Chapter 13

The sun had barely kissed the sky when Sam opened his eyes again. The night had been mostly restful but he was still a bit concerned about what had transpired in the wee hours before. He got up and headed to the bathroom for a hot shower. Once finished with his morning routine, he pulled out some clean clothing and got dressed, going downstairs to the common living area to await the morning's activities.

The Doctor practically skipped down the stairs, dressed as always in his pinstriped suit, dress shirt, tie, and red Converse trainers. "Ah! Marvelous morning! And no doubt we have a plethora of information from the recordings last night that needs to be meticulously sorted through." He bounced into the available couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. "I love that word. Plethora. So much more colorful than a really, really big pile of stuff."

Looking up from the book he'd been reading, the human commented, "Plethora has a nice ring to it."

"Oh, yes! A possible plethora of potentially paranormal... stuff."

"Culminating in a cadre of conclusions and calculations."

"Good one!" the Doctor complimented with a wide grin.

"Thank you," an equally large grin returned as Sally walked into the room and, as if scolding a young child, gave the Doctor a hard look. "No feet on the coffee table, if you don't mind."

He put on a humbled expression as he dropped his legs. "Sorry." He noticed the tray in her hands. "Continental breakfast! Aw, that's brilliant! Isn't that brilliant? Sally thinks of everything. Knows we don't have time for a sit down." He immediately picked up a piece of toast and lathered it with a large amount of orange marmalade. Biting into it, he prepared a cup of tea for himself and Sam. "Sally, you wouldn't happen to know anything unusual about this house, my room in particular?" he asked, munching contentedly on his toast.

"Hmmm. I don't recall there being anything," she replied. Then she smiled coyly, "Other than the fact that the room occasionally is home to a very nice and interesting alien."

The Doctor blinked. "Really? Who?"

Looking over the top of the book, the leaper quipped with slight exasperation. "Oh, geez. Even I get that one."

Sally grinned. "You, silly!"

"Oh," the Time Lord commented before returning the smile. The smile faded as he thought of the rest of her reply. "That's odd, then. Usually there is some kind of repetitious nature to things like we're experiencing."

"You mean like an alien staying the same room? That type of repetitious nature?" Sam asked, his voice gently chiding.

The Doctor tilted his head to concede the matter. "Well, other than that." He looked at Sally. "You're sure there's nothing else?"

"As I said, I don't know." She looked at his crestfallen face and quickly added, "Doesn't mean there's nothing there, Doctor. Just that I don't know about them."

He gave a slight shrug. "It's just... odd." He seemed to think on the subject for a moment before standing abruptly. "I want to take a look at that data we collected over night." He started towards the cellar door before stopping in the doorway and turning to Sam. "Don't forget that research field trip."

"I won't," Sam called back to him. He put the book down and looked up at Sally. "Do you know when the University library opens?"

"It's been a while since I've been there." She smiled gently. "Harry and I met there actually. He would know the current hours since he still uses the library on occasion," she answered, making herself some tea and sitting beside Sam.

"The Doctor wants me to do some research. He gave me this." He showed Sally the blank paper.

Sally looked at the paper with slight amusement. "A blank piece of paper in a leather wallet?"

"Well, he said if I just think about credentials, people will see them."

"Well, are you thinking about credentials? Or are you thinking of a blank piece of paper in a wallet?" Sally questioned, just accepting Sam's word - more really the Doctor's word - of what the paper could do.

Sam took a breath. He thought for a moment about his own life, or at least what he remembered of it.

Sally frowned, seeing writing on the paper suddenly. "Now it says that your name is Dr. Samuel Beckett, you're a quantum physicist from New Mexico, you have a friend named Al... and you like light beer and popcorn."

Sam looked at the paper. It was just as blank as before, but he couldn't deny the fact that she obviously was seeing what he was thinking.

"Oh, and it also said that you don't like caterpillars in a baby bottle," Sally put in with a slight look of confusion. "What's that all about?"

That clinched it. "Oh, nothing. I was just making up a... a... bizarre story."

"Caterpillars in a baby bottle?" Harry questioned as he walked into the room, wearing his dressing gown and scratching the back of his head. "Sounds like something they did back in the early days of the American space program when they were still working with chimpanzees." He leaned down and kissed Sally gently before helping himself to breakfast. "So, I understand the Doctor's sending you to the University to do some research."

"You must have seen him on the way to the cellar."

"He practically bowled me over in the hallway. Said something about you needing information from me to get into the University's archives."

"Yeah, that would help. I have to use this paper to create the proper credentials to access the information he wants."

"What paper is that?"

"This." As he was showing Harry the paper, he thought about Rose.

"I can't see how this is going to get you access to anything. All it has is your name and some statistics about you on it," the innkeeper told him.

Sam added a few more thoughts. That she was 5'4", blonde, and had a mother named Jackie Tyler.

Harry laughed slightly. "Ah. It would be like the Doctor to have something like this," he commented, reading Rose's height, hair color, and maternal figure. "Well, then. Given your age and gender, I'd suggest you think yourself as a graduate student or an intern librarian. I'd wear something a little more professional than those blue jeans you were wearing yesterday, though. A suit. And I could lend you my briefcase."

"That works. Thanks. If there's one thing I can play, it's a graduate student."

Harry gave him a smile and a nod to acknowledge the gratitude. "Well, I best hurry with breakfast and get dressed. No doubt the Doctor is already rummaging through the cellar, pulling every bit of recordings we just made." He finished the tea quickly before standing and leaving the room.

Sam got up and looked at Sally. "Thank you for breakfast. I'll just get myself ready to go. Do you have a suit I could borrow?"

"Certainly, dear. Just come up to my room with me." Sally guided the apparent young woman up the stairs, ready to provide whatever support she could with her excursion.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

The physicist found his way to the University library and walked to the reference desk. "Excuse me, ma'am, but where would I find the historical records for older Chicago homes?"

"In the archives," the woman replied, pointing in the correct direction for him to take. "It's limited access so you'll have to provide a special research ID card." She stopped, looking at the young woman she saw in front of her for a moment. "You do have one, right?"

He'd decided to use Rose's name and thought about her as a graduate student in the history department with full access to the historical records. He hoped this would work.

The woman, looking at the psychic paper, gave him a slightly embarrassed smile. "My apologies, Miss Tyler," she told him. Again she pointed out where he needed to go, this time with a little more respect than shown before.

Sam was amazed that the paper had actually worked. Still, he just smiled and walked to the stacks of books she pointed too. Doing research in the card catalog, he found the books he needed.

"Hmm. Books," a slightly scratchy voice commented from just behind and to the right of him. "You never did use the library for its greater purpose, namely sneaking the odd girl into the stacks to... explore the biology section." Al looked at Sam for a moment before cringing slightly. "Then again, with your aura, maybe that isn't such a good idea. Don't get me wrong. Rose Tyler is a fine looking young lady. But..."

"Oh, hi, Al," Sam responded to his friend distractedly. He was really too engrossed in the research to pay Al's inevitable sexual references much mind.

For a moment, Al seemed nonplussed by the lack of reaction to his words. If Sam didn't get a little annoyed with him, he really must be onto something. "So, what's this all about, then?" he asked with curiosity. "I would have thought you'd be back at the house playing Raymond Burr."

"I'm looking into the possibility of previous metaphysical events happening in that house."

"Great," Al commented sarcastically. "More spooks. So what brought that on? I would have thought Godzilla in the cellar was enough."

"We had a 'situation' last night. I agree that something weird is going on in that house."

"What do you mean by situation?"

"Well, the room went from a cozy sixty-eight degrees to below freezing and then went back up just as fast. Is that a situation enough?"

Dumbstruck for a moment, Al finally stated, "Sam... a sudden change of temperature like that... well... that's one of the signs."

"Signs?"

"You know... that you have..." He looked distinctively uncomfortable. "...visitors from... from beyond."

"We don't know that, Al," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "It could be something else."

"With the giant lizard in the basement too?"

A library worker walked over to check on whoever was speaking to be quiet. He was surprised to only see the woman.

"Exactly," Sam said.

"Well?" Al pressed, gesturing towards the books. "What did you find?

The librarian looked at the woman. "Excuse me, ma'am, but are you supposed to be here?"

Sam pulled out the paper again and showed it to the worker.

For a moment, the man blinked and then shook his head. "Sorry, Miss Tyler. I'll just leave you to your studies. But I suggest that you keep your voice down and your conversation to yourself." With an odd look on his face, he turned and walked away.

Al raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Miss Tyler? What did you show him, Sam?"

Sam turned the paper to the hologram.

Frowning slightly, the older man commented, "Looks like a blank piece of paper to me."

"Hmmm... maybe you're a genius too."

"Well, thanks, but what does that have to do with a blank paper and that librarian?"

"You can't see anything. Doesn't work for me either."

"O-kaay," Al drawled, looking at Sam as if he'd lost his mind.

"I'm telling you the truth, Al. Sally read my name and that we were friends and that I hated caterpillar juice."

"And you're saying what? That piece of paper told her?"

"Yes. You have a better explanation?"

"Mass hypnosis?" Al suggested, not really believing his own words and gaining a glare from Sam. "Listen, all I know is that paper is blank and therefore couldn't possibly be telling anyone anything." He paused. "Maybe this has to do with that Doctor guy. Like he's got psychic powers or something."

"It worked here, Al. You heard him address me as Miss Tyler. How do you explain that?"

"Well... maybe he knows Rose and didn't recognize her until he really got a good look at her."

Sam gave his friend a withering glance. "Go ask Rose if she's ever been to the University of Chicago."

The Admiral hesitated. "Well... maybe he's been to England or something. They could have met there."

"Al... You're just being difficult."

"I'm being a realist," he countered. "There are plenty of logical explanations for what just happened with that worker that have nothing to do with that piece of paper."

"Okay, Al."

"Okay," Al agreed, dropping the subject quickly. "Now, did you find out anything about the house?"

"Nothing. It's like this is the first time something like this has happened there."

"And was that what you were looking for?" Al questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"I was hoping to find something that explained last night's situation and perhaps Godzilla too."

"Well, then, that just proves my point," the hologram stated with confidence, bouncing on his feet. "The house is haunted."

"How does a lack of information prove the house is haunted? I mean, if I found nothing that shows it's ever happened before?"

"It means that it's haunted by whoever owned the house last."

"That's crazy, Al!"

"Oh, and the notion that the guy who calls himself a doctor is actually an alien isn't?"

"I believe him."

Al cringed slightly. "Yeah. Problem is..." he hesitated in his words, taking a breath. "I'm starting to believe him too."

"Why is that a problem?" Sam asked, opening yet another book.

"Well... I mean... aliens! I mean, if he really is an alien... what is he capable of?"

"Quite a bit from what..." Sam suddenly stopped. "Hmm."

"What is it?" Al questioned, looking over his shoulder in an instant.

"This quote from a newspaper clipping. From 1872. There were strange sounds in the cellar of that house. Other than that, nothing."

"What kind of strange sounds?"

"Well, it says here that the neighbors were complaining about the construction noise which the owners of the house said were not theirs. The police investigated and found the sounds came from the cellar. It lasted about two weeks and then stopped."

"Two weeks of construction sounds in the cellar..." Al repeated nervously. "Sam... if that's not a haunting then I don't know what else you'd call it."

"I'm not sure what to call it either, but I'm not jumping to conclusions. Perhaps the Doctor will have an alternative idea."

Al couldn't help but nod at Sam's words.