2—Paint the Town Blue
Jorbithoth Street was more narrow than the grand limousine so at the corner of the alley Adora and the Doctor got out. Adora gave the auto-driver instructions to wait for them at Redgate Square since it was close to their current location and so she could show the Doctor the massive floating waterfalls. The square also boasted the last Alvastra Fire Ferns in that galaxy.
The robot driver asked, "What color do you wish the vehicle to be upon your return so you can identify it?"
There was really only one answer to that. "Cobalt blue, please."
As the car drove off they started walking down the street, the Doctor holding the umbrella. Despite the chilly, wet conditions the markets here were teeming with people though it was also in the middle of a workday. A basket-weaver presented his offerings with pride, and bakers and butchers called out their prices and selections as the crowds hurried past. They went by a Nerve-Ana massage parlor, a tiny florist shop and a bustling fondue restaurant. Adora listened to the trade languages, trying to identify some of the speech and held onto the Doctor partly so he didn't get sidetracked but mostly so she didn't lose the shelter of the umbrella.
At last they found themselves in front of a rust and purple awning with a sign on the front of the building that read, "Mikros Hardware and Space Parts. Haggling, Barter and Trade Highly Encouraged, No Borrowing or Credit."
The Doctor clutched at Adora's arm, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "'Mikros Hardware and Space Parts'! I've always wanted to come here; they have the best ship parts selection in seven hundred and fifty-nine galaxies and Mikros is willing to take almost anything in payment. He did a favor for some Time Lord or other ages ago and the Time Lord gave him the interior of a TARDIS in trade. It doesn't have a console or the ability to move, but it's basically one massive stadium of parts. I can't believe I'm actually here—a dream come true!"
"And we're going to be here a long time, aren't we?"
The Doctor didn't answer; he was frantically searching through his pockets. "Where, oh where did I put it? I had it just the other day and it's perfect for trade."
"What did you lose?" Adora asked impatiently.
The Doctor was still pawing through his pockets. "There!" he said triumphantly, pulling out a glowing, opalescent, multifaceted jewel the size and shape of half an orange. "I knew I still had it."
"Is that . . . you really have . . . that's the Wycumvest Nova Star, one of the most famous gems in the whole nebula! How did you get it?"
The Doctor shrugged. "Now there's a story, but not one for now. I meant to give it to you as a gift but then I got busy and didn't stop by when I should have . . . you can hold it if you want."
Adora held out her hands and cradled the stone for a bit, then gave it back to the Doctor carefully. "It's stunning. What will you trade it for, just the one TARDIS part?"
"I have some things in mind if I can find them. Meet you back here in three hours? There's a famous bookshop around the corner, two square miles' worth of merchandise. They give out maps and transmats back to the cashier desk."
"I've been there often," Adora told him, "mostly for book signings; the owner knows me and we have a good working relationship. But wait—I thought I was going to pay for the parts!"
"Do you have anything special like this to trade? Using plain credits will eat you alive, whereas a one-of-a-kind like this . . . Besides, I love to haggle for parts; I'd like nothing better than to get a steal out of this beauty." The Doctor's eyes were dancing.
Adora smiled fondly at him. "Your loss. I'll meet you here in three hours, but if you're later than twenty minutes I'm coming in and dragging you out, done or not."
The Doctor grinned. "I'll do my best!" he told her. He handed her the umbrella then dove into the building.
Adora went a little way down the street to The Page-Turner, heading for the cashier's desk. Simulon, the owner, was just finishing up with a customer but gave Adora a polite nod. He was a shark in a cyborg seawater suit, but still somehow managed to be handsome in his own way. As soon as the first customer left he held out a fin to Adora and said in his metallic translator voice, "Good to see you again, Adora. Your agent was just talking to me about a book-signing he wanted to arrange for your new novel; have you spoken to him about it?"
"I know he wants one," Adora replied, "but we don't have any dates or plans as of yet; the ink's barely dry on 'No Time for Tears' . . ."
Simulon told her, "We've had brisk sales since it came on the scene, even sold out a few times. It's also generated sales for the first two novels in the trilogy. Are you planning on continuing the 'Mail-order Bride' series? It's been a go-getter so far . . ."
"I haven't decided yet," Adora replied. "One project I've had on the back-burner for a while now is 'Love on the Ladris', a story set on a pleasure-liner bound for Najawertenfarr with various people sailing into romance."
"Classy, classy," Simulon mused. "You know if you do go that route you'll have to take a cruise yourself . . . strictly for research, of course."
Adora smiled at him. Simulon was always insisting that she needed a vacation and gave suggestions whenever he got a chance; it was a harmless game between the two of them. Loftily she replied, "That's what travel reviews are for; look up the trip and get people's opinions and experiences without leaving the privacy of your home, just as good as if you went yourself. Besides, I just had a trip to 90th century Earth for a wedding; I don't need to leave my house again for another decade."
"Who got married, if you don't mind my asking . . ."
"It was one of my boys actually; Kenarn is settling down with a wonderful, young ice hockey player. She's gorgeous and they're very much in love," Adora responded with a bright smile, thinking of the happy couple.
Simulon spread his fins wide. "Well, we must celebrate such good news! Anything in stock is half-price, any type—that includes the hard-backs."
"Oh, Simulon, that's so kind." Adora told him. "I'm actually looking for something specific to buy and I need your help."
"A challenge!" Simulon chortled. "You know I love those, Adora. Pick your poison."
"I want some sort of book related to or written for a Time Lord," Adora announced.
Simulon thought for a bit, then told her, "I have just the thing, I think . . . it's not an auto-book, so it's in the stacks and you'll have to go get it, I'm afraid—I'm by myself today."
Simulon typed in some information on the automatic card catalog and handed her a square device which fit in her palm. "This is a glow-box When you get close, this will start pulsing a faint chartreuse. When it's bright you've found the right shelf, and when it's steady you have the right book. Just let me give you a transmat button."
He looped a necklace over her head which was a mauve button. "Press this and you're back here. Now, to start you off . . . you need to go fifty-four rows straight back. Then hang a left and go sixty-seven rows and take a right. The glow-box will take you from there. There are levitators for getting up to the higher shelves. Have a good time exploring."
"How will I know if I have the right book?" Adora protested. "You didn't give me a title . . ."
The shark grinned, showing all his razor-sharp teeth. "You'll know right away; it's the only thing like it in any of the stacks. If it won't help I'll give you credit until your next visit, but I think you'll be pleased with it when you find it."
Adora was puzzled, but set out on her journey.
The lighting was dim as she got further and further from the entrance and the smell of paper and other materials grew stronger as she delved deeper. Here and there she heard rustlings of other customers thumbing through selections or using the levitators to get to higher levels of books. She got to the place Simulon had told her to start and looked at the glow-box, which was blinking faintly. She moved forward a row, and was dismayed to see the light almost go out. She retraced her steps and turned to the right. This time the glow-box light stayed on.
She wove her way through the shelves looking for her prize. At last she got to the Mechanics section and stopped. Was she in the right place? Had Simulon been wrong? She had expected books on politics, history, maybe even literature or poetry, but not this. Still, the glow-box was flashing, so she kept going. She got on one of the levitators, which was like a window-washer's platform on a tall building and traveled high into the stacks. Finally the glow-box stopped pulsing and shone a steady neon green beside a heavy, wide tome of knowledge She had to pull hard to wrench the book out of its space on the shelves and then dusted off the cover. She almost whooped with joy, but managed to contain herself. Holding the book to her chest she pressed the mauve button and re-appeared at the cashier's desk.
"Simulon, it's perfect!" she breathed. "Wherever did you find it?"
"Actually, I didn't," Simulon told her, "Mikros did. He'd had it on display for absolutely ages and no one ever asked about it so he gave it to me with the understanding he'd get ten percent of the cut when it sold. He'll be happy to know someone's getting use out of it."
"Oh, it will get used, I promise," Adora replied joyfully. "How much?"
Simulon started crunching numbers and muttering to himself. Finally he told her, "Eleven thousand credits. It's a bit steep, but . . ."
"I don't care," Adora said with a recklessness she rarely displayed. "I absolutely must have it; it's a gift for someone special."
"Of course!" Simulon agreed. "Let's just get the retinal scan out of the way . . . there you go, all done and paid for." She watched as the shark wrapped her purchase with great care. "Here's to the happy receiver." He slid the book over to Adora.
Adora smiled widely. "Thank you ever so much, Simulon; you have no idea how much this means. I'll get with my agent to talk dates soon!"
Adora rushed out of the store quite forgetting about the rain. She hurriedly opened the umbrella and went back up the street toward Mikros Hardware and Space Parts. She glanced at her watch and found it had been more than four hours since she had gone into the bookstore. She looked around but saw no sign of the Doctor, so she marched in and said to the creature behind the counter, "I'm here to collect my husband; have you seen him?"
The creature, a tarantula the size of a small pony asked through a translator, "Which one would your husband be? Does he look like you?"
"Yes," Adora responded, "Tall, thin, brown hair, but the same color skin and placement of features and appendages. Please tell me he's still here . . ."
"Still here? It'll take a Yilpdudon space crane to drag him out! He's deep in it with Dad over that silly gem; I don't see why people would put such value on a small hunk of rock."
"It's a pretty hunk of rock," Adora explained. Can I go back there and look for them?"
"I'm afraid not, begging your pardon," the spider told her. "If you think The Page-Turner down the street is a maze, you can only imagine this place. We won't let anyone back there without a guide any more; some people were getting lost for days and Dad just couldn't afford the insurance payments after a while. I can use the intercom and let him know he's wanted . . . what is your species, sir-or-madam?"
"I'm a female Gallifreyan."
"Right. Just a moment, ma'am."
The spider pushed a button behind the counter and what looked to be a blue microphone popped out. It leaned into the microphone and called out, "Dad? Dad? A Gallifreyan lady out here wants her husband back, the guy with the gem."
"How long ago did they leave?" Adora wanted to know.
"They've been gone at least three hours; Dad didn't want him flashing the gem around so he took him in the back and they must still be dealing. Don't worry, it's almost dinner time; Dad'll wrap this up quickly so we can eat. Uonexis crickets tonight; I've been waiting all week. Dad!"
The Doctor appeared, a huge, sturdy bag in one hand and a green ticket in the other. A larger spider was just telling him, "Remember, the in-store coupon is only good within the next two centuries; I can't drag these things out like I used to. And the extras are all arranged; just give them your name at your stops and you'll get right in. Pleasure doing business with you."
"The pleasure was all mine, Mikros," the Doctor insisted. "I'll be back soon!"
The Doctor caught sight of Adora and picked her up, whirling her around a time or two. "It was brilliant, Adora, just brilliant! I got the magnetron acceleration unit I needed, a new balanced fusion inverter, a one thousand credit coupon and some extras just for us. Come on; you'll never guess what I've lined up . . ."
"Put me down!" Adora insisted, trying to be stern. "You'll drop your bag."
The Doctor put down his bag instead of her. "This has been a wonderful afternoon, Adora, you can't imagine how much fun this has been! The magnetron acceleration unit is at least six hundred years newer than the one I have and with good care it should last for centuries and the balanced fusion inverter is practically brand-new—just over a thousand light-years on it. Now, we have to hurry; we've got stops to make."
"Stops?" Adora questioned.
The Doctor picked up his bag, took the umbrella from her and rushed up the street, making her run to keep up. She saw that he had stopped in front of the Nerve-Ana massage parlor and she nudged him in the side. "Are we going in? Usually there's a waiting list a light-year long."
The Doctor was bouncing again. "Mikros has connections, just like your agent chap; he's arranged a thirty-minute massage for both of us."
Adora impulsively pulled the Doctor down to her level for a sweet kiss. "You're wonderful, you really are. You certainly know how to make a lady feel special . . ."
"That's not all," the Doctor murmured, breaking the kiss. "We've got reservations at the fondue restaurant too; all the evening's specials."
"And I got you a gift," Adora told him. "It's something you've needed all your lives but never had or even knew you wanted. It's perfect for you. Too bad you'll have to wait until we get back home."
"I can't wait! Now for a little pampering for my Time Lady."
The massage was as grand as Adora could have wished. Dinner was just as magnificent. Adora even put up with the local custom of couples feeding each other dessert. The two of them laughed, had excellent conversation and delighted in a "perfect" afternoon.
The rain stopped and the sun was setting beautifully when they got in the car and enjoyed the ride home. The Doctor stole a few kisses on their way back, and Adora let herself put aside her stately, aloof personality and truly live "in the moment". It wasn't until they got back home that Adora's mind reconnected to her body. "We have to go upstairs," she told the Doctor.
"What for?" the Doctor questioned. "There's plenty of room—"
"All the bedrooms on the first floor are taken and I refuse to do something like this in one of the boys' rooms."
"There's something wrong with your room?"
Adora tried to explain. "It's all I have."
"You don't have to justify it, Adora. It's your home, and we'll do this on your terms. Upstairs?"
Adora sighed in relief; he hadn't pushed for an explanation or become upset. They made their way to an unused guest room and thought of nothing but each other until morning.