Chapter Twelve

Jumping Minds

The Doctor had gotten all the way down to thirteen green bottles when he began to feel the matter-less world around him grow substance. He made a mental note of thirteen being his favourite number (the whole unlucky thirteen thing was just a load of tosh), and then closed his eyes. He concentrated as hard as he could on his next destination.

Hopefully he could decide on the next illusion.

Hopefully.

Donna glanced behind her, which turned out to be quite a hard thing to do taking that she only had about five centimetres of space on either side of her. It seemed a lot narrower than it had done earlier, so that either meant that mouthful of weird sloppy stuff she had out of the tin had made her gain about twenty pounds or she simply hadn't noticed the first time. Despite the small amount of space she could see the young girl's face in the dimness. She just looked blank. Oscar had just picked her up and pushed her through the vent, where Donna had taken her. Bea never said a word through the whole thing. She should have been asking where they were going, if they were finally getting away… but instead she just stared.

'I think you should've been in front, Oscar,' Donna said. 'Haven't got a clue where I'm going. Never had a sense of direction me. Even getting a Sat-Nav didn't help. Could get lost in a paper bag, I tell you.'

'Just keep on going the way we came,' Oscar told her, ignoring her last attempt at lightening the mood. 'Your friend probably won't be far away from where you were. Wouldn't make sense to split you up too far. It's not like you tried to bust out or anything.'

Donna opened her mouth to tell him about the encounter with the bolt cutters, but decided against it. It would only worry him and make her look like a bit of an idiot. Anyway, it was a good as place as any to start. It's not like any of them knew the creatures favourite hangouts or anything. She kept going, keeping quiet. Eventually they got to the part of the vent that sloped downwards, and that was when she knew they were close.

'We should be really quiet,' she whispered to the other two. 'If it hears us it might wait. It did that, with me and the Doctor. It just waited outside the door and…' She trailed off, catching Oscars nervous face. She forced a laugh. 'But I doubt it would do that now, cos… well…' She trailed off. 'Just keep quiet. No more whispering.'

'You're the only one whispering.' Bea said in a breathy, quiet voice.

Donna blinked. She hadn't even known the young girl was capable of listening, let alone responding. Oscar didn't seem surprised by her speaking, so Donna just nodded. 'Right.' She whispered. 'Okay. I'll stop whispering. Come on then. It slopes, so be careful.'

The vent also widened here, which was a relief. She had never been claustrophobic or anything, but no one would find this kind of thing pleasant. She get her legs out in front of her (bumping her head a couple of times in the process) and then began to slowly slide down.

It occurred to her that they must have been running blind the first time they had come through the vent as she couldn't remember it being so far. Her knees were sore from rubbing along the metal floor and her neck was beginning to ache. Now her bum was getting sore from shuffling along in this new position. Despite that though, she wasn't looking forward to getting out.

'Here.' Oscar whispered suddenly after they had reached the bottom and travelled a little further. 'It's along here where I saw you. I remember.'

Sure enough, there was a black grate ahead. Donna peered down into the dark room and saw the table that she had been strapped to a few hours earlier. There was no way she was going back down there. She looked ahead and saw the vent splitting off in two directions. She shuffled around so she was facing Oscar and Bea. Bea was still staring blankly, while Oscar was a little breathless and nervous.

'We'll try the left vent first.' Donna told him. 'Then if he's not along there we'll come back and try the other. There's no point going down there where we can get spotted.'

'Why don't we split up?' Oscar asked. 'I can take Bea and go one way, and you can go the other.'

Donna frowned. 'I don't bloomin' think so matey. You two are my responsibility now and you're not leaving my sight.' She paused. 'God I sound like Judith Fletcher. She was the last person I'd expected to have kids. She had big thighs.'

Oscar only looked at her.

'There was a lady in our street that had big thighs.' Bea said quietly, expression unchanging.

Donna glanced to her. 'That's nice.' She nodded. 'Right then. We're going this way first.'

'I thought you said no more whispering.' Oscar half smirked.

Donna sighed. 'Well I had to tell you… Oh never mind.' She turned and began to crawl again. 'Never having kids, me.' She muttered. 'Cheeky swines.'

The Doctor opened his eyes quickly. He had never understood people who opened their eyes slowly – you might as well get the shock over and done with instead of shying away from it as if the horrible thing would miraculously morph into a box of puppies while you were opening them. He looked around, and then a grin quickly stretched across his face.

It had worked! The first reason he knew it had worked was because he could remember everything and the second reason was because he was standing on a beach on the Xelar Leisure planet just off the orbit of Clom. A funny place for a leisure planet, but there you go. He grinned, pushing his hands in his pockets.

'Alright then!' he called. 'I think we can both admit that I've messed up your little feeding frenzy! How about you buzz on down here and we can have a little chat. Man to… man bug. What do you say?' He paused, but could hear nothing apart from the ocean lapping the shore. 'Oh come on. Surely you like the beach! There's always flies on the beach! Landing on your ice cream, getting stuck in sun cream. Or is that midges… same thing really. Midges are just smaller and make less noise. Still irritating. Not that you're irritating. You're more… unbearable. Like Oprah.'

There was a faint buzz, but it quickly disappeared.

'Well you might as well,' the Doctor flapped his arms in boredom. 'Because unless you can feed of smugness, which I don't think you can, you can't be getting much of a meal. Come on down! Enjoy the sun!'

There was a long silence, and the Doctor listened hard. The buzzing returned, low at first, and then grew louder. In the time it took him to blink, the creature arrived. It stood in the sand about twenty yards from him, hunched over and staring at him with its huge, segmented eyes. Its lips pulled back and relaxed rhythmically in time with its angry buzzing. The Doctor grinned and waved.

'Hi there,' he beamed. 'Nice of you to join me. I thought of maybe taking us to a sewage pipe or a landfill site or something, but it would be a bit smelly for me. You would have loved it though. Have you been to the planet-fill? Not far from here, actually. Xelar, I mean, not… well… wherever we really are.'

The creature's buzzing only seemed angrier. It glared at him for a while, its wings twitching. Finally, it moved its head to the other side. 'Howzz do you doozzz zzzat?' it enquired, slick black substance wetting its chin.

The Doctor shrugged. 'Just a dab of concentration. Helps if you stick your tongue out sometimes. More room for you brain, that way.'

The creature continued to stare. 'You'rezzz the Doczztorzz.'

The Doctor smiled again. 'That's me. And you are? Sorry, for now I've just named you the Fly. Or Buzz-Man. Or Buzz Lightyear.' He chuckled. 'Yes, I think I'll just call you Buzz Lightyear.'

The creature grinned. 'Or the Zzzandman.'

The Doctor wrinkled his nose. 'Well… if you would prefer. But I think I might get sued if I throw that name around too much. Not sure if anyone holds the rights to Sandman. It's like the song Happy Birthday. Sing that in the wrong quadrant and bang you're slammed with a lawsuit before you can get to 'you smell like a zoo'. Or flytip would be more relevant in your case. But then again it's not the fly that smells, is it? Although I've never gotten close enough to a fly to find out. Apart from now of course but-'

'I azzzked how do you do zzzzat?' the creature hissed.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. 'And I told you. Just concentrate. Oh, and a bit of telepathy. Comes in handy, that does.'

'You want me to releazzzze youzzz.' The creature sneered.

'Well, that would be nice.' The Doctor nodded. 'But I know you won't. Bet I give off some good emotions, eh? I was told I was emotionally potent by someone once. Not sure if I should have been offended, but I took it as a compliment.'

'Yezzz,' the creature nodded, feet gently padding on the sand. 'Lotzzz of anger. Fearzzzz.'

The Doctor shrugged, although this time less animatedly. 'I used to have a lot of patience. Tends to wear thin over the years. Especially with things who try to kill me.'

The creature made a loud buzzing sound that the Doctor assumed was laughter. 'You'll never ezzzcape me.'

'No?' The Doctor cocked an eyebrow. 'You're standing on my beach.'

The creature grinned. 'No.' it replied. 'My beachzzz.'

The Doctor frowned slightly, and then looked around. Dozens of people had appeared from nowhere, sitting on deckchairs, splashing in the ocean. Children were building sandcastles, pestering their parents to bury them in the sand. This wasn't the unsettling thing. The unsettling thing was their large, insectoid heads. They didn't scream and shout and laugh, the buzzed. All of them were buzzing.

The Doctor looked around at the creature, stricken. 'No…' he mumbled, and then frowned. 'No! You can't do this! You can't!'

The creature grinned. 'Another emotionzzzz I likezzz izzzz hope. Zzzo much hope.'

The Doctor stared around frantically. The fly-headed people were advancing on him, their human bodies still clutching buckets and spades and books and suncream. The buzzing was growing louder and louder. The Doctor clamped his hands over his ears and closed his eyes tightly. It only seemed louder, like it was inside his head. It was so loud that the only way he knew that he was screaming was because his throat started hurting.