Doctor Who_ Camera Obscura - Lloyd Rose [70]
* * *
Fitz was sober by the time Anji got him back to the flat, and they discussed the situation unhappily.
‘Sabbath’s right, you know,’ said Fitz after they’d gone around the issue for an hour. ‘The Doctor couldn’t have counted on his having finished his biodata thingy.’
‘We only have Sabbath’s word he hasn’t finished it. Maybe he’s lying. Maybe he even has other ways to find the Doctor he’s not telling us about.’
‘Well, the Doctor would have allowed for that, wouldn’t he? I mean, he knows him better than anyone.’
She threw herself into an armchair. ‘The Doctor’s landed us in a mess again.’
‘He’s in a mess too, probably.’
‘Which is a big part of why we’re in a mess.’
Neither of them said anything for a while.
‘Suppose there’s any cake left?’ Fitz asked finally.
‘How can you think about cake now?’
‘It would help me think about other things,’ he said defensively. ‘It’s late, Anj. My mind’s like glue.’
‘Which differs from its usual state in what way exactly?’
Before he could reply, they heard the downstairs door open and shut, then a heavy tread on the stair.
‘Guess who?’ she said bleakly.
The door to the landing was open, and in a few seconds Sabbath filled it, wearing an elegant frock coat and carrying a top hat and gold-handled cane. He looked around the room. ‘How ironic to pick the lock of this particular house.’
‘Why?’ said Fitz.
Sabbath just smiled infuriatingly. ‘You’ve decided to let me into the TARDIS, of course.’
Fitz glanced at Anji.
‘We don’t have much choice,’ she mumbled.
‘Then let us proceed.’
The three of them just managed to squeeze into the lumber room with the TARDIS. Anji fitted the spare key in the lock and pushed open the door. ‘Go ahead,’ she said ungraciously. Sabbath stepped forward and stopped. ‘Well, go on.’
‘Something is preventing me,’ he said coolly.
Anji and Fitz exchanged puzzled glances. Fitz ducked past Sabbath and through the door. ‘No problem,’ he called from the illusory darkness that shielded the console room from outside view.
‘Try again,’ Anji told Sabbath.
‘I assure you,’ he replied, an edge in his voice, ‘I cannot move forward.’
Fitz popped back out. ‘Want me to give you a shove?’
‘No,’ said Sabbath.
‘What I think,’ Fitz said helpfully, ‘is that the Doctor’s set up an exclusionary field keyed to your biodata readings: Only makes sense, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ murmured Sabbath. ‘It’s exactly what I would have done.’
‘Oh, well, that’s it then,’ said Anji sarcastically. He turned his dark eyes on her.
‘You’re behaving very immaturely, Miss Kapoor.’
‘I’ve seen your future, you know. In the 1990s. You’re an opening act on the third-rate hip-hop circuit and your rap handle is Fatboy Phat.’
Sabbath stared at her in complete Incomprehension.
‘Maybe I could go and get this thing for you,’ Fitz put in quickly.
‘Do you know what it looks like?’
‘Well, no.’
‘Have you any idea where it might be?’
‘Erm, not really.’
‘And how many rooms would you say the TARDIS has?’
‘Ah, no idea, actually.’
Sabbath nodded and started back down the stairs. ‘I need to get back to work.’
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
The Doctor woke up with a plump, soft pillow under his head. This was a surprise. Also a nice change. Maybe he was dreaming. Certainly his mind was sliding from thought to thought in a careless, unedited manner that he associated with dreams. In which case, maybe he should just keep on with it. But even as he thought this, reality pushed in harder, and his body, heavy and sick-feeling, seemed to snap shut around his consciousness like a cage. He groaned and opened his eyes. They were dry, and stung; he blinked rapidly several times until he could see comfortably.
He was lying on an old four-poster bed. The room was plain, wainscotted about a third of the way up and whitewashed above that. There was a single window, a fireplace, and a wooden armchair. A washbasin and chamber