This latest entry in the 'Family Reunion' saga is directly based on the comic strip 'Ship of Fools', originally written by Steve Moore and published in Doctor Who Weekly #23-24. I also took inspiration from certain episodes of The Twilight Zone and Star Trek: The Next Generation.
Out in the still and inky blackness of deep space, a peculiar cloud of what seemed to be some form of cosmic fog drifted almost sinisterly through the vast silent void. The swirls of gas, a ghastly palette of greens and purples, churned and shifted as if it were alive, creating an eerie spectacle for any who dared gaze upon it. Its size was vast, stretching out for a couple of hundred or so kilometres, its colours casting a faint luminescence that pierced the surrounding darkness like a beacon of alien life.
At the core of this bizarre phenomenon was the colossal shape of a luxury space cruise ship, its chrome hull reflecting the spectral lights with an eerie glow. It was a fine-looking vessel, a thing of great beauty and opulence, and it looked quite out of place, appearing to stand still, adrift in the strange vapours that blanketed it.
A lone ship, floating aimlessly in the mist, going on and on to nowhere, abandoned to the whims of the cosmos...
With an unusually sluggish groan, the TARDIS materialised within the cavernous shuttle bay of the luxury space cruise ship, and a few seconds later, the Doctor and Jenny emerged to take in their surroundings.
"Okay, Mum, so where are we this time?" asked Jenny.
"Hmm, I'm afraid I've no idea, Jenny," said the Doctor, her expression one of concern as she ran her hand along the side of the TARDIS's blue wooden police box form. "We seemed to have passed through some form of temporal turbulence during landing, and the TARDIS did not like it at all, not one bit. The poor old girl's readings are all over the place."
"Well, it looks to me like we've landed on either a space cruiser or a space station," said Jenny, as they stepped away from the TARDIS and explored their surroundings, their footsteps echoing off the cold, steel floors. "The design layout of this place looks like one for a shuttle bay, and a pretty tidy one too, if you ask me."
"Not to mention apparently deserted," said the Doctor ponderously. "I wonder where everyone is?"
As they looked around, Jenny caught site of a clock on the wall, which gave the time as 06:17. Next to it was a porthole, which revealed a mesmerising cloud outside.
"Looks like we're drifting through some sort of nebula or something," she said, as she glanced through the window. "Do you think that's what making the TARDIS feel on the queasy side, Mum?"
"Possibly," said the Doctor, as she stood next to her daughter and regarded the cloud outside. "Though it would have to have some pretty unusual properties to affect the TARDIS. I wonder what it could be?"
Jenny shivered a bit, feeling as though there was something not quite right about this place. "Mum, I don't know if it's just me, but I'm getting some weird vibes about all this. I can't put my finger on it, but I feel like there's something wrong here. Just... wrong."
"It's not just you," said the Doctor solemnly. "I feel it too. Time Lords have a unique relationship with time-and-space. We can usually sense when there's something amiss with time."
Just then, their worried pondering was cut short by the sound of a set of double doors sliding open with a hiss, and the Doctor and Jenny spun around, to see three figures walk in, with expressions of interest on their faces. Judging from the manner of their different attire, they did not appear to be members of the ship's crew. The first figure was a handsome-looking man with a pencil-style moustache, dressed in a sharp tuxedo. The woman next to him was a beautiful lady with blonde hair, attired in a white dress of a halter neck gown design, complete with long evening gloves that reached passed her elbows. The third individual was a man in his forties, with flowing dark hair and a goatee beard, dressed in a causal jumper and jeans. He also appeared to be blind, judging from his dark glasses and the walking cane in his hand, yet he moved with a confidence that suggested he was quite used to navigating his environment without sight.
"By Alderbaran! Visitors!" said the man in the tuxedo excitedly. "What a novelty!"
"A novelty indeed," said the blind man with the goatee, as he rubbed his chin with the top of his cane. "Been too long since we've met new people. How many are there?"
"Two of them, Leonart," replied the woman in the gown. "Quite a pair of attractive ladies. It's a real pity you can't see them."
A little taken aback by this friendly reception, the Doctor and Jenny cautiously approached the trio, the Doctor extending her hand to the man with the moustache. "Hello, I'm the Doctor, and this is my daughter, Jenny."
The man took her hand and kissed it gallantly, his smile never wavering. "Ah, a delightful pleasure to meet you both. I am Rolf, and this is my charming wife, Cassandra, and our esteemed friend is Leonart."
"And what brings you two travellers to our little slice of the cosmos?" asked Leonart pleasantly. "For that matter, how did you get onboard?"
"Oh, our ship landed in this bay just a few moments ago. We just happened to be passing through," said Jenny. "Actually, we're not actually sure where we are. This is a ship, right?"
"Yes, a space-liner," said Rolf. "We're on a long pleasure cruise. We'll show you around if you like."
"Um, thank you. That would be nice," said the Doctor, a puzzled frown on her face, as she wondered why these people seemed so willing to take her and Jenny at face value.
The three newcomers led the Doctor and Jenny out of the shuttle bay and into the opulent corridors of the ship, the floor beneath their feet a deep crimson carpet. The walls were adorned with various paintings and holographic pictures, depicting impressive landscapes from a number of different worlds, and there were also a number of beautiful flowers and plants sitting on stands, the scent from them giving off a faint but pleasant aroma that filled the air.
"Pardon me for saying so," said the Doctor, "but you don't seem to be that bothered at discovering two potential stowaways onboard this ship?"
Casandra shrugged. "Why should we be bothered? It's nice to have new company and a bit of change about the place, considering how long this journey has taken."
"And where is the ship going to?" asked Jenny curiously.
"Well, everywhere, I suppose," said Rolf simply. "What does it matter?"
The Doctor frown deepened. "I'm sorry, but did you say... everywhere?"
"Right," said Leonart with an expression that seemed cheerful on the surface, but had hints of a weary fatigue hidden beneath. "If you have an infinite amount of time, you can visit an infinite number of places! And time is something we've lots of here..."
"Oh, I know the feeling," said the Doctor. "Just how long have you been on this cruise?"
"Oh, who can tell?" said Leonart. "Tell you what, I'll take you to Willoughby. He's writing a journal of our voyage."
"Oh, Willoughby's such a bore!" said Cassandra with a roll of her eyes. "If you'll pardon us, Rolf and I will go and have a drink."
Rolf nodded in agreement, looping an arm through hers. "Yes, we'll be in the Pan-Galactic Lounge if you need us."
"Sounds delightful," said the Doctor. "Would you mind if Jenny tagged along with you? I'm sure she'll find it more interesting at the lounge than listening to someone scribble away in a book."
Jenny was about to argue that she was not one easily bored by books, but she caught her mother's knowing look and nodded in understanding. She knew what that look meant. The Doctor wanted her daughter to find out as much as she could from Rolf and Cassandra, while she spoke in the meantime to Willoughby.
"Sure, I'd love to see the Pan-Galactic Lounge," Jenny said with a sweet smile.
"Capital!" said Rolf happily. "This way, my dear."
And so, Jenny allowed herself to be escorted by the couple, glancing around at the ship's opulent decorations, while the Doctor followed Leonart down a different corridor. The man's steps were surprisingly surefooted despite his blindness, and the Doctor sense of puzzlement grew as she observed his unerring sense of direction.
"Even after all these centuries, you humans still manage to astonish me," said the Doctor, as Leonart continue to lead the way. "You're blind, yet you know the way around as easily as if you could see."
"Oh, I've had plenty of time to learn," chuckled Leonart. "By the way, what is the time now?"
The Doctor glanced at a nearby clock on the wall. "It says 06:30."
"Ah good, still got time to see Willoughby before it happens again," said the blind man, as he continued to lead the way with unnatural ease.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Before what happens again?"
"Why, before we get blown to smithereens, that's what!" said Leonart, his tone surprisingly light-hearted considering the morbid topic of his statement, and he continued to march ahead before the astonished Doctor could ask what he meant by that bizarre remark.
The Doctor was more convinced than ever that there was something very strange going on here. She had to find out what it was, but she suspected that she was not going to like the answers.
Upon reaching the Pan-Galactic Lounge, Rolf and Cassandra had led Jenny through a set of gleaming double doors into an expansive room filled with the warm, mellow sounds of music and laughter. The whole place was tastefully designed with an art-deco style, like something from Earth in the 1920s, and around the place were various other passengers, all dressed in their finest attire, mingling and chattering as if there were no tomorrow.
It seemed quite a merry scene, and yet Jenny could see in the eyes of everyone around her a hint of... Sadness? No, it was perhaps worse than that. It was boredom and profound resignation! However jolly the people were acting, Jenny was getting the distinct impression that they were fed up and not really enjoying themselves at all.
Rolf and Cassandra led Jenny over to the bar, where the bartender, a dapper fellow in a bow tie, was busy mixing more drinks for the passengers.
"Ah, good evening, Rolf. Miss Cassandra," said the bartender in a friendly manner, like everyone-else onboard. "And... I'm sorry, I can't recall your face, Miss?"
Jenny gave him a bright smile. "I'm Jenny. I'm new here. Just come onboard actually."
"Oh really," said the bartender with a strange look of sympathy on his face. "My condolences, young lady. You're stuck on this mad, godforsaken ship like the rest of us."
"I beg your pardon?" Jenny asked, her jolly manner faltering slightly at the bartender's words.
"Oh don't let Mike get you down, dear," said Cassandra, before turning to Rolf. "Now what shall we have to drink? Time for cocktails yet, dear?"
"Cassandra, honey, it's always time for cocktails," smiled Rolf, as he glanced at the clock, which now read 06:40. "And I think we have just enough time to finish them before the big bang comes again."
Jenny's eyes widened. "The big bang?"
"Ah, yes, the little... phenomenon that keeps us all here," said Rolf, his smile dipping slightly. "But don't worry, it's not as dramatic as it sounds. At least, not after the first few times you go through it."
"Righhht," said Jenny slowly, trying to process the peculiar statement. She considered asking more about this, but she decided it was perhaps better if she found out a bit more about her hosts first.
"So, Rolf, what do you do for a living?" she asked as the bartender presented them with their drinks.
"Oh, I'm a writer," Rolf replied, his moustache seeming to twitch with a hint of pride. "At the risk of sounding immodest, I've penned the most lively romance novels this side of Andromeda. Or so the reviewers kindly say."
"Sounds like fun," said Jenny politely. "I confess, I haven't yet read that much fiction. What do your novels usually involve?"
"Well," Rolf leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "the usual fare. Dashing heroes, damsels in distress, love that spans the galaxies, and a good ol' fashioned space battle or two to keep things interesting. You know the sort of thing. Certainly more interesting than the very real existence we go through on this old tub."
Cassandra took a sip from her drink, a look of nostalgia playing across her features. "And I, my dear Jenny, am an actress. I've starred in countless holo-vids and theatre productions. Though, admittedly, it has been quite some considerable time since my last performance."
"And when was that?" asked Jenny.
"Oh, just before we began our voyage on this blasted ship. My, what a long time ago that was."
Jenny frowned. Surely the passengers on this ship cannot have been on this flight as long as they were implying? Yet the weary look in Rolf and Cassandra's eyes, as well as all the other passengers, suggested differently. Just how long has this cruise been going on?
The clock now read 06:45, as the Doctor and Leonart reached Willoughby's cabin. It was a small, dimly lit room, the walls lined with shelves crammed with books, and the floor scattered with various pieces of paper. The only light source was a single desk lamp that cast a small pool of yellow light onto a cluttered table. Seated in front of the desk that the lamp was resting on was a dark-haired middle-aged man, calmly smoking a cigarette as he hunched over a notebook, scribbling away furiously. A bottle of whisky and a half-empty glass stood beside him, and his expression was one of intense concentration mixed with a hint of misery.
"Hello, Willoughby!" said Leonart. "This charming lady is the Doctor. She's looking to find out a bit about our little cruise, and I thought you might like to show her some of your recent journals."
Willoughby simply shrugged, without even looking up from his current scribblings. "Help yourself. Just keep the noise down, I'm busy. Got a lot to do today..."
"Don't worry, I'll be as quiet as a mouse," promised the Doctor with a grin, as she selected one of the books at random and quickly scanned her eyes over the pages within.
"Hmm, so this is a pleasure ship in the mid 36th century that set off from Earth just a couple of weeks ago," she said a few minutes later, after going through several large books at such a speed that amazed Leonart. "Nothing unusual so far. Let's have a look at today's entires."
The Doctor's eyes darted to the current journal, which sat on the desk and lay open at the last page. She picked it up, flicked through the pages and read through the last few entries. The first few pages concerning today were about the ship entering the strange cloud, but as she reached the entries closer to the current time, she noticed something decidedly odd to say the least. The last half-hour or so's entries were nothing but the word 'boredom', repeated over and over again!
"Um, pardon me for stating the obvious," the Doctor said with a hint of concern, glancing up at the man who was still scribbling away, not looking up from his work, "but you seem to have spent the last thirty-to-forty minutes writing the same word, about a thousand times!"
"Of course!" snapped Willoughby, biting down bitterly on the end of his cigarette. "That's all there is here on this ship. Utter, unending boredom!"
Leonart gently took the baffled Doctor by the arm and led her out of the cabin, his expression one of sympathy. "I'm sorry, my dear. I'm afraid you won't get any more out of him. He's in a bad mood. Come to think of it, He's been in a bad mood for quite a while."
"For how long exactly?" asked the Doctor, a nasty suspicion forming in her mind. "When exactly did he get in a bad mood, Leonart?"
"Oh, since 06:17," said Leonart simply. "Incidentally, what's the time now?"
The time was now 07:02, and in the lounge, Jenny was still try to understand why everyone was behaving so strangely. After chatting a bit more to Rolf and Cassandra, she had tried to speak to the other guests. But though their manner was charming and friendly, their words were eerily repetitive and shallow, as though small-talk was the only way they now knew to have a conversation, and they all had that same look of despair and boredom in their eyes. On a nearby platform, a singer called Krylic was performing a new song, but no-one was paying the slightest bit of attention. When Jenny asked one person why they were not listening to the rather beautiful melody, he shrugged and said:
"Oh, I've heard it already."
"But, Krylic said that it's new!" said Jenny in disbelief. "When did you first hear it?"
"About 07:02," came the simple reply.
Jenny's eyes narrowed as she glanced back at the clock, which now showed the time as being 07:03. Something was definitely wrong about all this. She took a sip of her drink, trying to understand just what in the universe was going on here. Either everybody on this ship was crazy... Or something incomprehensibly strange was going on here.
Just then, Rolf and Cassandra came over, their arms linked, their expressions as bright as ever. "Having a good time, my dear?" asked Rolf, as he took a seat beside her at the bar.
"I suppose so," said Jenny, looking at her two host quizzically. "But that singer, Krylic, said that was a new song, but people have already heard it. How is that possible? Just what is going on here? None of this is really normal, is it?"
"You mean," said Cassandra gently, "you haven't figured it out yet? You really don't know what is happening to all of us?"
"I wouldn't be asking if I knew!" huffed Jenny impatiently.
"No, of course you wouldn't," said Rolf gently, a sad look on his face. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this my dear, but the fact is that you, like us, are trapped here, a prisoner of time itself. And we are damned for all eternity."
"Tell me, Leonart, what is happening here?" asked the Doctor urgently. "Earlier you spoke of getting blown up again, and you know your way around this ship rather too well, as though you've been on it for far longer than a few months. Willoughby, meanwhile, writes of boredom during the last hour, as though he's been through all this before. And then there's that strange feeling of foreboding that Jenny and I both felt ever since we first arrived. Just what is going on?"
"You mean you genuinely don't know?" said Leonart, as they paused in the corridor. "Well, I suppose you ought to brace yourself for a shock then. You see, this ship is about to blow up."
"Blow up?!" said the Doctor incredulously. "When?"
"At precisely 07:07," came the calm reply.
Alarmed at hearing this, the Doctor's eyes darted to the clock. It now read 07:06, and as she watched in helpless horror, it changed a second later to 07:07. The lights flickered, the ship's artificial gravity stuttered, and a sudden, overwhelming pressure built in the air. The very next instant...
KA-CHROOOM!
All at once, the luxurious cruise ship was ripped apart by a colossal explosion that erupted from the very centre of the ship. The air was filled with the deafening roar of destruction, as the fiery maelstrom expanded and consumed everything in its path with the ferocity of a raging inferno, and when it cleared, there was nothing left in its wake but scorched debris, twisted metal and the odd charred body, floating about in the airless vacuum.
To Be Continued...?