it?’

  ‘That is rather considerate,’ said Mrs Wingsworth. ‘In my family, any death is an excuse for yet another squabble over property and jewels.

  You can’t imagine how much of my life I’ve had to spend negotiating probate. It’s a good thing we’re such a close family, really; it makes it easier to hand out the subpoenas.’

  ‘What she on about?’ Archie asked the Doctor.

  ‘Oh,’ said the Doctor. ‘Fighting. Over money. Just your sort of thing.’

  Archie grinned at Mrs Wingsworth, seeing in her something new, something he understood. ‘Good,’ he said.

  ‘If Martha was here,’ said the Doctor, clambering back out of the small capsule, ‘you know what she would say?’

  ‘No,’ said Archie, hanging his head.

  ‘Really?’ said the Doctor. ‘You don’t have any idea?’

  ‘She wouldn’t like it,’ Archie admitted.

  ‘That’s right,’ said the Doctor. ‘And you know what? Just for her, I’m gonna make sure you lot change your ways.’ He met Mrs Wingsworth with his terrible gaze. ‘All of you,’ he said.

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  ‘What are you implying, dear?’ laughed Mrs Wingsworth, though without the lightness that her words suggested.

  ‘S’OK,’ said Archie. ‘Was bored of killing them lot anyway. S’no fun when they just come back.’

  ‘Really?’ said the Doctor, sternly. ‘Killing Martha was much better for you, was it?’

  Archie again hung his head. ‘No,’ he said.

  ‘He was rather upset about it,’ Mrs Wingsworth told the Doctor.

  ‘When I first met her,’ said the Doctor, ‘she was training to be a doctor. She wanted to help people. Wanted to make things better. And she did. Wherever we went, she made things better. And I couldn’t have been more proud of her. She was going to do brilliant things.’

  His smiled faded. ‘And you stopped her.’

  Archie scratched awkwardly at his ear. ‘I never ’ad a friend before,’

  he said quietly, ‘An’ she was nice. She let me eat food.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the Doctor. ‘But it wasn’t enough, was it?’

  ‘But,’ said Archie. ‘I thought. . . I wanted to give ’er a funeral.’

  ‘He did talk about that,’ said Mrs Wingsworth.

  ‘She didn’t ’ave an earring, so I took this instead,’ said Archie. And he dipped his paw into his spacesuit and extracted the thin chain that he wore round his neck. The innocent-looking key to the TARDIS spun slowly from the chain.

  ‘That’s stealing, dear,’ said Mrs Wingsworth.

  ‘I’ll take it,’ said the Doctor. ‘I’m going to take Martha home to her family.’

  Archie considered, and then removed the chain from round his neck and handed it to the Doctor. ‘Can I come too?’ he said.

  ‘Of course you can’t!’ said Mrs Wingsworth.

  ‘Oh,’ said Archie sadly.

  ‘Her family wouldn’t take it too well,’ said the Doctor. ‘They’re not going to be happy seeing me.’

  ‘And also,’ said Mrs Wingsworth, ‘there isn’t a body.’

  ‘I’ll find her,’ said the Doctor. ‘However long it takes.’

  ‘If you say so, dear,’ said Mrs Wingsworth.

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  ‘But it’s good that you feel bad about it, Archie,’ said the Doctor. ‘It means there’s hope for you yet.’

  ‘Don’t like it,’ said Archie. ‘It’s sad. Like Dash, when Joss got killed.’

  ‘What?’ said the Doctor.

  ‘Oh,’ said Mrs Wingsworth. ‘When they chased your friend, Jocelyn got in the way of the shooting. I think it reflected off the tray Martha was holding.’

  ‘An’ Dash was sad,’ said Archie. ‘He was crying.’

  ‘I think it made things clear between them, dear,’ said Mrs Wingsworth. ‘Said all the things they never dared to.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Archie. ‘They’re goin’ steady now. I saw ’em kissing.’

  ‘Well, that’s lovely,’ said the Doctor. ‘Can’t imagine a happier couple and all the things you’re meant to say. But you said she died.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Archie. ‘Didn’t like that.’

  ‘No,’ said the Doctor. ‘I can see that. But she died. And now she’s going out with Dash.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Archie.

  ‘So she just woke up again?’ said the Doctor.

  ‘No, she went first,’ said Archie. ‘Like a transmat. When none of us was looking.’

  ‘It’s never when anyone’s watching,’ said Mrs Wingsworth. ‘It’s discreet like that.’

  ‘And then she woke up,’ said the Doctor, hopping from foot to foot with irritation.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Archie. ‘Said she woke up here. An’ she had her earring in. But Dash took it. So we got two.’

  ‘It was rather comic,’ said Mrs Wingsworth. ‘They started shooting each other to collect the extra earrings.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Archie. ‘It was good.’

  ‘But then,’ laughed Mrs Wingsworth, ‘they realised that while they’re still stuck aboard the Brilliant they’ve nothing to spend the gold on! It really was delicious.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Archie.

  The Doctor was staring at them. ‘She woke up here?’ he said. ‘By your capsule?’

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  ‘Yeah,’ said Archie. ‘Me too when I got killed.’

  ‘With me it’s in my berth,’ said Mrs Wingsworth. ‘It’s like going back to square one on a board game. Have you played Backgammon?’

  But the Doctor didn’t answer. He was already away down the passageway, racing back the way they had come.

  Racing back to the engine rooms.

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  The thick metal fire door squealed with protest as it lifted back up into the ceiling. It had only raised a couple of feet when the Doctor rolled underneath it, leapt nimbly up on to his feet and threw his arms round Martha Jones.

  ‘Brilliant,’ he said as he hugged her. ‘Brilliant brilliant brilliant!’

  ‘Hey,’ she said to him, hugging him back but in a strictly friendly way. ‘You took your time.’

  He withdrew from her, his hands still on her arms like he couldn’t quite let her go. His eyes sparkled with delight at her, and again made her insides turn over. ‘Well,’ he said, making light of it all, ‘it took a minute to convince the doors that there wasn’t any fire and they could let me through.’

  ‘So why did they come down in the first place, then?’ she asked. A thought struck her. ‘What have you been up to?’

  ‘It wasn’t me!’ said the Doctor, as if shocked by the very idea. ‘The badgers didn’t want anyone else just walking out of the engine rooms.

  So they set off the emergency things.’

  ‘But there isn’t any fire,’ said Martha.

  ‘No,’ said the Doctor. ‘But emergency things aren’t meant to ask questions. You want them to react at the first sign of danger and not 81

  to think about it. So it’s easy to set them off. Getting them to relax afterwards takes a bit of doing.’

  ‘It is a precautionary measure, Mr Doctor,’ said a polite, robotic voice from behind Martha.

  ‘Gabriel!’ beamed the Doctor at the robot. ‘You’re in better shape than last time. And you got trapped down here as well?’

  ‘Begging your pardon, Mr Doctor,’ said Gabriel, ‘I thought it best to remain with Ms Martha in case I could be of assistance.’

  ‘That’s very noble of you,’ said the Doctor. ‘I’m sure Ms Martha appreciates it.’

  ‘Yeah right,’ said Martha. ‘Kept on offering to fetch me drinks. But could he raise the fire doors?’

  ‘This unit,’ said Gabriel, ‘may only countermand the door protocols when not to do so would threaten passenger safety.’

  ‘He’s been saying that the whole time, too,’ said Martha.

  ‘He was only doing his job,’ said the Doctor kindly.
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  ‘But I’ve been stuck in here for hours!’ said Martha.

  ‘Total duration forty-nine minutes and eighteen seconds,’ Gabriel corrected.

  ‘That’s about as long as it’s been since I got out of the engine rooms,’

  said the Doctor. ‘Give or take a bit. Guess if you’d been brought back any earlier, I could have seen it happen. And that’s not how it works.’

  ‘The Starship Brilliant is programmed with discretion parameters, Mr Doctor,’ said Gabriel. ‘We apologise for any delay.’

  ‘It felt like hours!’ snapped Martha at the robot.

  ‘This unit,’ repeated Gabriel, ‘may only countermand the door protocols when –’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ said the Doctor, picking up on Martha’s anxiety.

  ‘Martha, what’s happened to you?’

  ‘Doctor,’ she said gently. ‘ I died. I really died. ’

  ‘Yeah,’ said the Doctor. ‘You did.’ He grinned at her, that infuriating grin which made you grin back at him. ‘But you got better.’

  Martha would have said something, but her mouth fell open in horror as she saw who now stood behind the Doctor; Mrs Wingsworth and Archibald.

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  ‘What is it?’ said the Doctor.

  ‘He. . . ’ said Martha, struggling to find the words. ‘He killed me.

  And I think he took the TARDIS key.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Archibald.

  ‘See?’ said Martha.

  ‘Yeah,’ said the Doctor. ‘And then he surrendered it to me, just because I asked him nicely. Here you go.’ He dropped the chain with the key on it into her hands.

  ‘Oh,’ said Martha as she put the chain around her neck. ‘So we’re all friends again now, are we?’

  Archibald fidgeted nervously.

  ‘You’ve got something to say to her,’ Mrs Wingsworth prompted him.

  ‘Haven’t you, dear?’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Archibald to Martha. ‘Won’t do it again.’

  ‘I should hope not!’ said Martha. She lifted up her vest top to show him the scar on her belly where the knife had gone in. ‘See that?’ she said. ‘That’s what you did to me!’

  The Doctor put on his glasses as he bent to examine the scar. ‘That’s healing nicely,’ he said. ‘Looks like you’ve had it for years.’

  Archibald also examined the scar. ‘Skin’s good,’ he said. Martha quickly dropped her vest back down.

  ‘Don’t go getting any ideas,’ she told him.

  ‘No,’ said Archibald, guiltily.

  ‘I like having ideas,’ said the Doctor. ‘Ideas are good. I think I’m having one now. Yes, here it comes.’ They waited for him to go on.

  ‘Yes, here we go. Martha, you remember dying.’

  Her shoulders sagged at the memory. ‘Yeah,’ she said quietly.

  ‘And the scar is there to prove it happened, yeah?’ he went on.

  ‘I guess so,’ said Martha.

  ‘Well, don’t you see?’ said the Doctor.

  ‘No,’ said Martha. She sometimes found his enthusiasm for all things a bit exhausting. ‘It’s been a long day and you can just tell me.’

  ‘Right,’ said the Doctor. ‘Now, you died, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Martha.

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  ‘And then you got brought back to life down here. Like being in a board game and having to go back to the start.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said.

  ‘That’s what I said,’ said Mrs Wingsworth.

  ‘Yes, it’s a good analogy, thank you,’ said the Doctor. ‘But whatever it was that brought you back to life, Martha, whatever made you better. . . It left you with a scar.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Martha. And then her eyes opened wide with sudden realisation. ‘But it didn’t need to! Something as powerful as that. . . ’

  ‘It could have made you good as new,’ agreed the Doctor.

  ‘But it’s not just me,’ said Martha. ‘It brought back Mrs Wingsworth, too.’

  ‘I don’t have any scars,’ said Mrs Wingsworth. Then she considered.

  ‘But I did the first time they killed me.’

  ‘We killed them a lot,’ explained Archibald. ‘An’ they never died.’

  ‘It’s all very convenient, isn’t it?’ said the Doctor. ‘Like. . . ’ He looked to Martha. ‘Like what else? Something in the cocktail lounge.’

  ‘The canapés!’ she said.

  ‘Canapés are good,’ said Archibald.

  ‘So good you ate a whole tray of them,’ said Martha. ‘And then the moment the tray was empty it was suddenly full again.’

  ‘That’s good, too,’ agreed Archibald.

  ‘But not when anyone’s looking,’ said the Doctor. ‘It only happens when no one can see how it’s done.’

  ‘But why?’ asked Martha.

  ‘Oh really, dear,’ said Mrs Wingsworth. ‘The mechanics of these things are so terribly vulgar.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said the Doctor. ‘It’s all part of the well-mannered service.

  Isn’t it, Gabriel?’

  They all turned to the robot. His blank, metal head reflected their faces back at them. ‘There are protocols, Mr Doctor,’ he said.

  ‘You don’t really understand it yourself, do you?’ said the Doctor, gently.

  ‘I. . . ’ began Gabriel. ‘The logic is impaired.’

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  ‘Yes,’ said the Doctor. ‘That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re struggling to make sense of it. The whole starship is.’

  ‘What?’ said Martha. ‘The starship is thinking?’

  ‘Well, yeah,’ said the Doctor. ‘Kind of. We can have the philosophy later, but basically it responds to stimuli the best way it can, just like the rest of us. And sometimes we think about it and sometimes we just respond.’

  ‘You mean it’s like breathing,’ said Martha. ‘You can control your breathing consciously, but mostly you don’t really think about doing it.’

  ‘That’s true of the Balumin, too, dear,’ said Mrs Wingsworth. ‘Although my cousin Sandy makes a great kerfuffle about how you should always control your breathing. She was into all that sort of thing: crystals, coloured smoke. . . ’

  ‘I can hold my breath,’ said Archibald proudly. ‘For when we go swimming.’

  ‘I think we’ve established the analogy,’ said the Doctor impatiently, always eager to get back to the mystery. ‘Now, this ship is going round and round in circles, isn’t it? So every day’s the same and no one dies for good.’

  ‘It’s a time loop,’ said Martha. ‘Like in that film, Groundhog Day.’

  ‘Huh,’ said Archibald. ‘Groundhogs are bad. They take our stuff.’

  ‘Yes, it is a bit like the film,’ said the Doctor. ‘Just without all the dancing at the end. And it’s not a complete loop. Things don’t all go back to the beginning at midnight, they jump back bit by bit. Which suggests the loop is broken somewhere. And we kind of skip over the gap.’

  ‘That’s bad, isn’t it?’ said Martha, seeing the look in his eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘A closed loop just runs and runs for ever. But with a gap in it, every time it goes round there’s something a bit different.

  You have a scar, you don’t have a scar. The badgers come back with new earrings.’ He grinned. ‘See it didn’t try to make another TARDIS

  key. Probably couldn’t understand it. But anyway, all the time it’s making things better again, it needs energy. A lot of energy.’

  ‘But how?’ said Martha. ‘What’s keeping it all together?’

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  ‘There are protocols, Ms Martha,’ said Gabriel. But he did not explain any further.

  ‘Yes, there are protocols,’ said the Doctor. ‘The Starship Brilliant doesn’t fly through what you think of as reality, Martha. Think of where we are right now as a sort of sea of dreams. And when it’s flying normally it needs to get itself back out of that and into the

  “real” universe. So, as well as the experimental drive it
self, it must also be able to twist reality a bit.’

  ‘It was all in the brochure, dear,’ said Mrs Wingsworth.

  ‘That doesn’t sound good,’ said Martha. ‘You’re not supposed to change reality, are you?’

  ‘Well, usually you’re all right if you only twist it a bit,’ said the Doctor. ‘The TARDIS has to be able to warp things about to get in and out of the Vortex. That’s your top-end of the clever scale. A ship like this one has just got to make sure the ship holds together and everyone comes out the far end the same shape as when they went in.’

  He shook his head. ‘Though you should see what happens to people when they travel about a lot. Long-term exposure to non-reality, that can be a bit weird.’

  ‘But that’s not what’s happening here, is it?’ said Martha.

  ‘No,’ said the Doctor. ‘It’s working all-out to hold everything together. The Brilliant has a rough idea of how things are meant to be, and it tries to keep them like that. And it’s got protocols to look after the passengers and make sure they are safe. So it’s restocking the nibbles and bringing you back to life. And all in the most discreet of ways, so you don’t quite notice.’

  ‘The service has been exemplary,’ agreed Mrs Wingsworth.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Wingsworth,’ said Gabriel. ‘I shall pass on your kind words to the captain.’

  ‘The captain,’ said the Doctor. ‘I should have a word with him, too.’

  ‘I regret to say that the captain cannot meet with passengers at the present time, Mr Doctor,’ said Gabriel. ‘I would be happy to pass on any message to her.’

  ‘Gabriel,’ said the Doctor, ‘if I don’t speak to the captain myself, the whole ship is in danger. It’s only a matter of time before you exhaust 86

  the energy available and the Brilliant just explodes. And there’ll be no more miraculous resurrections then.’

  Gabriel considered carefully. ‘You believe the passengers are at risk, Mr Doctor?’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ said the Doctor.

  ‘Very well,’ said Gabriel. ‘please accompany me.’

  They followed the robot – left, left again and then right, and up the wide staircase into the dining room. Martha could hear the tentacled aliens yammering away to each other over in the cocktail lounge, oblivious to any danger. A thought struck her.