Chapter 4

The Titanic was four days into her journey to the United States and the Doctor had done all that he could to find the source of the clicking sound without drawing suspicion to himself and without running into his younger self, having been aboard the ship in a previous life. Even though he'd built a brand new sonic screwdriver - he still hadn't a clue what had happened to his old one, the one with the red disc on the tip - it hadn't helped to narrow down the location of the clicking except to the third-class area of the ship.

Slumping onto a chair on the Well-Deck, he rubbed his face with his hands. "Fantastic. I can't bloody well go knocking on cabin doors demanding if someone has alien technology." Leaning back, he exhaled loudly. "I guess I'll just have to wait. Again."

"Who are you?" a small voice questioned.

Turning toward the sound, the Gallifreyan quickly raised his head, immediately finding the face of a young boy. "No one of consequence," he answered the query, really not in the mood for having to deal with children after two days of searching the ship from stem to stern, all the while trying not to be too meddlesome.

"Daddy used to have a suit like that," the child voiced with a sad sigh.

"That's nice. Now why don't you run along?" the Doctor suggested.

"Mummy said I mustn't run."

"Richard!" a woman's voice called out. "Don't be bothering the gentleman."

The Time Lord looked up at a very handsome woman, raising his eyebrows in surprise. She was about twenty-three or twenty-four years of age by his estimation with long dark hair that was carefully pinned away from her face, showing off the natural glow of her skin. At the same time, she appeared to be a person who knew the harshness of life. Her clothes were practical and clean, or at least as clean as she could keep them within her limited means. A look at the boy showed the Doctor that he couldn't have been more than five years old and very much the spitting image of his mother. Again, his clothes were practical and clean. However, there was no doubt that this family didn't have the financial means to own clothes such as the Doctor was wearing at the moment.

"He's not a bother," the Doctor assured, standing from his seat. "I just haven't had the best of luck on this ship yet. I'm sure it will come soon. Good looking boy you have there."

"Thank you. I think he takes after his father, God rest his soul, but people tell me they see my features." She paused. "Best of luck? Are you a gambling man?"

"Not really. Been looking for something. Can't find it."

"Oh. I assume you must have lost it here. First class passengers usually don't come down to the Well-Deck. Perhaps we can help you find what you seek?"

"Doubt it, especially since I'm not sure what it looks like," the Doctor replied. Seeing the confusion on her face, he told her, "I'm sort of investigating a strange noise, an odd clicking sound. Hear anything like that?"

Richard tilted his head. "Does it sound sort of like..." and the child started to make a sound very similar to what the Doctor had heard.

The Doctor grinned broadly, impressed by the impersonation. "Oh, you are fantastic!" He looked to his mother. "He's absolutely fantastic! That's exactly what it sounds like."

The mother tilted her head. "Are you a detective then?"

"Sort of," came the Gallifreyan's response. He turned to Richard. "When did you hear it?"

"I heard it when we went to the public room after lunch."

"Can you show me exactly where?"

The boy nodded grinning but then stopped and looked up to his mother with a questioning look. "Can I, Mummy?"

"I don't see why not. But I'm going with you both."

"Absolutely," the Gallifreyan agreed. "Can't be too careful this day and age." He turned to the boy. "What was your name again?"

"Richard," the boy said but with a slight mispronunciation of the 'r' so it came out as more 'Wichard' than anything.

"Well, then, Master Richard..." He gestured melodramatically in the direction of the public room. "Lead the way." As they started to walk, he decided the adults should get introductions out of the way. "I'm the Doctor, by the way. And what's your name?"

"Penelope Winters," she answered. "What type of doctor are you?"

"Oh, pretty much of everything. Medicine, science, history... you name it."

"My, my. Sounds like we should call you 'professor' and not just Doctor."

"Oh, I've been called that before too. Didn't care for it much, now that I remember. Of course, with Ace, you pretty much have to take whatever she gives you. Within reason."

"Ace? What a strange name for a woman."

"Well, her real name was Dorothy Gale. But she never did enjoy her real name."

"Dorothy Gale. Where have I heard that name?" She thought for a moment. "Oh yes! That was the character in that delightful set of books by that American author. Richard loves to hear all about Oz."

"Now you see why Ace wasn't too fond of her name."

The little boy looked up. "I'd love for Mummy to see the Emerald City!"

The Doctor grinned at his words. "I imagine it would be quite a sight." He turned to Penelope. "So what sends you to the United States?"

She sighed before answering. "Since Stephen..." She paused slightly to explain, "...that was my husband. Since he died in the lorry accident, money has been tight. I saw an advertisement for a New York family that was looking for a housekeeper. They said they would take Richard as well. I felt that I needed to take the opportunity when it presented itself."

"But how can you even afford the trip? Even third class, it still costs quite a lot. And taking a job as a housekeeper in a different country when you really don't have much experience... bit risky, don't you think?"

She gave him a wary look. "What makes you think I don't have the experience?"

"Your hands. Much too soft and pretty for a housekeeper. A nanny, perhaps... or a ladies maid... but not a housekeeper. Besides, most housekeepers are a bit older than you."

She gave a bit of a smile at that. "A regular Sherlock Holmes, aren't you."

"Well, yes. I suppose that's true. Arthur often said that I gave him a few ideas."

"Oh," she responded, not at all sure if she was speaking with someone who really was friends with the great author or not. However, he had shown that he was likely a detective after all. "I borrowed the money for this trip, Doctor. I'm willing to do whatever I have to for my son. A housekeeper position is honorable work and in America, they are not so... traditional."

"Oh, you are absolutely right. Housekeepers are fantastic. Hard workers. Salt of the earth. In fact..." His bright blue eyes focused on her hazel ones. "I think you are extremely brave for making such a decision. Can't have been an easy thing to do, leaving everything you know to make sure your son has a better life." Briefly, he wondered where he would be in his life if his own mother hadn't shown the same courage, going to live on another planet far from her home world just so her son could live amongst his father's people.

As he finished speaking, they had arrived at the public room which was on the starboard side of the stern on C-Deck. There were a small number of people present, all of whom appeared interested in enjoying their surroundings. None of them seemed to notice the "first-class passenger" in their midst.

"Over here, Doctor. The clicking sound was over here." Richard guided him to the back of the room by the windows.

The Doctor left their side and went directly to the spot indicated. He turned around in a full circle, frowning. "Do you smell that?" he questioned.

Penelope looked quite embarrassed but Richard piped up. "It smells like someone farted!"

His mother's eyes opened wide. "Richard! We do not talk like that!"

Richard, looking greatly chastised, answered, "Yes, Mummy." He turned to the Doctor. "It smells like someone passed gas."

"There's something far more subtle here," the Doctor told them as he sniffed the air. "Like... metal... iron to be exact." He gave the boy a smile. "That and someone farted."

The mother shook her head. "How am I ever going to teach him to be a gentleman?"

The Doctor firmly looked at Penelope. "Gentlemen are made in here," he said pointing to where a human heart would be in him. "And with good parenting. I'm sure with you as his mother, he will learn the ins and outs just fine. Just give him time."

She grinned at him. "That sounds like what Stephen would have said. Thank you." She paused. "Is that... ummm... odor important?"

"Absolutely. It means that Master Richard here has led me to a vital clue. But what does this odd combination of scents mean?" He thought hard. "Iron... and passed gas," he said genteel-like. He sniffed the air again. "Well, more like ozone and smog, if I'm not mistaken." He looked at Richard. "Was there anything else you saw or heard... or smelled?"

Richard looked at him shyly. "You won't believe me."

"Of course, I'll believe you. I'll believe anything. Well, almost anything."

"Mummy says I was imagining it."

"And what was it that you supposedly imagined?" the Doctor pressed gently. "I promise I won't laugh."

"A sea monster," Richard said finally, his eyes wide.

"He has such a creative imagination," Penelope said quickly.

"A sea monster?" the Time Lord questioned, his eyebrows rising. "You mean like Nessie. The Loch Ness Monster."

The boy nodded. "Yes. Just like that. Mummy says that people who see Nessie just have sour stomachs."

"Or have Zygons nearby," the Doctor added to the assertion.

"What on earth is a Zygon?" Penelope asked.

The Gallifreyan's eyes grew somber. "An alien. A shape-borrowing alien from the planet Zygor. The sea monster Richard saw was very likely a Skarasen. It's a cyborg creature from their home planet with which they have a symbiotic relationship. Zygons need the lactic fluid of a Skarasen to survive."

"From the planet Zygor? You're saying the thing that caused the clicking sound that Richard heard was extraterrestrial?" She shook her head. "That's impossible."

"You don't believe there are planets other than the Earth?" the Doctor questioned.

"Of course I know there are other planets. I just mean it's impossible for there to be extraterrestrial life."

"Says who?" the Time Lord questioned. "What if I told you that I was an extraterrestrial?"

"Then I'd think that was a poor joke indeed."

Richard smiled. "Are you?"

"You could come over and find out for yourself," the Time Lord told the boy. "See... I have two hearts."

The child ran over before his mother could stop him. He put his head against the Doctor's chest. "Mummy. He does. He has two hearts!"

The Doctor looked at Penelope with serious eyes, noting her shaking her head. "So you really believe that the Earth is the only planet that has life in the universe, even though there are literally billions and billions of planets out there."

She blinked. "The Bible doesn't talk about extraterrestrials," she answered but in her voice there was doubt.

"Neither does it say that Earth is the only planet in the universe that has life on it," the Doctor pointed out.

"Well, I guess that's true. I never thought of it like that."

"Mummy," Richard chimed in. "I told you, he's telling the truth. Come listen."

Shaking her head, she declined. "It wouldn't be proper."

The Doctor gave her a grin. "I won't tell a soul," he promised.

She cautiously moved to him and laid her head on his chest. A moment later she pulled away, her eyes wide. "You are not from this planet!"

"Nope."

"Are you going to hurt us?" she asked, blinking rapidly.

"Have I done anything to make you think that I would in any way harm either you or your son?"

"Well, no," she conceded. "But that was before we knew you were a...were an..."

"An alien? So suddenly I'm untrustworthy because I happen to come from the Kasterborous constellation?"

Looking somewhat sheepish, she bit at her lip. "Oh... I guess not. But then there are those stories by Vernes and Wells. However, you seem nothing like what they write about... and I've just never met someone before that was so... ummm... foreign."

He responded with a chuckle. "That's one way of putting it. Besides, Herbert was a bit off in his descriptions." Refocusing his attention on the area in which he was standing, he briefly made sure that the other passengers were still uninterested in the activities of the three of them. "Now, if I could only find the source of that ever so lovely odor..."

"Why is the odor so important?"

"Well, it's alien, right? Specifically, it's the scent of a Zygon. I'm guessing the ozone scent could be whatever technology he or she is using. So, we find the source of that smell, we find the alien... well, the other alien... who's aboard this ship," he told Penelope as he walked towards the third-class bunks, following his nose. "And by finding the alien, we can find out what it is that he, she, or it is doing to cause the time shifts a young lady and I encountered in 1963. Well, she encountered it here in 1912 and wound up in 1963." He frowned slightly. "Though I'm not sure that my going around and smelling all the passengers will be considered good etiquette."

"Certainly not!" she said, aghast at the prospect of this man going around and sniffing at ladies and gentlemen. She then realized what he'd said. "You travel in time as well? Like Wells described in The Time Machine? Do all you aliens do things like that?

"Not all. It's sort of a limited thing," he replied. "Humans will travel in time eventually, but not for another thirty centuries or so." He looked around at his surroundings, noting that he'd found himself at one end of a long corridor lined with doors. "Well, I think this is where we part company."