Doctor Who_ Blue Box - Kate Orman [100]
They were both vague about where they were going next.
‘So are you gonna write a book about us?’ said Peri, changing the subject.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I said. ‘I’m not getting much out of east-coast journalism. I think I’ll write me a bestseller and then hang up my typewriter for a while.’
‘Will you put everything in it?’ she said.
‘Everything.’ Peri looked at the Doctor, a little panicked.
‘Don’t worry. Names will be changed to protect the innocent.’
‘Very well,’ said the Doctor.
Peri touched my elbow, shyly. ‘You’re gonna be OK?’
‘Thanks for your concern, little lady’ I pecked her on the forehead, making her blush. The taxi was pulling up in front of us. ‘I’m more worried about where your life is going to lead you. You take care of each other, now.’
I looked at the Doctor over the roof of the taxi. ‘You’re never gonna tell me everything, are you?’ He just shook his head, with a wicked smile. ‘Oh well. Can’t blame a guy for trying.’
And me?
Once the final draft of this manuscript is in the hands of my publishers8, I’m heading back to the city of Angels.
Maybe, from there, it’ll be a plane back to Sydney. I’ll make up my mind as I go. Maybe I’ll even find somewhere I like between one side of America and the other, and stop there for a while. I’ve bought a little Citröen, in honour of the one I destroyed on my way out of California, all those years ago. I put my typewriter in the trunk, but then thought better of it. By the time I feel like writing again, I’ll probably be using a computer to do it.
Will computers of the future have biological components, maybe modified human brains? It’s a nightmarish concept, and yet there must come a point at which the computer can’t get any faster without also speeding up the lump of cold porridge that’s trying to interface with it. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is us.
Maybe the story goes like this:
The princess cried out as the bull plunged into the ocean, his skin the colour of the foaming surf that surged around him.
She was terrified he would drag her beneath the waves. But instead the bull swam in powerful strokes, further and further from the shore, deeper and deeper into the ocean. Soon the 8 An Australian, writing an American story for British readers.
I pity the poor copy editor who has to cope with my spelling.
shore behind was Just a shape, then a line, and then it was lost to her.
The sea was rough, but the bull’s strong swimming kept them safely afloat. Slowly the princess let go of her frightened grip on the bull’s neck. She eased herself up until she was sitting, her knees holding his muscular back in an easy grasp.
Soon she was riding the bull without difficulty, her eyes fixed on the blue curve of the horizon, eager to see what would emerge from the waves.
‘Well, what do you know,’ said the princess. ‘I was a cowboy all along.’
Acknowledgements
CHICK PETERS would like to thank his interview subjects, especially Peri, the Doctor, and Ian Mond, for giving so much of their time to talk to him.
KATE ORMAN would like to thank Nicola Bryant, Mark Bemay and Evan Doorbell, the denizens of alt.folklore.computers, Kyla Ward, Lloyd Rose, Lance Parkin, Greg McElhatton, the Infinitas writers’ group, Alryssa and Tom Kelly, Mum and Dad for the loan of the loft, and Geoff Wessel for FLEX YOUR HEAD. And, as always, her busy bee Jon, without whose help this book simply could not have been written. Forgive me, all of you, for all the good advice you gave which I didn’t take.
About the Author
CHICK PETERS lives in Tiburon with his wife Sally, three kids, and two cats.
KATE ORMAN is the granddaughter of Jack Warren Orman (1916-2001), from whom she ultimately inherited a great part of her sense of humour and turn of phrase. She has written or co-written eleven Doctor Who novels; her short stories have appeared in Interzone and Realms of Fantasy. Kate lives