REVERSE MY POLARITY... PLEASE!
Chapter Two
"This seems extreme," I said, once unyoked, "for a parking violation. Tell us how much our fine is and we'll be on our way."
Leela had a bit more to say but fortunately she said it rapidly enough that no one understood a word of it.
"Welcome to Fring," smiled a gentleman dressed in black velvet from the top of his fedora to the three-inch heels on his knee-high boots and between both of those landmarks standing five feet six inches, the same height as Leela, bareheaded and barefoot. "Are you two repulsive or attractive?"
"I like to think of myself as not too very repulsive, and it would be immodest of me to describe myself as attractive." I tried not to look confused as to his meaning, but I admit I was.
"No," he said, "I meant together."
"We are not together," said Leela.
"Not that way," I added, quickly, surprising myself. I am not generally coy.
The behatted man removed one of his black velvet gloves and pointed at me with his bare hand. I felt compelled to take two steps back, as if he had pushed me, or rather as if a plane exactly my size had pushed me. He aimed his finger at Leela and she took two steps forward, and the surprise on her face told me her steps had been as involuntary as my own. He redonned his glove and said, to me, "You and I are the same."
I replied, "I don't see it, myself," but I knew what he meant. All right, sometimes I am coy.
"Repulsion," he explained.
"You're not so bad. If you feel that strongly about it, though, let's call the whole thing off."
Leela pointed at the now-frowning man, who took two steps toward her; she backed off. Then she pointed at me, and I took two steps toward her. "You did that on purpose," she said, but I could see she didn't believe it, and shook my head. "We are unprotected."
"You, especially." I had lately been encouraging Leela to dress more modestly, not for modesty's sake but as part of her education, and to blend into whatever world we stumbled into. Knowing nothing about Fring except that the TARDIS had brought us there without explanation, I hadn't bothered. If the character who could push and pull us with his bare hands without even touching us was going about begloved, he wasn't just protecting himself; he was protecting us, too.
I surreptitiously aimed my sonic screwdriver, through my pocket, at the ground beneath my feet, which looked like ordinary Earth earth. (We were standing before a tall iron gate behind which towered a much taller building, remarkably like Earth's Art Deco but all iron instead of only sporting, for example, wrought iron features. What I had suspected was borne out by the readings of the screwdriver, which I glanced at just as surreptitiously as we were led through the gate, into the building and up fourteen flights of stairs. The building was not mean, and the higher we ascended, the more light was filtered through the stained glass windows at each landing. At first the steps were loud under our feet, the iron grating rattling fiercely, but higher levels softened this effect with light, plush carpeting. I only noticed this in retrospect; my attention was caught by the readings: Fring had an outer core of swirling molten iron, and its rotation on its axis much swifter than Earth's on its own, making Fring's magnetic field 89 times stronger than Earth's. I only compare it to Earth because Earth advertises itself and its attributes so well. Most planets just spin at whatever rate they spin and keep it to themselves. Earth's self-promotion quite puts the rest of the universe to shame.
Had I studied harder at the Time Lord Academy, I might be able to wax eloquent about Gallifrey's attributes. Shame on me.
We arrived on the fourteenth floor somewhat winded, and I admit I was mildly impressed by the expansive aspect of the empty metallic anteroom in which we found ourselves (Leela looked bored). Hat-man hustled us straight on through into an even larger room, just as metallic but not uninhabited. An unsmiling woman of perhaps Leela's height, all dressed in mesh which I assumed had an iron component, touched each of us, including hat-man, on the forehead, with a mesh-gloved finger. We were neither attracted nor repelled but we did each (including the woman) receive a small electric shock. Leela gasped and jumped back. I stood my ground and Leela, seeing this, frowned but said nothing. Therefore I spoke for both of us:
"Are we prisoners, madame, or are we guests? I would like to know. It will make a difference. If I need to cancel appointments I had better do so before their respective dates."
"You are not prisoners," replied mesh-woman, giving us the once-over and still not smiling. "You are, however, in great danger, and present a danger to others as well. You need protection."
"Oh, very well," I sighed. "I assume you are referring at the very least to our lack of manual encasements. Take us to your tailor."