Doctor Who_ Interference_ Book One - Lawrence Miles [4]
Typical Time Lord. Always trying to fiddle with the props.
‘Is it safe to leave it up there?’ he asked.
I.M. Foreman shrugged. ‘Nobody’s likely to steal it.’
‘Not even the High Council?’
‘They wouldn’t dare. “Hell bath no fury”.’ She pulled at his arm, forcing him through the trees and into the woods. ‘Anyway, things have been happening to you, that’s what you said. Like what?’
The Doctor finally tore his eyes away from the hill, and started making ‘umm’ noises, obviously trying to work out where he should start.
‘Earth,’ he announced, in the end. ‘I was on Earth. In the twentieth century. I met up with some old acquaintances.’
‘You mean some old acquaintances from Dust.’
‘I’m afraid so. It was a few months ago, on my timeline. Just around the time when I lost Sam.’
‘Sam?’
The Doctor kept his eyes fixed on the woodland floor as they walked, taking care not to tread on any of the snakes that were nesting in the leaves there. I.M. Foreman got the impression he was doing his best not to tread on any of the leaves, if he could help it. ‘Sam was a very good friend of mine,’ he explained. ‘Someone who helped me a lot, after my last regeneration. Someone I think I’m going to miss a great deal.’
‘And this Sam person,’ I.M. Foreman cut in, before he could start getting wistful on her. ‘You think he’s connected to what happened on Dust? Is that it?’
‘She,’ said the Doctor. ‘“Sam” as in “Samantha”.’
‘Oh, I see. I’m sorry, I’ve just read The Lord of the Rings. “Sam” makes me think of little hairy people with funny accents.’
The Doctor stopped walking. I.M. Foreman stopped, too.
‘The Lord of the Rings?’ he queried.
‘That’s what I said. Is there a problem?’
‘No. It’s a bit of a coincidence, though. Fitz was talking about The Lord of the Rings the first time I… well, never mind. Not important.’
‘Fitz,’ I.M. Foreman repeated. ‘Let me guess. Another travelling companion? You only had the one back on Dust.’
‘Three heads are better than two. But it’s so hard to find the staff. Do you read a lot of books these days?’
He hadn’t changed that much, thought I.M. Foreman. His conversations were still all over the place. ‘I’m starting to see the benefit in cultural experience,’ she told him, trying to sound like she meant it. ‘I’ve been concentrating on biology for too long. Building new bodies for myself is fine, but every time I get a new brain I have to fill it with something.’
‘So what did you think?’
‘Lord of the Rings? Too long. My attention span only stretches to about three hundred pages. I liked the last line, though.’
The Doctor frowned. ‘Just the last line.’
‘It’s the details that make things interesting. Let’s stick to the subject, all right? You were telling me about Sam. Sam‐as‐in‐Samantha.’
The Doctor cast his eyes around the woods, and finally detached himself from I.M. Foreman’s arm. He was looking for a clearing, she realised. He probably wanted a picnic.
‘Time to sit down, I think,’ he told the world in general. ‘Now I’ve got all that pacing out of my system.’
I.M. Foreman tugged at his sleeve. ‘This way. There’s a good spot another hundred yards in. And in the meantime, keep talking.’
* * *
He didn’t. He kept changing the subject while they walked, going off at tangents and asking her thinly veiled personal questions about life on Foreman’s World. When they finally sat down, in the middle of a clearing where the branches kept out just enough light to make the spot both warm and dark, I.M. Foreman noticed two deer hovering between the trees nearby. The deer just stood there, watching the Doctor through their little wet eyes and ignoring I.M. Foreman completely. The Doctor started calling to them as soon as he was settled on his carpet of leaves, making kissy noises and beckoning with his fingers. The deer looked at him as if he were mad.
‘Sam,’ I.M.