Doctor Who_ The Room With No Doors - Kate Orman [101]
‘Yes, Doctor,’ said Joel.
‘Good. Second stop, 1883.’
‘It does not look particularly comfortable,’ said Penelope. She brushed her fingers across the pseudoflaking blue paint. ‘I assume this is some variety of disguise, though it seems inappropriate for this period. . . ’
The Doctor extracted the TARDIS key from his hat. ‘You did insist on seeing my time conveyance,’ he said.
‘I had expected something more awesome,’ she teased.
‘Ah well,’ said the Doctor. ‘You can’t always get what you want.’
Joel laughed, somewhere behind them. The Doctor shot him a look, and the laughter faded into a grin. The Doctor put a finger to his lips and opened the TARDIS door. ‘Do come in,’ he said.
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Penelope gave him a suspicious look, and went inside.
The Doctor and Joel waited outside. After a couple of minutes, the Doctor took out his pocket watch and opened it. Joel tried to peek at the odd workings, but the Time Lord quietly closed the watch before he could see it.
Another couple of minutes passed. Joel glanced at the Doctor. ‘She’s probably worked out how to fly it by now.’
‘Hmm.’ The Doctor pushed open the door. Before Joel could follow him in, he held up a finger. ‘Wait here,’ he said.
Joel stood outside the time vessel, nervously hoping it wouldn’t suddenly leave without him. After another minute, he couldn’t stand it any longer.
Somehow, the size difference didn’t bother him at all. He’d heard too many descriptions. He took in the clinical whiteness of the place, the primitive-looking controls of the central console, the hum that filled the cool, flavourless air.
Penelope was standing before the console, tears pouring down her face.
The Doctor was standing nearby, holding a chair, looking as though he only half knew what to do.
Joel just watched the odd tableau for a minute or two, Penelope crying silently, the Doctor holding the chair an inch off the ground and looking hope-lessly lost.
Joel took the chair out of the Time Lord’s hands. The Doctor shook himself, suddenly, putting a hand on the console and watching as Joel positioned the chair behind Penelope. He took her hand and lowered her into the seat.
The Doctor fished through his pockets, discarding three handkerchiefs before he found an unsullied one, and passed it to her. She blew her nose, loudly, and waved the hanky around, speechless.
‘Forgive me,’ began the Doctor gruffly, ‘if –’
‘There is nothing to forgive,’ announced Penelope. She blew her nose again, and said more clearly, ‘I could not have conceived of any machine so, so. . .
Doctor, you – or rather, those responsible for this craft’s construction – have not only conquered the dimensions, but are advanced far beyond my capacity to comprehend. For any human being to comprehend.’
‘Oh, come on,’ said Joel. ‘It looks like you built it from a kit.’ He reached out to touch one of the low-tech controls, but the Doctor slapped his fingers away. Joel decided not to say anything more, loath to find himself floating home, but he couldn’t get the grin off his face.
Penelope had sprung up from the chair and was pacing around the console, peering at everything, careful not to touch any of the controls. ‘How is the internal dimensional configuration maintained?’ she wondered. ‘For that matter, how many spatial dimensions are involved in the displacement process? Are there limits to the temporal distance that can be covered in a single 208
transit?’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘You’re worse than Albert,’ he said. He patted the console, reassuringly. ‘All right, old girl. Let’s take this lady inventor – and this ungrateful fanboy – for a spin.’
He winked at them, and they grinned back like a couple of kids.
Kame raised the sake flask and waved it vaguely at Chris, who was a comfortable pile against one wall of the inn. The Adjudicator held out his cup, and somehow, with considerable effort by the two of them, it was filled again.
‘I must enjoy this while I can,’ said