Doctor Who_ Return Of The Living Dad Part 9

They just sat there for a few minutes, Benny's head resting on his shoulder.

'You're so tense,' she murmured. 'Look, I just want you to know that I'm not going to totally ignore you while we're here.'

'It's not that,' said Jason. 'I hate being back here.'

'Back where?'

'Back in the English countryside in the eighties,' he said.

'I was born this year, you know.'

'My G.o.d, Jason,' she said. 'I hadn't thought about it.'

'I could go and find my dad too,' he said. 'Get on a train.'

She held onto his arm. 'Don't.'

Nah,' said Jason. 'It's history.' He shrugged. 'He's upstairs. Go on.' He looked at her with sad eyes. 'Go on and get to know your father.'

The Doctor had followed his dowsing rod for an hour, tracing a wide circle around Little Caldwell. He stepped carefully around fairy rings growing in the woods. He walked through a field of wheat, fully grown in the winter greyness, filled with the traces of crop circles. He made soothing noises to a pair of cows until they let him take a look at their legs. The small incisions weren't serious.

At last he came to an ancient, shattered cottage, huddled in the very corner of a field, just a cl.u.s.ter of walls like rotting teeth. A bitter wind was whipping the clouds through the sky.

It must have been over a century since the house had burnt clown. The rows of wheat curved around it, giving a wide berth to the eroded walls, the fallen stones and the weeds. Perhaps it had been the original farmhouse, unsalvageable, left to rot after the fire.

'A good place to look for ghosts,' he said, leaning over the wall.

The middle-aged woman started gratifyingly, nearly knocking over her tape deck. She turned around, half in a crouch, and glared up at him through her spectacles.

'I hope you've brought an umbrella,' said the Doctor. 'I don't like the look of that sky.'

The woman stood up, leant on the wall, as though they were neighbours chatting over a fence. 'Do you come here often?' she said dryly.

The Doctor smiled. 'It's the only landmark for miles. Do you know the history of the place? Any murders, suicides, that sort of thing?'

'Little Caldwell has a grey lady,' said the woman. 'She's supposed to appear here, at a crossroads near a bridge, and very occasionally in the town. Supposedly she's an Egyptian woman who married an English n.o.bleman. The story is either that he strangled her and set this cottage on fire to hide the crime, or that she committed suicide and was buried at the crossroads.'

'Is there any historical basis for it?'

The woman shook her head and held out her hand.

'Ellen Woodworth.' The Doctor shook her hand. 'Are you a local, Mister...?'

'Doctor,' he said. 'I'm on holiday.'

'I'm staying in Newbury for a few days while I do a little fact-gathering. You must be in the business yourself.'

'Oh, no,' said the Doctor. 'There just aren't that many things you can do with a ca.s.sette deck and a jar of plaster of Paris in the middle of nowhere.' A raindrop splashed him on the nose, and he blinked. 'Are you planning to stay overnight?'

'Just me and the bees.'

'Bees?' said the Doctor. 'In December?'

Woodworth smiled mysteriously. 'Look around you.'

The Doctor glanced around - and saw a trickle of buzzing insects, racing through the rain. 'There's a small hive in the far room,' said the ghosthunter.

'Remarkable,' said the Doctor.

'Do you fancy helping me set up the tent fly?'

Why not?' The Doctor followed the wall until he found a charred gap, the remains of a doorway. 'You can tell me more about your ghost,' he said.

She unzipped the heavy bag of equipment. 'Remind me to buy you a drink later.'

Joel sat on his bed, leafing through his 'zine collection. The little photocopied newsletters lived in a couple of big cardboard boxes, neatly organized into folders by year and topic. Well, they were neatly organized up until about the beginning of 1983, when Isaac had given Joel the job of archiving them.

He rummaged through the last year's worth. There were UFO bulletins, Professor X Professor X fanzines, some New Age and witchcraft 'zines, and - ah! That was the issue of fanzines, some New Age and witchcraft 'zines, and - ah! That was the issue of Who's Who's Who and What's That? Who and What's That? he was after. he was after.

He turned the pages. There. A blurry, but recognizable photo of the TARDIS.

Or possibly of a police box. The trick of reading 'zines was working out which bits were made up, which bits were distorted versions of real events, and which were the real thing.

Joel peered into the box of 'zines. There were a lot of questions the Doctor could answer.

Someone knocked on the open door. The Doctor's companion Chris was there. 'Hi,' said Joel.

The man beamed at him. 'Hi,' he said. He wandered into the room, taking up rather a lot of the available s.p.a.ce.

'Can I do something for you?' said Joel, putting down the fanzine.

'I just noticed your models,' said Chris. In fact, he'd had to duck under a Millennium Falcon to get into the room. Now his face was level with a Y-Wing. 'I used to build model s.p.a.ceships when I was a kid.'

Joel blushed a little. 'Yeah, well, you can't get those kits any more where I'm from.' He pulled out a cigarette and his lighter.

'They're neat.' Chris looked around the room. It always looked like a complete mess, though everything was where it was supposed to be, including the piles on the floor. Joel wished he could convince the Admiral of that. There were shelves crammed with books, and the desk was hidden under the Commodore 64 and a bunch of stuff.

Joel pushed the window open an inch and blew out a stream of bluish smoke. 'What's it like, being a companion?'

Chris had his nose up to a noticeboard with a big green map pinned to it. He laughed. 'I never really thought about it before.' The map had a series of concentric circles drawn on it, with the middle labelled GROUND ZERO. 'Good fun,' he said, after some thought. Little Caldwell had a pin stuck in it, inside the ONE MILE radius. 'Most of the time.'

Go on, thought Joel, tell him.

Chris said, 'What's it like working for Admiral Summerfield?'

Joel shrugged. 'Good fun,' he said, grinning. 'It's a great way to meet people, so long as you don't mind how many eyes they've got.'

'Hey, what's this?' asked Chris.

Joel craned his neck around. Chris was pointing at a small cane hoop, strung with a web of fishing line, with three feathers hanging off the bottom. It was nailed to the wall over Joel's bed. 'Oh,' he said. 'That's a dreamcatcher. I get nightmares sometimes.'

'Me too,' said Chris.

'About Daleks, right?'

'No,' said Chris, 'Not real-world stuff, just weird things.

There was one, once, with me and Roz trapped inside this giant hourgla.s.s. The sand poured down all over us, burying us together. What do you figure it means?'

'I think it means you watched the wrong Batman Batman cliffhanger as a kid,' grinned Joel. 'I wasn't allowed to watch cliffhanger as a kid,' grinned Joel. 'I wasn't allowed to watch Professor X Professor X for years because of the nightmares. Missed lots of cla.s.sic episodes. Still, I'm getting a chance to see them now.' Oops. No, it didn't mean anything to future boy. for years because of the nightmares. Missed lots of cla.s.sic episodes. Still, I'm getting a chance to see them now.' Oops. No, it didn't mean anything to future boy.

Chris sat on the end of the bed and picked up the fanzine. 'Hey, that's the TARDIS,' he said.

'Yeah.'

'Wow.' Chris was scanning the 'zine. 'You guys really have been studying the Doctor, haven't you?'

'Yeah,' said Joel. 'You can't be in this business and not know about the Doctor. I really want to get a chance to talk to him.'

'He's really cool,' beamed Chris. 'Hey, do you feel like coming with us? For a while, anyway?'

'Are you kidding?' said Joel. 'I don't want my a.r.s.e exterminated.'

After a hundred adventures, you start to know when you're being watched.

Benny hadn't been able to shake the feeling for an hour; the back of her neck p.r.i.c.kling as she and her father counted books and typed t.i.tles into the PC. While he was waiting for the database program to update, she tiptoed over to the door opposite the staircase, and pushed it open.

'Aha!' she said. 'I thought so.'

There was an elderly cat sitting in the hallway, its single eye wide with surprise. It sniffed her proffered hand, decided she was acceptable, and rubbed itself on her legs.

'We inherited that cat,' said Isaac. 'Everyone has a different name for him.' Benny knelt, stroking the animal's tattered fur.

'And the Lacaillan is called Myn Jareshth.'

Benny froze in mid-pat. The blue humanoid was watching her from a doorway along the hall, slender fingers clasping the wall. 'h.e.l.lo,' she said, standing up slowly. 'My name's Bernice.'

The Lacaillan stepped into the dimly lit hallway. He moved like a ballet dancer, fine white hair floating around his head. 'h.e.l.lo.'

'Myn Jareshth and one other Lacaillan were caught breaking into the National Hurricane Center in Florida,' said Isaac. Or rather, they were almost caught. We managed to get them away before they ended up in the laps of the FBI.'

He switched off the PC. 'Myn, are you and Ia planning on coming downstairs this evening? It'll be your last chance before you go.'

The Lacaillan considered for a moment, then shook his delicate head, carefully imitating the human gesture. 'I cannot - I can't can't find Ia Jareshth,' he breathed. 'She is not in our room.' find Ia Jareshth,' he breathed. 'She is not in our room.'

Isaac was instantly on his feet. 'You didn't plan to split up?'

The Lacaillan shook his head again. 'She has left no message. I don't know where she has gone.'

'd.a.m.n,' said Isaac softly. He glanced at Benny with those cool grey eyes. 'Myn. Stay here. We'll search for her.'

'We didn't have anything to do with this,' said Benny.

'Of course not.' Her father pulled his communicator out of a pocket. His expression was unreadable. 'See if you can find the Doctor,' he said. 'We'll need everyone.'

8 One of our extraterrestrials

'Our timing's marvellous as usual,' said Roz, stomping through a puddle.

Chris looked down at his muttering partner, hidden beneath her brolly like an annoyed mushroom. It had started to rain in earnest an hour ago, just as they'd set out from the village. The TARDIS's ever-changing wardrobe had noticed the weather, it seemed; big waterproof coats and a couple of strong umbrellas had been waiting for them.

'We turn up,' grumbled Roz, 'and immediately, pow, there's a crisis.'

Chris peered through the rain. They were coming up to a crossroads. 'That's usually because we create one.'

'Not this time,' said Roz. 'Despite what Admiral Summerfield seems to think.'

'Does he really think we kidnapped the Lacaillan?'

Roz shrugged. At least, Chris a.s.sumed that she shrugged. Her umbrella moved up and down. 'Us, no. The Doctor, maybe. For all we know, he's gone mad and decided to collect blue humanoids.'

'What do you think about all of this? Little Caldwell, I mean.'

Roz's umbrella moved up and down again. 'They make up in experience what they lack in formal organization,' she said. 'And Isaac's crew trusts him implicitly.'