Doctor Who: The Reign of Terror (22 page)

Barbara smiled secretively. 'Oh yes, I
know exactly how you feel,' she agreed warmly. 'It's been such a long
time '

'Why not come with me?' Stirling
suggested impulsively, hoping to prompt them to reveal more about
their mysterious destination.

Ian shook his head emphatically. 'No,
Stirling, we must go our own way,' he declared. 'I'm afraid you
wouldn't understand.'

Before Stirling could pursue his
curiosity, Ian suddenly caught sight of the Doctor leading Susan out
of the gates of the Conciergerie. 'The Doctor! And he's got Susan!'
he cried joyfully as they approached.

They all indulged in a brief but happy
reunion, hugging, kissing, shaking hands and slapping one another on
the back. Then Jules decided that it was time to leave. 'All of you
into the coach ...' he ordered.

The driver, a trusted friend of Jules,
opened the door and the Doctor bossily ushered Susan, Barbara and Ian
inside before clambering in himself.

As the Doctor settled into a corner
seat next to his granddaughter, a terrible shadow of anxiety passed
across his face. Surreptitiously he felt in the pockets of his
costume, his brow furrowing more and more deeply until his fingers at
last closed around the key to the TARDIS. He had remembered to
transfer it from his frock-coat in the tailor's shop after all!

For a moment or two, Jules and James
Stirling were left alone in the porch. 'I hope they will have a safe
journey,' Jules murmured.

'So do I,' Stirling agreed. 'But to
where, Jules? It is strange, but I have the impression that they do
not really know where they are going.' He paused and waved to the
Doctor, who was beckoning to them out of the carriage window. 'But
come to that, do any of us?' he grinned.

An hour later, after a hair-raising
journey at break-neck speeds along the narrow rutted roads and after
several last-minute detours to avoid flooded stretches and patrols
combing the countryside for spies and saboteurs, the Doctor and his
three companions took their leave of Jules Renan and James Stirling
near the burnt-out farm: The sun was just appearing and the rain was
petering out as they waved goodbye and the carriage clattered on
its way towards Calais. The air felt fresh and cool
after the storm as they made their way on foot to the forest clearing
where the TARDIS stood patiently among the branches.

Safely inside, the three younger
travellers stood around the quietly humming control console, while
the Doctor sat in his chair loosening the tight cravat and collar of
his uncomfortable disguise. They were discussing whether or not their
presence had exerted any real influence on the dramatic historical
events of the past few days.

'I assure you, Barbara,' the Doctor was
saying, 'Napoleon simply would not have believed you.'

'All right, Doctor,' Ian interrupted.
'Suppose one of us had written Napoleon a letter ... you know, sort
of describing some of the things that are going to happen to him ...
'

'It still wouldn't make any difference,
Ian,' Susan argued. 'Napoleon would either lose it, or forget all
about it, or decide it was written by a maniac.'

'And if we'd tried to shoot Napoleon,
the bullet would have missed him,' Barbara mused thoughtfully.

The Doctor levered off his shoes and
aired his stockinged feet gratefully. 'The mainstream of history is
fixed and immutable,' he reminded them. 'I think you're all rather
belittling the subject, Our own lives are important in themselves. To
us, at present. As we experience things, so we learn.'

'But do we ever really learn anything?'
Barbara wondered hopelessly.

'Of course we do,' Susan insisted
earnestly. 'I mean, you and Ian aren't the same people who followed
me home from school to the scrapyard in Totters Lane and forced your
way into the TARDIS. You've both changed.'

Ian nodded ruefully. 'Yes, perhaps
you're right,' he admitted, picking the Doctor's enormous plumed hat
up from the console and plonking it on Susan's head. Susan looked
much better now that the colour had returned to her face.

'Perhaps we've all changed,' Barbara
said quietly.

'Well, I certainly intend to change out
of this uncomfortable costume as soon as possible ... ' the Doctor
announced, rising and approaching the console with
a business-like air.

Ian looked at Barbara as if he was
beginning to wish he had accepted James Stirling's invitation to
accompany him to England after all. He would have ended up in the
wrong century, but at least he would have had a pretty good chance of
reaching the right location in space!

'So where to now, Doctor?' he asked
nervously.

'Where to?' echoed the Doctor, throwing
back his head and flaring his eager nostrils as if to sniff out a
likely destination. He bent over the instruments and caught sight of
the small circuit panel he had removed and left on the console three
days before. He flexed his long fingers like a magician at a
children's party and picked up the panel as if it were part of some
fantastic conjuring trick.

'Who knows, Chesterton?' he chuckled
drily, studying the dense circuitry with a roguish smile. 'Who knows?
Because I certainly don't!'

Revision Notes:

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