Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ Dr Who – Martha and Ten The Inbetweens and Backstories ❯ Chapter Twenty One ( Chapter 21 )

`So where next?' said the Doctor, fussing with the TARDIS controls. His long, skinny fingers danced across the strange array of instruments and dials, his face lit by the eerie pale glow from the central column.

`What about that spaceship?' said Martha.

`That spaceship,' agreed the Doctor. He began to set the coordinates, then stopped to look back up at her. `Which spaceship?'

`That spaceship you were telling me about. When we were waiting to be executed.' She sighed and rolled her eyes. `Just a minute ago!'

Just a minute ago they'd been in Milky-Pink City, an intergalactic tourist destination that had been built years before. Unfortunately, it was completed just as the market collapsed leaving the city and its robots redundant.

So the robots had been delighted to see Martha and the Doctor, even if they hadn't booked ahead. They had fallen over themselves to oblige their every whim. They squabbled about who got to fetch Martha a drink and came to blows over who took the Doctor's coat.

It had quickly turned into a war between different factions of keen-to-please robots, all with exquisite manners. And then an hour later they'd turned on the Doctor and Martha as the source of all the problems.

The Doctor's eyes narrowed to slits as he struggled to remember what he'd said to take her mind off the fact that they were waiting to be killed. `Oh! That spaceship,' he said after a moment.

`Come on,' she said, `you said it was brilliant.'

`Well it was. Literally. The Starship Brilliant. Luxury passenger thing. In space. But I only told you about it to take your mind off, well, you know . . .' He drew a finger quickly across his neck.

`Yeah, but come on,' said Martha, leaning towards him across the console. `You said nobody knew what happened to it. Not even you.'

`Well no,' he said, scratching at the back of his head. `Not exactly. I mean, there are theories.' He began to step lightly around the control console, flicking switches, careful not to meet her gaze. `It could have fallen into a black hole, or crashed into a giant space squid. You know it vanished just before a huge galactic war?'

`No,' said Martha.

`Well. That could mean something couldn't it?'

`Oh come on,' said Martha, `you know you want to. It's a mystery!'

`Yeah, well.' The Doctor thrust a hand into the trouser pocket of his skinny, pinstriped suit; his way of looking casual. `Exploring a spaceship that you know is going to vanish forever . . . Probably be a bit dangerous. Dangerous and reckless. Dangerous and reckless and irresponsible.'

`What?' she laughed. `And never know what happened to it? Ever? That's not like you at all.'

The Doctor gazed at her, deep brown eyes open wide. Martha felt the smile on her own face falter, her insides turning over. She had come to accept that the Doctor didn't share her feelings for him, but sometimes the way he looked at her . . .

`So we're going?' she said quickly.

`It'll bother me if we don't,' he said, busy now with coordinates and the helmic regulator. He stopped to look back up at her. `But there are some rules. Important ones.'

`Whatever you say.'

`Yes, whatever I say.' Martha did her best to look serious. `One,' the Doctor continued. `We can't get involved with anyone we meet. Two, we absolutely cannot change anything. Not a bean. Nuffink. Nada. Nana nee-nee noo noo.'

`Right.'

`And three . . .' He turned from the controls to look at her and his eyes sparkled as he grinned. `Oh, what's the use?' he said, and plunged the lever to send them hurtling back in time.

`Honestly, it'll be fine -' began Martha.

But the huge explosion cut her sentence short. She was thrown off her feet, hurled head over heels across the TARDIS console to crash hard into the metal mesh floor.

“Typical”, she thought, as everything faded to black.

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The Doctor slumped down in the chair beside Martha, a stupid grin on his face. `Isn't this . . .' he gestured at the happy throng of tentacled Balumin, badger-faced former pirates, mouthless men from the engine room and the rest of the starship's human crew. `Isn't it just . . .' But he couldn't quite think of the word.

`Brilliant?' Martha suggested.

`Yeah!' said the Doctor laughing. `That's exactly what this is.' A luxury starship caught between alternate universes, existing in an altered reality, where the socialites and partygoers could party on forever . . . BRILLIANT!

`You want to stay, do you?'

His grin faded, and in his eyes there was that terrible alien loneliness. He had been to an alternate universe before. The woman he loved was trapped there. To stay here in an altered reality, being neither here nor there . . . He tried not to show his sadness when he turned to her.

`Nah,' he said, all false cheer and ease. `We'd get bored. Well, I'd get bored. And that'd be boring for you. So yeah, we'd both get bored. What I said the first time.'

`Doctor,' she said seriously. `What about everyone else?'

`What about them?'

`They might get bored, too?'

`What?' he said. `On a ship with everlasting cheese and pineapple on sticks?'

Martha held his gaze, saying nothing. She knew he knew better than that. It was just that sometimes he needed reminding.

`OK,' he said at length and got to his feet. Then he climbed unsteadily onto the chair beside her, and started clapping his hands.

`Attention!' he called. `Oi, you 'orrible lot, lend me your ears!' The noise of the party died down and people came in from the ballroom to hear what he had to say.

`Speech!' called Martha's friend Mrs Wingsworth, who just happened to be a tentacled, orange alien called a Balumin.

`Speech!' agreed Captain Georgina, who looked a little tipsy and was wearing a paper hat.

`Speech!' joined in the rest of the party. The Doctor let them work themselves up a bit before calling for some quiet.

`All right, a speech,' he said, and earned a massive cheer. `The party here never ends,' he said - again a massive cheer. `And there's nobody who can tell you otherwise,' he went on. And then, after a dramatic pause, he added, `except you.'

The party-goers glanced round at each other nervously, not sure what the Doctor meant.

`Me and Martha,' he told them. `We're leaving. In an hour.' The audience booed good-naturedly, and he smiled as he pressed his hands down on the air.

`And when we're gone,' he continued, `that's it. There's no way out of here. You stay here for ever.' The background rumble of chatter died suddenly away. Everyone stood transfixed by the Doctor.

`So,' he told them. `You can come with us. We'll drop you off somewhere, and you continue your lives as you were. With a war coming. With real stuff to deal with. With food that runs out and people who die and things never quite the same any more.' He let them take that in. `Or you can stay. For ever. The party going on and on, never getting old. But it never being any different. Never getting outside. Never seeing anyone else. But safe.'

They hung on the words, awed by what he was saying. `No one owns any of you. No one else gets to decide. You each have to make your own choice. My ship's the blue box in the engine rooms,' he said.

`You've got an hour to decide. Come on, Martha.'

He jumped down from the chair, took Martha's hand in his and led her through the crowd. The party-goers gaped at them in silence, the only sound coming from the Brilliant's hidden speakers as a pop tune came to an end.

Martha let the Doctor lead her to the centre of the ballroom, the passengers and pirates and crew all around them. The Doctor took Martha's left hand in his, put his right hand on her waist. Realising what he meant to do, she put her hand to his shoulder, so close to him she could feel the buttons of his suit against her chest, so close she could feel his hearts beating.

`But what if they want to stay?' she asked him, looking around at the various friends they had made and those she'd not even got to know.

`Then they stay,' said the Doctor. `But they have to choose.'

From the Brilliant's speakers, a new pop song began. It took a moment for Martha to realise what it was, by which time she and the Doctor had already started dancing.

`Grace Kelly!' she laughed.

`The song,' the Doctor nodded, wheeling her around the floor. `Got it off your iPod. Thought you wouldn't mind. Good old Mika.'

Do I attract you?
Do I repulse you with my queasy smile?
Am I too dirty?
Am I too flirty?
Do I like what you like . . . ?

Following the Doctor and Martha's lead, others joined the dance floor, and Martha could see the same look on all their faces; the same determination to enjoy themselves, the same terror and confusion as they tried to make their choices.

Martha looked away quickly, torn on their behalf. She kept her mind on the music and not treading on the Doctor's toes. At least she didn't have to make that choice herself, she thought. But really she already had, a long time ago. And one day he'd take her back to her own time, and she'd have to choose again . . .

But for now she was here, and she was with the man she secretly loved. She hung on to the Doctor and let him lead her in a jive.

I tried to be like Grace Kelly
But all her looks were too sad
So I try a little Freddie . . .

The Doctor and Martha both "Hmm-mmm'd" to that bit.

I've gone identity mad!

She spun around as the Doctor held her hand above her head. He was a good dancer; apparently back in the 1940's on Earth a young up and coming dancer named Fred Astaire had given him some lessons in return for introducing him to a film producer.

As usual, she couldn't tell if it was true, or one of his tales that he told to try and impress her. She just enjoyed the experience of being this close to him, the feel of his hand in the small of her back, her body rubbing against his as they swirled around the dance floor.

I could be brown
I could be blue
I could be violet sky
I could be hurtful
I could be purple
I could be anything you like

It was a rare opportunity, and she was going to make the most of it, wishing that this moment would go on forever. But then, as Mika came to the end of his song, she wondered if he'd danced with Rose like this, if he'd looked into her eyes, and if he'd kissed her?

The party aboard the Brilliant would go on for ever. Yet for those who would choose the one chance to escape, the last dance was coming to an end.

Humphry! We're leaving.
Cha-ching!

Martha reluctantly released her dance partner, and they led those passengers who had decided to leave in a disorganised conga through the corridors towards the TARDIS, accompanied by Mika's song Big Girl echoing around them.

There were the inevitable comments about their ship being too small to get everyone in, and the subsequent expletives of disbelief when they went inside (with apologies to the ladies afterwards). Martha managed to round up the odd few who ran out screaming, getting them to take a deep breath, close their eyes, and come inside to have a cup of tea.

The Doctor was about to adjust the controls and start the Time Rotor, when he thought about how Martha had gotten her head around the effects of the time loop. At present, she was standing by one of the coral struts, being chatted up by Archie, one of the badgers.

'Martha, you know how you keep asking me how to drive the TARDIS?'

She popped the pineapple and cheese canapé that Archie had offered her into her mouth. 'Yeah?' she answered uncertainly.

'Well, having been stabbed and electrocuted to death, and come through it unscathed; I reckon that qualifies you for a driving lesson. What do you say?'

Her face lit up. 'Really? That's brilliant!'

She ran over to the console and hugged his arm excitedly. He had a momentary flashback to when Rose used to do that, and quickly cleared his throat and shook off the memory.

'Now just remember, we've got the "L" plates on,' he told her, and then whispered, 'but you can still impress your new boyfriend over there.'

Martha looked across the console and saw Archie smiling at her. 'Oh I wouldn't worry about him,' she said as the female badgers Zuzia and Kitty Rose came up either side of him and whispered in each of his ears. He shrugged apologetically at Martha and then gave her a cheeky wink.

'I see what you mean,' he grinned. 'Right, pull down that lever and lock the doors. We don't want them flying open while we're in the Vortex do we?'

He showed her how to start up the Time Rotor and put the TARDIS into the Vortex. He helped her set the time coordinates for when the Brilliant would arrive at its destination.

The passengers knew the cover story that they had hitched a lift when the Brilliant's drive had stalled. Those that had remained on the Brilliant were having such a good time that they wanted to stay and party. Which wasn't much of a cover story, because it was true.

Wellll . . .

'You have arrived at your destination.' the Doctor announced, like some kind of intergalactic sat-nav as he helped Martha stop the Time Rotor. 'Only it's been a few years since you were reported missing.'

Martha walked down the ramp and opened the door a fraction to have a quick peep and make sure they weren't in a polar wilderness, desert, or primeval jungle.

'Oh,' she said, pleasantly surprised and throwing open the double doors. 'It looks like this is your stop.'

It appeared to be late evening in a bustling entertainment district of a busy, futuristic city. There were lights, media displays and noise everywhere. It reminded Martha of Times Square in New York.

They said their goodbyes to the passengers as they filed out of the TARDIS, the humans, tentacled Balumin, mouthless men from the engine room, badger-faced former pirates, and a variety of others.

'Oi, Captain Florence,' the Doctor called to the former pirate captain.

Florence turned, raising a furry eyebrow. She wore a loose, collarless blouse. Her bare, bristly arms were taut and muscular, like she spent her whole time working out. A jagged scar worked across her forehead, dipped behind an eyepatch, and then continued down her hairy cheek.

'There's plenty of opportunities for venture capitalists, entrepreneurs, and independent financial wotsits around here,' he said, using her own terminology for piracy. 'Just stay out of trouble, yeah.'

'Aye me hearty, I reckon we can do that.' She touched her forelock in salute, and the Doctor returned it with a smile. Martha gave a little wave with her fingers, and the rag tag troupe of former pirates set off into the night.

The Doctor then had a panicky thought. 'Oh, and when they say you can make a killing on the financial markets; don't take it too literally. You don't really have to kill anyone.'

Florence stopped and turned to grin at him. 'I'll bear that in mind me hearty.'

'Badger that in mind,' Dashiel the former pirate said helpfully. 'We're badgers, not bears.'

'Shut up Dash,' Florence said, rolling her eye. 'A little learnin' is a dangerous thing.'

A grinning Doctor held out his bent arm for a giggling Martha. 'Fancy a look around while we're here?'

'Why not?' she replied, wrapping her arm around his, and together, arm in arm, they set off to explore the exciting city.