The sun shone effervescently down onto the lush fields which a young, scruffy looking man was drearily hiking along. His backpack, labelled 'Thomas Green', was hoisted uncomfortably on his shoulders and boredom was smeared across his face. He dropped his belongings to the ground and began to run. Sharp strides stretched out over the meadows and with each bound he felt his spirits soar.
His elation was short lived. It suddenly turned to curiosity when the shadow of a towering structure came into view in the distance. Thomas halted in his tracks. Bewilderment overcame him, but with a quick glance back towards his possessions, Thomas hastily decided to investigate. He raced through the fields for what seemed like hours until finally he reached the base of the mysterious building. There were no parking lots; no footpaths; no shrubbery. No decoration of any kind. The only real feature was eleven large, Hollywood style letters sticking out above the great barred doors, forming the words 'The Vaconian'.
The hotel, which looked both old and new, simply stood alone, in a barely noticeable dimple in the field, as if the ground could only just take the weight. Thomas pressed his face against the stocky glass doors, but the tinted entrance showed nothing but a dark reflection of the sunlit day. He pulled on the handles but to no avail; the door was sealed tightly shut.
Taking a fleeting look back at the breezy countryside, Thomas followed the edge of the building around to the side, running his hand loosely along the wall. He almost walked straight past the thickset wooden door that blended heavily into the building. Upon noticing it, he grabbed the handle and pushed and pulled but it did not yield. The door appeared to be locked. Not one for giving up so easily after having come so far, he leaned up close to it and with as much strength as he could muster, rammed his shoulder once, twice, three times before it gave way.
Cautiously, Thomas stepped inside. As if it always had been, a furious storm began to twist and turn through the air outside, sending a gust of wind through the doorway and blowing it vehemently shut. Thomas jumped out of his skin, but collected himself and cautiously carried on.
...
Inside the hotel lobby, life was swimming through the air, with everyone breathing it in. Elegance covered the room from floor to wall to ceiling to floor. Antique furniture that somehow managed to come across as modern decorated the floors, while contemporary golden chandeliers with a touch of classicality lit up the lobby from above. Chatter from the guests - some relaxing with drinks, others jostling about - fed a buzz to the air that drowned out the downpour outside.
''I'm only staying for the weekend,'' murmured a stout old lady, ''just long enough-''
''Quite a view from up top, though I could never sleep so high from the ground,'' a middle-aged man said, cutting the lady off as he walked by with a friend.
''Waiter! Excuse me, waiter!'' a portly gentlemen yelled over the crowd. From the side of the room a noticeable staff door creaked open and out stepped Thomas, overwhelmed by what he saw. He had never heard of a hotel of this size, let alone one in the middle of nowhere, filled with all kinds of people. Attentively, he made his way towards the service desk, seemingly bumping into several people as he did so, though they carried on without noticing.
On the back wall, opposite the main entrance, four shiny silver elevators stood next to each other, gleaming with modernity while blending perfectly with the style of the rest of the room. The mix of old and new messed with Thomas' head. He felt like he was watching a three-dimensional film without wearing those special glasses; as if there were two layers of the hotel and they were overlapping. He reached the desk just as a lean, blonde woman, still with her youth, placed a phone back on its holder and looked up cheerfully to greet him.
''Good morning sir, how can I be of assistance?'' she asked.
''Hi, um,'' said Thomas, noticing her nametag, ''Alison. Could you tell me, uh… where am I?''
''Are you feeling okay, sir? This is 'The Vaconian', the number one sky high hotel of the age and country. You must be staying here.''
''No, I was just walking by, I…''
His expression suddenly changed as he noticed Alison becoming scared, and he swiftly recovered his manner.
''Sorry,'' he said, ''long week; haven't had much sleep.
''Would you like to be escorted to the 'Recreation and Relaxation' rooms up on the fiftieth floor?'' said Alison, still a bit mystified.
''Please,'' replied Thomas as a tall, emaciated young bellboy appeared out of nowhere next to him. He was dressed all in black, aside from a white nametag and decorative gold rimming the ends of his sleeves. Even his hair was black, and his eyes appeared to be.
''This is Cole. He'll be happy to take you there,'' said Alison. Cole simply nodded. Thomas raised his hand awkwardly. He turned to walk away with Cole but Alison called him back.
''One second, I need to scan you in,'' she said while retrieving a device from under the counter. She held it in front of Thomas's face and a layer of thin red light emanated from the gadget like a barcode scanner, which made its way across his complexion from the chin up. When it came into contact with his mesmerized eyes, Alison's own narrowed minutely as the scanner flickered and the red light withdrew back into it. Alison glanced at the screen on the back of the device in utter perplexity, but then promptly returned to normal and looked up at Thomas.
''All done,'' she smiled at him. Thomas returned the gesture and followed Cole towards the elevators.
...
The trendy but aged elevator rose at a lightning pace up through the many hundreds of luxurious and varied floors. A digital panel centred above the doors displayed the level number. Almost a blur, the numbers slowed at forty-three, forty-six, forty-eight. At level fifty the lift jolted to a complete stop and the wide doors drew back into the walls. Cole made his way out but before Thomas could exit the elevator the doors slammed shut, trapping him inside.
The hydraulics of the lift whirred and screeched as it powered up again. Thomas frantically pressed the emergency stop button but it was futile; the elevator seemed to be working of its own accord. It halted with a loud clunk. Thomas let out a sigh of relief and began pushing the 'open door' button. Another clunk and the entire lift dropped a couple of metres. Lunging for the railings that encircled his newfound claustrophobia, Thomas held on for dear life.
Down it dropped once more, plunging several feet before slowing as if it had landed on a spring, and then launched upwards at an incredible speed. The force of the thrust sent Thomas crashing to his knees. He struggled to breathe from the weight pressing on his lungs, and felt as if his curious nature had finally gotten the better of him. The panel over the door read fifty-five; sixty-five; eighty; ninety-nine. The digitised numbers had become a haze.
Thomas lost his grip on the railings and began to float. Gravity was becoming obsolete. The elevator hit floor two hundred and twenty-two and a flash of electric blue light burst its way inside and filled all corners of the box. Just beyond the wall, a couple waiting patiently for the elevator walked in after the doors slid apart. They casually sauntered in to the now empty lift.
...
On a faintly cloudy day, with the sun peering through, a big blue box steadily materialised out of thin air. The second the grinding roar of the TARDIS stopped, a man dressed in a tweed jacket on top of a grey plaid shirt, a red bowtie, rolled up trousers and black boots stepped out, along with a female companion sporting a blue jacket over a florid red shirt that matched her fiery red hair, a short skirt over black stockings and black boots that matched those of her lead. The Doctor closed the TARDIS doors and inhaled his surroundings. His eyes thinned, and he sniffed the air.
''Earth,'' he diagnosed. ''England. The year twenty-two fifty-four.''
''Hasn't changed much,'' said Amy, taken aback.
''Brand new Earth, same old Amy.''
''Well the sun's out. That's new.''
''You're missing the point,'' said the Doctor, disappointed. Amy looked at him enquiringly. ''Nobody's ever been unimpressed by my sniff analysis,'' he continued, almost offended.
''Oh, don't try to pull that one on me,'' Amy responded, ''I saw the TARDIS monitor. Cheater.''
She smiled at the Doctor, who shook his head and proceeded to lock his time machine. Amy noticed an overwhelming shadowy figure in the remote distance.
''What's that over there?'' she asked. The Doctor spun around to gaze on what she had seen. Puzzled, he walked up beside her and stared avidly at the shadow.
''That,'' he declared, ''is a very good question. He swayed to face Amy. She looked up at him and their faces both said the same thing. The Doctor spoke up.
''Fancy a countryside hike?''