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'Gallifrey? Where have I heard that before?'
'It's in Ireland.'
'Rather risky at the moment, surely?'
'Oh, he's in no danger. They're a backward lot, the natives of Gallifrey. Idiots with no dress sense.'
'Yes...' Smith nodded thoughtfully. He glanced at his watch.
'Well, I'd better be getting back to ...'
'Joan?'
'School.'
'Same thing. Try not to learn too much.'
He got up, making that gesture he always did with his hand, a strange flutter that Benny took to be a perplexed search for a non-existent hat. That alone was worth a thesis. She'd have so many questions for him in three weeks. 'See you next Friday.'
'Of course.' Benny saluted him with her remaining sherry, and watched him depart.
He waved as he mounted his bicycle and peddled off down the road, swerving close enough to the local omnibus to scare the horses.
Benny laughed and drained her gla.s.s. 'What the h.e.l.l. Good luck to her.'
She noticed that, from a table a few feet away, somebody was staring at her, apparently amazed.
It was a tall and handsome young man, with fair hair, dressed in blazer and whites.
A boater was perched atop his head. He had halted in the act of eating one of the pub's corned-beef rolls. He broke into a smile as she caught his eye, so she quickly looked away. No thank you. Not wanted on voyage. She put down her gla.s.s and reached for her bag, intending to head off for an afternoon's painting and possibly a little sleep.
But the young man had got up from his seat, and intercepted her as she headed for the steps that led down from the raised area of the tables to the street below.
'Excuse me - but it's Bernice, isn't it? Bernice Summerfield?'
'Yes...' Benny stared at the man, trying to place him. She was sure that she'd never met him before. Perhaps he was one of Alexander's friends. 'I'm sorry, have we met before?'
'Hah! Goodness, Professor, the answer's both yes and no. Let me see, this would be the time when, ah, you've just seen me off on my bicycle, haven't you! Oh dear, I'm afraid I did make you worry.'
Benny stared at him, her mouth open. 'Doctor?'
'Tenth, actually. I pop back here quite often now. I say, you're drinking sherry!
Wouldn't you prefer a... pint of bitter, wasn't it?'
Benny unsteadily sat back down, and the man settled opposite her.
'My G.o.d,' she laughed, 'this is a bit of a shock. I'm surprised that this sort of thing doesn't happen more often, really, with time travel and all that. Well, hey, now that you're here, maybe you could explain why you did this to yourself?'
'Made myself into a human, you mean? It was a long time ago, Benny, I'm not really sure that there was a particular reason. I purchased the equipment off of a lovely old chap called Laylock on the planet Crex, a bodysmith by trade. But you were there, weren't you?'
'Not quite. I just got to see the before and after comparison. What exactly did you do?'
'You'll have seen the red sphere, the biodatapod? Interesting thing. A near-infinite memory capacity in such a small pod. It uses the fractal technology of the Matrix, I suspect. Well, I went to Laylock carrying a memory module, which contained a fictional persona I'd developed using information from the TARDIS databanks.'
'You'd used the telepathic circuits beforehand, I saw that in the console log.
'Did I?' The young man pondered, rubbing his chin. 'Now why was that? Oh yes, of course - the telepathic circuits sop up the memories of pa.s.sengers like a sponge in water. I was using the recollections of previous occupants to create Smith.'
'What, companions like me?'
'Exactly. Including you, actually.'
'Oh dear. I wonder what?'
'Nothing appalling, if I recall rightly.' He reached out and tapped Benny's nose gently. Benny smiled. It hadn't occurred to her, but she rather missed all that hugging that the Doctor went in for. It used to irritate her, but it was typical of him that just when she needed a bit of physical contact, he turned into a chap who felt uncomfortable about shaking her hand.
Well, obviously the tenth Doctor was pretty tactile. Risking the disapproval of the townsfolk, she tapped his nose back.
He grinned. 'Laylock used the character I'd written to program the biodatapod. He stuck it to my forehead, and it sucked all the Doctorish memories and abilities out of me, and replaced them with the fictional ones. It also wooshed thousands of nanites into my bloodstream, and, in about a nanosecond, they transformed my physical being into that of a human, just as I'd wanted. The nanites rushed off with all of the Time Lord cellular information, back into the Pod, leaving me as - '
'Doctor John Smith of Aberdeen, the schoolteacher. I see. And you recovered, just as promised, after three months?'
'Well, Benny, you know that is future information, but...' He glanced conspiratorially upwards, as if to check that the Time Lords weren't watching. 'Of course I did, or I wouldn't be here now, talking to you like this. I put the sphere back to my forehead, or, as I recall, you did it for me, and the process was reversed. I woke up rather shocked, but quite happy.'
Benny nodded, reflecting on her conversation with Smith earlier on. 'I'll bet.' She bit her lip, wondering if she should ask the question that had been nagging at her mind for the last few minutes. She reached out and took the Doctor's hand between hers. 'Listen, you know I've been going through it a bit in the last few weeks. Do I... does everything... turn out all right for me? I'd like to know. Can you tell me?'
The fair-haired man took a deep breath, and the look in his eyes scared her terribly.
'Benny - '
'No! Actually, I don't want to know, I've changed my mind. Don't tell me. Please.'
Benny raised her arms in a pacifying gesture. 'I think I could do with that pint now.'
'Benny, relax, nothing terrible happens to you. The last time I saw you, you had, oh, six husbands and three children, and were enjoying being first lady of the court of Cartufel, at the galactic core.'
Benny laughed in relief. 'Six husbands? Really? Goodness, at least I get Sundays off.'
The man laughed with her. He had a pleasant chuckle. 'Would you like to meet my new companion?'
'Of course. Are they here?'
'She's round the back, in the beer garden, playing on the climbing frame.'
Benny raised an eyebrow. 'I think this is going to make me feel very old.'
Aphasia had indeed been playing on the climbing frame in the otherwise deserted beer garden, her balloon tied to her wrist, but then she'd noticed something: a little wooden table on a pole, with bread laid out on it. A sparrow fluttered down, took a bit of the bread in its beak and flew away.
So Aphasia had taken the bread, put it on the other end of the wooden table where she was sitting, and stared at it, ready. The sparrow had bravely returned for more bread. A few minutes later, Benny came round the comer of the pub, clutching the pint that her new friend had bought her. He walked with her, having refilled his gla.s.s of wine. 'Aphasia, say h.e.l.lo to an old companion of mine, Bernice Summerfield.'
Aphasia made a face, and Benny laughed, sitting down at the table beside her.
'You've got a mouthful of crisps, haven't you? Just like me. I was always told not to eat so-'
A feather sneaked out from Aphasia's lips. She licked it quickly back in.
'Fast...' Benny stared at the semi-dissected bird that lay on the seat beside the little girl.
'Aphasia! How many times have I told you not to do that!' The man in white s.h.i.+elded the bird from Benny's gaze with his boater. 'I'm terribly sorry. She's a little hunter, from one of the lost colonies. Her parents are dead. She survived in the wild until I found her. I'm gradually teaching her the ways of civilization.'
'Yes, well, don't worry, that's, erm, fine...' said Benny, concentrating on her pint.
'We can say h.e.l.lo when she's finished her lunch. Tell me more about this experiment of yours that I'm taking part in.'
The young man sat down. 'Well, I realize that us meeting now explains a joke you made to me when I recovered. You said that I looked like myself again.'
'Mm-hmm. Sounds like me. I must remember to do that.'
'I've been trying to remember more about the whole situation, but I'm understandably hazy. We hid the datapod with my real persona in it somewhere rather artful, didn't we?'
Benny nodded, smiling ruefully. She put down her gla.s.s and took his hand gently between hers again. 'Remember where?'
'Can't say I do.'
Benny let go of his hand and shook her head. 'Well, see if you can before tonight.
Bring little Aphasia with the apt name and we'll have dinner. No game, I'm afraid, but I do make a nice vegetarian quiche.'
The tenth Doctor frowned. 'We'd be delighted, but I can't seem to remember where you're staying.'
Benny was getting to her feet, smoothing her skirt! 'Then that'll be another challenge, won't it?'
The man exchanged glances with the little girl, who was finis.h.i.+ng up her bird quickly. 'All right. Do you have to rush off?'
'Oh yes. I've just remembered, I left something on the stove.'
'Before you go, please tell me, erm, how do you think I compare with your Doctor?'
Benny glanced at Aphasia. 'Compared to him I think you're rather heartless. See you later.' She reached for her handbag.
Something slashed past the tips of her fingers, and the, handle came away from the bag, which went flying.
The man was on his feet, miming holding a sword.
No, not miming. Benny felt, rather than saw, something incredibly sharp cutting the air into ozone in front of her throat. 'Your sense of humour lets you down, Professor. I gather that you checked my pulse and found only one beat. Is that all that gave me away?'
'Hardly. The Doctor's a vegetarian, you see. Add that to the bird-eating companion and the three children, and I was getting rather suspicious. You want the Biodatapod, I suppose?'
'That's right. Aphasia - ' The little girl was tipping the contents of the handbag over the table. The man glanced at her for a second.
Benny slapped the pint into his face.
The gla.s.s spun away in two as it hit the sword.
But Benny was already sprinting for the stile that led into the next field.
The man dived after her, pulling a gun from his belt one-handed. 'Stop!' he shouted.
Benny hurdled the stile, splinters of it exploding up around her knees as a warning burst of silent scarlet energy bolts ripped the wood apart.
Beyond the stile was a ploughed field. She stared at it in horror and dived for the hedgerow.
By the time that Greeneye had scrambled over the burning remains of the stile, his quarry was nowhere to be seen. 'You haven't vanished, Professor!' he called, turning slowly to examine the trees and hedges around him, invisible sword in one hand and gun in the other. 'We only want the Pod. Tell us where it is and we won't harm you.'
Benny didn't reply. She was curled up in the ditch by the hedge, a ma.s.s of ferns wrapped around her. She was busy undoing her skirt as quietly as possible. The d.a.m.n thing had nearly sent her sprawling head first into the stile.
'Very well. Aphasia, it's time for your balloon.'
Greeneye gestured to the little girl.
'Should have done it right away,' Aphasia sulked, untying the balloon from her wrist. 'Balloon, find the lady and snuggle her.' She let go of the string, and the red balloon floated up into the air. It stopped, just above head height and moved in the direction of the stile, until it stopped above Greeneye's shoulder.
Benny had slid out of the skirt, and was trying to remain as still as possible. It wouldn't be long, she reasoned, before somebody from the pub ventured into the garden and saw the burning stile. That might be fatal, since these two, whoever they were, didn't seem to care if they were seen or not. But them being scared off seemed to be her only chance right now.
The balloon had floated down to the level of the ploughed soil, and was making gentle, circular motions.
Suddenly, it halted, and then sped off across the ground, straight towards the hedgerow where Benny sheltered. Greeneye dashed after it, his sword raised above his head.
The balloon dipped down into the ditch. Benny was amazed to see a red sphere pus.h.i.+ng quickly through the ferns above her face, as if shoved by a hand. The thing paused a minute, and then rushed at her.
The surface engulfed her face.
She hadn't had time to take a breath. The skin of the thing tasted warm and organic, not like rubber at all. She started to gag, but forced the reflex down, her hands scrabbling frantically at the balloon. Her fingers couldn't seem to hold on to it, slipping off as they tried to grab it or burst it or something. The red material was trying to force itself down her throat and into her nostrils. She couldn't breathe.
In a minute, she'd pa.s.s out, and they'd have her.
A shadow appeared over the ditch, and in a red haze, Benny realized that her attacker was standing over her, the ozone-stripping blade slicing vegetation with mere gentle movements a few inches from her face.
If she fell now, then the Doctor would be absolutely vulnerable.
So she wasn't going to let that happen.
With an audible yell, she pushed her head straight at the blade.
The balloon hit it. And exploded.
In the garden, Aphasia started screaming, shrill child screams that didn't stop.