Doctor Who_ Earthworld - Jacqueline Rayner [1]
Lucky she didn’t have any sort of phobia about circles.
Fitz was still waiting for her when she got back to the console room, and they both followed the Doctor’s path through the doors. To Anji’s surprise it was pleasantly warm outside – just right, in fact, even though there was a bit of a breeze. The sky was almost clear – there was only one biggish cloud, which looked, to her still rather dazed mind, like a giant fluffy white frog – and the sun was nearing its apex. The sun was – just possibly – perhaps, maybe the tiniest fraction smaller than she was used to. But it might not be. She’d never spent a great deal of time solar-gazing, because of the scare stories about losing one’s vision and also because. . . well, what on Earth would have been the point? So. . . it could be somewhere other than twentieth-century Earth, or it could just be her memory playing tricks, trying to persuade her she was seeing something unusual.
She took a deep breath. It certainly smelled like Earth. Although – and this was odd – for some reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on, it reminded her of London more than any wide open space, which wasn’t quite right. But it wasn’t London (obviously), because there were no people, no noise, not even a pigeon.
Just a big blue box. She shook her head, her mind still rebelling at the idea of this museum piece being a space-time machine. Or perhaps it was her sense of style objecting to a space-time machine looking like a museum piece. Really, the TARDIS, seen from the outside, looked absolutely ridiculous. A 1960s British (British? Or just English? Goodness knows) police box, from the days before police radios or mobile phones. Interesting thought. Did the advent of mobile phones help catch more criminals, or help more criminals evade capture? Would her mobile phone work in space (or wherever)? Presumably not.
But what if she were in the future? Phone networks might still be around.
Might as well try it. Just to see.
Anji opened her bag and fished for the slim black phone. No network. Surprise surprise. So they were in the past – or on an alien planet – or, just possibly, in Wales.
The Fluffy Frog in the Sky
7
Fitz wandered over. ‘Ah, a mobile phone,’ he said, in the manner of someone being particularly clever. ‘I used one of those once, you know.’
‘I’m impressed,’ said Anji, deciding to save the demonstration of her Psion organiser for another day. ‘Look, do you know where we are yet? And while I’m on the subject, why exactly does this ultra-fantastic alien space and time ship look like that? Isn’t it a bit embarrassing?’
‘The Doctor,’ said Fitz, ‘is supremely self-confident, and unconcerned with superficial appearances.’
She sighed, irritated. ‘That doesn’t explain anything. Well, it probably does explain some things, but not what I was asking.’
Fitz glanced over to where the Doctor was kneeling on the ground, happily scooping up earth into a small plastic tube. ‘Because he –’ gesturing over there
– ‘once landed it on Earth back in my time – but before my time, if you get me
– and the gizmo that used to make it change so it looked like something people wouldn’t notice, got stuck. Like, it should be a rock or something now. But he likes it like this.’
Anji looked at the guy who ‘likes it like this’. She had the distinct impression that he was pretending not to be listening to Fitz. Trying not to let Fitz know that this was all news to him, too. Maybe wondering exactly why he liked his spaceship looking like a mid-twentieth-century relic. A bit worrying. She shivered.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ she answered, automatically. Then reconsidered. There was something else. . . ‘I think we’re being watched.’
‘That,’ Fitz informed her, ‘is because you’re not used to being out