Doctor Who_ Earthworld - Jacqueline Rayner [46]
‘Fitz!’ The Doctor’s face split into a huge grin. ‘Well, he has made a success of himself.’
‘We’ve been here before,’ said Beezee. ‘These weren’t here then. Just ones of some other old-time bloke – Elvers or something?’
‘Elvis,’ said Anji. ‘Elvers are baby eels. So did they have an Elvis impersonator? Or an Elvis android?’
‘We were here to sabotage the place, not visit the attractions,’ Beezee told her with a sigh, as if it were perfectly obvious. Anji noticed that he reverted to being the rather less attractive snotty kid now they weren’t pulling together in extreme circumstances. Or maybe it was just that now the Doctor was back, she didn’t feel the need to persuade herself she was part of a team.
The Doctor read from his brochure again. ‘ “Why not take in a show? King Elvis performs every night of the week at the Alhambra Theatre, City Centre Street”. Well, shall we assume that that’s where Fitz Fortune is now performing if he’s the new Elvis?’
‘Sounds as good a place to start as any,’ agreed Anji.
They ducked behind the pillar box as a giant, caterpillar-tracked metal monster trundled past, with what seemed to be a postbag hooked over its, for want of a better word, shoulder, and steam-shooting guns blazing away.
‘What on Earth’s that?!’ hissed Anji to the Doctor. ‘It certainly doesn’t come from twentieth-century London!’
‘No idea,’ said the Doctor cheerfully. ‘It’s probably crossed over from another zone. Just keep out of its way.’
They continued on their way, helped by the map in the Doctor’s guidebook, darting between pillar boxes, double-decker buses and miniature rocket ships to make sure they weren’t spotted by the roaming monsters. Finally they reached the – theatre. TONIGHT: FITZ FORTUNE!!!!! screamed the posters outside.
‘This looks like the place!’ said the Doctor. ‘Now, where is he likely to be?’
‘We could go to the stage door and pretend we’re autograph hunters,’ Anji suggested, not entirely seriously.
84
EarthWorld
‘Good plan!’ cried the Doctor. ‘Come on.’
The five of them strolled casually round to the side of the theatre, but as it turned out, no pretence was needed. There was a door, no one was guarding it, and it wasn’t locked.
‘Doesn’t look like he’s being held against his will,’ said Anji. ‘Are you sure he’s going to want to be rescued? If he’s a big star and everything. . . ’
‘Even big stars can be hurt by rampaging dinosaurs,’ said the Doctor. ‘I don’t think he’ll mind.’
They crept down a carpeted corridor, past doors marked ELVIS (DRESSING
ROOM), ELVIS (TROUSERS), ELVIS (BLUE SUEDE SHOES) and ELVIS (WIGS) until they came to the one with a big gold star proclaiming FITZ FORTUNE (DRESSING
ROOM). The Doctor knocked; there was no answer. He tried the door, it was locked. ‘Aha!’ he said.
‘Maybe he’s not in there,’ suggested Xernic. He needn’t have bothered.
The door was secured with an electronic lock (‘Very twentieth-century,’ muttered Anji), and the Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver – obviously, and thankfully, having forgotten that he’d forgotten how to use it. In a few seconds, the door buzzed open.
Fitz was sitting in a corner of the dressing room, arms round his knees and eyes staring, rocking to and fro. Anji was moved to compassion despite herself.
She ran over and knelt beside him. ‘What is it, Fitz? What have they done to you?’
He turned soulless eyes to her. ‘I’m not Fitz,’ he said.
‘What do you mean? Of course you’re Fitz!’ The Doctor was beside them now.
‘I’m not the real Fitz. I’m not a real person. Just leave me.’
‘There’s something definitely wrong,’ said Anji. ‘He hasn’t looked at my cleav-age once. You don’t think he’s a replicant, do you?’
‘Don’t be silly, Anji. And don’t be silly, Fitz!’ The Doctor took hold of Fitz’s left arm and began to help him up. Anji took the other arm. ‘Come on, we’re going to get you out of here.’
Anji preferred to draw a blank over the rest of their journey. Concern for Fitz – he might be an irritating slob, but he was her only link