Solipsism

Jack: Surprising Things

The TARDIS engines slow and then stop. Thank goodness for the relative quiet: I can think again; I can breathe again. And thank GOD that I managed to avoid getting thrown to the floor. I smile inwardly and congratulate myself, daring to believe that I've finally gotten my sea legs. You see, I've spent more than my fair share of time splayed flat out on my back on the TARDIS control room's grating. And not for any good reason, mind you.

The Doctor is staring at his console monitor and grumbling something under his breath. I wonder if he knows how much he talks to himself? Probably not, I decide. I find the habit extremely endearing, but there are times, like now, I wish I knew what he was saying. And thinking. One of the surprising things I've learned recently is that the TARDIS translation circuit doesn't translate Gallifreyan – neither spoken nor written.

I squint at the display and all I see are those madly intriguing Gallifreyan symbols: screens and screens and screens of them. Rose Tyler told me once that she was able to understand these most curious of pictograms. It wasn't that she actually literally and formally learned the language, she said, but rather according to her it happened through something like osmosis. I figure it's the TARDIS herself, worming her way into our minds. For sure the process is gradual and nearly imperceptible, and I am quite convinced it has already started inside me. If it was any other alien entity I'd be outraged and pissed as hell. But the TARDIS? She can do whatever she wants with me. Mmm, just like her Time Lord…

"I need to look outside," I say suddenly to The Doctor. And believe me when I tell you I don't know why I said that. I'd been thinking something else just then. Something totally different. In fact, something more than a little bit naughty…

He takes off his glasses and looks closely at me. "What?" He's got a strange expression on his face.

I glance over my shoulder at the doors and then look back at him. "I need to see outside – really see, like with-my-own-two-eyes see. I need…" I check the force field to make sure it is still active. "We need to open the doors, Doctor."

He's still standing there staring at me. I feel like I have an itch that I can't scratch.

"Doctor, I'm serious!"

He puts his hand on my shoulder. "Jack, I know. I know you are," he says softly. "I'm just trying to understand what's going on. Where's this coming from?"

"I don't know! I don't know what's going on or where it is coming from! I just know what I'm feeling and I feel that I need to look outside. There's no harm in it, is there?" I motion toward the force field control. "I mean nothing can possibly hurt us, can it?"

The Doctor shakes his head, but then he shrugs, "Well, yeah, sure, a lot of things could possibly hurt us. There's a whole universe of things that could bash, smash or soundly thump us. Still, if you need to look outside, we'll look outside."

He types something on the keyboard and inspects the display monitor again. He types something else then steps away from the console and winks at me. "Come on," he says, "what are you waiting for?"

I follow him down the ramp. At the entrance he steps back and executes a gallant bow in my direction. "Apprez-vous mon Capitan," he says in impeccable Français.

"Merci beaucoup," I respond with my clumsy American accent as I unlock and, with no small amount of trepidation I must admit, throw open the doors.

Our eyes are met with the unmistakable blackness of outer space. Really, there's nothing else in the universe like it: perfect darkness interspersed with the pinpricks of stars and galaxies far, far off in the distance.

But there's something else, too. As my eyes adjust I see an improbable shadow floating against the starscape. I stare at it, blink a couple of times, stare again and realize it is a ship-shaped shadow, floating almost indiscernibly, barely visible against the cold darkness of space. Unbelievable and yet it is definitely there. Definitely real… Definitely… Definitely…

I reach for The Doctor's hand. I find it and squeeze it hard. It squeezes back.

"Oh my God," I whisper. "It's the Newhope."