Doctor Who_ The Bodysnatchers - Mark Morris [6]
Like and yet unlike. The incorruptibly good and the indescribably evil. Flip-sides of the same coin. Dark thoughts, Doctor. Dark thoughts.
'This won't do at all!' he exclaimed suddenly, snatching up what remained of the magazine and flinging it back on to the reading table. He jumped up, a tall, lithe, youthful figure, dashing in his frock coat, wing-collared shirt and grey cravat, patterned waistcoat and narrow-legged trousers. In a sudden flurry of energy, he dashed from the library, passing innumerable shelves stacked with all manner of books and periodicals, before reaching an innocuous-looking door propped open with a dog-eared copy of The Ripple Effect by Anton Bocca. He catapulted through the door, passed yet more shelves, and finally leapt down on to the parquet floor of the console room.
This was a vast Gothic cathedral of a place, dominated by a six-sided console that managed to look both quaintly archaic and awesomely advanced.The Doctor jumped up on to the raised dais surrounding the console and began to flick switches, push buttons and pull levers, his hands a blur of movement.
Coordinates set, he glanced up at the monitor screen, which he had reconfigured to resemble an early TV set from his beloved Earth. The screen flickered and then stabilised:
DESTINATION - LONDON, EARTH
LOCAL DATELINE - 11.01.1894
Victorian era
'Just time for a quick cup of tea before we arrive,' the Doctor announced, clapping his hands together.
'Wha-?' said Sam blearily, contorting her face in an effort to open one sleep-gummed eye. When she finally managed it, the Doctor was gone, leaving behind a steaming cup of tea on her bedside table, and an outfit carefully laid out on the high-backed wicker chair in the corner of the room.The outfit consisted of a coral-coloured jacket with puffed sleeves, blue bloomers, black Victorian boots and a straw boater-type hat with a coral-coloured band.
Sam considered ignoring the intrusion, turning over and going back to sleep, but hadn't the Doctor said something about arriving somewhere, and wouldn't it be just like him to go off and explore without her if she didn't get a move on? She sat up in her sumptuous four-poster bed, stretched, yawned, and ran a hand through her short blonde hair, making it stand up in spikes. She reached for the china cup and took a gulp of hot tea, immediately closing her eyes in satisfaction.The Doctor made the best cup of tea she'd ever tasted. Knowing him, he probably grew his own leaves or something.
She allowed herself a couple of minutes to come to, looking idly around her room. With its wood-panelled walls, impressive furniture and rich fabrics, it looked like something off the telly, like a set from one of those BBC
historical things - Pride and Prejudice or something. The Doctor had told her the room had once belonged to Nyssa, whoever she was, but that it had been 'restructured' a bit since then.
Finishing her tea, she put the cup aside, then flung back her covers and crossed to the wicker chair, enjoying the feel of the plush carpet beneath her bare feet. On top of the pile of clothes was a small white business card with a weird symbol on it, and written beneath the symbol, in beautiful copperplate script, were the words:Wear Me.
Sam bridled. No 'please', no 'would you mind?', no 'I know this sniff isn't really your style, but'. God, it was just like being at home again. No, actually, it wasn't, because at least Mum and Dad encouraged her to express herself, speak her own mind, assert her individuality.
She knew she was being unfair, that the Doctor never asked -told - her to do anything without a reason, but it was the way he went about things that got her back up sometimes. She eyed the clothes she had peeled off and dumped on the floor before crawling into bed - ratty jeans, Chumbawamba T-shirt, loose-knit purple and grey striped jumper, green plastic lace-up boots with an orange sun symbol painted on them that she had found in the TARDIS boot cupboard - and thought: I'll wear them if I want, and