Doctor Who and The Infernal Inferno by George Laws
Title: Doctor Who and The Infernal Inferno
Author: George Laws
Summary: The Doctor vists another library
Rating: PG I suppose
Characters: 10, OFC
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Neither myself or my Dad own Doctor Who
Introduction
The walk was always the same for him. Let’s be frank, he did it with style. The squeak of his Converse trainers on the wet floor and the swish of the long, brown coat were the only things that marked his passing. His height and build were…well ordinary, as was his face. Average, the grey man if there ever was one. He had a face you would instantly forget, lost forever in a crowd of similar faces. That is if it wasn’t for his eyes. Those eyes that burned into your soul. They were eyes that had seen everything and reflected as much. They could be kind, gentle and even loving but they could never hide what they were. If eyes were the windows to the soul then these eyes looked out from a soul that had been in torment for millennia.
Hands thrust deeply into the pockets of a blue suit, he strode on, not looking back, not even reflecting on past events. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let himself ponder on what had occurred. One ounce of regret, one moment of indecision and he would fall into the abyss that was the complexity of his own mind. He had to be focused, ready for the next chapter, ready for anything without the baggage that pulled constantly at his subconscious.
He knew that they wouldn’t understand. He had lived almost a thousand years and he scarcely understood himself. It was the big picture that he lived for, the happy ending that always seemed to be just out of his grasp. Was he the good guy or was he the bad guy? The answer was neither. Like time itself he stood outside gazing in, wondering, hoping and acting. He longed for the peace and serenity that he had been promised the day he was born. None of his race would, or could have achieved it but it was there; there for the taking if only he could.
Life had been simple when he was young. All he wanted to do was learn, observe and enjoy the gift of life that he had been granted by the Architect, the author of life. His home was a lifetime ago, a lifetime of death, destruction and loneliness. He remembered his home well; the heat of the twin suns burning down upon him through the glass dome that encapsulated the entire city. The burnt orange sky filled with beauty and colour. Then like his predecessor he had turned his back on his creator and ran in the opposite direction. Only for him, it wasn’t a giant whale that brought him back in line; it was a small blue box. It wasn’t fair. People came and went in his life and all he could do was observe. He did enjoy the company while it was there but deep down he knew it wouldn’t last. At best he would get five years of friendship, companionship and enjoyment, then they would be off, back to their normal lives remembering that once, just once they had travelled with him.
In the normal way of things he would say that he was lonely, but the word itself didn’t do the way he felt, any kind of justice. Some days he would feel it worse than others. Those days he liked to forget but they were there, ever present, ever demanding, tugging constantly on his emotions. Fuelled with misery and self-pity he would visit the place where, and when, his friends were buried. He would stand back and watch as they were lowered into their graves and he would feel it. He had never cried, never could, that would have been a release for him. He just stood there and let the pain and depression wash over him like a giant wave of despair. His eyes would redden and his voice would crack and go altogether until he could bare it no longer. He was tired, so very tired and alone. He supposed that if anyone lived long enough they would always end up alone. Everything began as dust and would always turn to dust in the end. Quickly turning he would head back to his giant whale and wait to see where the forces, the powers that guided his every move, wanted him to go to next.
People never understood; they couldn’t. Life for them was one long round of survival and forcing enjoyment from the experience until his companions’ brief time was up, but not for him. There was no release for him, ever. He had to sit back, watch and endure. He’d tried to end it many times but to no avail. The creator had placed a lot of stock in his ability to get out of trouble faster than he got into it. He had died ten times now, each existence lasting hundreds of years. He’d been in impossible situations that defied the odds and still came out breathing. No…he couldn’t die…the architect wouldn’t let him.
There wasn’t just him, he knew that, but he never saw anyone else. He’d arrive at a place or event in time and know that someone had previously been there but had left. He’d jump into the ‘blue whale’ and wonder who would arrive after he left. Everyone knew who ‘they’ were yet no one could categorically state that they existed. Religions, cultures and times had different names for who he was but none would stand up and announce that he was among them. Flittering in and out of time, one culture had called them angels but that was a description of something he certainly wasn’t.
Life came and went and he always stayed the same…well almost the same. Given the choice he wouldn’t be who he was. Given the choice he would take parts of all the people that he had been, all the best parts and put them into one perfect body. But what would he pick. No one was good enough, not even him, whoever or whatever he had been. Like the ever-changing view out of the front door of his home, his life would continue to turn. No, useless killings or great gestures would not end his existence until the time that had been set-aside for him came into being.
He was driven, no doubt, but not personally. The higher power that watched over him and his kind had the last say. That was the problem back at his home; they never understood the true depth of their own existence. He could have taken that path and followed their every whim but that wasn’t for him. It was as if he had been given a series of pathways to chose from but told that he was taking a specific one whether he liked it or not. No matter how much he tried to deviate from that pathway he would be dragged, kicking and screaming back onto his original course. His face may change, his body may appear younger or older, but eventually he will toe the line. Despite himself, his own personal deviations threw him in the right direction. If he thought about which way the Creator wanted him to go and did the complete opposite he knew he would be heading where he was needed. Even doing nothing was action and not an opposite. Whether he spent time perfecting his ‘walk the dog’ technique or eating jelly babies, events would overtake him and he would be thrown headlong into another crazy adventure.
With a smile, miles away from mirth, rain spat then poured down on him. It wasn’t long before his coat was dripping wet and puddles began to form about his feet. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse they usually did. Someone, he thought had a sense of humour. But, he supposed, he couldn’t complain. In the great scheme of things ‘Who’ was he! He began to laugh as rainwater soaked his trainers and dripped off the end of his nose.
Chapter One
Allons-y Alonzo
It wasn’t her day. It’s never her day. Other people have days, weeks and even years but not her. She’d lost her job, her boyfriend…her ‘boy’ friend didn’t think he should see her any more and some bastard had taken her final wage from her account leaving her with squat. Identity fraud, they’d said, what a load of rubbish. The bank had stolen it; they were against her; everyone was against her. She’d get drunk but she hadn’t two-pound coins to scratch her arse with. Why does this sort of thing always happen to her, why? She wasn’t unattractive. Well…at least she’d seen a lot worse. She’d even gone out with a few but to no avail. All she wanted was to be happy, to be anything, to be something other than what she was. It was as if she was living in limbo, waiting for the job, the man, the two point five kinds and a way of life she could happily complain about. But it hadn’t even started. She was standing on the edge of the abyss, waiting, looking in and the abyss was staring back at her, pissing itself with laughter.
She needed to be able to relax and enjoy herself, she needed alcohol to blur out the disappointment she felt and sheer miserable-ness that burned away deep inside. She was better than this. She was meant for more than this. She was fit, healthy, intelligent, willing to work, willing to do anything reasonable. But…where was the stuff? Where were the jobs, money, holidays, husband, house, two point five kids and all the rest of the crap that keeps you occupied until you die?
‘I want it and I want it now,’ she shouted up at the darkening sky. ‘Oh…nice, it’s going to rain. That’s all I need. Do you hear me God, that’s all I need.’ Rain hit her face in great clusters of water that stung her at first then soaked her hair and ran off the black raincoat she wore.
A tearing sound echoed above her and the night filled with light as thunder boar down upon her. ‘Shit’ she exclaimed and ran as fast as she could. ‘Sorry God, I didn’t mean it. You know how it is. That time of the month and everything.’
Head down she ran, her trainers squelching in the water that drenched the streets around her. Lightening flashed across the sky turning night into day as she ran. ‘The Angel’ was around here somewhere. If she could make it there perhaps things would be better. Up ahead she noticed a solitary figure opening a door and headed in that direction as darkness took over and blotted out her view. ‘Hold the door,’ she screamed as she barrelled right on through pushing him out of the way as she entered. She had enough for one pint then that was it. Totally and utterly broke.
Shaking the rain from her coat she looked around for the ladies. Dry herself off then straight to the bar. Walking she scanned the room for the first time. It’s amazing how many times you walk into a pub without knowing where the toilets were. Without asking, you wander around hoping amongst hope that a sign will pop out and tell you where to go before the barman demands you buy something. But not this time, no sign was evident, or chairs, or tables, or as a matter of fact drinkers.
That’s just typical of these places, she thought. Since the ban on cigarette smoking in public establishments no one goes out for a drink anymore. Stopping at what looked like a reception area she let her eyes take in the surroundings. The lighting was subdued and the walls were decorated in what looked like small protruding circles painted in pail orange. Placing her hand on the desk for support she realised that it wasn’t a reception area but a stand-alone desk, circular and filled to the brim with handles, lights and buttons of every kind.
‘What the h…’ she never finished the sentence as the thin figure she had shouldered out of the way to get in, neatly returned the compliment. Turning she stood speechless as he began flicking switches, pushing buttons and using something that resembled a bicycle pump, attached to the centre consol, in a vicious up and down motion. Immediately a large plastic cylinder, which was the centre of the consol flashed, sparked and began moving up and down. The thin man ran around the opposite side of the table and pushed more buttons as smoke bellowed all around and a small fire erupted in one corner.
‘The extinguisher!’ he shouted pointing at her. ‘Behind you, the fire extinguisher.’ Turning she noticed a small, black Co2 extinguisher hanging from a nail in one corner. Grabbing hold of it she pulled out the retaining pin and aimed it at the fire, which by now was increasing in size. White carbon dioxide gas exploded out of the black nozzle and the fire immediately abated.
‘Right, hang on!’ he shouted over the noise but too late. The ground seemed to move beneath her throwing her to the floor. The extinguisher flew from her hand as she tried to grab the centre consol for balance. An explosion rocked her ears as her head connected with the side of the consol and blackness took over.
It was the noise that woke her, the constant, rhythmical pulse that throbbed in her head. Slowly, carefully she tried to sit up then quickly realised what a bad idea that had been.
‘No, no, no, just sit there for a while. You really cracked your head.’ Turning slightly towards the voice she saw the thin man running around the consol adjusting levers, flipping switches and attacking the bike pump with increased vigour when the situation obviously demanded it. She had visions of an inflatable woman appearing any moment from behind the consol that ‘oh’ grin on her plastic face. Eventually the shaking stopped as she tried not to smile and the vibration slowed to something more manageable.
‘Is it my head or is the room shaking?’ she asked as she slowly rolled to one side.
‘Probably your head, you gave it one hell of a crack when you fell; besides, the Tardis doesn’t shake, she glides.’
‘The what, the Cardis?’ she said as she scrambled to her feet, holding her head as she moved, trying to stop the room spinning and repressing nausea.
‘The Tardis, Time and Relative Dimensions in Space, Tardis.’ Moving to the left he continued with the bike pump, then, lifting his right leg, flipped a second switch with his toe. ‘She can move freely in the fourth and fifth dimensions… well relatively so… I mean…’
‘Look,’ she said, cutting him off from another verbal, freefalling tirade, ‘whatever you’re talking about, shut up, I don’t care. Direct me to the ladies and then to the bar and we’ll call it even.’ Removing from her pocket two sheets of toilet roll she had taken from a previous pub, she began dabbing at her forehead.
‘The ladies is through that door, turn left, head forward for two hundred yards, turn right at the statue of Rassilon, then right again at the swimming pool, but avoid the yeti, not too sure if it’s been decommissioned. I’ll get around to it sometime. Certain environments set it off; electric fields, black holes you know... Anyway, what was I talking about…oh yes, the ladies? Just turn left then right and it’s there…I think…well it was fifty years ago. It’s not a place I’ve ever visited.’
‘Hold it…hold it right there.’ The slim man stopped in his tracks, one leg poised on top of a keypad, his left hand mid thrust on the bike pump with both hands on separate switches. ‘The bar man, the bar, I need a drink. Jack and coke, with ice.’
‘Ice?’ the thin man, paused again in mid thrust of the bike pump, a questioning look in his face.
‘Not in the drink daft lad, for my head.’
‘Ice. Now that’s in the kitchen’, he gestured with his free hand, a smug grin on his face as if knowing the location of the kitchen was a great achievement. ‘Head down the corridor, turn left at the coat stand with the scarf on it, I liked that scarf. An old lady knit it for me, she was a witty knitter…’
‘There you go, off again. Focus man, focus.’ The vibration stopped and her vision cleared to the extent that she could now see everything. She was standing in a square room with a centre consol, the middle of which was made of what looked like plastic and was moving steadily up and down. Two doors led off from the main room, one she had come in by and a second, which the thin man had been gesturing towards headed off in the opposite direction. The biggest shock she felt was the undeniable realisation that there was no bar.
‘Ok, now focus on my voice,’
‘I was…’
‘Hush, listen, and don’t speak, and get off that table. I’m sure you and the table have an excellent relationship going but… not in front of the children, you know what I mean.’ The thin man stood up from his spread-eagled position and dusting himself off walked towards her.
‘Right…now…this isn’t The Angel is it?’ Knowing that he wasn’t aloud to speak the thin man shook his head. ‘And this place is…?’ She let the question hang in the air as she gestured with her free hand.
Through clenched teeth and tight lips he tried to replay. ‘Err…mmm.’
In frustration she shook her head. ‘Speak…but keep it short, before one of us gets stabbed in the face with a frozen fish. You get my drift?’ She looked at him menacingly, wrinkling her brow as she spoke.
The man nodded and despite her obvious menace smiled. ‘Hi,’ he said ‘I’m the Doctor,’ and extended his right hand. She cautiously took it while checking out his unfashionably blue suit.
‘Doctor of what?’ she asked as her gaze travelled down towards his red and white trainers, hiding behind a dark brown coat.
‘Just the Doctor; and you are?’ slowly she shook his hand.
‘Louise Ruth… look … I need to apologise.’ Still shaking his hand she again let her eyes wander around at the unusual décor. ‘It seems I ran into your house by mistake. I mean…’ he cut her off as his smile increased.
‘You thought it was the Angel?’ It was her turn to nod and smile. Realising she was still shaking his hand she quickly withdrew it. ‘So… you go to this Angel a lot then?’ She nodded and tentatively touched the lump on the side of her head.
‘Off and on, off and…on, but I’m no alcoholic. I just need to relax sometimes, you know… after a hard days work and all that.’ Removing her hand she checked it for blood and was surprised to see there wasn’t any. ‘Barman’s a bit pretentious though, doing a masters in English. He likes to be called Alonzo but I’m sure his name’s Alan.’ She said the name with comic emphasised, moving her head from side to side as she spoke.
The Doctor’s eyes lit up. ‘Alonzo?’ He questioned and Louise nodded in replay, quickly wishing she hadn’t as the feeling of dizziness and wanting to be sick momentarily returned.
‘Yes he says he’s French, would you believe… with a name like Alonzo?’ The Doctor looked aghast.
‘French?’ he was almost lost for words. Not understanding his interest she nodded then smiled mischievously.
‘When he leaves the pub with his girlfriend you never guess what she says to him?’
The Doctor backed off waving his hands in front of him as he walked. ‘No don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.’
‘Allons-y Alonzo.’ Louise said with a smile. Then realising the effect she was having on the Doctor she looked confused. ‘Are you OK… er… Doctor?’ Lifting his head she realised that he was laughing.
‘I’ve always wanted to say that…well I did once but that was on the Titanic…not the real Titanic…well she was real but not the one…anyway.’ He paused as if for breath them smiled. ‘Welcome to the Tardis Louise Ruth.’
Chapter Two
Welcome to Alexandria
‘What do you think?’ the Doctor asked, gesturing with both arms. Louise backed slightly away from him and pretended to look around but was in fact locating the door she came in by.
‘Very… nice.’ She forced out. ‘More than a little creepy and… for that matter so are you.’ The Doctor walked towards her his arms still outstretched. ‘Back off skinny.’ She rummaged in her pockets for something she could use to defend herself but found nothing. ‘I’ve got a… you know.’
He smiled and stopped moving. ‘Yes… a frozen fish, if I’m correct and you’re going to stab me with it.’ He paused to think tilting his head on a slight angle like a puppy contemplating a role of toilet paper. ‘Why a frozen fish… I mean of all the things to threaten a chap with.’
‘Yes… it was the first thing I thought of. I mean I couldn’t say a gun or a knife, that’s a bit too… you know… violent.’
‘But a fish and a frozen one at that, no violence there I see.’
‘Well smarty-pants if it wasn’t frozen it would flop about all over the place. Anyway I once cut myself on a frozen fish in my Dads freezer, so there… they are dangerous.’ As if thinking the problem through the Doctor nodded his head, smiled and made a mental note to avoid frozen fish… and freezers, and her dad if he ever bumped into him.
Heading towards the door, Louise realised that getting out of there was a priority, especially now the frozen fish threat was null-and-void.
‘Don’t open that door, we haven’t landed yet.’ The Doctor shouted as Louise reached for the door handle. Louise looked back at him incredulously as she ignored his warning and opened the outside door. Running up behind her the Doctor just managed to grab hold of the back of her coat before she stepped out and fell from the TARDIS’s protection field.
‘What the hell is this and where did Durham go?’ Louise said with a gasp of horror as the Doctor pulled her back inside.
‘That, my young friend is space. Isn’t it beautiful? There’s a whole universe out there teaming with life. Just waiting to be explored.’
Louise shook her head, ‘Space…as in black and filled with stars.’ The Doctor nodded and smiled, not able to drag his eyes away form the spectacle in front of him. ‘Beautiful, isn’t the word I would use. Big, black and scary is how I’d describe it.’
The Doctor closed the door as she backed away from him. The TARDIS continued to tumble and turn in the space-time vortex unperturbed by it’s human inhabitants.
‘You…you spiked my drink, didn’t you. You’ve slipped me some GBH or something, haven’t you and I’m hallucinating.’ The Doctor shook his head,
‘You haven’t drank anything since you came in.’ The Doctor followed her, still smiling. Realising that he was right her mind ran in overload trying to make sense of what was going on.
‘So we are in a space and time ship and we are travelling through… for want of a better word…space?’ The Doctor nodded and was just about to say something when the centre consol stopped moving. Quickly he ran over to the controls and pulled out a small visual monitor.
‘You’re in luck… we’re not travelling in space anymore.’
‘Thank goodness for that.’ She said with a sigh of relief, which was short lived. ‘Then what about…’
The Doctor cut her off in mid sentence. ‘We’ve landed.’
Louise Ruth looked incredulous. ‘Landed!’ She exclaimed. ‘Well yippee do.’ Looking the Doctor in the eye she smiled. ‘Look thin man, if this is a space ship then where is the crew, or are you on your own?’ She gestured to the centre consol, referring to his gymnastics.
‘I was with… well… am…’ With a wave of her hand Louise Ruth gestured for him to be quiet. Turning towards the door he had just left the Doctor approached it cautiously, Louise Ruth following close behind. As he opened the strange blue door with backwards writing illuminated above it, Louise Ruth expected to see rain hammering down onto the streets of Durham City, but was not ready for the view that now filled the doorframe.
‘Welcome, Louise Ruth, to the city of Alexandria,’ the Doctor said as he strode out into the Mediterranean sunshine. Immediately the Doctor stopped, checking the sun and surrounding buildings he removed a small, silver and blue pen-like object. Accompanied by a slight buzzing sound the Doctor announced… ‘about 400… 450 AC… give or take a few hundred years.’ Filled with amazement Louise Ruth stood in the burning sunlight, her mouth wide open and the rain quickly evaporating from her black coat.
‘Right…’ the Doctor said as he turned towards Louise Ruth with a smile. ‘First you’ll need to rethink your clothing, there’s a coat stand just inside the TARDIS door and… well… there’s more suitable things to wear, left over from Barbara and Chesterton, in a room just off the control room.’ The Doctor paused looking Louise Ruth up and down and realising that Barbara was a lot shorter than she was. ‘Mix and match, you know… whatever fits.’
Turning, an embarrassed grin on his face, the Doctor continued to scan the area. Smiling and turning Louise Ruth stopped dead in her tracks. Standing in front of her was an old police telephone box; just like one she had seen in the centre of Glasgow selling coffee and cappuccinos. A light flashed bright on the top and the air around the box still reverberated with the essence of the TARDIS’ arrival. It’s faded blue colouring resembled old painted wood, peeling in places and highlighted by small pains of glass, some broken in places, which traversed the top of the box.
‘What the Hell’ Quickly she ran around the blue box to see if the back stretched out further than it appeared from the front. After only a few seconds she appeared from the rear of the box still taking in everything about it. Slowly she walked up to one side and reaching out, touched it.
The Doctor looked on smiling, his arms folded in front of him. The human nature of inquisitiveness never ceased to amaze him. After a few seconds she stood on tiptoe and tried to gaze in through one of the frosted glass windows but from the look on her face was disappointed. She noticed that each side was identical in every way except for the entrance which was adorned with a white notice covered in black writing announcing that in fact it was a police call box and available for public use. Stepping back into the interior she gave it a quick once over then returned her gaze back on the Doctor, who was nodding and smiling, as if aware of what she was going to say next. What surprised the Doctor was not her off handed tone but her immediate acceptance of the situation and the words that followed her undoubted conclusion.
‘You travel through time and space in that.’ She gestured to the TARDIS, shaking her head. Without another word she strode off back into the TARDIS to hunt out something more suitable to wear.
After a considerable time looking, Louise Ruth finally found the room the Doctor had mentioned. Scattered about the floor and stored in old boxes, were masses of clothes. Rail upon rail of garments covering every era of time and probably space adorned the walls. Rifling through them she found an old cricketing pullover and matching blazer with, of all things, a piece of celery fastened to one of the lapels. A large, brown, fur coat hung next to it followed by a black cape with red silk lining. Smiling she picked up a few garments and held them in front of her as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Nice… how much?’ she said in a Mediterranean accent.
Twenty minutes later she stood in the TARDIS doorway and looked around. It seemed to her that they had landed on a beach of mixed sand and pebbles that fell steeply down to a bright blue Mediterranean Sea. The sun shone bright above in the thick blue sky, not a cloud in sight. The horizon stretched out like a straight, uninterrupted line, bending only slightly as it followed the earths curve. A slight wind blew ruffling her hair and cooling her skin as the suns rays beat down upon her. By the time she re-emerged, back in her rather lighter and cooler garments, a mixture of styles and ages, the sun was high in the sky shining bright across the land. She stepped out of the TARDIS, feeling the sand crunch beneath her Doctor Scholl sandals, once popular in the nineteen eighties, as she walked towards the Doctor. Despite the breeze it was hot and she could feel sweat gathering beneath the Roman tunic she had selected.
‘I hate the sun, too bright.’ She said walking towards the Doctor who was squatting on a sand dune and examining the empty horizon with great interest. Vegetation was sparse, with rocks protruding at unnatural angles from the ground hidden by numerous bushes. Beyond them, as if built into the hillside, stood a city of towers and buildings painted white and hiding in the landscape, floating through the heat haze like a mirage. Removing a black pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses from a nineteen sixties shoulder bag slung across her back, Louise Ruth gazed out at the city that lay before her, with amazement.
Turning to the Doctor, she was just about to say something, when he leapt to his feet with a start. ‘There… over there can you see them?’ He pointed out to the distant horizon stepping back as he did so. Louise Ruth noticed a flotilla of ships traversing across the horizon battling against a breeze she couldn’t see.
‘Right… so this is Alexandria… and where may I ask is that?’
The Doctor smiled, excitement clearly showing on his face as he turned towards her. ‘Not so much where… although it’s in Egypt… but when.’
Louise Ruth shook her head. ‘Lost me again, my man.’ She grabbed hold of both of his lapels so that he had to face her. ‘The Egypt part I’ve got. I’m not that thick, but… the when?’ Letting go the Doctor backed off slightly.
‘You’re looking at the ancient city of Alexandria during the Ptolemaic dynasty, and that…’ he gestured towards a large, imposing building in the centre of the town near the harbour ‘…is the Royal Library of Alexandria, one of the largest libraries of the ancient world and we… my young friend… have to save all the writings there in.’
Turning, the Doctor took purposeful strides towards the city, a large grin seeming to cover his entire face.
‘Save the library?’ Louise Ruth followed closely behind. ‘Save it from what?’
The doctor shook his head. ‘No… not the library, that burns down. We need to save the scrolls and writings inside.’
Avoiding a section of rocks that protruded from he ground, attempting to trip her, Louise Ruth tried to keep pace with the shorter, but more agile man. ‘Who would burn down a library? I mean… it seems a bit harsh. They could just return the book…’
‘They don’t have books as we know them, they write on scrolls or parchments.’
Suitably chased Louise Ruth continued. ‘Sorry scrolls.’ Pausing for a few seconds to gather her thoughts she continued, now slightly out of breath from the speed the Doctor was moving. ‘Why don’t they just pay the fine and have done with it. No need to burn the place down, I would have thought.’
The Doctor stopped and turned towards Louise Ruth as if considering her answer. Turning back, he headed back towards the city. ‘Do you remember Julius Caesar, Rome, Anthony and Cleopatra?’
Louise Ruth nodded at the Doctors patronising words. ‘Friends, Romans and countrymen lend me your ears… and all of that. Yes I did go to school you know. I might not look it but I do have a degree in English.’
‘Brilliant!’ The Doctor exclaimed loudly as a crowd began to form in front of them. All, it seemed waiting to gain entrance to the city.
‘Well he first had a go at burning down the library around 48 BC. I managed to get most of the writing out but had to leave suddenly when my presence was no longer suffered.’ The Doctor coughed, remembering the chase through the streets, the Roman soldiers close behind, snapping at his heels like a pack of hounds. He shook off the memory and continued walking.
‘Well this time I’m hoping to get the rest or at least a copy of what they’ve got before Cyril burns it.’ Louise Ruth stopped the Doctor with an outstretched hand.
'Cyril?’ The Doctor nodded. ‘There’s a Roman called Cyril?’ The Doctor shook his head.
‘Thank goodness for that.’ The Doctor continued walking.
‘He’s Egyptian, Cyril of Alexandria, they call him, and he’s in charge and has been since 412.’
'Cyril?’ Louise Ruth repeated, still not believing it. Oblivious to this the Doctor continued.
‘A nice chap…distinguished himself by his violence against any deviation from, what he considered as orthodox faith. He expelled the Novatians from their church, and robbed their treasury. He also led, in person, a mob which drove all Jews away from Alexandria in 415. He felt it his mission to destroy all remains of idolatry in the city and so burned down the Serapeum.’
‘What a bastard… Cyril… ha, ha, ha. Serves him right,’ Louise added with a smile.
‘And that’s were we’re going before the fire starts.’ Between the two soldiers a sign above their head stated that By decree of Ptolemy II of Egypt, all visitors to the city were required to surrender all books and scrolls.
As they approached the first soldier the Doctor lent forward and said a few words to her which to her were inaudible. Without further hyperbole the soldier let him through. As Louise tried to follow a strong arm was placed on her shoulder.
‘Are you bringing any writings into the city.’ The soldier said motioning towards Louise’s shoulder bag. Not too sure what was in the bag Louise opened it and gazed at the contents. There were two items in the bag, which could be classed as writing so Louise Ruth removed them both. The first was her copy of the Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, which she handed over with regret. It was her most loved book of all time and she was never without it. Her father had bought it for her while she was studying for her degree and it had been a constant companion.
‘It’s a codex.’ The first soldier said waving it above his head in triumph. The crowd looked at her with heightened respect. She was either someone of importance or extremely wealthy to carry a codex around with her.
‘I better get that back or there’ll be trouble,’ she said with a look of sadness as the book left her outstretched grasp.
The second piece of writing was a slightly worn leaflet on Chlamydia. Desperately she tried to return the leaflet to her bag but was immediately stopped by the second soldier. Relinquishing it into his stronger grasp she looked on suitably embarrassed. Before she had time to explain that she hadn’t bothered to check the bag before she’d left the TARDIS, a note was thrust in her hand and she was told to move on. Not looking back she examined the note which told her that her journals would be returned to her when she decided to leave the city and could pick them up at the House of Muses.
‘Like I’m going to pick up a Chlamydia leaflet before I leave… I don’t think so, but Dorian Gray…’ Hurrying she caught up with the Doctor as he rounded a corner, the smile, if it could possibly be, was larger than she had previously seen.
‘Welcome, Louise Ruth, to Royal Quarter, and this must be the House of Muses. It’s where you get the term museum.’ Passing a stall selling seafood of all kinds the Doctor thought for a while and smiled. ‘You could be amused at muscles in the Muses.’
Louise shook her head as she followed the Doctor. ‘There’s hope for some…anyway you owe me a copy of Dorian Gray when we’ve finished here,’ she said, the loss laying heavily on her mind. ‘You’ve probably never read it but it was a present from my father.’
The Doctor turned towards her and smiled. ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray is the only published novel written by Oscar Wilde. I read it in a copy of Lippincott's Monthly Magazine back in…oh…let me see… 1890, I think,’ he paused as Louise smiled,
‘Don’t tell me… give or take a few years.’ The Doctor nodded and continued.
‘I have a copy by Ward, Lock and Company in the TARDIS somewhere. You can have it if you don’t get yours back. It was published in 1891 but it’s still in excellent condition.’
Dorian Gray temporarily forgotten Louise Ruth gazed around at the spectacle unfolding before her. ‘Anyway… tell me again why we’re here?’
Without breaking his stride the Doctor talked as he walked. ‘The library was initially organized by Demetrius of Phaleron, a student of Aristotle under the reign of Ptolemy Soter. A more annoying man you wouldn’t wish to meet. Unfortunately… someone accidentally told him, while he was rabbiting on and on about his library, that in 48 BC it would burn down and all the writings would be lost. Well… one thing led to another and I promised him that I would transport as many scrolls as I could to a place in the 51st century known as ‘The Library’. It’s a planet-sized book repository that stores every book imagined.’
Passing through the magnificent gardens the Doctor and Louise walked unmolested towards the acquisitions and cataloguing department, the closest point to the harbour. ‘So here we are. The Great Hall, the greatest collection of scrolls in the world.’ The Doctor gestured with both arms as they entered, what looked like, a giant hall.
Part 2
Author: George Laws
Summary: The Doctor vists another library
Rating: PG I suppose
Characters: 10, OFC
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Neither myself or my Dad own Doctor Who
Introduction
The walk was always the same for him. Let’s be frank, he did it with style. The squeak of his Converse trainers on the wet floor and the swish of the long, brown coat were the only things that marked his passing. His height and build were…well ordinary, as was his face. Average, the grey man if there ever was one. He had a face you would instantly forget, lost forever in a crowd of similar faces. That is if it wasn’t for his eyes. Those eyes that burned into your soul. They were eyes that had seen everything and reflected as much. They could be kind, gentle and even loving but they could never hide what they were. If eyes were the windows to the soul then these eyes looked out from a soul that had been in torment for millennia.
Hands thrust deeply into the pockets of a blue suit, he strode on, not looking back, not even reflecting on past events. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let himself ponder on what had occurred. One ounce of regret, one moment of indecision and he would fall into the abyss that was the complexity of his own mind. He had to be focused, ready for the next chapter, ready for anything without the baggage that pulled constantly at his subconscious.
He knew that they wouldn’t understand. He had lived almost a thousand years and he scarcely understood himself. It was the big picture that he lived for, the happy ending that always seemed to be just out of his grasp. Was he the good guy or was he the bad guy? The answer was neither. Like time itself he stood outside gazing in, wondering, hoping and acting. He longed for the peace and serenity that he had been promised the day he was born. None of his race would, or could have achieved it but it was there; there for the taking if only he could.
Life had been simple when he was young. All he wanted to do was learn, observe and enjoy the gift of life that he had been granted by the Architect, the author of life. His home was a lifetime ago, a lifetime of death, destruction and loneliness. He remembered his home well; the heat of the twin suns burning down upon him through the glass dome that encapsulated the entire city. The burnt orange sky filled with beauty and colour. Then like his predecessor he had turned his back on his creator and ran in the opposite direction. Only for him, it wasn’t a giant whale that brought him back in line; it was a small blue box. It wasn’t fair. People came and went in his life and all he could do was observe. He did enjoy the company while it was there but deep down he knew it wouldn’t last. At best he would get five years of friendship, companionship and enjoyment, then they would be off, back to their normal lives remembering that once, just once they had travelled with him.
In the normal way of things he would say that he was lonely, but the word itself didn’t do the way he felt, any kind of justice. Some days he would feel it worse than others. Those days he liked to forget but they were there, ever present, ever demanding, tugging constantly on his emotions. Fuelled with misery and self-pity he would visit the place where, and when, his friends were buried. He would stand back and watch as they were lowered into their graves and he would feel it. He had never cried, never could, that would have been a release for him. He just stood there and let the pain and depression wash over him like a giant wave of despair. His eyes would redden and his voice would crack and go altogether until he could bare it no longer. He was tired, so very tired and alone. He supposed that if anyone lived long enough they would always end up alone. Everything began as dust and would always turn to dust in the end. Quickly turning he would head back to his giant whale and wait to see where the forces, the powers that guided his every move, wanted him to go to next.
People never understood; they couldn’t. Life for them was one long round of survival and forcing enjoyment from the experience until his companions’ brief time was up, but not for him. There was no release for him, ever. He had to sit back, watch and endure. He’d tried to end it many times but to no avail. The creator had placed a lot of stock in his ability to get out of trouble faster than he got into it. He had died ten times now, each existence lasting hundreds of years. He’d been in impossible situations that defied the odds and still came out breathing. No…he couldn’t die…the architect wouldn’t let him.
There wasn’t just him, he knew that, but he never saw anyone else. He’d arrive at a place or event in time and know that someone had previously been there but had left. He’d jump into the ‘blue whale’ and wonder who would arrive after he left. Everyone knew who ‘they’ were yet no one could categorically state that they existed. Religions, cultures and times had different names for who he was but none would stand up and announce that he was among them. Flittering in and out of time, one culture had called them angels but that was a description of something he certainly wasn’t.
Life came and went and he always stayed the same…well almost the same. Given the choice he wouldn’t be who he was. Given the choice he would take parts of all the people that he had been, all the best parts and put them into one perfect body. But what would he pick. No one was good enough, not even him, whoever or whatever he had been. Like the ever-changing view out of the front door of his home, his life would continue to turn. No, useless killings or great gestures would not end his existence until the time that had been set-aside for him came into being.
He was driven, no doubt, but not personally. The higher power that watched over him and his kind had the last say. That was the problem back at his home; they never understood the true depth of their own existence. He could have taken that path and followed their every whim but that wasn’t for him. It was as if he had been given a series of pathways to chose from but told that he was taking a specific one whether he liked it or not. No matter how much he tried to deviate from that pathway he would be dragged, kicking and screaming back onto his original course. His face may change, his body may appear younger or older, but eventually he will toe the line. Despite himself, his own personal deviations threw him in the right direction. If he thought about which way the Creator wanted him to go and did the complete opposite he knew he would be heading where he was needed. Even doing nothing was action and not an opposite. Whether he spent time perfecting his ‘walk the dog’ technique or eating jelly babies, events would overtake him and he would be thrown headlong into another crazy adventure.
With a smile, miles away from mirth, rain spat then poured down on him. It wasn’t long before his coat was dripping wet and puddles began to form about his feet. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse they usually did. Someone, he thought had a sense of humour. But, he supposed, he couldn’t complain. In the great scheme of things ‘Who’ was he! He began to laugh as rainwater soaked his trainers and dripped off the end of his nose.
Chapter One
Allons-y Alonzo
It wasn’t her day. It’s never her day. Other people have days, weeks and even years but not her. She’d lost her job, her boyfriend…her ‘boy’ friend didn’t think he should see her any more and some bastard had taken her final wage from her account leaving her with squat. Identity fraud, they’d said, what a load of rubbish. The bank had stolen it; they were against her; everyone was against her. She’d get drunk but she hadn’t two-pound coins to scratch her arse with. Why does this sort of thing always happen to her, why? She wasn’t unattractive. Well…at least she’d seen a lot worse. She’d even gone out with a few but to no avail. All she wanted was to be happy, to be anything, to be something other than what she was. It was as if she was living in limbo, waiting for the job, the man, the two point five kinds and a way of life she could happily complain about. But it hadn’t even started. She was standing on the edge of the abyss, waiting, looking in and the abyss was staring back at her, pissing itself with laughter.
She needed to be able to relax and enjoy herself, she needed alcohol to blur out the disappointment she felt and sheer miserable-ness that burned away deep inside. She was better than this. She was meant for more than this. She was fit, healthy, intelligent, willing to work, willing to do anything reasonable. But…where was the stuff? Where were the jobs, money, holidays, husband, house, two point five kids and all the rest of the crap that keeps you occupied until you die?
‘I want it and I want it now,’ she shouted up at the darkening sky. ‘Oh…nice, it’s going to rain. That’s all I need. Do you hear me God, that’s all I need.’ Rain hit her face in great clusters of water that stung her at first then soaked her hair and ran off the black raincoat she wore.
A tearing sound echoed above her and the night filled with light as thunder boar down upon her. ‘Shit’ she exclaimed and ran as fast as she could. ‘Sorry God, I didn’t mean it. You know how it is. That time of the month and everything.’
Head down she ran, her trainers squelching in the water that drenched the streets around her. Lightening flashed across the sky turning night into day as she ran. ‘The Angel’ was around here somewhere. If she could make it there perhaps things would be better. Up ahead she noticed a solitary figure opening a door and headed in that direction as darkness took over and blotted out her view. ‘Hold the door,’ she screamed as she barrelled right on through pushing him out of the way as she entered. She had enough for one pint then that was it. Totally and utterly broke.
Shaking the rain from her coat she looked around for the ladies. Dry herself off then straight to the bar. Walking she scanned the room for the first time. It’s amazing how many times you walk into a pub without knowing where the toilets were. Without asking, you wander around hoping amongst hope that a sign will pop out and tell you where to go before the barman demands you buy something. But not this time, no sign was evident, or chairs, or tables, or as a matter of fact drinkers.
That’s just typical of these places, she thought. Since the ban on cigarette smoking in public establishments no one goes out for a drink anymore. Stopping at what looked like a reception area she let her eyes take in the surroundings. The lighting was subdued and the walls were decorated in what looked like small protruding circles painted in pail orange. Placing her hand on the desk for support she realised that it wasn’t a reception area but a stand-alone desk, circular and filled to the brim with handles, lights and buttons of every kind.
‘What the h…’ she never finished the sentence as the thin figure she had shouldered out of the way to get in, neatly returned the compliment. Turning she stood speechless as he began flicking switches, pushing buttons and using something that resembled a bicycle pump, attached to the centre consol, in a vicious up and down motion. Immediately a large plastic cylinder, which was the centre of the consol flashed, sparked and began moving up and down. The thin man ran around the opposite side of the table and pushed more buttons as smoke bellowed all around and a small fire erupted in one corner.
‘The extinguisher!’ he shouted pointing at her. ‘Behind you, the fire extinguisher.’ Turning she noticed a small, black Co2 extinguisher hanging from a nail in one corner. Grabbing hold of it she pulled out the retaining pin and aimed it at the fire, which by now was increasing in size. White carbon dioxide gas exploded out of the black nozzle and the fire immediately abated.
‘Right, hang on!’ he shouted over the noise but too late. The ground seemed to move beneath her throwing her to the floor. The extinguisher flew from her hand as she tried to grab the centre consol for balance. An explosion rocked her ears as her head connected with the side of the consol and blackness took over.
It was the noise that woke her, the constant, rhythmical pulse that throbbed in her head. Slowly, carefully she tried to sit up then quickly realised what a bad idea that had been.
‘No, no, no, just sit there for a while. You really cracked your head.’ Turning slightly towards the voice she saw the thin man running around the consol adjusting levers, flipping switches and attacking the bike pump with increased vigour when the situation obviously demanded it. She had visions of an inflatable woman appearing any moment from behind the consol that ‘oh’ grin on her plastic face. Eventually the shaking stopped as she tried not to smile and the vibration slowed to something more manageable.
‘Is it my head or is the room shaking?’ she asked as she slowly rolled to one side.
‘Probably your head, you gave it one hell of a crack when you fell; besides, the Tardis doesn’t shake, she glides.’
‘The what, the Cardis?’ she said as she scrambled to her feet, holding her head as she moved, trying to stop the room spinning and repressing nausea.
‘The Tardis, Time and Relative Dimensions in Space, Tardis.’ Moving to the left he continued with the bike pump, then, lifting his right leg, flipped a second switch with his toe. ‘She can move freely in the fourth and fifth dimensions… well relatively so… I mean…’
‘Look,’ she said, cutting him off from another verbal, freefalling tirade, ‘whatever you’re talking about, shut up, I don’t care. Direct me to the ladies and then to the bar and we’ll call it even.’ Removing from her pocket two sheets of toilet roll she had taken from a previous pub, she began dabbing at her forehead.
‘The ladies is through that door, turn left, head forward for two hundred yards, turn right at the statue of Rassilon, then right again at the swimming pool, but avoid the yeti, not too sure if it’s been decommissioned. I’ll get around to it sometime. Certain environments set it off; electric fields, black holes you know... Anyway, what was I talking about…oh yes, the ladies? Just turn left then right and it’s there…I think…well it was fifty years ago. It’s not a place I’ve ever visited.’
‘Hold it…hold it right there.’ The slim man stopped in his tracks, one leg poised on top of a keypad, his left hand mid thrust on the bike pump with both hands on separate switches. ‘The bar man, the bar, I need a drink. Jack and coke, with ice.’
‘Ice?’ the thin man, paused again in mid thrust of the bike pump, a questioning look in his face.
‘Not in the drink daft lad, for my head.’
‘Ice. Now that’s in the kitchen’, he gestured with his free hand, a smug grin on his face as if knowing the location of the kitchen was a great achievement. ‘Head down the corridor, turn left at the coat stand with the scarf on it, I liked that scarf. An old lady knit it for me, she was a witty knitter…’
‘There you go, off again. Focus man, focus.’ The vibration stopped and her vision cleared to the extent that she could now see everything. She was standing in a square room with a centre consol, the middle of which was made of what looked like plastic and was moving steadily up and down. Two doors led off from the main room, one she had come in by and a second, which the thin man had been gesturing towards headed off in the opposite direction. The biggest shock she felt was the undeniable realisation that there was no bar.
‘Ok, now focus on my voice,’
‘I was…’
‘Hush, listen, and don’t speak, and get off that table. I’m sure you and the table have an excellent relationship going but… not in front of the children, you know what I mean.’ The thin man stood up from his spread-eagled position and dusting himself off walked towards her.
‘Right…now…this isn’t The Angel is it?’ Knowing that he wasn’t aloud to speak the thin man shook his head. ‘And this place is…?’ She let the question hang in the air as she gestured with her free hand.
Through clenched teeth and tight lips he tried to replay. ‘Err…mmm.’
In frustration she shook her head. ‘Speak…but keep it short, before one of us gets stabbed in the face with a frozen fish. You get my drift?’ She looked at him menacingly, wrinkling her brow as she spoke.
The man nodded and despite her obvious menace smiled. ‘Hi,’ he said ‘I’m the Doctor,’ and extended his right hand. She cautiously took it while checking out his unfashionably blue suit.
‘Doctor of what?’ she asked as her gaze travelled down towards his red and white trainers, hiding behind a dark brown coat.
‘Just the Doctor; and you are?’ slowly she shook his hand.
‘Louise Ruth… look … I need to apologise.’ Still shaking his hand she again let her eyes wander around at the unusual décor. ‘It seems I ran into your house by mistake. I mean…’ he cut her off as his smile increased.
‘You thought it was the Angel?’ It was her turn to nod and smile. Realising she was still shaking his hand she quickly withdrew it. ‘So… you go to this Angel a lot then?’ She nodded and tentatively touched the lump on the side of her head.
‘Off and on, off and…on, but I’m no alcoholic. I just need to relax sometimes, you know… after a hard days work and all that.’ Removing her hand she checked it for blood and was surprised to see there wasn’t any. ‘Barman’s a bit pretentious though, doing a masters in English. He likes to be called Alonzo but I’m sure his name’s Alan.’ She said the name with comic emphasised, moving her head from side to side as she spoke.
The Doctor’s eyes lit up. ‘Alonzo?’ He questioned and Louise nodded in replay, quickly wishing she hadn’t as the feeling of dizziness and wanting to be sick momentarily returned.
‘Yes he says he’s French, would you believe… with a name like Alonzo?’ The Doctor looked aghast.
‘French?’ he was almost lost for words. Not understanding his interest she nodded then smiled mischievously.
‘When he leaves the pub with his girlfriend you never guess what she says to him?’
The Doctor backed off waving his hands in front of him as he walked. ‘No don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.’
‘Allons-y Alonzo.’ Louise said with a smile. Then realising the effect she was having on the Doctor she looked confused. ‘Are you OK… er… Doctor?’ Lifting his head she realised that he was laughing.
‘I’ve always wanted to say that…well I did once but that was on the Titanic…not the real Titanic…well she was real but not the one…anyway.’ He paused as if for breath them smiled. ‘Welcome to the Tardis Louise Ruth.’
Chapter Two
Welcome to Alexandria
‘What do you think?’ the Doctor asked, gesturing with both arms. Louise backed slightly away from him and pretended to look around but was in fact locating the door she came in by.
‘Very… nice.’ She forced out. ‘More than a little creepy and… for that matter so are you.’ The Doctor walked towards her his arms still outstretched. ‘Back off skinny.’ She rummaged in her pockets for something she could use to defend herself but found nothing. ‘I’ve got a… you know.’
He smiled and stopped moving. ‘Yes… a frozen fish, if I’m correct and you’re going to stab me with it.’ He paused to think tilting his head on a slight angle like a puppy contemplating a role of toilet paper. ‘Why a frozen fish… I mean of all the things to threaten a chap with.’
‘Yes… it was the first thing I thought of. I mean I couldn’t say a gun or a knife, that’s a bit too… you know… violent.’
‘But a fish and a frozen one at that, no violence there I see.’
‘Well smarty-pants if it wasn’t frozen it would flop about all over the place. Anyway I once cut myself on a frozen fish in my Dads freezer, so there… they are dangerous.’ As if thinking the problem through the Doctor nodded his head, smiled and made a mental note to avoid frozen fish… and freezers, and her dad if he ever bumped into him.
Heading towards the door, Louise realised that getting out of there was a priority, especially now the frozen fish threat was null-and-void.
‘Don’t open that door, we haven’t landed yet.’ The Doctor shouted as Louise reached for the door handle. Louise looked back at him incredulously as she ignored his warning and opened the outside door. Running up behind her the Doctor just managed to grab hold of the back of her coat before she stepped out and fell from the TARDIS’s protection field.
‘What the hell is this and where did Durham go?’ Louise said with a gasp of horror as the Doctor pulled her back inside.
‘That, my young friend is space. Isn’t it beautiful? There’s a whole universe out there teaming with life. Just waiting to be explored.’
Louise shook her head, ‘Space…as in black and filled with stars.’ The Doctor nodded and smiled, not able to drag his eyes away form the spectacle in front of him. ‘Beautiful, isn’t the word I would use. Big, black and scary is how I’d describe it.’
The Doctor closed the door as she backed away from him. The TARDIS continued to tumble and turn in the space-time vortex unperturbed by it’s human inhabitants.
‘You…you spiked my drink, didn’t you. You’ve slipped me some GBH or something, haven’t you and I’m hallucinating.’ The Doctor shook his head,
‘You haven’t drank anything since you came in.’ The Doctor followed her, still smiling. Realising that he was right her mind ran in overload trying to make sense of what was going on.
‘So we are in a space and time ship and we are travelling through… for want of a better word…space?’ The Doctor nodded and was just about to say something when the centre consol stopped moving. Quickly he ran over to the controls and pulled out a small visual monitor.
‘You’re in luck… we’re not travelling in space anymore.’
‘Thank goodness for that.’ She said with a sigh of relief, which was short lived. ‘Then what about…’
The Doctor cut her off in mid sentence. ‘We’ve landed.’
Louise Ruth looked incredulous. ‘Landed!’ She exclaimed. ‘Well yippee do.’ Looking the Doctor in the eye she smiled. ‘Look thin man, if this is a space ship then where is the crew, or are you on your own?’ She gestured to the centre consol, referring to his gymnastics.
‘I was with… well… am…’ With a wave of her hand Louise Ruth gestured for him to be quiet. Turning towards the door he had just left the Doctor approached it cautiously, Louise Ruth following close behind. As he opened the strange blue door with backwards writing illuminated above it, Louise Ruth expected to see rain hammering down onto the streets of Durham City, but was not ready for the view that now filled the doorframe.
‘Welcome, Louise Ruth, to the city of Alexandria,’ the Doctor said as he strode out into the Mediterranean sunshine. Immediately the Doctor stopped, checking the sun and surrounding buildings he removed a small, silver and blue pen-like object. Accompanied by a slight buzzing sound the Doctor announced… ‘about 400… 450 AC… give or take a few hundred years.’ Filled with amazement Louise Ruth stood in the burning sunlight, her mouth wide open and the rain quickly evaporating from her black coat.
‘Right…’ the Doctor said as he turned towards Louise Ruth with a smile. ‘First you’ll need to rethink your clothing, there’s a coat stand just inside the TARDIS door and… well… there’s more suitable things to wear, left over from Barbara and Chesterton, in a room just off the control room.’ The Doctor paused looking Louise Ruth up and down and realising that Barbara was a lot shorter than she was. ‘Mix and match, you know… whatever fits.’
Turning, an embarrassed grin on his face, the Doctor continued to scan the area. Smiling and turning Louise Ruth stopped dead in her tracks. Standing in front of her was an old police telephone box; just like one she had seen in the centre of Glasgow selling coffee and cappuccinos. A light flashed bright on the top and the air around the box still reverberated with the essence of the TARDIS’ arrival. It’s faded blue colouring resembled old painted wood, peeling in places and highlighted by small pains of glass, some broken in places, which traversed the top of the box.
‘What the Hell’ Quickly she ran around the blue box to see if the back stretched out further than it appeared from the front. After only a few seconds she appeared from the rear of the box still taking in everything about it. Slowly she walked up to one side and reaching out, touched it.
The Doctor looked on smiling, his arms folded in front of him. The human nature of inquisitiveness never ceased to amaze him. After a few seconds she stood on tiptoe and tried to gaze in through one of the frosted glass windows but from the look on her face was disappointed. She noticed that each side was identical in every way except for the entrance which was adorned with a white notice covered in black writing announcing that in fact it was a police call box and available for public use. Stepping back into the interior she gave it a quick once over then returned her gaze back on the Doctor, who was nodding and smiling, as if aware of what she was going to say next. What surprised the Doctor was not her off handed tone but her immediate acceptance of the situation and the words that followed her undoubted conclusion.
‘You travel through time and space in that.’ She gestured to the TARDIS, shaking her head. Without another word she strode off back into the TARDIS to hunt out something more suitable to wear.
After a considerable time looking, Louise Ruth finally found the room the Doctor had mentioned. Scattered about the floor and stored in old boxes, were masses of clothes. Rail upon rail of garments covering every era of time and probably space adorned the walls. Rifling through them she found an old cricketing pullover and matching blazer with, of all things, a piece of celery fastened to one of the lapels. A large, brown, fur coat hung next to it followed by a black cape with red silk lining. Smiling she picked up a few garments and held them in front of her as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Nice… how much?’ she said in a Mediterranean accent.
Twenty minutes later she stood in the TARDIS doorway and looked around. It seemed to her that they had landed on a beach of mixed sand and pebbles that fell steeply down to a bright blue Mediterranean Sea. The sun shone bright above in the thick blue sky, not a cloud in sight. The horizon stretched out like a straight, uninterrupted line, bending only slightly as it followed the earths curve. A slight wind blew ruffling her hair and cooling her skin as the suns rays beat down upon her. By the time she re-emerged, back in her rather lighter and cooler garments, a mixture of styles and ages, the sun was high in the sky shining bright across the land. She stepped out of the TARDIS, feeling the sand crunch beneath her Doctor Scholl sandals, once popular in the nineteen eighties, as she walked towards the Doctor. Despite the breeze it was hot and she could feel sweat gathering beneath the Roman tunic she had selected.
‘I hate the sun, too bright.’ She said walking towards the Doctor who was squatting on a sand dune and examining the empty horizon with great interest. Vegetation was sparse, with rocks protruding at unnatural angles from the ground hidden by numerous bushes. Beyond them, as if built into the hillside, stood a city of towers and buildings painted white and hiding in the landscape, floating through the heat haze like a mirage. Removing a black pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses from a nineteen sixties shoulder bag slung across her back, Louise Ruth gazed out at the city that lay before her, with amazement.
Turning to the Doctor, she was just about to say something, when he leapt to his feet with a start. ‘There… over there can you see them?’ He pointed out to the distant horizon stepping back as he did so. Louise Ruth noticed a flotilla of ships traversing across the horizon battling against a breeze she couldn’t see.
‘Right… so this is Alexandria… and where may I ask is that?’
The Doctor smiled, excitement clearly showing on his face as he turned towards her. ‘Not so much where… although it’s in Egypt… but when.’
Louise Ruth shook her head. ‘Lost me again, my man.’ She grabbed hold of both of his lapels so that he had to face her. ‘The Egypt part I’ve got. I’m not that thick, but… the when?’ Letting go the Doctor backed off slightly.
‘You’re looking at the ancient city of Alexandria during the Ptolemaic dynasty, and that…’ he gestured towards a large, imposing building in the centre of the town near the harbour ‘…is the Royal Library of Alexandria, one of the largest libraries of the ancient world and we… my young friend… have to save all the writings there in.’
Turning, the Doctor took purposeful strides towards the city, a large grin seeming to cover his entire face.
‘Save the library?’ Louise Ruth followed closely behind. ‘Save it from what?’
The doctor shook his head. ‘No… not the library, that burns down. We need to save the scrolls and writings inside.’
Avoiding a section of rocks that protruded from he ground, attempting to trip her, Louise Ruth tried to keep pace with the shorter, but more agile man. ‘Who would burn down a library? I mean… it seems a bit harsh. They could just return the book…’
‘They don’t have books as we know them, they write on scrolls or parchments.’
Suitably chased Louise Ruth continued. ‘Sorry scrolls.’ Pausing for a few seconds to gather her thoughts she continued, now slightly out of breath from the speed the Doctor was moving. ‘Why don’t they just pay the fine and have done with it. No need to burn the place down, I would have thought.’
The Doctor stopped and turned towards Louise Ruth as if considering her answer. Turning back, he headed back towards the city. ‘Do you remember Julius Caesar, Rome, Anthony and Cleopatra?’
Louise Ruth nodded at the Doctors patronising words. ‘Friends, Romans and countrymen lend me your ears… and all of that. Yes I did go to school you know. I might not look it but I do have a degree in English.’
‘Brilliant!’ The Doctor exclaimed loudly as a crowd began to form in front of them. All, it seemed waiting to gain entrance to the city.
‘Well he first had a go at burning down the library around 48 BC. I managed to get most of the writing out but had to leave suddenly when my presence was no longer suffered.’ The Doctor coughed, remembering the chase through the streets, the Roman soldiers close behind, snapping at his heels like a pack of hounds. He shook off the memory and continued walking.
‘Well this time I’m hoping to get the rest or at least a copy of what they’ve got before Cyril burns it.’ Louise Ruth stopped the Doctor with an outstretched hand.
'Cyril?’ The Doctor nodded. ‘There’s a Roman called Cyril?’ The Doctor shook his head.
‘Thank goodness for that.’ The Doctor continued walking.
‘He’s Egyptian, Cyril of Alexandria, they call him, and he’s in charge and has been since 412.’
'Cyril?’ Louise Ruth repeated, still not believing it. Oblivious to this the Doctor continued.
‘A nice chap…distinguished himself by his violence against any deviation from, what he considered as orthodox faith. He expelled the Novatians from their church, and robbed their treasury. He also led, in person, a mob which drove all Jews away from Alexandria in 415. He felt it his mission to destroy all remains of idolatry in the city and so burned down the Serapeum.’
‘What a bastard… Cyril… ha, ha, ha. Serves him right,’ Louise added with a smile.
‘And that’s were we’re going before the fire starts.’ Between the two soldiers a sign above their head stated that By decree of Ptolemy II of Egypt, all visitors to the city were required to surrender all books and scrolls.
As they approached the first soldier the Doctor lent forward and said a few words to her which to her were inaudible. Without further hyperbole the soldier let him through. As Louise tried to follow a strong arm was placed on her shoulder.
‘Are you bringing any writings into the city.’ The soldier said motioning towards Louise’s shoulder bag. Not too sure what was in the bag Louise opened it and gazed at the contents. There were two items in the bag, which could be classed as writing so Louise Ruth removed them both. The first was her copy of the Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, which she handed over with regret. It was her most loved book of all time and she was never without it. Her father had bought it for her while she was studying for her degree and it had been a constant companion.
‘It’s a codex.’ The first soldier said waving it above his head in triumph. The crowd looked at her with heightened respect. She was either someone of importance or extremely wealthy to carry a codex around with her.
‘I better get that back or there’ll be trouble,’ she said with a look of sadness as the book left her outstretched grasp.
The second piece of writing was a slightly worn leaflet on Chlamydia. Desperately she tried to return the leaflet to her bag but was immediately stopped by the second soldier. Relinquishing it into his stronger grasp she looked on suitably embarrassed. Before she had time to explain that she hadn’t bothered to check the bag before she’d left the TARDIS, a note was thrust in her hand and she was told to move on. Not looking back she examined the note which told her that her journals would be returned to her when she decided to leave the city and could pick them up at the House of Muses.
‘Like I’m going to pick up a Chlamydia leaflet before I leave… I don’t think so, but Dorian Gray…’ Hurrying she caught up with the Doctor as he rounded a corner, the smile, if it could possibly be, was larger than she had previously seen.
‘Welcome, Louise Ruth, to Royal Quarter, and this must be the House of Muses. It’s where you get the term museum.’ Passing a stall selling seafood of all kinds the Doctor thought for a while and smiled. ‘You could be amused at muscles in the Muses.’
Louise shook her head as she followed the Doctor. ‘There’s hope for some…anyway you owe me a copy of Dorian Gray when we’ve finished here,’ she said, the loss laying heavily on her mind. ‘You’ve probably never read it but it was a present from my father.’
The Doctor turned towards her and smiled. ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray is the only published novel written by Oscar Wilde. I read it in a copy of Lippincott's Monthly Magazine back in…oh…let me see… 1890, I think,’ he paused as Louise smiled,
‘Don’t tell me… give or take a few years.’ The Doctor nodded and continued.
‘I have a copy by Ward, Lock and Company in the TARDIS somewhere. You can have it if you don’t get yours back. It was published in 1891 but it’s still in excellent condition.’
Dorian Gray temporarily forgotten Louise Ruth gazed around at the spectacle unfolding before her. ‘Anyway… tell me again why we’re here?’
Without breaking his stride the Doctor talked as he walked. ‘The library was initially organized by Demetrius of Phaleron, a student of Aristotle under the reign of Ptolemy Soter. A more annoying man you wouldn’t wish to meet. Unfortunately… someone accidentally told him, while he was rabbiting on and on about his library, that in 48 BC it would burn down and all the writings would be lost. Well… one thing led to another and I promised him that I would transport as many scrolls as I could to a place in the 51st century known as ‘The Library’. It’s a planet-sized book repository that stores every book imagined.’
Passing through the magnificent gardens the Doctor and Louise walked unmolested towards the acquisitions and cataloguing department, the closest point to the harbour. ‘So here we are. The Great Hall, the greatest collection of scrolls in the world.’ The Doctor gestured with both arms as they entered, what looked like, a giant hall.
Part 2