Doctor Who_ Wonderland - Mark Chadbourn [44]
He noticed the gun. 'Come now, that won't solve anything.'
'I'm not trying to solve things.'
He tutted, motioned for me to put the gun down. Outside, a car door slammed.
'Who are you?'
'We met a long time ago, by your terms. In San Francisco, 1967.'
He could have been any one of a hundred forgotten hippies, but I recognised some indefinable quality. 'Doctor?' He smiled. 'How... ?'
'Long story. No time for it now.'
He motioned for me to follow. I felt like I'd stepped into some strange dream, or else I was on another trip; and perhaps I was, one that had started more than thirty years earlier. The gun hung limply at my side as I trailed into the spare bedroom. If I'd had the slightest doubt, it disappeared then: that freaky police box stood in one corner.
'Ben and Polly?'
'Long gone, I'm afraid.'
A rattling at the door downstairs.
'Why are you here?' I asked, dazed.
'For you, Summer. After the Colour-Beast was freed, I came looking, but you weren't to be found anywhere. Frankly, I feared the worst. It took a remarkable effort to locate you.' He smiled again. 'But it was worth it.'
'You searched for me? But you never seemed like you were interested in my problems at all. You were always telling me to give up ... when you could be bothered to talk to me at all.'
He gave a silent laugh; despite the darkness of the moment and my mood, I felt oddly comforted by his presence. 'We have to find our own path,' he said. 'If I did all the hard work for you, you'd never have appreciated it.'
The faint sound of the lock clicking. I glanced back at the landing, then at gun.
His eyes grew concerned, and the smile faded. 'I know what you're going through, Summer.'
'How could you possibly?'
'I know many things, Summer. A great many things.'
A blast of cold air as the front door opened silently.
'All I wanted was a better world.' My voice broke. 'But there's nothing anyone can do. They'll win every time!'
He shook his head. 'All those years ago, I told you how it works. From your perspective, things look dark. But over the span of centuries, of millennia, there is a different – a better – view.'
I shook my head in disbelief, tears filling my eyes so I could barely see him. 'Why did you come here, Doctor?'
Footsteps crossing the hall, checking the downstairs rooms. It felt like a shadow had fallen across me.
'Why?' l blinked away the tears and was surprised by the compassion
in his face. Suddenly I felt like a child again, looking up at my father. 'The universe needs people like you more than you would ever know, Summer. You must never give in to despair. You – and people like you – are important. Special. You can make a difference.'
'You've seen them –'
'You can, Summer.' He pulled a book from inside his jacket: The Secret Government – an investigation of the corruption at the heart of America. By Jack Stimson.
Footsteps on the stairs now, the darkness drawing closer.
'When was this published?' I asked in amazement.
'Next year.' He smiled. 'There's always hope, Summer. You just have to keep your head up during the dark times.'
'Why are you helping me, Doctor? Why me?'
He shook his head, wide-eyed with exasperation. 'Why? Because I like you, that's why!' He nodded to the gun. 'You won't be needing that.'
Footsteps on the landing, my desperate past catching up with me. I threw the gun on to a chair.
'Now, shall we go on a little journey?' He stood aside and motioned to that weird little police box. Through the open door, the most brilliant golden light glowed. I looked into his face, briefly, and saw such honesty and hope and innocence there that I was appalled by how much I'd previously misjudged him. 'Thank you,' I said, blinking away the tears.
'Oh, don't mention it.'
We stepped into the light together.
My first impressions were right about the Doctor, if only I'd stuck by them. Whatever he claims to be, I know the truth. It's there for anyone to see: he comes