Doctor Who_ Unnatural History Part 8

'Still am,' said Kyra. 'I've never had a regular job. It used to be tough, but I've made my own way. Just dressing up isn't enough. You have to live the philosophy if you're going to make a difference.'

'Mm-hmm,' said Fitz.

Kyra's picnic hamper b.u.mped against her leg as they crept through the darkness in Golden Gate Park. The whole place was closed off, police cars wandering around the periphery. They didn't see anyone, San Francisco's finest or otherwise, but Fitz was sure he could sense curious eyes pinned to them as they pushed through the trees, a random branch knocking his hat off for the second time.

The park was choked with plants. You could almost hear them growing, tree limbs creaking and oversized flowers breathing in the night. Every time they crossed what had once been a meadow, they were knee-deep in blossoms, the air full of perfume. Fitz stifled his sneezes in case of cops. Kyra just plodded on, steering them around hidden ponds and through thickets tangled with creepers, as though she did this sort of thing every day.

So this was how the next generation turned out, he thought. Eighteen in sixty-seven. . . Kyra had been born in 1949, thirteen years after him. By the calendar, he was almost old enough to be her dad. By their actual ages, she was old enough to be his mum.

Kyra stopped at last in a small clearing. As far as Fitz could see, it was no different from anywhere else in the park. She looked around, picked out a tree, pulled out a torch.

'What about you, Fitz?' she said, peering at the circle of light as it crawled over the bark. 'What's your bag, dad?'

56.'I did the rebellion thing for a while,' he said. 'Found a cause I really believed in. . . ' Really Really believed in. How much brainwashing had it taken? How ready had he been to just accept, just follow? 'Let's say I just picked the wrong one.' believed in. How much brainwashing had it taken? How ready had he been to just accept, just follow? 'Let's say I just picked the wrong one.'

He slid on his hat. 'I think I'll stick with superficial for a while.'

Kyra pointed at the tree. There was a symbol painted on to the bark in dark red.

Fitz stared. 'Blood?'

'Red ochre,' said Kyra. 'What do you take me for?'

She set the hamper down on the ground, took out a measuring tape. 'Hold this.' Fitz took the torch, turned it around so she could see what she was doing.

Kyra measured from the marked tree out to a distance of precisely five feet and seven inches. She put a green candle on the spot in a fat gla.s.s jar, cupped her hand around the flame as she lit it. 'Kill the flashlight,' she said, as the lime-coloured flame wavered into life, its light amplified by the gla.s.s.

Fitz looked around nervously as she took more stuff out of her hamper. The tiny candle was throwing up big, dim shadows, Kyra's outline dancing along the trees as she bent over her collection of equipment.

'I'm going to do this the quick way,' she said. 'It's all we need for a demonstration.'

In one hand, she held a compa.s.s. In the other, she was holding a dirty big knife. Ulp, thought Fitz. 'You're sure that was red ochre?' He couldn't see her expression in the flickering light.

Kyra walked away from him, peering at the compa.s.s. The little candle flame jumped between them. She pointed the tip of her knife at him. 'Stand still where you are and don't move,' she said.

She pushed the compa.s.s into her pocket and raised the knife high.

'The video shop isn't much,' Sam was saying, but it made a h.e.l.l of a difference.

I'd spent a bit of time on the street. I was living in half a room at Rob's place, watching TV all day for something to do. My parents thought it was the end of my "teenage-rebellion" phase Dad actually said that. They thought I was going to move back in. Even I I thought I was going to move back in.' thought I was going to move back in.'

The Doctor smiled, scooping chocolate ice cream out of his crystal bowl.

She took another swig of wine. 'It's not much. But I've got my own money and my own place. I'm doing OK. I've worked d.a.m.n hard to make that life.'

The Doctor's eyes met hers over the table. 'My Sam that is, that is, the Sam I knew had a similar experience.'

My Sam. Sam took another gulp of the wine. 'She was on the street?' Sam took another gulp of the wine. 'She was on the street?'

57.'We were separated,' he said. 'She found herself on an unknown planet with nothing but the clothes on her back. She spent three years fighting to survive, to find work that she valued.'

His gaze was so intense, it made the back of her neck burn, as though he was looking right through her. As though she was the only person in the universe he trusted with this secret information.

Maybe it was just the wine.

'In the end, when I found her, she had to choose between the life she'd made and travelling with me.'

'Is this going to he a sales pitch?' she said tightly. 'A hundred good reasons I should turn back into her? I can fake it if you want. Dye my hair, put her clothes on. Will that make you happy?'

She expected him to shout at her. Instead, he put down his spoon, looking at her sadly. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I wish I knew how to prove to you that you can trust me.'

Sam put her head in her hands. 'It's just everyone wants to save me. Unless they say I can't be saved.' She rolled up her sleeve, showing the scattering of blotchy needle scars. 'They see these, and they think they know everything about me. I'm just a throwaway, I'm just rubbish. Same story all the sodding time.' She looked up at him. 'Why should you be different to anyone else?'

The Doctor pushed the chocolate ice cream around in his bowl, mournfully.

'Short of pushing you into the scar and hoping for the best, I wouldn't know how to change you back. I don't have the technology to edit biodata. And even if I did, I wouldn't use it.'

'What does all that mean?' said Sam.

'Biodata,' said the Doctor. He closed his eyes. 'Hmm. Think of it as a sort of computer program. It records everything about you. Everything that happens to you in your life, everything you do. Your whole timestream. Change the biodata, change the person,' he was saying. 'Change their present, change their past. In theory, you could edit out certain events in their life, or replace them.'

He opened those brilliant-blue eyes again. 'Haven't you ever thought what it would be like? Changing into someone else, becoming a completely new person? Wiping away all of the hard times you've been through? Forgetting?'

'You're doing it again,' said Sam.

'You don't understand.' The Doctor was shaking his head. 'Predicting the side-effects of such a change would be almost impossible. It would be no less dangerous than any meddling in history. . . besides, the bad experiences are part of what makes us who we are, as well as the good.'

58.Sam snorted. 'This isn't some b.o.l.l.o.c.ky Star Trek Star Trek I-need-my-pain thing. Give me a chance to lose I-need-my-pain thing. Give me a chance to lose my my pain and I'd be there like a shot. That time when I was six when Anya started a rumour that I'd wet my pants, and the whole playground ended up laughing at me? Did that make me who I am, make me a better person? No way! Wipe it out!' pain and I'd be there like a shot. That time when I was six when Anya started a rumour that I'd wet my pants, and the whole playground ended up laughing at me? Did that make me who I am, make me a better person? No way! Wipe it out!'

She had expected him to look disapproving, shocked. Instead he was quietly listening, spooning up the last of his chocolate ice cream.

'But I don't get the choice, anyway,' she said. 'I get to be someone who'd feel sick just at the thought of being someone like me.' He looked crestfallen. 'I'm sorry. I don't mean. . . well, you must miss her a lot.'

The spoon clattered out of the Doctor's hand. He froze in place, staring, piercingly, at the nothing right in front of his face.

Kyra traced a star in the air with her knife, then held it high. 'Hail, Eastern Guardians, Spirits of Air!' she said. 'By the winds that are Her breath, I call you. Be with us!'

After a moment she lowered the blade, pointing it at the ground, and moved clockwise around the circle.

'Hail, Southern Guardians, Spirits of Fire!' she said. 'By the blazing flame of Her spirit, I call you. Be with us!'

Fitz quelled his urge to make a smart remark. Personally he'd always thought ley lines involved the words 'What's a nice girl like you. . . ', but this seemed much more effective.

She did it again at the west side of the clearing, and again at the north, calling the Water and the Earth. Then she pointed the knife up to the sky, paused for a moment, pointed it down to the ground.

'Right,' she said, rolling up her sleeves. 'This is all a bit rough and ready but it's all we really need.'

She raised her arms, and called out: G.o.ddess of Morning and Evening Mother of mountains and seas Hear us!

G.o.ddess of Midday and Midnight Mother of forests and rivers Speak to us!

Be with us!

59.Fitz glanced up at the sky, frowning. Were the clouds moving around up there, moving towards them? It must be the strong breeze that was blowing up.

Father Show us your shining face!

Brother Show us your hidden face!

Thunderstorm Hunter Blacksmith Encircling arms Wildfire Hear us!

Speak to us!

Be with us!

There was a ferocious flash of lightning, sharp enough to light up the whole clearing in black and white. A heartbeat later there was a real live clap of thunder, a single, deafening sound like something enormous snapping in two.

'b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l!' said Fitz. 'Did you do that?'

'No,' said Kyra. 'I wish I'd brought an umbrella.'

'What '

'Shh.'

The Doctor was breathing fast. His mouth hung open, forgotten, as though every sc.r.a.p of his mind was busy staring at whatever he could see.

Suddenly his right hand shot out and grabbed at the air.

Sam jumped. The Doctor threw himself back in his chair, still flailing away, trying to catch hold of something that kept slipping through his fingers. 'Purple,' he said. 'Purple things.'

His water gla.s.s went flying, spraying her with droplets. She could feel the ripples of confusion, of attention attention zeroing in on them from all around. That's it, she thought, this is where it turns out he really is crazy. zeroing in on them from all around. That's it, she thought, this is where it turns out he really is crazy.

His words kept tumbling out. 'Can't you see them? Floating in the air, all around me. They're solid, don't you understand? Solid Solid.'

And then she knew what to do. She leaned across the table and gently caught his shoulder, feeling him jump at the touch, and spoke as calmly and sincerely 60 as possible. 'It's all right. It's all right. The purple things aren't going to hurt you. You got that? They're just going to go away again. They're just gonna go away. . . '

'Can you hear something?' said Fitz.

'Not yet.' Kyra didn't look up from her pendulum. 'Here, right here.'

Fitz came over to her side. She was crouched next to the candle, the bit of metal and string swinging wildly in her hand. It reminded Fitz of one of those toys, a magnet on a bit of wire suspended over a bed of hidden magnets, jerking every which way.

'I'm not doing that,' she insisted softly. 'Put your hand on my arm, it's completely steady.'

'You're right,' said Fitz. 'OK, but what does it mean?'

The candle flame suddenly gushed up out of the gla.s.s, making them both jump. The flame curled around itself like smoke, and finally stood up straight, a line of hot light hovering two or three feet above the top of the gla.s.s.

'That hasn't happened before,' said Kyra casually, but Fitz could sense her excitement. 'The energy is getting stronger all the time.'

'The scar,' Fitz muttered under his breath.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear the echo of a million hoofbeats.

'Thank you,' said the Doctor.

Sam shrugged. 'It was just like handling Maria's flashbacks. 'Cept they didn't happen in posh restaurants, as a rule.'

They were sitting in the Bug, in the car park beneath the restaurant. 'That must have been one h.e.l.l of a plum sauce you had,' said Sam.

The Doctor shook his head and sighed through his teeth. 'It wasn't the food.

Or anything else for that matter. I keep a very close eye on my biochemistry if there was anything mind-altering in my system, I could probably tell you what it was right down to a molecular level.'

'Well I'm impressed. I can't even p.r.o.nounce some of the stuff I put in mine.'

The Doctor almost smiled. 'Be that as it may, clearly something was affecting my mind. It's got to be some kind of direct stimulation.'

'Telepathy, then?' she said. It astounded her how easily these ideas rolled off her tongue. 'Someone trying to send you a message?'

'Well, if they are, they're making a bit of a dog's breakfast of it.' The Doctor was trying to start the engine. He stopped, one hand still gripping the keys, and stared at her as she lit up.

61.'Sorry,' she said, 'you want one?'

He watched, eyes huge, as she took a long drag on the cigarette. 'Oh, come on,' she said, 'you must have seen us Earth people do this before.'

'I gave it up six or seven lifetimes ago,' said the Doctor. 'I could never quite understand the attraction.'

'I haven't had one all day, all right? Don't give me any trouble over it, because I'm too tired and too freaked out to argue.'

The Doctor was holding his chin, stroking his thumb across it. 'I could cure the addiction,' he said. 'That's if Forgive me, I It's entirely up to you, of course.'

'You could what?'

'Cure the addiction,' said the Doctor. 'I brought a medical kit from the TARDIS.'

'Would it hurt?' I can't believe I'm saying this! 'I mean, what would you '

'Derm,' said the Doctor, leaning towards her. There wasn't a whole lot of room in the car. 'A sort of sticky patch. One dose.' She could feel his breath on her neck when he spoke, looking deep into her eyes.

'But then I wouldn't have anything to do after s.e.x,' she murmured.

The Doctor turned away sharply, staring out through the windscreen. Words started tumbling out every which way. 'It's as if someone's just poking at one individual centre in my brain. Somewhere in my visual cortex. Sending a little jolt through the bits a.s.sociated with a few concepts. Purple. Solid. Floating.

Threat. The rest of my brain believes it and fills in the gaps. Yes, that's it!

Thank you, Sam.'