The Ghosts of N-Space - Barry Letts [13]
complex insides of the piece of electronic equipment he was putting together.
Another voice spoke. ‘What’s N-Space, Doctor?’
The Brigadier looked round. Of course, Miss Smith –
and the boy. ‘Good morning, my dear,’ he said. ‘How are you feeling now?’
‘A lot better for a good night’s sleep,’ she answered. ‘I was just about bombed out of my skull, what with all that brandy and the pill the Doctor gave me. And Signor Callanti has been so kind. We’ve had a super breakfast in that enormous kitchen of his – sort of olive bread, and salami and stuff.’
‘Never seems to have heard of marmalade, though,’ put in Jeremy. ‘Breakfast isn’t breakfast without marmalade.’
‘You have a point,” said the Brigadier. ‘But it’s got to be the right sort of marmalade. The bitter sort.’
The Doctor looked up. ‘Mm. Thick and dark,’ he said.
‘With chunks,’ agreed Sarah.
‘I prefer the jelly stuff myself,’ said Jeremy.
There was a moment of reverential silence as they all remembered past joys.
The Doctor picked up his construction from the table.
‘Come along then,’ he said, severely. ‘No time for chit-chat.’ He started for the door.
45
‘Where are we going?’ asked Sarah, as they hurried after him.
‘To have a peep into N-Space,’ said the Doctor.
When the Doctor said that she might have a glimpse of the creature which had so frightened her the night before, Sarah almost turned on her heel. But when he started to talk about N-Space again, as he led the way through the maze of corridors which led to the rear courtyard, somehow it made it all seem scientific and ordinary.
Apparently every world has a counterpart, intimately connected to it (as close as a pair of clasped hands, the Doctor said). In the normal course of events, it’s impossible to go there, or even to communicate with it, because it’s –
‘– it’s in the fourth dimension!’ said Jeremy brightly.
‘Young man,’ said the Doctor, ‘a lot of nonsense is talked by a lot of people about the fourth dimension – and the fifth and the sixth and the rest, for that matter.’
‘Where is it, then?’ said the Brigadier.
‘Nowhere. Literally. It’s a question you can’t ask.
There’s no ‘where’ for it to be. You see, N-Space isn’t in this Space–Time Continuum at all. That’s how it gets its name. It’s short for Null-Space.’
46
As the Doctor was speaking he was striding through the long, dimly lit stone passageways, never hesitating when offered a choice of several different directions.
‘As I was about to say…’ he went on, and gave Jeremy what Sarah’s Dad used to call a Bite-Your‐Tongue-Off‐First look.
‘Sorry,’ murmured Jeremy and clamped his lips tight.
‘As I was about to say, it’s impossible to go to N-Space in the normal course of events or even to communicate with it because of the discontinuity you might expect between the two worlds, which forms a very effective barrier. It can normally only be crossed by the dying.’
‘And ghosts?’ said the Brigadier.
‘I’ll come to that,’ said the Doctor. ‘You see, every sentient being on Earth has an equivalent N-Body, co-terminous with the ordinary body.’
‘Whatter-howmuch?’ muttered Jeremy.
The Doctor, ignoring him, took the middle way of three possible routes, and continued, ‘When somebody dies, the N-Body goes into N-Space. It often seems like a tunnel of darkness leading to a blissful light –’
‘Oh! I’ve read about that,’ said Sarah. ‘People who’ve died on the operating table – and then brought back to life –
and they say all their dead family are there to welcome them, or angels or whatever and –’
47
‘Where exactly are we going, Doctor?’ said the Brigadier.
‘To the clifftop where we found Sarah, of course,’ said the Doctor, coming to a standstill.
‘Well, I think we’re lost. This is the third time we’ve been down this corridor.’
‘Nonsense!’ said the Doctor, taking a number of sharp incisive bearings with his penetrating eyes. ‘How could you possibly tell? They all look exactly the same.’
‘Precisely,’ said the Brigadier.
With a glare, the Doctor started