Doctor Who_ Empire of Death - BBC Worldwide [9]
'Well?' the phantom asked, a smug smile of self-satisfaction evident on its features. Real or not, the ghost certainly displayed several of Adric's less likeable traits.
'The TARDIS seems to think you are what you claim to be,'
the Doctor replied. 'Let's say we also believe in you, for the moment. Why have you come here?'
'To extend an invitation. A beckoning, if you like.'
'To what?' I asked.
'We need your help. I was chosen as your spirit guide for what is to come.'
'Why should we believe you?'
The ghost began walking towards the central console. 'To have belief, you must first have faith.'
'Faith is the province of theologians and the religious. I believe in science,' the Doctor replied, watching as Adric walked through the console like a - well, like a ghost.
'Science tells you I am real and yet you are still not sure.
Where is your belief now, Doctor?' Adric asked. He paused on the far side of the console room. 'Come to the Other Side -
see for yourself. Then, perhaps, you will believe.' The apparition walked on through the wall of roundels and was gone.
The central rotor began rising and falling again as the remaining instruments surged back into life, their functions restored. After a few seconds the lingering, sickly sweet smell was gone too, leaving just the Doctor and me to ponder the visitation.
'Well, Doctor? Was that Adric or not?'
'I wish I knew,' he admitted. 'Shall we take up his invitation?'
'I want to believe it's true. The chance to see my father again...' My voice choked and I had to stop speaking, my feelings overwhelming me.
The Doctor nodded his understanding. He began resetting the TARDIS controls. 'We encountered the apparition while observing that weakness in the continuum. Therefore it is logical to assume the two are in some way linked. I'll attempt to isolate the nearest space/time co-ordinates to the phenomena and see where that leads us.'
He set about the task while I contemplated the affection in Adric's eyes. It reminded me so strongly of my dead father.
Traken was a reserved culture where emotional displays were frowned upon, where duty and propriety held sway over the heart. But Tremas had never been afraid to show how he felt - wearing his heart on his sleeve, that was how Tegan once described such behaviour. A curious expression, but an apt summation at the same time. If anything I am more like the Doctor than my father, keeping my emotions in check, always holding back.
Having lost so much - my family, my friends, my home world - that involuntary self-control has only become stronger.
The less I feel about something or someone, the less it can hurt when they are lost to me. I find myself building walls around my hurts to protect myself. But am I only imprisoning myself with the pain?
`Nyssa? Nyssa, are you feeling all right?' I realised the Doctor was talking to me, his hands stopped above the central console. 'We don't have to do this if you don't want to.'
`No, it's better that we do,' I said. 'Some things must be faced, no matter how much we might want to turn away.' The Doctor just nodded and set the TARDIS in motion. So began our strangest journey together.
Dr Kirkhope had briefly assessed the Lees boy on the riverbank but could find no obvious physical ailment. With night fast drawing in, he had the two older brothers carry their sibling back to his examining room in the village. Kirkhope then sent the lads to fetch their parents, giving him a chance to study the boy's condition.
Plainly young James had been close to drowning after some swimming accident. The boy had twice coughed up water on the journey and babbled in a tongue unfamiliar to the physician. The brothers claimed James was trapped underwater for several minutes, so by rights he should be dead. But his circulation was strong and his breathing steady, if shallow. Kirkhope found the eyes most disturbing. The pupils were like pinpricks, as if they had been exposed to a blinding light. But that was hardly possible at the bottom of the Clyde.
The doctor knew he was