Doctor Who_ Blue Box - Kate Orman [65]
You are standing in a large cavern. A
river runs through the east part of the cave. Luis is here. Luis is just e grey figure, an outline without any details.
‘Oh, good grief,’ said the Doctor. A brief struggle ensued over who was going to use the keyboard, which the Doctor won.
Luis, we need to talk. I need your help.
The silhouette stood motionless on the other side of the cave. ‘Where’s Swan?’
‘I don’t know,’ the Doctor said. ‘I have to find her.’
‘She needs help. That thing is affecting her mind. You’re a Doctor. You have to get it away from her.’
‘I intend to. But I need to know more.’ There was a pause, as though Luis was trying to decide how much to tell us.
‘Where did you get it?’ prompted the Doctor.
Ritchie ... w MD ... National Pike
Bob scribbled it down on his arm. The Doctor asked,
‘How did you find it?’
Swan and I @ collector s meeting.
‘Can you put me in touch with whoever sold you the item?’
An address crept across the screen.
‘Luis: try to stay away from Swan.’
I have to find her. She needs help.
The Doctor scratched at his forehead with his thumbnail. ‘I wish I could tell him that the craving he’s feeling will pass.
But it’s possible his brain has already been permanently restructured.’
‘You’re not talking about brainwashing, are you,’ said Peri. ‘You mean more like brain surgery.’
‘I’m afraid I do.’
There was something so fundamentally vile and butcher’s-shop about that. For a moment, I could actually believe that aliens were behind the whole thing, monsters who were happy to play with the most private of human offal.
‘This guy should be in the hospital,’ said Bob.
‘I doubt very much that they would be able to help him.’
The Doctor typed, ‘Stay put. I give you my word we will track down Swan and take the stolen goods away from her.’
You have to give it back to me.
Before the Doctor could answer,
i need help.
Ritchie was a spot on the map somewhere near Frostburg, just outside the fog belt, surrounded by low and stony mountains carpeted with snowy trees. US 40 narrowed to two lanes as we drove past clapboard houses and brick boxes. We passed a red Amish barn. ‘Hex sign,’ noted the Doctor, making Bob sink a little deeper into his seat.
We arrived that night, parked the Travco on a bit of disused gravel between the railway line and the old canal.
B&O coal-hoppers clanked past, leaving dark lines where the rails cut through the Christmas snow. The next morning I stood outside the van, pulling hot smoke into my lungs, taking in the view. You could see from one side of the town clear to the other, the way I could see right across Canberra as a kid. It was just the place for an alien invasion.
You want to know how small Ritchie is? The local Mickey D’s has only one arch out the front. I’m serious – it’s tucked into an awkward bit of land between two intersecting narrow roads. The building is shaped like a slice of pie and there’s only enough room for one of the golden humps.
We headed inside for camelburgers and hot coffee. The Doctor refused to sully his palate with the stuff, but he quizzed the server about anything interesting that had happened around town.
I summoned my courage and called Trina to apologise for missing her birthday. I tried to explain that I really had been incommunicado all this time, that I was following up the story she had given me, but it only made her madder. ‘You could have called me if you had just remembered to,’ she said. There was no arguing back to that. She gave me quite an earful. I tried imagining her in her underwear, but that didn’t really help.
The Doctor joined us at the cramped plastic table. ‘There’s something the matter with that young woman,’ he said.
I craned my neck. She was a redhead with a shape even the Scottish Restaurant’s uniform couldn’t ruin. ‘She looks just fine to me.’
For once, the Doctor said nothing. I strolled over to the counter, where the lady in question was waiting for her next customer. She didn’t seem to see me coming, her eyes focussed on the blank plastic in front