Doctor Who_ The Dying Days - Lance Parkin [18]
The Time Lord bounced around the console. After a second's consideration he chose one of the panels and began to flick switches and twist dials. As Benny stepped up to join him a holographic frame materialised at head height between them, filled with static.
'With this, the TARDIS can tune in to every television channel broadcasting on Earth at this moment.' The Doctor had his head down, trying to stabilise the picture.
'What, even the mucky ones?' Benny said, leaning forward. Image after image started to flash up on the screen, too fast to decipher all but a handful: the Pyramids; Dale Winton with Japanese subtitles; riots on the Falls Road; Greedo firing first; a smiling Xhosa woman; James Bond diving after a plane in freefall; tanks in the desert; Batman knocking out the Riddler with a 'KA-POW!'.
'I've established the search parameters.'
The picture quickly settled on one of the American 24-hour news channels. An attractive young blonde was standing in the morning sunshine introducing a pair of men somewhere between three and four times her age. Her voice and manner weren't quite as annoying as some of her contemporaries, and suggested that there was a lot more to her than hair lacquer and lip-gloss.
' -ermass and Patrick Moore, two of the leading British space experts from that pioneering era. Professor, if I could start with you: you must be very proud?'
He was in his eighties, the tweed suit he wore wasn't much younger.
'Must I? We could have done al this twenty years ago. Forty years ago. We chose not to: space is a Pandora's Box and we shouldn't open it until we've sorted out our problems down here. Think of all the setbacks, all those hundreds of millions of dol ars, roubles and pounds which exploded on launch pads, crashed into the sea or never come back from that void. Remember the dozens of people that died. Then you decide whether all this is worth it just to plant a flag in some radioactive rust. Space isn't the final frontier, you know. Earth is a tiny planet, surrounded by an infinite night, and out there are unimagined horrors.'
He was waving his finger upwards by this point. The interviewer had been shrewd enough to give the Professor enough rope to hang himself with: by the end of his speech he was ranting and almost out of breath. He'd reduced himself to an indignant old fool, live in front of tens of millions of viewers. Benny glanced over at the Doctor, who was rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
'Mr Moore, do you agree? After twenty years away from space, why pour so much money into it now?'
19
Benny recognised the seasoned television performer, but even if she hadn't she would have admired the professionalism of a man who had been asked foolish questions by young journalists many, many times over the years. When he spoke, he paused between sentences, allowed everything he said to sink in.
'The Professor's views are well known. I disagree with the idea that mankind has ever been away from space.
Your American viewers won't know me. I present an astronomy programme for the BBC that celebrated its fortieth anniversary last month. Back when The Sky at Night started, manned space flight was still only the dream of people like Bernard, here. Since then, the moonshots, and the Mars missions have been and gone and things have seemed pretty quiet. But in reality, so much has happened in the last twenty years. Just think: you are only able to broadcast this programme across the Atlantic thanks to the communications satel ites that ring the Earth.
They may be less dramatic than the old manned mission, but the space shuttle and the Zeus and Ariane programmes have made local space travel a matter of routine.'
'But we've not been travelling to other planets anymore?'
'The Hubble Telescope and Voyager probes have allowed us to explore our little corner of the universe. Only last year we got the first sight of the surface of Pluto. Space research has concentrated on improving our life on