Doctor Who: Shada by Douglas Adams & Gareth Roberts

Author:Douglas Adams & Gareth Roberts [Adams, Douglas & Roberts, Gareth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Humor
Published: 2012-03-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 39

CHRIS LOOKED BETWEEN K-9, who had apparently turned himself off in a state of utter dejection, and the Doctor, who sat sprawled in the big white chair, his hat still jammed on his head and covering his eyes.

Chris assumed they were thinking. He hoped they were thinking, anyway.

He looked at the holo-screen, where the image of the quiet Cambridge meadow on this drizzly Sunday morning remained. There was nothing to prevent him, he supposed, walking out of here right now. He could find Clare and try to apologise and return to his normal human life.

His normal human problems seemed pretty irrelevant now.

He found himself distracted by three red lights that winked insistently in sequence by one of the control panels. He didn’t like red lights. Red light meant danger. Three red lights, logically, meant thrice the amount of danger. He considered asking the Ship what they meant but realised he wouldn’t get an answer, as he was an enemy of Skagra’s.

That was something at least, thought Chris. He’d never had any enemies before. Never made enough of an impression on anyone. And he’d never even met this Skagra bloke.

The silence had lasted a good five minutes. Chris decided to break it. ‘So we need to work out where he’s gone in the TARDIS? Yeah?’

‘Affirmative, young master,’ said K-9. ‘And/or when he has gone.’

‘When he has gone?’

‘Time machine,’ said the Doctor from beneath his hat.

‘Oh yeah,’ said Chris.

The silence formed again.

Chris couldn’t bear it. ‘He must have taken Romana because she can fly it.’

‘So can he,’ said the Doctor. ‘He’s got my mind in that sphere of his, remember. Everything I know is at his disposal.’

‘There’s one thing he doesn’t know,’ said Chris.

‘What’s that?’

‘You’re still alive.’

The Doctor ripped off his hat and simply stared at Chris. ‘No, I’m dead, remember.’

Chris hunched himself down next to the Doctor. ‘Doctor,’ he whispered, ‘why doesn’t the Ship realise that you’re – you know – if it’s really clever, I mean I can work it out—’

‘The Ship is programmed only to obey instructions, not to consider them,’ said K-9.

‘Blind logic,’ said the Doctor.

‘Right,’ said Chris. ‘Why don’t we try a bit of logic ourselves? Let’s work out what we know.’

‘Go on, then,’ urged the Doctor.

‘Well,’ said Chris, ‘we know that…’ He trailed off. ‘We know that… er, perhaps we could work out what we don’t know and work backwards?’

The Doctor grunted. ‘We don’t know where Skagra has taken Romana, we don’t know why he wants the book, we don’t know what he’s going to do with it, we don’t know what it can do.’

‘That’s enough don’t knows to win an election,’ said Chris sadly.

The silence descended again.

Chris sighed. ‘So. Back to square one.’

Suddenly, the Doctor leapt from the chair in an explosion of movement. Chris jumped back, astonished at how the man had gone from despondent lethargy to crackling vitality in less than a second.

‘That’s it!’ cried the Doctor.

‘What’s it?’ asked Chris.

‘Square one!’ cried the Doctor, exultant. ‘Work backwards, like you said!’

‘Did I?’ asked Chris.

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