Quick shout out to s, who left a dazzling review. I just wanna let you know that there will be more sweet moments as this fic goes on-it's finished, and close to 74,000 words. (Also, I want to let my readers know that chapter 14 will contain some sexual violence, but I will post a summary at the beginning of the next chapter in case anyone needs to skip it.)
Chapter 8- Tomorrowland
You'd think that sleeping in the TARDIS was impossible: I mean, the ship jaunts and lurches like nobody's business. But it was like sleeping in a regular old building: there was no sign that I was actually sleeping on a spaceship that apparently didn't like to be told where to fly. But I slept well that night: a better sleep than I'd gotten in a while.
It was a struggle to wake up. The bed seemed to develop its own gravitational pull, dragging me deeper into the softness. Only the thought of Naomi pulled me out. I rolled out of the pile of blankets and trudged into the bathroom, where the lights were mercifully dim. I blindly found a hairbrush and yanked it through my chestnut snarls of hair, taming it until it was semi-presentable. Giving the rest up as a bad job, I stripped and hit the shower—actually, it was more like a spa. I tried to carefully read and select the right buttons from the metal panel controlling the water, but in my sleepy state I ended up smashing three different buttons while aiming for the wrong one. But the TARDIS, whatever she thought of me before, seemed to pity me, and took it upon herself to adjust the settings of the shower so I could properly wake up. The water, just hot enough to be comfortable, washed the sleep from my body, with the help of citrus-smelling body lotion. After twenty minutes, the water stopped, and I was about to step out when a sudden, unexpected blast of hot air hit me from above, shocking me so much that I screamed. Quickly clapping my hand over my mouth (I prayed the Doctor hadn't been able to hear—how humiliating would that be?), I let the air blow at me: it must be some futuristic drying method that masochists had invented.
When the blowing stopped and I was more dry than wet, I lowered my hand from my mouth and stumbled out of the shower stall, taking a towel from the cabinet and wrapping it around me. "A little warning would've been nice!" I spat. The lights flared at their brightest, blinding me. Behind me, water rose up from the floor jets in an angry burst.
My anger fizzled out. How could you be angry with a ship that could think for itself? "Thanks, TARDIS," I said, my voice now sounding kinder. In response, the lights dimmed to a soft glow. I smiled; maybe the machine and I could get along after all.
When I was sufficiently dry, I exchanged the towel for a terrycloth robe and journeyed once again into the huge wardrobe room. Deciding to stick with clothing from my own era, I browsed the selection, looking for clothing that could encompass any and all environment. Soon admitting that the task was impossible, I turned to my new ally. "Okay, TARDIS. By the looks of it, the Doctor never knows where you're taking us and just hopes for the best. You seem to be the one in charge. So, can you give me a hand? I don't want to show up in Antarctica dressed for Death Valley."
On my left, a light flared up brightly, catching my attention. A light further away lit up, and another after that, leading me deeper into the chamber. Hurrying, I followed the lights as they led me past racks upon racks of clothes, past winter coats and bikinis and huge, rainbow umbrellas. Finally, a far-off light blazed and remained bright, and I skidded to a stop in front of clothing meant for the coldest October days. It was all sweaters and scarves and fuzzy jackets: my kind of clothes.
I quickly dressed in a soft purple v-neck, dark blue jeans, and a pair of sturdy hiking boots (I could never resist a boot—that was what I told my father when I said I wanted to go to Italy). I left my hair down: I had to keep it up every day in the bakery, and I could use a little change-up. On a whim, I slid a brown suede jacket from its hanger and slipped it on; yes, it definitely pulled everything together. Finally satisfied, I left the wardrobe (which took quite a long time) and then my room, striding down the hall to the console room. The Doctor was flitting around the controls, turning a knob here and winding a crank there. The green jacket had been thrown onto one of the chairs, seemingly ripped off in a bout of energy.
"Morning, Doctor," I greeted, yawning.
The Doctor looked up, seemingly shocked. "Wow, you're up already? Did you get enough sleep?"
"I think so, Doctor," I said, descending the stairs to the console. "I mean, I'm not about to drop off again. What have you been doing without me?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, massaging out the knots. "I've been trying to fix the Aligrena up, so we can learn more from it."
"You mean we broke it when we put it in Sleep Mode?"
"No. It sort of…broke itself." The Doctor gestured for me to come forward, and he brought me around to see the Aligrena, hooked up to wires like an Intensive Care patient in a hospital. The screen bar where its eyes should have been was dark. "It's protocol for them to go into complete shutdown if attacked and infect themselves with a computer virus, so their captor can't glean anything from them."
"Why were you trying to fix it, though?" I asked. "It already told us where it had been last. We already know where it took Naomi: back to Sarsgaroth. We don't need to know more."
"Well, we do," the Doctor amended. "We should know as much as we can, and we have a fountain of knowledge right here. Problem is," he began shaking the Aligrena, like a little boy at a pinball machine who hoped to get a better score, "the fountain's been clogged."
"So where do we get Drano?"
The Doctor glanced up at me, smiling a bit. He seemed proud of my ability to keep up with his metaphors. He let go of the Aligrena and began his one-man Console Tango, dancing around it as he began getting the TARDIS ready for travel. "There's someone I know on Delta Delta Noda Four. One of the greatest hackers in the universe. Plus, he owes me a favor." He briefly looked up from his mad mashing of buttons. "By the way, can you run to the kitchen? Take two lefts and it'll be the third door on the right. Can you grab a bag of ice? Should be in the refrigerator."
"Should I ask why?"
"I lost a bet."
I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what kind of bet the Doctor made and why in the world they bet a bag of ice. "I shouldn't have asked at all," I said, turning up the stairs. "I'll get the ice. Oh, can you—"
The TARDIS began vwoorping and the entire ship quaked, stealing my balance. I grabbed the banister and steadied a hand on a step above me, just in time to stop my ribs from slamming into the sharp edges of the stairs.
"What was that?" the Doctor yelled over the noise.
"I was going to ask if you could wait until you started!" I retorted, loud enough for him to hear me.
"…Sorry!" he apologized meekly.
By the time I had safely gotten the ice to the Doctor (oh, the kitchen was marvelous—it was like something out of Gordon Ramsay's wildest dreams), we had landed on Delta Delta Noda Four. Naturally, the TARDIS had stopped shaking as soon as I had come back down the stairs.
"Thank you, Erica!" the Doctor said gleefully, taking the bag of ice from me. He glanced at me: my shirt was wet from the bag swinging onto it, my arms were freezing from holding it, and my angry face was rosy from when I had to search in the walk-in freezer for the ice, held waaaay in the back. I stared back at him; by the look in his eyes, I must've looked like I was about to murder him. "I'll get it next time," he promised, turning away from me. He set the ice on the floor and went to his jacket, pulling it on energetically. He picked the ice back up and held it out to me expectantly.
My stare was dead-eyed. "It's your turn."
"It's either this or that," he replied, nodding his head back to the Aligrena. Scowling, I took back the detested back of ice, holding it as the Doctor swiveled around and began unhooking the Aligrena from the console. When it was free, the Doctor began struggling for a way to carry it that wasn't awkward. He ended up carrying it over his behind him, his arms over his head and the Aligrena's tentacles loudly trailing behind him.
"Don't suppose I can carry this without making a scene," the Doctor said, admitting defeat. "Well, there've been weirder things on Delta Delta than two people carrying a big, leggy metal slab and a bag of ice." He glanced between us. "Well, maybe not."
"Come on," I grumbled. First alien planet I visited would remember me forever as an idiot. Not exactly the best first impression.
The Doctor led the way out of the TARDIS, the Aligrena blocking any view beyond the doors. When he finally moved out of the way, I had to stop.
The TARDIS had landed in what looked like a shopping center. It was a huge dome where the walls were made of something close to glass, except slightly cloudier. There were shops all over, and little stands and food stalls in the open space that served as a thoroughfare. And the people! The people weren't people at all, actually. Their bodies were stocky and scaled, and they stood on four fat, jelly-like legs. There were only two arms, but they seemed to have three elbows each. They had no hair, and their eyeballs were light green. Oh yeah, and they were blue.
The shops sold things no human from my time could dream of: collapsible, watertight coffee mugs; contact lenses that could play movies or put you in virtual reality; and even small, floating, glass spheres that could store as much information as you needed that it would display as a hologram at a keyword. Long, streamlined spaceships flew over the ceiling in all directions, though the thick walls blocked out all sound. This other world was remarkable, but also strangely…familiar.
"Erica Stone, welcome to the Business and Travel Coliseum of Delta Delta Noda Four!" the Doctor proclaimed. He waved one arm around briefly before returning it to the Aligrena. "Everyone comes here for the latest gadget or to make the biggest business, or even to fly off to the furthest reaches of the universe! Anything you could possibly need is right within your reach!"
"So, it's an airport," I summarized. "A big, alien airport of the future." This place was extraordinary. I would've wanted to look around if we hadn't been here with a mission in mind. I shook myself out of my awestruck daze and asked, "So where's your computer geek?"
"Right this way!" With that, the Doctor took off, easy to follow because of the noise the Aligrena's metal arms made, dragging on the floor. I hurried after him as he led me down the huge corridor, past countless electronics stores and coffee shops—well, maybe not coffee, but you get my meaning. The patrons were giving us funny looks: but honestly, I would've done that, too, if the situation were reversed.
After what seemed like an eternity of scrutiny from the aliens, the Doctor finally turned in to a shop with a marked difference from the rest. While the other stores were brightly lit and spacious, this one was dimmer and longer than wide. There weren't many shoppers in it, but that was probably a good thing: less questions for us.
The Doctor set the Aligrena on the glass counter, somehow causing a red square to appear near the corner. Words faded into existence beneath the square:
Press For Service
The Doctor pressed two fingers onto the square, and both it and its caption shimmered away as a long, low note sounded in a back room, much like a ship's horn. A back panel slid into the wall and a blue, scaled alien entered, the extra footsteps echoing off the linoleum floor.
"Doctor!" it exclaimed, walking up to us. The body seemed very still as the legs worked double-time; it was a bit disconcerting, to say the least. "Doctor, welcome back! It's been ages!"
The Doctor's face broke into a wide smile. "Algo!" he exclaimed genially. The two met and shook hands, each smiling. They had clearly had some quality male bonding time.
Algo clapped the Doctor on the shoulder, the triple-elbowed arm looking particularly lumpy as it moved. "I trust you've been getting into trouble?"
"As always," the Doctor replied with a laugh. "And I'm paying up." He gestured to the bag of ice in my hands. "This is Erica, by the way. She's a friend."
I nodded hello. "What did you two bet, by the way?" I asked. "And why on…why in the world would you bet a bag of ice?" I handed Algo the ice, trying (and failing) not to stare as his excessive elbows moved as he reached.
"The Doctor and I were betting on the outcome of a marathon last time he was here," Algo explained. "The Coliseum was the finish line."
"And the Nodans like to keep things rather cool, if you'd noticed," the Doctor supplied as Algo stowed the ice behind the counter. "It's a stroke of luck you dressed so warm."
"Not luck, exactly," I began explaining, but Algo had started examining the Aligrena on his counter.
"Oh, Doctor, you never cease to astound me," Algo said, laughing. "You've brought quite the puzzle for me. What happened?"
The Doctor hesitated. "It infected itself with a computer virus," he explained. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "It has some vital information that we can't get to. Well, not without a little help."
Algo smiled. "And I'm the help, aren't I?" He sighed. "Just how much trouble did you get yourself into this time, Doctor?"
"Fair bit," the Doctor conceded. "So can you do it?"
Algo tilted his head back and forth, weighing the pros and cons. "I don't know, Doctor," he said, drawing is words out in uncertainty. "It's going to be tough."
"Remember, Algo," the Doctor said, leaning forward. "You owe me. For that bad bit of trouble with Madore?"
Algo's cheerfulness degraded. "It's going to take time," he said flatly. "Quite a bit. I'll also need the proper tools."
"I can get you whatever you need," the Doctor replied. As Algo began listing of appliances with strange names and stranger functions, I began wandering around the shop. It was filled with gadgets and gizmos that even Einstein couldn't dream of; but by the looks of them, they were at least five years out of date. The dim lighting didn't help matters, either. The entire shop gave off an aura like Blockbuster stores—they had had their heyday, but now they were obsolete.
"We'll be right back," the Doctor said, looping his arm through mine and leading me out of the shop. We plunged back into the stream of Nodans on the thoroughfare, sticking out among the mass of blue.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"We have some errands to run for him," the Doctor replied. "We should be able to find everything he needs in the Coliseum."
"Do we have money?"
He steered me to a large, cloudy-glass-with-a-red-screen machine in the wall that evoked images of ATMs. The Doctor unhooked his arm from mine and glanced over his shoulder, pulling the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and buzzing it at the screen when he was sure no one was looking. Suddenly, golden paper bills began spitting out of a frosted-glass slot in the machine and fluttering to the floor. I hurriedly picked them up, wary of observers.
"That should be enough to tide us over," the Doctor said under his breath, pocketing the screwdriver. I divided the money into two piles, thrusting one into the Doctor's hand. I folded my pile of bills in half and shoved them in my pocket, hoping the wad didn't stand out. "Enough for Algo's utensils and a souvenir or two for us."
"Did we just commit grand larceny, Doctor?" I asked, the cash feeling horribly conspicuous in my pocket.
The Doctor tilted his head, trying to soften the blow. "More like simple theft," he answered unconvincingly. "It's only a reserve for a bank, and it's gonna make its way back into the bank someday."
"The things we do for the latest gadget," I said as we began walking.