Part 1 (1/2)

DOWNTIME.

by Marc Platt.

For Daniel

With alphabetical multi-thanks and love to: Ben Aaronovitch, Keith Barnfather, Ben Aaronovitch, Keith Barnfather, Christopher and Venice Barry, Andrew Beech, Roy Bell, Nicholas Courtney, Terrance d.i.c.ks, Roy Bell, Nicholas Courtney, Terrance d.i.c.ks, Leo Janaek, Emilia Marty, Simon Rooks, Leo Janaek, Emilia Marty, Simon Rooks, Lis Sladen, Mike Tucker, Lis Sladen, Mike Tucker, Debbie Watling, James White and all the tremendous cast and crew of Downtime Downtime

Which was more abominable?

Me or the Yeti?

Foreword.

The novelization you are about to read is based on an independent drama production which I originally approached Marc Platt to write over four years ago.

Television being what it is, it took nearly three years to finally get the cameras rolling, but the end results have more than justified the producers' faith in the project and Marc's ability as a writer.

Downtime continues and concludes what might now be called the 'Yeti trilogy' begun with the two Patrick Troughton continues and concludes what might now be called the 'Yeti trilogy' begun with the two Patrick Troughton Doctor Who Doctor Who stories stories The Abominable Snowmen The Abominable Snowmen and and The Web of The Web of Fear Fear so if you haven't read them I suggest you do so immediately! so if you haven't read them I suggest you do so immediately!

In truth this is more than a novelization, as Marc has expanded upon the original script to include scenes and locations we couldn't possibly afford. A comparison between the two might prove rewarding and details of Downtime Downtime the drama are printed at the rear of this book. the drama are printed at the rear of this book.

With, at this time, no certainty Doctor Who Doctor Who will reappear on our television screens, it is commendable that Virgin Publis.h.i.+ng have taken over the mantle of producing original stories based on the series. I am extremely grateful to them for publis.h.i.+ng will reappear on our television screens, it is commendable that Virgin Publis.h.i.+ng have taken over the mantle of producing original stories based on the series. I am extremely grateful to them for publis.h.i.+ng Downtime Downtime and hope you enjoy reading the story as much as the cast and crew enjoyed making it. and hope you enjoy reading the story as much as the cast and crew enjoyed making it.

Keith Barnfather Producer August, 1995

Prologue.

Oxford, 1857

A Golden Afternoon It seemed an awfully long time since dinner. Victoria was sure it would soon be time for tea and Mr Do-do-dodgson still had not taken any photographs.

She clutched her doll tightly and tried very hard not to move, but she was very, very bored. The sun was in her eyes and the little stone bench seemed to be getting harder the longer she sat there. And just when Mr Do-do-dodgson said, 'All r-ready then,' and disappeared under the black cloth behind the camera, the sun would go behind a cloud, or the breeze would catch her petticoats and they would have to stop again.

Victoria puffed out her breath and kicked her legs in frustration. A fat woodpigeon, waddling across the gra.s.s, took off in lazy alarm. 'Victoria, you must stay still for Mr Dodgson,' insisted her father, who had been hovering beside their visitor all this time.

'I'm trying,' she protested.

'Yes, very,' he agreed.

While they waited for the sun to come back, he talked and talked to Mr Do-do-dodgson about the scientific principles of silvered plates and photo-zincography, and Mr Dodgson smiled patiently and smoothed out his long ruffled hair.

'So the lens entraps the image in time like a frozen looking-gla.s.s,' her father said yet again.

'Exactly, Waterfield,' declared Mr Dodgson. 'Imagine that, Victoria. A frozen teatime, when the tea never gets cold. You must come to my rooms in Hall at Christ Church and see some of my other photographs.'

'I don't like tea much,' Victoria said.

'Lemonade then... and m.u.f.fins.'

The sun peered round the side of the cloud. 'Let's t-t-try again,' Mr Dodgson added and ducked back under the cloth.

A bee, who had been exploring the tiger lilies behind her, decided to investigate Victoria as well and flew noisily in circles round her head. She gave a little scream.

'Please, Victoria. Sit still!'

The distant bell of Magdalen Tower chimed across the meadows from Oxford. From the lane came the steady clip-clop of the drayman's horse.

'Will you come in to tea?' called Mama from the french windows.

Her father pulled his gold watch from his waistcoat. 'Good heavens. Four o'clock. Where has the afternoon gone to?'

'Time has such a t-t-terrible appet.i.te,' Mr Do-do-dodgson agreed. 'There's no pleasing him. Why, he eats minutes, hours, days, even whole weeks at a time. And just when you think he's finished, do you know what he comes back for?'

He fixed Victoria with a twinkling eye.

'More?' her father suggested.

'No,' she giggled. 'He comes back for seconds!'

London. The Sixties and beyond 'Tea. That's what we all need,' the Doctor cheerfully informed Jamie and Victoria. His young companions stood awkwardly, watching him chip the white residue away from the TARDIS doors. It was settling on his frock-coat and baggy trousers.

'a.s.sam. That has a particularly agreeable flavour. Or Lapsang Souchong.'

The crystalline substance covered the outside of the police box and extended like a virulent frost along the tunnel of Covent Garden's southbound platform. Only a few hours ago, it had been a pulsing radiant web that infested most of London's underground system, fouling the nether regions of the deserted city. But with the dark thoughts that engendered it banished, it withered. It crackled as it dried and hardened.

'Och, just give them a good boot,' piped up Jamie, all set to administer the blow to the police box.

'Not to my TARDIS, you don't!' the Doctor protested.

'The very idea. You can't just kick in the doors. The lock is an extremely delicate and complex mechanism!' Jamie, come and wait over here.'

As the young Scot sidled sheepishly back to Victoria, the Doctor re-applied himself to the residue and listened to the muttered conversation behind him.

'Go on, Jamie.'