Doctor Who_ The Room With No Doors - Kate Orman [51]
Mikeneko, Sonchou’s wife, came up to them and bowed to the Doctor. ‘We are ready to set out,’ she said.
‘You won’t be able to keep up with the cab,’ said Penelope. ‘Doctor –’
‘I don’t want them to,’ he said. ‘Mikeneko-san, if the samurai find you, you must tell them everything. Don’t try to protect us. They won’t hurt you – it’s only the pod they want.’
‘Very well, Isha-sama. We should arrive at the monastery tomorrow afternoon.’ Her face was lined and dirty, her eyes shining too brightly. The shock had been forced down inside, Penelope suspected. The feeling of damnation rose in her again, and she turned away.
‘What’s it like?’
The Doctor glanced at Chris, but didn’t answer.
They had been silent for a long time, sitting side by side at the front of the cab. Penelope was inside with her time machine, hopefully getting some sleep.
Chris had slept fine, deeply, dreamlessly, but he still felt washed out. When he tried to think about what had happened yesterday, his mind sort of. . . and he wasn’t sure whether it was some kind of weird shock, or something the Doctor had done.
‘The first time the Doctor said, snapping Chris out of his reverie, ‘I don’t remember, I was unconscious. The second time. . . I don’t want to talk about.’
‘The third time?’
‘Unconscious.’
‘The fourth time?’
‘Atypical. There were some strange time and energy effects involved.’
‘But, you know, what does it feel like? Is it good or bad?’
‘Good,’ said the Doctor, ‘in the same way that driving a vehicle very, very fast is a good feeling, until pow! ’ He slapped his hands together suddenly.
‘Like being shoved through a window. That’s what it was like the fifth time.’
‘What about the sixth time?’
‘Unconscious.’
103
‘But I mean,’ said Chris, ‘and stop me if this is getting too personal –’
‘I will,’ said the Doctor. ‘Ask me now.’ (You might not get another chance, he didn’t add.)
Chris’s heart sank further in the direction of his sandals. ‘How does it feel?
Do you feel good because you realize you’re not going to die?’
‘No.’ The Doctor didn’t look at him, eyes focusing far away, amongst the trees and the pattern of light and shadow. ‘You feel awful, because you know you are going to die. Again.’ An expression flickered over his face for a moment, as though he had remembered something and then forgotten it. ‘With a bit of luck I won’t be awake for the next one either.’
‘But you said. . . ’ But Joel said. ‘You said you knew you were going to regenerate, because you’d found out about one of your future selves.’
‘There are no guarantees,’ said the Doctor sternly. ‘History can change – as well you know. You don’t imagine I go about thinking I’m invulnerable, do you?’
Chris didn’t say anything, fighting off a smile. It went away of its own accord when he thought of the next question.
What would it take to kill you, Doctor?
Chris turned the macabre thought over in his mind. The Doctor did seem invulnerable, the way he was always able to find a way out of impossible situations – or to take whatever damage was thrown at him. If he had the chance to plan or improvise, he’d always be one step ahead of death.
But what if it was something random? Like a stray laser bolt? Something he couldn’t predict or control?
What if it was an accident?
Chris glanced at the Doctor, who was scowling at the path in front of them, deep in thought. And he suddenly realized why the Doctor had been so jittery, so angry, all this time.
He knew it was coming. He knew he was going to be helpless.
Chris suddenly felt terribly sorry for the old bastard.
104
11
Sixteenth-century digital boy
Tuesday 21 May 1996, subjective time
Probably March 1560, local time
Dear Diary,
This seemed like a brilliant idea two weeks ago.
However, when you are actually sitting in a sixteenth century