The Girl Who Escaped Into Space and Time

This was something that would take some getting used to; one flick of a switch and they were somewhere else entirely. Sarah remembered from the previous time to hold onto something the moment the TARDIS took off. She watched, holding laughter back, as the Doctor didn’t do that so well. He would have fallen onto the intricate glass floor if it weren’t for the many handholds on the console. They were put there for a reason, she figured. Did he put them there, or did they just come with these handholds, manufactured onto it as commonplace as a horn is manufactured onto a steering wheel?

At last, seconds later, the machine around them halted its shaking distortion. Once he could easily stand upright, the Doctor activated one of the screens on the console, an old thing suspended next to the main glass column. He twisted a dial on its side and an image flickered to life, one she had difficulty seeing from where she stood.

“Good choice on the winter jacket,” remarked the Doctor. “The TARDIS is picking up some colder temperatures outside; must be winter here.”

“Call it a gut instinct,” Sarah said with a shrug. She zipped her coat up all the way in preparation for the waiting climate. “Didn’t seem sensible to go out into the yard in just pajamas. Some people do that, go out in their pajamas. I don’t get it.” She rolled her eyes, then gestured to the door behind her. “Is it safe out there?”

“Of course it’s safe,” the Doctor assured. The words came out almost as a laugh, like he’d just been asked an absurd question. He flicked the display screen off, spun on his heel, and joined Sarah in front of the door. “Do you want to open it this time?”

She grinned, feeling a warm jump of excitement in her stomach. Sarah’s fingers closed around the metal handle of the TARDIS door, holding her breath when she pulled it open.

Sarah wasn’t sure what she thought she’d see on the other side, and found herself pleasantly surprised by what was there. Instead of a chrome-plated world teeming with little green men and bizarre animals, this planet was more familiar, almost close to home. The ground was hewn into cobblestone streets, puddles of melted snow in places as more tumbled from the sky. Around them, houses at least three storeys tall stood, made from wood and stone, holding warm light within. She could see figures behind the glass of the windows, moving about inside their homes and living their lives.

One hand still gripped the door handle as Sarah leaned out into this new world, eyes wide with wonder. This was another planet. They were on another planet, on a planet that wasn’t Earth! Her gaze turned upward, meeting unfamiliar stars strewn across the sky in constellations she didn’t yet know. Two moons hung there as well, one a bit larger than its sibling, its craters just barely visible to the naked eye.

“Do they all look like this?” she asked. “Different planets, I mean. So familiar, so much like what you’re used to?”

“No, not all of them.” The Doctor stood behind her, hands folded neatly behind his back as he gazed upward as well. “Depends on what you’re used to. To you, this is like Earth, but to another species it’s strange and different.”

“I guess so, yeah. This place, what’s it called?”

“This,” said the Doctor, sweeping one arm wide across the town before them. “This is Arcadia, humble capital of the planet Corandrus.”

“It’s so quiet, though. Aren’t capital cities typically bigger, busier? You know, skyscrapers, cars, the hustle and bustle of it all?”

His head tilted to one side, just a tiny bit, and he laughed. “Didn’t you hear me? Humble capital. Besides, those are Earth standards. Here on Corandrus, a capital is more determined by its historical significance.” The Doctor leaned against one side of the TARDIS door frame. “Arcadia was the first settled town, a historical cornerstone to the exploration of the planet! Besides, there aren’t cars here. Totally different timeline, different technology.”

He hopped out of the blue box and onto the cobblestone street. “Just take a sniff of that air, not even a hint of fossil fuel combustion! Isn’t it refreshing?” As if to demonstrate, he took a lungful of it, almost comical as he did so.

Sarah stepped out after him and took a deep breath as well. At first, she didn’t notice it. It wasn’t every day she went around smelling the air after all, but there was something cleaner about the atmosphere that she had difficulty placing. It was like when she went outside the city, out to the country, and there was something different about it. Chimney smoke and the smell of animals replaced the stink of chemical exhaust and urban sprawl.

“Huh, it really is different. It’s one of those things you never really think about, I guess.”

“Of course, it’s always the small things that make a world of difference.” The Doctor held an open hand out to her in invitation. “Come along now, there’s so much to see!”

She hesitated — he was still so much of a stranger to her — but took his hand regardless. Strange, the Doctor’s skin was a bit colder than hers. He probably had a lower internal body temperature; he was an alien, after all.

They walked down quiet streets, closed doors and shuttered windows, their warmth betraying the apparent lack of life within. Smaller streets led to larger ones, humble houses giving way to more public buildings like shops and schools, and Sarah couldn’t help but notice the trail of candles that was beginning to form. Many of them had long since burned out, becoming nothing but sad piles of wax and useless wicks, but a few burned on still.

“Hey, uh, what’s with these candles here?” Sarah asked. “Is it some kind of a cultural thing?”

As she’d spoken those words the Doctor let go of Sarah’s hand, wandering off to one candle trail and leaning down to get a closer look. He produced a strange object from his pocket and began to scan the candles, examining them with the green light from the object. “Eh, they’re fairly normal, as far as I can tell.” The object made a sort of electrical warbling sound, then clicked, and he checked it again. “Yep, just ordinary candles. It’s strange though, they weren’t here before and I’m pretty sure it’s not a Corandrusian tradition or anything. Not one I can remember.”

Sarah watched from a short distance, trying to make sense of it. Improbable as it was, since this was a completely alien planet, she still had the feeling something was off. “When were you last here?” she asked the Doctor.

He sprang to his feet. “Winter festival, around oh, ten, fifteen years back? Time gets all mixed up when you’re a time traveler, when you’re not moving chronologically. Instead of a line going forward, you’re going back and forth, up and down, all around…” The Doctor gestured about with his hands as he spoke; something he seemed to do a lot. “But yes, winter festivals in Arcadia, biggest celebration of the year. Lovely things, eating and dancing and music like you’ve never heard before. No candles though, at least not like this.”

“Maybe they lead to something,” said Sarah. “They keep going, all the way down this street and onward.” She started along, following the trail, but did so with caution. For all Sarah knew, danger could be just around the corner, and it was best to be careful.

Following the path of candles, the two made their way to the town hall, seemingly towering above the rest of Arcadia with its gray stone structure and the clockwork at its top. The candles gathered here, more than on the streets, clustered messily about the town hall’s steps. Once again, the Doctor took the strange object from his pocket, scanning the area around them with it, coming to a stop as it was pointed at the town hall. The electrical warbling was different than before, more erratic, and he followed it up the front steps, the device held out before him like it was a dowsing rod and he was hunting for a hidden well.

“What is that?” Sarah asked, pointing to the device.

The Doctor tossed the device into the air, like it was for show, and caught it immediately. “Sonic screwdriver,” he said. “One of the best tools in the universe, reliable Gallifreyan technology.”

There it was again, that word. Gallifrey. “That’s where you’re from, right? You mentioned it before, said it was a planet?”

His face darkened for a moment before resuming its usual brightness. “Yes, that’s correct. Home of the Time Lords, the shining capital of—” The Doctor stopped speaking all of the sudden, noticing the rapid beeping from the device in his hand. They were in front of the town hall’s doors, massive and hewn from carved wood. “That’s strange, for the era of this city, there shouldn’t be any readings like this. They’re much too high, too advanced.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s wrong. Not meant to be.” Without a moment’s hesitation, the Doctor pushed one of the wooden doors open, the loud creak echoing through the silence and emptiness of the hall. The only light came from numerous candles and the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver, illuminating a large, almost churchlike interior. Tables and chairs were arranged in neat rows, all turned to face the center of the room. Unlike the rest of the town hall, this central area was slightly elevated, surrounded by a mass of lit candles, and in an old wooden chair on the elevated area of the room sat a stooped figure.

The figure was small and thin, clad in clothes many sizes too large. Its eyes were hazy, sunken into sockets of yellowed skin that appeared to be pulled tight over bones. When the door opened, the figure looked up, pulling itself into a more upright position.

“Another has come to the Questioner,” it croaked, voice aged and decidedly masculine. “Answer my question and regain your freedom, or return to your petty living.”

Sarah’s eyebrows knotted together in confusion. “Who’s this?” she whispered to the Doctor, who seemed just as puzzled.

“The Questioner, I suppose, but I’ve never heard of him before—”

“Enter, girl!” commanded the Questioner, cutting the Doctor off before he could finish his sentence. “Answer my question and regain your freedom, or return to your petty living.”

There he went, repeating the exact same thing as before. Whatever his question was, Sarah didn’t want to answer. Something about this situation felt wrong somehow, but regardless, Sarah stepped forward.

“We’re not citizens here,” she said, thankful that her voice didn’t reflect her own uncertainty. “We’re just passing through—”

“We’re historians,” the Doctor quickly added. “Traveling the planet, studying different forms of architecture for our…thesis paper.” He put an arm around Sarah, giving her a brief nod, as if to say that he had the situation managed. “History students, from the province of Wravostad.”

“There is nothing to see here for your history,” muttered the Questioner. Unlike the Doctor, his body remained almost entirely still when he spoke, save for the subtle movements of a withered mouth. “Answer my question and regain your freedom, or return to your petty living.”

“Oh, but there’s plenty for history!” said the Doctor. “Arcadia is the capital city after all, and its culture is a fascination of mine. It’s so beautiful here, though the candles on the streets were a bit unexpected, I must say. Is there a reason for them? We’re not from here; like I said, here on a study.”

“Answer my question, Doctor.” The Questioner was more demanding this time, and something about his tone made the Doctor step back.

“What question...wait. I never told you my name,” he said. His voice raised up a notch, louder and less like its normal, soft tone. “How do you know my name?”

In an instant, the entire atmosphere of the room changed. It wasn’t a change of temperature, but rather of the situation. Sarah had only known the Doctor for an hour or so, just a short while, but in that time he was always calm and bright, never once raising his voice. There was an old anger in it now, with a pinch of fear, and at that moment the unsettling feel of Arcadia started to make sense.

Her eyes wandered about the inside of the town hall, looking every which way for something, some answer to the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. Chilling uncertainty finally gave way to fear when her gaze turned upward.

She didn’t scream, didn’t know if she could. Fear paralyzed her, her jaw slack as she stared at that thing and it watched her in return. As she kept eye contact with it, not even daring to blink, her hand reached out blindly for the Doctor, fingers brushing the tweed of his jacket sleeve. “Doctor,” she muttered, gently gripping the fabric. “Look.”

There was a second, a split second of silence, then his hand found its way into Sarah’s. Bony fingers wrapped around her own, holding on tight.

The thing in the rafters noticed.

“I need you to trust me,” whispered the Doctor. “Do you trust me, Sarah?”

It wasn’t like she had much of a choice. “Yes. I trust you.”

“When I say so, we’re going to run.” The two of them watched it, waiting for any movement or indication, and when the Doctor said “run”, she didn’t hesitate. There was a slight tug on her wrist as he pulled her along, boots thunking on the hardwood floor, and within seconds she matched his pace. They tore toward the still-open door, passing through it just as Sarah heard something heavy fall to the floor behind them. She could hear it scrambling across the wood, but they were already outside in the snow and fresh air, down the street and past candles when a heavy door slammed shut behind them.

They were a safe distance from the town hall when the Doctor finally slowed down, coming to a stop. Sarah did as well, leaning against the brick of a building, winded. She wasn’t very athletic; sports weren’t exactly her thing, and as such didn’t run very often. As for the Doctor, he seemed mostly unfazed, like this was something he did all the time.

“What was that?” Sarah said, still puffing a bit. His answer wasn’t what she expected at all.

“I don’t know.”

Part of her expected him to know. He was, after all, the Doctor, the alien with the time machine. It made sense that he might have the answers, or at least be more familiar with this sort of thing, but he wasn’t. He was just as unsure as she was, still adjusting to it all just like her.

Sarah was still trying to formulate some sort of answer, something in reply, when the door next to her opened. She jumped back, surprised and a bit embarrassed. This was someone’s house after all, and she’d been caught carelessly leaning on it.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “There’s something in the town hall, and we were running…”

The person behind the door didn’t appear to be the least bit bothered. It looked like a normal human being; two arms, two legs, a torso, and a head, but the skin was different. From the nose all the way to the hairline, furrows likely defined by bone structure rose from the skull, indented similarly to those on some lizards. Their skin was the color of sand at low tide, speckled about with spots but smooth as Sarah’s own, contrasted by long, dark hair that was pulled behind their head, and they wore simple, practical clothes.

“Come inside,” urged the stranger, a voice that seemed neither male nor female. “It isn’t safe.”

Sarah looked to the Doctor, concerned. “They’re a stranger. A stranger is inviting us into their house. This doesn’t seem right.”

“Why should we listen to you?” the Doctor asked.

“Because the streets aren’t for us,” replied the strange person. “You look like you have seen it too.Do you know what it is capable of?”

The Doctor was silent for a moment, letting the words sink in before he turned to Sarah. “They're right, you know,” he said. “I trust them.”

“If you trust them, then so do I.” There was a bravery in her voice that she hadn’t expected. They were entering a stranger’s house on an alien planet, and because the Doctor trusted them she barely hesitated.

The alien stranger stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter. It was warm inside, Sarah could smell food cooking and a fireplace burning behind the door, and with a nod from the Doctor, she stepped inside.

“Oh, by the way, my name is Montressoure,” said the alien.

Sarah stopped, one boot still on the threshold, and smiled up at the alien. “Thank you, Montressoure. My name is Sarah, and this is the Doctor.”

Montressoure’s eyes lit up at the sound of the Doctor’s name. “The Doctor? You don’t say! Well, come on in, I’ll get you both something warm to drink.”