Doctor Who: Virgin New Adventures [036] - Infinite Requiem by Daniel Blythe

Author:Daniel Blythe
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780426204374
Publisher: Doctor Who Books
Published: 1995-05-14T22:00:00+00:00

14

Time Out

The Doctor stood at the main console of the TARDIS. The light in the room seemed somehow dimmer than usual. He thought briefly of all the transient lives who had passed through there, and of those who had died in this very room – some of his own previous selves among them.

After he had activated the Stattenheim remote, the police box had popped back into view just where he had left it, at the foot of the City Hall steps. One or two people had given it a double take, as if sensing that it had not been there two seconds ago, but the Doctor had ignored them.

Now, he operated the controls, locking on to a signal which the TARDIS had stored in its databanks. After nodding in satisfaction, he strolled over to the large wing-chair in the corner of the console room, by the hatstand, and his shadow fell over its impassive occupant.

The body which the Sensopath inhabited had grown at an alarming rate.

Sanjay Meswani – for the jet-black eyes that looked up now to meet the Doctor’s were his – was now a handsome young man of some twenty years, with high cheekbones and a firm, expressive mouth. His hair fell almost to his shoulders, tucked behind his ear on one side. He had borrowed a baggy, white shirt from the TARDIS wardrobe room – one of the Doctor’s old ones, in fact, with tiny symbols, similar to question marks, embroidered on the collar – along with the trousers from a dinner suit which the Doctor vaguely knew he ought to recognize. Sanjay’s large, smooth hands rested gently on the arms of the chair and his legs were neatly crossed.

The Doctor peered at him in a troubled way. He knew that these physical characteristics were being controlled by Kelzen to some extent, but he had already seen the physical world showing the mental struggle as Sanjay’s own mind tried to assert itself. The mouth, the Doctor thought, was Kelzen’s. This seemed to be confirmed when it grew as he watched, filling out with red-blackness and stretching the skin of the face.

‘Why did you get involved, Doctor? What advantage is there for you?’ The voice was educated, slightly mocking, and could have been that of a young man or a deep-voiced woman.

‘None,’ said the Doctor. ‘I make a habit of sticking my nose in other people’s affairs – some would call it philanthropic. I was worried about the child.’

The Sensopath tilted back the head of its new body, and let out a deep, velvety laugh. ‘Your concern extends to the unborn, Doctor?’

‘My concern is for all life, whatever its form. Of course, for the infant, the division between the self and the external world is nothing like as distinct as for the adult – almost the fusion of the drug addict or the dreamer. I suppose that’s what made it such an ideal receptacle for you.’ The Sensopath was silent. The Doctor squatted down beside the chair. ‘Marvellous thing, birth,’ he added.

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