Part 9 – More Talk About Buildings and Food
(By Morag MacPherson)
"Whaddya mean it's gone?" asked Dawn as she sat sprawled among the rocky scrub where Clark had dropped her. The Doctor removed a small cylinder which glowed blue on one end when he pressed a button. "And whasht that?"
"It's a sonic screwdriver, and I'm using it to find out exactly where the TARDIS has gone." He paused in his scanning for a moment to retrieve a banana from his pocket. "Here, eat this, it should help with your drinking problem.
He handed her the fruit, which she dutifully began to unpeel. Clark arched his brow ridge. "I didn't realithe that bananash were a hangover cure."
"Mostly it will keep her mouth occupied," said the Doctor, pointing the screwdriver in various directions.
Dawn glared at him. "I resseem- I reesen- I ressen- I resent that remark," she said around a mouthful of banana.
"I'm sure you do." The Doctor replaced the screwdriver. "Clark, do you have any idea who lives in that direction?" He pointed towards a long stand of mountains located in the opposite direction of the town.
"Oh, we don't want to go in that direction. That'sh where Mad Miriam livesh." Clark shook his head.
The Doctor scratched his head. "I don't suppose she's called Mad Miriam because she's so mad about giving gifts and hugs to people who wander onto her property."
"Nope."
"They never are," added Dawn, who was feeding bits of the banana to a nearby vole.
"Mad Miriam ownsh mosht of the planet. She'sh a notoriouth gambler and gun-runner. Over there ith her factory."
"Does she have an army of robot guards?" asked Dawn.
"Nah, Mbatanoss is a notoriously Luddite world. She's probably got a posse of loyal young toughs and a small army of slave labor," said the Doctor. Clark didn't reply, just tapped a scaly finger on the end of his snout. "So, the TARDIS is in the hands of a vile warlord, we've been banned from the only saloon in a twenty mile radius, and Dawn, the dimensional tuning fork, is working on a hangover."
Clark nodded. "That'sh about right."
"It's not Tuesday again is it? I don't want to be kidnapped," wailed Dawn. The Doctor and Clark exchanged a glance.
"Well, this is hardly the worst case scenario," said the Doctor. He pulled a flask of water from his jacket, tossed it to Dawn, then started striding towards Mad Miriam's lair. "You'd damn well better be sober by the time we arrive."
Clark looked down at Dawn, then offered her a hand. "Thorry. He can be like thish whenever there'sh adventure to be had."
Dawn accepted the hand and was pulled up. "I know the type." She dumped half the water down her throat, and the rest of it on her head. Then she started after the Doctor, Clark just a few steps behind.
After about a half an hour, she tugged on the Doctor's coat. "What now?"
Dawn grimaced. "Is there any chance that there's a bathroom nearby?"
