Doctor Who_ Nightshade - Mark Gatiss [13]
without another word. Ace shrugged and walked after him,
‘Found what?’
but he was covering ground at such an extraordinary rate Just to one side of them was a large, pearl-grey door, that she found herself racing to keep up with the little man.
indented with the usual roundel pattern but possessed of a
‘Where are we going, Professor?’
big, old-fashioned doorknob.
‘There’s something I want you to see,’ the Doctor called The Doctor bent down a little and slowly, almost over his shoulder.
reverently, opened the door.
And so they plunged deeper and deeper into the heart of Ace stepped back a little as a wave of icy air hit her face.
the TARDIS, taking in more shuttered rooms, alcoves and Then another sensation seemed to steal over her. A deep niches than Ace had seen in her short life. There were and profound stillness. She was reminded of her first visit to occasional delights and surprises: a big red room entirely church as a child when the sense of ritual and holiness full of hats, a patch of what appeared to be open almost overwhelmed her.
countryside (which she could only presume the Doctor The room beyond the door had six crumbling stone walls, reserved for picnics) and a glimpse of the vast, mahogany-their solid roundels dappled by a warm green light. In the panelled TARDIS library. Ace stared in disbelief at the centre stood a massive granite console, elaborately carved 38
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like a Gothic altar. Nests of tiny, winking instrumentation The Doctor said nothing.
crowded its pillars and panels.
Ace turned her attention to the rest of the room. In a corner, where clumps of wisteria were winding their way up the wall, she discovered a full-length mirror mounted on a beautiful ebony stand. She grinned at herself in the mottled silver surface.
Hanging from and scattered about the old mirror were masses of clothes. This must be some of the Doctor’s centuries of junk, thought Ace. She glanced over at him but he was absorbed in his work. Shrugging, she picked up a few garments and held them in front of her.
There was a big brown duffel coat of the type the Doctor was fond of wearing, a thick donkey jacket, a funny red thing which looked like a Roman toga (and probably was), several pairs of gloves, five collapsible opera hats and a tweed waistcoat splashed and stained with green ink.
Ace pulled a face. Then her eyes alighted on a rather drab
‘It’s like sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool,’ she grey tunic. There was a little badge embroidered on the said, gazing at the arched ceiling in awe.
apron and Ace smiled as she recognised it. As quickly as The Doctor was already busy at the console, checking that possible, she struggled into the garment and turned to face the antiquated machinery was still operational.
the Doctor.
‘It has a certain charm, I suppose,’ he said grudgingly.
‘Ta, da!’ she announced happily.
‘But it always seemed too tucked away for ready use.’
‘Hmm?’
‘What is it?’
Ace smiled hopefully. ‘Gross, isn’t it?’
‘Tertiary console room. Not bad, eh?’
The Doctor’s face set in a rigid frown.
‘Not bad? It’s beautiful!’
‘Take it off,’ he said in a quiet, dangerous voice.
The Doctor seemed to be warming to his theme which
‘What?’
pleased Ace immeasurably.
‘Take it off.’ snapped the Doctor, swinging back to the
‘Oh yes,’ he said, fussing over the console, ‘a little spatial console.
relocation and we can call this...’
Ace stared dumbly at the Doctor’s back. She took off the He paused and began to stare into space again.
tunic in embarrassed silence and laid it down carefully by
‘Home?’ volunteered Ace.
the mirror.
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‘Sorry,’ she said in a hoarse whisper.
The Doctor was all smiles now. What the hell was the The Doctor’s back remained obstinately turned towards matter with him?
her.
A picture began to form on the scanner but it was vague
‘If you don’t want me to muck about, Professor...’
and hazy.
‘Doctor! I’m the Doctor! How many times do I have to tell