Doctor Who_ Interference_ Book One - Lawrence Miles [39]
COMPASSION: Through the brainstem. Right.
SAM: And you do whatever the signals tell you? You just pick up anybody’s TV or radio programmes, and do anything they say?
COMPASSION: The signals don’t give us instructions. I told you. We just use them to make decisions.
SAM: Got it. So it’s like using tarot cards. Or flipping a coin. You’re just using random data to make your decisions for you. Except that the random data comes from anywhere. Local radio, satellite TV, anywhere.
COMPASSION: Is there a problem with that?
SAM: Don’t you ever think for yourselves?
COMPASSION: Does anybody?
[Something suddenly seems to strike SAM.]
SAM: Oh God. I’ve just realised. This place. It’s a hotel room, isn’t it?
COMPASSION: So?
SAM: But it looks like… oh, God. That’s it.
COMPASSION: That’s what?
SAM: Everything’s wrong. The way this place looks. The way you’re talking. It’s not real. It doesn’t feel real. It feels like it’s been staged. Can’t you feel it?
[COMPASSION just shrugs.]
SAM: It’s the receiver. [She tries to nod at her own neck, and, not surprisingly fails.] This is what the receiver does to you, isn’t it? It’s not real. It’s just like television. The way I’m seeing everything… the way I’m hearing everything… like it’s been scripted…
COMPASSION: Could be the receiver. I don’t know. Like I said, your transmissions are a lot slower than ours.
SAM [panicking]: Oh God. Oh God. It’s not real. Everything’s there, but the way it looks, it’s –
[Another thought seems to strike her, and she stops babbling. When she speaks again, her voice is much quieter, much more calm.]
SAM: I’ve felt like this before.
* * *
Scene 6. The Attic of Sam’s House
[Flashback, black and white. SAM, aged sixteen, sits curled up against the sloping attic wall. Three of SAM’s FRIENDS – all girls, all about the same age – sit around her. They’re pretending to engage in casual discussion, but they’re actually keeping a close eye on her.]
FRIEND 1: Mark Lessing in the fifth year says it’s not as good as ecstasy. He says he’s been taking it since he was twelve.
FRIEND 2: Mark Lessing’s a lying turd. He’d say anything if he thought it’d make him sound hard.
FRIEND 1: He’s smoked crack, he said. He said it wasn’t as good as coke.
FRIEND 3: You mean, coke coke? Or just Coke?
FRIEND 2: How’s it going, Sam?
[SAM, in the middle of all this, looks confused more than anything else. She’s blinking wildly, paying close attention to the little details around her.]
SAM [panicking]: Oh God. Oh God. It’s not real. Everything’s there, but it’s not real, it’s –
FRIEND 1: She’s not going to throw herself out of the window, is she?
FRIEND 2: Shut up, Ruth.
SAM: It’s like being on television.
FRIEND 1: What did she say?
FRIEND 3: Are you seeing things? Like faces and stuff?
SAM: No, it’s… it doesn’t work like that. I’m not seeing things that aren’t there, it’s just… different. Everything’s different. Everything’s like television.
[We briefly see the scene from SAM’s point of view. The camera angles are distorted, and the picture lurches from side to side. In her eyes, SAM’s FRIENDS all seem to be wearing masks, and some kind of armour, but we cut away before we can make out any details.]
FRIEND 1: If she jumps out of the window, I’m going.
* * *
Scene 7. The Hotel Room
SAM: Everything’s like television. Oh God. Take it off me. Take this thing off me. Now.
COMPASSION: Sorry. Can’t do that.
SAM: Why are you doing this to me?
COMPASSION: We need to know more about you. That’s all.
SAM: You’re torturing me? You think I’ll tell you stuff if you put me through this?
COMPASSION: No. We just want you to talk to us.
SAM [desperate]: Who are you?
COMPASSION: We’re the Remote. It doesn’t matter.
SAM: Why are you here? On Earth? In this time zone? You’re time travellers, aren’t you?You said ‘contemporary’. That means you’re from a different time. I’m right, aren’t I?
COMPASSION [testily]: This isn’t getting us anywhere…
SAM: Why are you here? Why are you trying