Chapter Two
Very quickly, I discovered that not only was the Doctor a hard man to keep up with in terms of verbal swordplay (my head was still spinning from our exchange down on the corner by the police box), he was exactly the same when it came to physical activity. His tall, lanky frame covered lengths of pavement in bounding steps, while my shorter legs struggled to keep up.
We made it to London Bridge unscathed. I looked up at the smouldering ruins, unable to comprehend the magnitude of such destruction. Despite the fact that I, along with the rest of London's population, had experienced enough strange occurrences involving death and destruction to last a lifetime, I couldn't quite wrap my head around this one. I felt my heart leap into my throat, choking my breath and words as I gaped up in mesmerized horror.
A spaceship gouging Big Ben apart, human brains wired into metal murderers, R2-D2's relatives on mechanical steroids, the Thames being drained after a strange Christmas star appeared in the sky – these by now were the standard by which all out-of-the-ordinary happenings were measured.
Somebody blowing up London Bridge, though…now that was unusual. That wasn't alien. That stuff was strictly human.
"But what did we do to aggravate them this time?" I wondered out loud when my heart went back down into my chest, leaving my throat free.
"I'm wondering that too…" agreed the Doctor, looking up at the smoke with his head tilted to one side. He rather looked like a parrot.
"I mean, we're finally getting somewhere in peace talks and all that political bull," I continued, starting to pace. I looked up at him. "Wait a second…are you MI-5?"
"Me? MI-5?" repeated the Doctor. Oh, goodness – he was sounding like a parrot, too.
"Yeah, you."
"Goodness gracious, no. But I am flattered that you think that."
"What, why?"
"Well, it's not everyday somebody tells you you're good enough to be James Bond."
I laughed. "Doctor, nobody is good enough to be James Bond."
He raised his eyebrow. "Oh, you'd be surprised, Connie. I think there are a lot of people out there who could give Mr Bond a run for his money."
I shook my head. He really was a nutter. "Anyway," I said, "if you're not MI5, then who sent you?"
"Nobody did. I came of my own accord." He had stooped now to examine a chunk of London Bridge that lay smoking a few feet away.
He peered very close at it, examining its surface with the same critical eye he'd used back on the corner on me. Every once in a while he would sniff it, and after a few moments of examination he finally seemed to muster up the courage to poke it.
A horrible cracking noise filled the air the moment his inquisitive finger brushed the surface, and I yelped in surprise. The Doctor was lying on the ground, face up, with little bits of cement all around him.
"Doctor?" I said shrilly, rushing over to him. "Doctor, are you alright?"
To my utter horror and surprise, he was grinning from ear to ear. "I know who did this," he said with all the glee of a schoolboy who got away with putting a pin on the teacher's chair.
"What? You can tell who did it just by…sniffing and poking?" I demanded.
He looked up at me. "Yes, I can. It's all a matter of observation, really – it's something you people aren't really good at." He turned his eyes back to the sky and let out a sigh. "Well, come on. Help me up, there's a good girl."
I hauled him to his feet. "So?"
"What do you mean?"
I rolled my eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Who did it, Doctor? Which terrorist faction blew up London Bridge?"
The Doctor stared at me as if I'd gone insane. "Terrorists?" he parroted. "Who said anything about terrorists?"
I stared back at him, gaping again.
"Oh, dear me, don't do that," the Doctor said, cupping my chin in his hand and closing my open mouth. "So unbecoming of anyone so pretty."
"Huh?"
"Nuh-uh, there you go again!" The Doctor shook his head and turned back to look at what remained of London Bridge. "Aliens, my dear comrade. These days, it's always aliens."