Doctor Who_ The Tomorrow Windows Part 32

No one spoke. No one could find the words.

The flower imploded, collapsing like a bonfire, sending out scuttles of orange sparks.

Smouldering debris erupted from its belly, streaking across empty s.p.a.ce to impact with the other astral flowers. Igniting them One by one, they exploded into flame. Orange, molten glows appeared on each of the spheres, and grew.

168.

Chapter Ten.

The Selfish Memes

I find Prubert examining his reflection in a Tomorrow Window in one of the research station's storage rooms. He doesn't notice I'm here his eyes are brooding upon his own image. He strokes his beard with an air of thwarted ambition. He's found a dressing gown from somewhere, but beneath that he's still in his check-patterned pyjamas and slippers.

'We had get-togethers, you know,' he says, without turning. 'All fossils together! It was nice to wake up to familiar faces. Impossible sn.o.bs, the lot of them, of course, but they were the nearest thing I had to friends.'

I nod sympathetically.

'They understood what it was like, and now they've gone too. Just like everyone else. The way of all flesh. I'm a man out of my time. Should've died a thousand years ago, but still I malinger on. Not for much longer, though, eh?'

'No?'

'Looks like I'll be eking the rest of my natural in whatever Zodforsaken year this is. Can't even get a decent drink!' He smiles at me, then returns to his reflection.

'It's a Tomorrow Window,' I explain.

'New thing, is it?'

'You look into it and see your future.'

Prubert peers into the gla.s.s. 'Seems I haven't got one.'

'No, it's not switched on,' I explain, indicating the wall-plug. I crouch down to turn it on.

'Don't bother,' says Prubert. 'Not interested.'

'Don't say that '

'I don't think I want immortality any more.'

'Why did you freeze yourself in the first place then?'

'Not sure,' he replies. 'I think a part of me knew that one day I would be called to confess my sins. Ha!'

'Speaking of which, the Doctor says to tell you that if you're ready, he's in the dining lounge '

169.

Prubert gathers his dressing gown about him. 'That's all I want now redemption. Then I might forgive myself.'

'Forgive yourself for what?'

Prubert looked around the lounge, as though seeking help. His eyes flicked from Charlton, to the Doctor, to Trix, to the window that overlooked the gas giant, then back to his coffee.

'It was all a long time ago,' he creaked. 'Not sure I remember details.'

'Long ago for us,' said the Doctor, pulling up the chair opposite. 'But only a dozen or so years for you.'

'Yes. Yes!' Prubert cleared his throat. 'It all began back in 1450, I think it was. I hadn't seen much work since Zap Daniel Zap Daniel. Typecasting, everyone thought of me as Vargo, king of the Buzzardmen, didn't want to know! Ended up treading the boards at some ghastly end-of-the-pier dive in Froom-Upon-Harpwick. Summer season, panto, summer season, panto. I gave a very good Captain Hook.'

The Doctor grinned in agreement. 'Oh, one of the best.'

'I was in a bad way, though. No lucre, no prospects. Shames me to say, I was drinking the odd drop. Can't remember if I had a wife, maybe she left me. . . I was washed-up, washed-up and hung out to dry. Then along came this part.'

'What part?' said the Doctor.

'A hundred thousand a month, they offered me! Back then, that was a tidy sum. Several tidy sums! Keep the wolves at bay. Take the wolves out to dinner if you liked! They told me that the part would involve dressing up, and '

' shouting?' said the Doctor.

'Lots of it. Booming oratory was required!' He inspected his coffee. 'You don't have anything stronger?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Who offered you this part?'

'Never did find out. It all came through my agent. Inane little creep. Dead now, of course. Which I suppose is some comfort.' He gazed into the middle distance. 'Mine not to reason why, mine just to say the lines.'

'What did the role entail?'

'It was an unusual thing. Kind of a cameo. It involved travelling around the galaxy and "buzzing" all these undeveloped worlds. We were given a whole list!'

'We?'

'I had a pilot, and a dresser, and a special-effects boy. Don't know what happened to them. . . What I had to do was transmat down to these primitive civilisations in this turquoise chair don't know what happened to the chair and deliver this speech.' Prubert looked embarra.s.sed.

170.

'What sort of speech, Prubert?'

A sort of an "I am your G.o.d" speech.'

'"I am your G.o.d"?'

'It was very. . . glam glam. I'd appear in a golden shaft of light, amid much rushing of wind. And there'd be a tape playing, some choral stuff. I had these gloves that could release fireb.a.l.l.s, just like that.' Prubert demonstrated, pointing with one hand. 'Whoosh! Bang! Marvellous Marvellous fun!' fun!'

'You pretended pretended to be a G.o.d?' said the Doctor. to be a G.o.d?' said the Doctor.

'I made the part my own! And then I'd give them a pep-talk about something or other. Apparently they were all at a critical stage in their development, and my advice would help steer them on to the right course.'

'On to the right course?' stuttered Charlton in disbelief.

'I'd introduce them to concepts like, er, organised religion. Or the internal combustion engine. Or daytime television, or the cult of celebrity. Give them the benefit of a little know-how and send them on their way.'

'Who decided what you would tell them?' asked the Doctor.

'We were given instructions. A list of planets and a list of what to say. All very specific, we weren't to go off-script.'

'Off-script! Good grief! You were interfering with planets' destinies, you. . .

old fool!' said Charlton.

Prubert's lips wobbled. 'I was told it would be educational educational. Give them a head start. Influence for good.'

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. 'That's what you believed?'

'To begin with, yes. Until they had me giving talks about other things. War.

Genetic modification. Capitalism. Racial intolerance. Blame culture. Tabloid journalism. Text messaging.' Prubert's face crumpled. 'I went along with it, I didn't know know. It seemed harmless enough.'

'How many did you do?' the Doctor muttered. ' How many How many?'

'Lost count,' said Prubert. 'A hundred, maybe more. We were at it for a good year or so. Two a day, sometimes.'

'Doctor,' said Trix. 'I don't get it. Why were they doing this?'

The Doctor drummed his fingers on the table. 'Come on, Trix. You know why why. You've seen the end results.'

'What, you mean they introduced these ideas to the cultures, so that a thousand-odd years later, they'd blow themselves up?'

The Doctor nodded.

'No way. That's absurd.'

'No,' said Prubert. The Doctor's right. That was our job. To introduce selfish memes.'

'Selfish memes?' said Trix. 'What are they?'

171.

'A meme,' said the Doctor, 'is a unit of cultural transmission. A term coined by Richard Dawkins. It's a. . . concept that propagates itself within a culture by a process of imitation. Like a tune, or how you tie shoelaces, marriage, language or wearing a hat. The idea gets pa.s.sed on from person to person, spreading, transmitting, and, in a sense, evolving evolving.'

'An idea evolves?'

'Evolution is adaptation by a process of extinction, and the same applies to concepts, yes? For instance, you have the idea of "monarchy". Now, we don't know when kings were invented, probably thousands of years ago. The point is, the idea caught on, and soon every country had one. Some had different types khans or chieftains or emperors as the meme adapted adapted itself to the local situation. And, as time marched on, so the idea of a monarchy changed, dying out in some places, adapting to survive in others.' itself to the local situation. And, as time marched on, so the idea of a monarchy changed, dying out in some places, adapting to survive in others.'

'Got you,' said Trix. 'So a meme is like an idea?'

'Yes,' said the Doctor. 'Those memes that spread their influence widely tend to be the most successful. Memes are in compet.i.tion, and some are stronger than others the trousers meme is gradually driving the kilt meme to extinction.'

'Because of its adaptability,' Charlton added helpfully.

'Is there going to be a point at the end of this?' said Trix.

The Doctor gave her a dark look. 'What Prubert Prubert has been doing, however, has been introducing a certain of has been doing, however, has been introducing a certain of type type of meme into the planet's meme pools.' of meme into the planet's meme pools.'

'Meme pools?'

'Cultures. This type of meme is highly successful, transmits itself widely, and ultimately dominates the whole culture to the expense of all other influences all other influences.

The selfish meme.'

Prubert's face crumpled. 'What have I done? How many people have I killed?' He fell forward wretchedly.

The Doctor watched him through dismissive eyes. 'Billions, Prubert. Billions. You have condemned whole worlds to suffering. You have brought war where there was peace and fear where there was innocence.'

Prubert was shaking with grief. 'It wasn't me! I was playing a part!'

'Doctor,' said Trix. 'I think you should lay off him a bit.'

'Lay off him?' The Doctor rose from his seat, walked over to the window and gazed out into s.p.a.ce. 'Do you have any idea what this. . . idiot idiot has done? has done?

Valuensis, Shardybarn, goodness knows how many more if he hadn't visited them, they would still be here now!'

'Yeah, I know,' said Trix. 'But lay off him.'

'It's not really his fault, Doctor,' said Charlton. 'After all, if he hadn't done it, they would have got someone else.'

' That's no excuse That's no excuse,' the Doctor snapped.

172.

'It's true though, isn't it?' said Charlton. 'I mean, right, they just got Prubert because he was the best man for the job? The best actor they could get.'

Prubert's face lifted. 'You really think so?'

'I'm sure you were very convincing,' Charlton told him.

'I was,' Prubert agreed, rubbing away the tears. 'They worshipped me and everything. I was adored adored!'

'I know they worshipped worshipped you,' said the Doctor, returning to the table and leaning over Prubert. He slammed his hands on the table. 'We saw the temples!' you,' said the Doctor, returning to the table and leaning over Prubert. He slammed his hands on the table. 'We saw the temples!'

'Temples?'