Doctor Who_ Prime Time - Mike Tucker [20]
‘What?’
‘You didn’t get into that condition by watching television all hours of the day. You’re not into it like all the others, are you?’
Gatti slumped on to the bed alongside Ace. ‘No,’ she said sadly. ‘No, I never have been. I’ve never been one to sit inside all day, not when there’s so much else to do.’ She smiled. ‘We were the best farmers in the quadrant once.’ Her face dropped.
‘It wasn’t always like this, you know.’
Ace nodded. ‘I know.’
There was a pause. A moment of silence; the endless chatter of programmes banished for a while.
‘What happened, Gatti? How did all this happen?’
The girl shrugged. ‘It wasn’t like it happened overnight.
When they started building the studios everyone thought they were mad, but then when they started transmission there were prizes, I mean big prizes. People became so wealthy and suddenly everyone started watching, desperate not to miss any opportunities.’
She shook her head. ‘Not that there are any opportunities.
To view you have to pay, to pay you have to have credits and these days the only way people are getting credits is by winning on Channel 400 game shows.’
She stared at Ace. ‘Dad used to be a farmer. Owned hundreds of acres of cornfields. Now it’s as much as we can do to get him to step outside the front door.’
Ace held her gaze. ‘They don’t approve of you, do they?
Don’t approve of your lack of interest.’
Gatti shook her head. ‘Would you believe they even tried to get me to a doctor, to see if there was something wrong with me?’ She smiled sadly,‘If it wasn’t so tragic it would be funny.’
Ace smiled at her.
‘So what does a girl do for fun on this planet if she doesn’t watch television?’
Gatti looked at her curiously. ‘Do you like rock climbing?’
The vast boardroom was quiet now, the chairs empty. Vogol Lukos sat before the huge window, drink in hand, staring through the streaming glass at the rain-lashed cornfields.
He was suddenly aware of someone behind him. He turned. Roderik Saarl was standing in the gloom.
‘Roderik, still up at such a late hour? Surely you need to be getting some rest before tomorrow’s show.’
Saarl moved into the light. ‘What are you up to, Lukos?’
Lukos swung his gaze back to the window.
‘Up to, Roderik? Why, whatever do you...’
‘Cut the crap, Lukos. What is the deal with this Doctor?
You’re not interested in making an award-winning documentary. The board might buy it, but I don’t. There’s something you’re not telling me.’
Lukos sat back in his chair, regarding his star with cold eyes. ‘You surprise me, Roderik. Showing some intelligence for once. Sit down.’
Saarl lowered himself into a chair, reaching for the bottle of Treeth. ‘It’s got something to do with these mysterious new clients, hasn’t it?’
‘You don’t need to worry yourself about them, Roderik.
They are my problem and no concern of yours.’ Lukos’ tone was harsh. ‘All you need to know is that ratings are their primary concern. Nothing else matters. Not quality, not standards, just eyes on screens. The Doctor will help us get those ratings. Unique, compelling programming. But he’s not the prize.’
Lukos raised his glass and sipped at his drink.
‘As far as those pathetic bone heaps on the board are concerned “Dr When” is our flagship show. Press coverage will be starting in the next few days, trailers on all the major screens. I’ve even got a planet out on the industrial rim starting to make action figures.’
Lukos turned back to the expanse of cornfields.
‘But somewhere out there is the Doctor’s ship, a Gallifreyan time machine, a TARDIS, and I want it.’
Saarl gave a snort of amusement. ‘Really.’
Lukos leant forward, grasping Saarl’s arm.
‘Think of it, Roderik. Think of what we could do with it.
Interviews with holostars who have been dead for years, new appearances by holostars who have been dead for years. With any event that happens we simply go back in time and get the camera