Part 3 (1/2)
Benny leant over. The dust looked familiar from somewhere.
The Doctor peered through the eyepiece of the microscope. 'It's not from Earth, that's for sure. Let's see: Fe2O3.3H20. Limonite. Hydrogenated iron oxide.'
Why was it making her feel nostalgic?
Tickertape spewed from the box at the side of the desk. Without taking his eyes away from the microscope, the Doctor tore the tape off. Then he straightened up to read what it said.
'Found only one place in the solar system - '
' - Mars,' the Doctor and Benny declared in unison.
17.'Wel done,' the Doctor said, a little awestruck. 'I worked it out by spectrographic a.n.a.lysis with access to one of the finest mineralogical databases in the universe. How did you know?'
'As you'd know if you'd read my first book,' Benny announced authoritatively, 'I made my reputation as part of an expedition excavating the tombs of the Mare Sirenum,'
'Those tombs are carved from spotless blue crystal,' the Doctor objected in a wounded tone of voice.
'There was soil like that in the egg chambers.' - Benny realised she was blus.h.i.+ng - 'I was twenty-four and there was a lad called Tim in the same group. We spent a fair amount of the time rolling around together up there. That soil gets everywhere, trust me.'
'The odd thing is that it has been chemical y treated. The main question is, how did it get here?' The Doctor peered down at the sample, as though he was expecting it to confess the answer.
'That's no big mystery,' Benny said, 'Humanity has got to Mars by now.' Her knowledge of history was a little spa.r.s.e in places, but the late twentieth century (or more precisely 1963 - 1989: The Kennedy a.s.sa.s.sination to the Fall of the Berlin Wall) was one of her specialities. Within a couple of years of the Americans landing on the Moon, the British had put a man on Mars. It was al part of the superpower s.p.a.ce race, with Britain still trying to play with the big boys. Like al races, it was over quickly and didn't really amount to much. The United Kingdom felt good about itself for a couple of years and put itself even further into debt. There were no significant technological or scientific consequences, and al anyone had to show for it in the end was about five hundred kilos of red rock and rusty soil. Most people in the nineties probably wouldn't remember the names of any of the Mars Astronauts. There were a couple of disasters towards the end, Benny recalled. Something to do with astronauts going mad. Hardly surprising when they spent a total of sixteen months in a tin box the size of a Transit van.
The Doctor drummed his fingers on the bench top. 'Yes, now you mention it they were mounting Mars missions when I was exiled here. I remember helping them out that one time.'
'There was a report on the television news this morning about a new landing on Mars.'
The Doctor grabbed her by the shoulders and stared straight at her. 'It's al coming together. It looks like we need to catch up with current affairs. Come on, Bernice, let's get back to the control room!' He leapt up and bounded for the door.
Benny glanced down at the little soil sample. 'Now look what a fine mess you've got me into,' she scolded it.
The policeman in the vil age had seen him, looked straight at him. Christian had been forced to smile back at him.
What else could he have done? Broken his neck in the middle of the street? The constable hadn't shown a glimmer of recognition. Later, though, when he saw the new 'Wanted' posters up at his station, he'd remember.
Freedom. After twenty years, Alexander Christian could hardly remember what it was like to walk down a street, to see the young girls in their colourful summer outfits and the birds landing in the trees. Children with ice cream, mothers with prams. Fas.h.i.+ons had changed, of course, that's what fas.h.i.+ons did. Other little things were different: the cars were more streamlined, with odd rounded fronts and there were radio telescopes on the side of some houses - no doubt the latest hobby, like he used to build crystal sets when he was a kid.
Christian had reached the little supermart on the corner of the main street. A sign on the door read 'Open Today As Usual'. He straightened out his jacket, trying to look respectable, then he walked in. The bell above the door jangled as he closed it behind him. An old woman was behind the counter, stroking a large white cat.
'h.e.l.lo,' he said - a word he'd not used for a long time - 'Could you tell me where the nearest phone box is?' He scratched the cat's nose.
'There's a pay phone just there, behind you,' she replied cheerful y. The cat looked set to follow him over, until the woman caught hold of it. 'Stay here, Stevie.'
Christian thanked her and moved over to it. He checked the number for directory enquiries and then dialled it. Or rather he tapped out the number - the phone had b.u.t.tons rather than a dial.
After a couple of rings, a young man's voice asked which name he wanted. Christian told him and there was a pause, punctuated by the clacking of a keyboard. The whole system must be computerised by now.
'I'm sorry, sir, I can't find that name.'
'It's double-barrelled. With a hyphen.'
'And you don't know the area?'
'No. There can't be many with that surname.'
'I'll just try again.'
A four-second pause, more clacking. The line was crystal clear.
'I've found it, sir, but it's ex-directory.'
18.'Ex-directory?'
'A lot of teachers are ex-directory, sir.'
Teachers? Well, it had been twenty years. 'Can't you give it to me? It's an emergency.'
'I'm sorry, we can't.'
'Can you give me the address?'
'We don't give out addresses. Security. You could be an escaped nutter or anything.'
Christian decided not to argue the point.
'Could you at least tell me the county?'
'No, I'm sorry.'
'OK.' He hesitated for a moment, racking his brains. 'Katherine, with a âKâ, the same surname.'
A different voice, a recorded one, rattled out a number, then repeated it. Christian didn't have a pen, he committed the number to memory. He cut the connection, got a dialling tone, then tapped in the phone number: 0122 69046.
The Doctor was striding back towards the console, which in the new scheme of things stood on a hardwood plinth in the centre of the vast control room. Immense iron girders sprouted from the floor and arched overhead, forming a canopy.
Wolsey detached himself from a chaise-longue and jumped over for attention. The Doctor strolled past him, his attention fixed straight ahead. Benny bent down and scratched the tabby cat under the chin. He was almost embarra.s.singly grateful.
'Has he been neglecting you?' Benny asked seriously.
'Miaow,' replied Wolsey. The little cat was happy enough. Why wouldn't he be with al this antique furniture lying around from him to claw and leave hair al over? Benny noticed the question-mark umbrella gathering dust on top of a filing cabinet, and a s.h.i.+ver ran down her spine. Benny joined the Doctor, Wolsey trotting ahead of her, leading the way.
The Time Lord bounced around the console. After a second's consideration he chose one of the panels and began to flick switches and twist dials. As Benny stepped up to join him a holographic frame materialised at head height between them, filled with static.
'With this, the TARDIS can tune in to every television channel broadcasting on Earth at this moment.' The Doctor had his head down, trying to stabilise the picture.
'What, even the mucky ones?' Benny said, leaning forward. Image after image started to flash up on the screen, too fast to decipher all but a handful: the Pyramids; Dale Winton with j.a.panese subt.i.tles; riots on the Falls Road; Greedo firing first; a smiling Xhosa woman; James Bond diving after a plane in freefall; tanks in the desert; Batman knocking out the Riddler with a 'KA-POW!'.