Doctor Who: Nothing O'Clock: Eleventh Doctor: 50th Anniversary

6

Amy kept pace with the Doctor, and panted out questions as they ran.

‘You think she’s in the house?’

‘I’m afraid she is. Yes. I’ve got a sort of an idea. Something I heard when I was a boy. A sort of a cautionary tale. Look, Amy, don’t let anyone persuade you to ask them what the time is. And if they do, don’t answer them. Safer that way.’

‘You mean it?’

‘I’m afraid so. And watch out for masks.’

‘Right. So these are dangerous aliens we’re dealing with? They wear masks and want you to ask what time it is?’

‘It sounds like them. Yes. But my people dealt with them so long ago. It’s almost inconceivable …’ He looked worried.

They stopped running as they reached Claversham Row.

‘And if it is who I think it is, what I think it – they – it – are … there is only one sensible thing we should be doing.’ The worried expression vanished as rapidly as it had appeared on his face, replaced by an easy grin.

‘What’s that?’

‘Running away,’ said the Doctor, as he rang the doorbell.

A moment’s silence, then the door opened and a girl looked up at them. She could not have been more than eleven, and her hair was in pigtails. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘My name is Polly Browning. What’re your names?’

‘Polly!’ said Amy. ‘Your parents are worried sick about you.’

‘I just came to get my diary back,’ said the girl. ‘It was under a loose floorboard in my old bedroom.’

‘Your parents have been looking for you all day!’ said Amy. She wondered why the Doctor didn’t say anything.

The little girl – Polly – looked at her wristwatch. ‘That’s weird. It says I’ve only been here for five minutes. I got here at ten this morning.’

Amy knew it was somewhere late in the afternoon. Without thinking, she said, ‘What time is it now?’

Polly looked up, delighted. This time Amy thought there was something strange about the girl’s face. Something flat. Something almost mask-like …

‘Time for you to come into my house,’ said the girl.

Amy blinked. It seemed to her that, without having moved, she and the Doctor were now standing in the entry hall. The girl was standing on the stairs facing them. Her face was level with theirs.

‘What are you?’ asked Amy.

‘We are the Kin,’ said the girl, who was not a girl. Her voice was deeper, darker and more guttural. She seemed to Amy like something crouching, something huge that wore a paper mask with the face of a girl crudely scrawled on it. Amy could not understand how she could ever have been fooled into thinking it was a real face.

‘I have heard of you,’ said the Doctor. ‘My people thought you were –’

‘An abomination,’ said the crouching thing with the paper mask. ‘And a violation of all the laws of time. They sectioned us off from the rest of Creation. But I escaped, and thus we escaped. And we are ready to begin again. Already we have started to purchase this world –’

‘You’re recycling money through time,’ said the Doctor. ‘Buying up this world with it, starting with this house, the town –’

‘Doctor? What’s going on?’ asked Amy. ‘Can you explain any of this?’

‘All of it,’ said the Doctor. ‘Sort of wish I couldn’t. They’ve come here to take over the Earth. They’re going to become the population of the planet.’

‘Oh, no, Doctor,’ said the huge crouching creature in the paper mask. ‘You don’t understand. That’s not why we take over the planet. We will take over the world and let humanity become extinct simply in order to get you here, now.’

The Doctor grabbed Amy’s hand and shouted ‘Run!’ He headed for the front door –

– and found himself at the top of the stairs. He called ‘Amy!’ but there was no reply. Something brushed his face: something that felt almost like fur. He swatted it away.

There was one door open, and he walked towards it.

‘Hello,’ said the person in the room in a breathy, female voice. ‘So glad you could come, Doctor.’

It was Margaret Thatcher, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

‘You do know who we are, dear?’ she asked. ‘It would be such a shame if you didn’t.’

‘The Kin,’ said the Doctor. ‘A population that consists of only one creature, but able to move through time as easily and instinctively as a human can cross the road. There was only one of you. But you’d populate a place by moving backwards and forwards in time until there were hundreds of you, then thousands and millions, all interacting with yourselves at different moments on your own timeline. And this would go on until the local structure of time would collapse, like rotten wood. You need other entities, at least in the beginning, to ask you the time, and create the quantum superpositioning that allows you to anchor to a place–time location.’

‘Very good,’ said Mrs Thatcher. ‘Do you know what the Time Lords said, when they engulfed our world? They said that as each of us was the Kin at a different moment in time, to kill any one of us was to commit an act of genocide against our whole species. You cannot kill me, because to kill me is to kill all of us.’

‘You know I’m the last Time Lord?’

‘Oh yes, dear.’

‘Let’s see. You pick up the money from the mint as it’s being printed, buy things with it in time, using the same money over and over, return it moments later. Recycle it through time. And the masks … I suppose they amplify the conviction field. People are going to be much more willing to sell big important things, places that belong to the country, not to an individual, when they believe that the leader of their country is asking for them, personally … and eventually you’ve sold the whole place to yourselves. Will you kill the humans?’

‘No need, dear. We’ll even make reservations for them: Greenland, Siberia, Antarctica … but they will die out, nonetheless. Several billion people living in places that can barely support a few thousand. Well, dear … it won’t be pretty.’ Mrs Thatcher moved. The Doctor concentrated on seeing her as she was. He closed his eyes. Opened them to see a bulky figure wearing a crude black-and-white face mask, with a photograph of Margaret Thatcher on it.

The Doctor reached out his hand and pulled off the mask from the Kin.

The Doctor could see beauty where humans could not. He took joy in all creatures, but the face of the Kin was hard to appreciate.

‘You … you revolt yourself,’ said the Doctor. ‘Blimey. It’s why you wear masks. You don’t like your face, do you?’

The Kin said nothing. Its face, if that was its face, writhed and squirmed.

‘Where’s Amy?’ asked the Doctor.

‘Surplus to requirements,’ said another, similar voice from behind him. A thin man, in a full-faced rabbit mask. ‘We let her go. We only needed you, Doctor. Our Time Lord prison was a torment, because we were trapped in it and reduced to one of us. You are also only one of you. And you will stay here in this house forever.’

The Doctor walked from room to room, examining his surroundings with care. The walls of the house were soft and covered with a light layer of fur. And they moved gently, in and out, as if they were … ‘Breathing. It’s a living room. Literally.’

He said, ‘Give me Amy back. Leave this place. I’ll find you somewhere you can go. You can’t just keep looping and re-looping through time, over and over, though. It messes everything up.’

‘And when it does, we begin again, somewhere else,’ said the woman in the cat mask, on the stairs above him. ‘You will be imprisoned until your life is done. Age here, regenerate here, die here, again and again. Our prison will not end until the last Time Lord is no more.’

‘Do you really think you can hold me that easily?’ the Doctor asked. It was always good to seem in control, no matter how much he worried that he was going to be stuck here for good.

‘Quickly! Doctor! Down here!’ It was Amy’s voice. He took the steps three at a time, heading towards the place her voice had come from: the front door.

‘Doctor!’

‘I’m here.’ He rattled the door. It was locked. He pulled out his screwdriver and soniced the doorhandle.

There was a clunk and the door flew open; the sudden daylight was blinding. The Doctor saw, with delight, his friend, and a familiar big blue police box. He was not certain which to hug first.

‘Why didn’t you go inside?’ he asked Amy, as he opened the TARDIS door.

‘Can’t find the key. Must have dropped it while they were chasing me. Where are we going now?’

‘Somewhere safe. Well, safer.’ He closed the door. ‘Got any suggestions?’

Amy stopped at the bottom of the control-room stairs and looked around at the gleaming coppery world, at the glass pillar that ran through the TARDIS controls, at the doors.

‘Amazing, isn’t she?’ said the Doctor. ‘I never get tired of looking at the old girl.’

‘Yes, the old girl,’ said Amy. ‘I think we should go to the very dawn of time, Doctor. As early as we can go. They won’t be able to find us there, and we can work out what to do next.’ She was looking over the Doctor’s shoulder at the console, watching his hands move, as if she was determined not to forget anything he did. The TARDIS was no longer in 1984.

‘The Dawn of Time? Very clever, Amy Pond. That’s somewhere we’ve never gone before. Somewhere we shouldn’t be able to go. It’s a good thing I’ve got this.’ He held up the squiggly whatsit, then attached it to the TARDIS console, using crocodile clips and what looked like a piece of string.

‘There,’ he said proudly. ‘Look at that.’

‘Yes,’ said Amy. ‘We’ve escaped the Kin’s trap.’

The TARDIS engines began to groan, and the whole room began to judder and shake.

‘What’s that noise?’

‘We’re heading for somewhere the TARDIS isn’t designed to go. Somewhere I wouldn’t dare go without the squiggly whatsit giving us a boost and a time bubble. The noise is the engines complaining. It’s like going up a steep hill in an old car. It may take us a few more minutes to get there. Still, you’ll like it when we arrive: the Dawn of Time. Excellent suggestion.’

‘I’m sure I will like it,’ said Amy, with a smile. ‘It must have felt so good to escape the Kin’s prison, Doctor.’

‘That’s the funny thing,’ said the Doctor. ‘You ask me about escaping the Kin’s prison. By which, you mean, that house. And I mean, I did escape, just by sonicing a doorknob, which was a bit convenient. But what if the trap wasn’t the house? What if the Kin didn’t want a Time Lord to torture and kill? What if they wanted something much more important? What if they wanted a TARDIS?’

‘Why would the Kin want a TARDIS?’ asked Amy.

The Doctor looked at Amy. He looked at her with clear eyes, unclouded by hate or by illusion. ‘The Kin can’t travel very far through time. Not easily. And doing what they do is slow, and it takes an effort. The Kin would have to travel back and forth in time fifteen million times just to populate London.

‘But what if the Kin had all of Time and Space to move through? What if it went back to the very beginning of the Universe, and began its existence there? It would be able to populate everything. There would be no intelligent beings in the whole of the space–time continuum that weren’t the Kin. One entity would fill the Universe, leaving no room for anything else. Can you imagine it?’

Amy licked her lips. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes I can.’

‘All you’d need would be to get into a TARDIS and have a Time Lord at the controls, and the Universe would be your playground.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Amy, and she was smiling broadly now. ‘It will be.’

‘We’re almost there,’ said the Doctor. ‘The Dawn of Time. Please. Tell me that Amy’s safe, wherever she is.’

‘Why ever would I tell you that?’ asked the Kin in the Amy Pond mask. ‘It’s not true.’