Cold droplets of water splattered across his face. The Doctor sat up. He appeared to be lying on a cobbled street, men in top hats and women with parasols strolling down the streets, taking absolutely no notice of the man in the odd velvet cloak and peculiar dark goggles.
Removing his sonic sunglasses and tucking them into the inner pocket of his coat, the Doctor looked around. "Victorian London, by the looks of it," he said to no one in particular.
As he said this, however, a young woman stepped out onto the street. She tapped her odd-looking bonnet which - much to the Doctor's surprise - spun and whirred into an oddly metallic umbrella.
"Ooooh." The Doctor got to his feet and hurried over to examine it, much to the lady's startlement. "Maybe not so Victorian London, then." Looking up and down, he noted that many of the other parasols were similar mechanisms. Some of the men wore peculiar top hats as well, decorated with gears or goggles.
The Doctor put on his sonic sunglasses again and began analyzing the technology he found on the street. He received many disapproving looks from the passersby who found the odd humming noise emanating from his goggles ungentlemanly.
He had never seen technology like it. Everything seemed put together with a few simple gears. Every mechanism on the street ran purely on clockwork; and yet, each device was ingenious.
"Excuse me," said the Doctor, taking off his sunglasses again and addressing a young chap near him. "What year is it?"
The chap looked at him as though he were insane. "Year, sir?"
"That's right," the Doctor answered, his thick eyebrows coming together as he saw the confusion on the lad's face.
"We haven't used years in ages, sir," the man replied.
"Haven't used years. What does that mean?"
The man's eyebrows shot up, as though he had suddenly realized something that explained everything. The Doctor rather wished he could come to a similar realization. "Are you from Goldborough, sir?"
"Yes, of course I am," the Doctor responded, having not the faintest idea what Goldborough was. "Haven't you ever seen a - a Goldboroughean before?"
"Not since I was a young lad, sir," the man replied earnestly. "I've heard the fashions have quite changed there." He eyed the Doctor's clothes.
"Indeed they have," agreed the Doctor conversationally. "Now about what year it is..."
"I didn't realize they were still using years in Goldborough," the man told him. "Since Professor Sepherly's invention of the Great Gear Clock, we only measure in gears now."
"In...in gears! Yes - of course!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I've heard about this Professor...ah, Professor Stephanie and her Gear Clock."
"Rumors seem to have gone haygeared there, sir," the man laughed. "Professor Sepherly's what you mean, and he's an old reclusive inventor."
"Right, well, of course," the Doctor said. Uncertain what to do next. He had never heard of Goldborough or a Professor Sepherly. He had never seen such clockwork technology. Wherever he was, it was brand new.
A spark of excitement went through him, but was immediately crushed by another thought - the TARDIS. Where's it gone? The Doctor spun in a quick circle, scanning the streets for his blue police box.
The chap he had been talking to watched him uneasily.
"Have you seen a big blue box?" the Doctor asked him, worried.
"Blue?" the man said with distaste. "You know, blue's been out of fashion for at least three gears now - "
"Yes, never mind that; but have you seen one?" the Doctor pressed.
"How big do you mean by 'big'?"
"It's a telephone booth," he told the man. "Do you have those here? It's about the size of, maybe, a closet."
The man shook his head. "Sorry, sir. Haven't seen any."
"It's made of wood," the Doctor continued hopefully.
"Nope."
"Says pull to open on the front?"
"Nope.
"Police Public Call Box in glowing letters at the top?"
"No, sir, and I think I better look for my sister if you don't mind," the chap said, clearly determining that the Doctor was not a person to be associated with. The man hurried off down the street, glancing fearfully behind him until he was out of view.
"Right." The Doctor stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat. "No TARDIS, no idea where or when I am." His eyes lit on a sign that read The Teatop Shop. "But there's tea!"
