Doctor Who_ The Stone Rose - Jacqueline Rayner [61]
‘Oh, yes,’ she was told. ‘Elves, pixies, gnomes – the Moomins, Chorlton and the Wheelies, SpongeBob SquarePants – they all tried to invade you at some point. There was a galactic inquiry when Robocop came out. And as for the five famous justices of the future who disguised themselves as four children and a dog (although I think the dog was a mistake) in order to wipe out the crimes of kidnapping and smuggling for all eternity – well, I think they’re still trapped in a time loop somewhere with nothing but ginger beer and potted‐meat sandwiches to sustain them. Not to mention Miss Marple – Miss Martian, more like. Used her truth ray to get all those confessions until the Time Police tracked her down. Zapped her and the whole of St Mary Mead out of existence. Which is a shame, because there was a lovely little cafe in the high street where they did brilliant custard tarts.’
‘Is that true?’ Vanessa gasped.
‘No,’ said Rose. ‘You learn to ignore about one word in five he says. I mean, he was pretending to be Poirot earlier. He’s in that sort of mood.’
The Doctor wrinkled up his nose at her.
‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘what are we going to do now?’
No one answered for a moment. Then Vanessa said, ‘I can’t go home.’
‘Why not?’ Rose asked.
‘You heard what the Doctor said! I’ll be condemning the Earth to death!’
‘Not you,’ said the Doctor. ‘The GENIE. It’s the GENIE who can’t go back.’
‘You mean I can –’ She broke off, looking at the little scaly creature in its dog‐eared cardboard box. ‘But how? And surely the GENIE can’t stay here. Look at the trouble it’s caused already.’
All the arrogance had drained out of the GENIE. ‘Please,’ it said sadly, ‘please make another wish. Wish for me to be erased from existence. If I serve no purpose…’
‘But we can’t do that,’ Rose told it. ‘They built in a fail‐safe or something. The Doctor said.’
‘And even if we could, we wouldn’t,’ said the Doctor briskly. ‘Serve no purpose? You bring about people’s greatest desires! All we have to do is find some people whose wishes are less… destructive.’
‘But how?’ said Vanessa again.
Rose had caught on. ‘Same way we’re gonna get you home,’ she said. ‘In our handy time machine.’
‘And talking of time…’ The Doctor looked up at the sky, judging the sun’s position. ‘What day is this?’
‘Er… Friday?’ said Rose, unsure.
‘I mean the date. How long was I stone for?’
Rose thought. ‘It’s the day after Ursus you‐knowed me.’
‘The 19th. The Quinquatrus. So that means I’m arriving in Rome about now.’ He frowned. ‘Have to be very careful. Could be catastrophic if I were to meet myself.’
‘Something catastrophic?’ Rose commented. ‘That’ll make a change. Are we going back to Rome, then? Is that where the TARDIS is?’
‘No. Well, yes. Both. For the purposes of not destroying the time lines, however, the TARDIS we want is just outside Gracilis’s villa. But we do have to get to Rome in the next, ooh, eight hours.’
‘Why?’
He didn’t answer directly. ‘Do you have that phial of liquid?’ he asked.
‘Yeah.’ She got it out. It was still nearly full. ‘But we’ don’t need it any more, do we? Everyone’s sorted, and Ursus is dead.’
“Everyone’s sorted”, are they? What about Optatus, and all the other victims?’
‘But you said you’d done them.’
The Doctor leaned forward, making his point. ‘I haven’t “done” them yet. In fact, I don’t even have that miracle cure yet.’ He indicated the small glass container. ‘I am given a nearly full phial of that liquid in about eight hours’ time.’
That time Rose got it. ‘Oh. Right. How long will it take to get to Rome from here, then?’
‘About twenty hours.’
‘And if we don’t get there in eight, the whole of causality will implode or something.’
‘But,’ put in Vanessa, ‘didn’t you just say you had a time machine back at the villa?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Rose. ‘So we do.’
* * *
The TARDIS materialised in an alcove at the back of the shrine of Fortuna. ‘Here we are,’ said the Doctor. ‘It’s 19 March, ad 120, about six p.m.’
Rose frowned. ‘But you’re going to be out there in a minute! You said it would be catastrophic if you met yourself.’