Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [62]
full of light and laughter and videogames and chocolate. And then someone came along and said, “That’s not really your house, Calamee. That’s your house.” And they pointed down the road to a sinister-looking mansion, all shuttered up. So, curious, you wandered up to the gate – and a huge, vicious dog came charging down the path, barking madly. You could see bats and vultures circling over the house. You’re scared, but you’re curious. You borrow a friend’s telescope and for a few weeks you try to peer in through the dirty windows, trying to get a clue about what’s in there: you can see shadows and 113
hear screams, late at night, from inside the house. And then the man comes back and asks you if you want the key. Only he tells you that once you enter the house, you can never return to the lovely, happy home you live in now.
Oh, your friends and family can come with you: but what if they don’t like your old house? What if they decide they don’t want to live there with you any more?’ The Doctor realised how hard he was gripping Calamee’s arms, and let go of her. ‘And you were stuck in that dark, haunted house – alone, forever. What would you do? Would you take that chance?’
Calamee looked into his eyes, her lips slightly parted. ‘That’s different,’ she eventually said, and the Doctor felt her sag a little in his hands.
‘No, it’s not. And I think you know it. I like who I am. As Madame Xing pointed out, we recreate ourselves from day to day. The person I am now is not the person I was yesterday. And I don’t want to be the person I was a hundred years ago.’ He smiled at her solemn expression. ‘All that teenage acne and having to tidy my bedroom.’
Calamee’s eyes drifted away from his, across the rooftops, the towers and the spires picked out in the bronze of the streetlights and the silver of the stars. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Point taken. But I’m still not going home. Now come on.
Let’s find this TARDIS of yours.’
Calamee took his hand and the two of them strode off through Saiarossa’s jubilant streets.
Fitz knew it was a dream, but it was no less disturbing for that.
He was standing in the TARDIS console room, facing the main doors. And he was naked. That wouldn’t normally have bothered him, apart from the fact that he could feel something cool touching his buttocks. The fact that he knew it was another pair of buttocks was slightly disturbing. But knowing –
in the way that you do in dreams – that they were the Doctor’s buttocks was just too much.
But, of course, as it was a dream, there was nothing he could do. He was rooted to the spot, rubbing bottoms with the Doctor.
‘Doctor,’ he said in the awkward way that you do when you’re cheek to cheek with your best friend. ‘I take it that this is all very symbolic.’
‘Don’t worry, Fitz,’ said the Doctor, a hint of a smile in his voice, from behind Fitz’s head. ‘I don’t think it’s what it looks like. Or feels like.’
‘That’s a relief,’ said Fitz. ‘Not that you don’t have a very nice bottom, but. . .
you know. . . ’
‘It’s OK, Fitz. I don’t think this is your subconscious telling you anything about your sexuality.’
‘Pleased to hear it. So what’s it all about? I mean, it is a dream, isn’t it? It’s not one of those virtual reality things. Again. I’m not suddenly going to find 114
myself swashbuckling all over the place, and challenging you to a duel for the hand of a fair maiden, am I?’
‘I suspect not, Fitz. Although, seeing as I’m just part of your dream, I wouldn’t know any more than you.’
They stood in silence for a while, as a herd of zebras quietly passed through the console room and vanished in the direction of Trix’s bedroom.
‘She’s not going to be pleased,’ the Doctor commented drily.
They stood in expectant silence for a while.
‘So,’ said Fitz eventually, trying not to notice that