Doctor Who and the Family of Blood (A Target novel)

Chapter One: Completely Human

Inside the TARDIS, everything was quiet apart from the strange humming noise coming from the central column. The TARDIS was enjoying that very rare thing: a moment of calm between adventures with her best friend – the Doctor.

All of a sudden the ‘Pull to Open’ blue door was pushed open with full force by Martha Jones, almost falling into the space/time machine. The Doctor fell in behind her.

‘GET DOWN,’ he screamed at her as a green laser beam shot over their heads, hitting the console unit of the no longer peaceful ship. Sparks flew above them. ‘Did they see you?’

‘I-I don’t know,’ Martha was struggling to come to her senses as the Doctor slammed shut the TARDIS door and pulled her to her feet. ‘I was too busy running.’

‘But did they see you?’ The Doctor studied her, desperate for any trace of an answer. ‘Martha, it’s important. Did they see your face?’

‘No,’ she seemed uncertain at first, but she knew the Doctor needed to hear it. ‘They couldn’t have.’

The Doctor threw his long coat over one of the many TARDIS pillars as he ran to the console. He immediately started flicking switches and pulling levers. Desperately running around the TARDIS column.

‘Off we go,’ he declared, throwing a final switch. He looked up at the central column, pleased with himself. They were escaping. Oh his clever ship, she’d saved them again. But then-

An alarm sounded from one the blue monitors. The Doctor studied it and froze. He grabbed his brown, wavy hair with a hand. He did this whenever he was thinking.

‘They’re following us,’ he said.

‘But how can they do that?’ Martha gasped, joining the Doctor at the monitor. ‘You’ve got a time machine. It’s impossible.’

‘Stolen technology,’ the Doctor answered, dashing around the console again. ‘They’ve got a Time Agents vortex manipulator. Well they would, wouldn’t they? He’s always losing it.’

The Doctor stopped in his tracks. The horrible truth dawned on him.

‘They can follow us wherever we go. They’re never gonna stop.’

Martha didn’t know the Doctor especially well, she’d only been travelling with him for a short while, but she knew this was serious. The Doctor was showing an emotion she’d never witnessed before: fear. He was afraid.

‘I’m going to have to do it,’ he was muttering to himself. ‘I’ve got no choice.’

The Doctor turned to face Martha, his face had never looked so serious. ‘I have to do it. Martha, you trust me don’t you?’

‘Course I do,’ Martha answered, shakily. The Doctor was scaring her. They were out of their depth already, she thought.

Suddenly Martha saw something lower down from above them. It looked like some sort of science fiction helmet. Before she could take a closer look, the Doctor appeared in front of her again, blocking her view.

‘It all depends on you.’

‘What does?’ She was confused. ‘What am I supposed to do?’

The Doctor pulled an ornamental pocket watch out from nowhere and held it in front of her face.

‘Take this watch, Martha. My life depends on it. This watch, Martha, this watch is…’

The Doctor woke up with a gasp. Another nightmare. He was lying in bed wearing a pair of blue and white stripped pyjamas. Except this wasn’t the Doctor at all, this man is Mr. John Smith, a teacher at the Farringham School for boys.

He rose out of bed, wiped the dust out of his eyes and glanced around at his surroundings. He was in an old fashioned wood panelled room. A mahogany desk sat in the centre, filled with essays. Butterflies were pinned to the wall to study. Clearly a man of science and this was where he worked. He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

‘Come in,’ he called.

A maid came in, dressed in black uniform with a white apron and hat, carrying a pot of tea on a tray. It was Martha Jones!

‘Oh, pardon me, Mr. Smith,’ she said, embarrassed. ‘You’re not dressed yet. I’ll come back later.’

She turned to go, before Mr. Smith stopped her, giving her permission to enter his dormitory as he slipped into a red chequered dressing gown. Martha entered further into the room, balancing the tray as she did so.

‘I was, um..,’ began Mr. Smith. He seemed lost, still half asleep. ‘Sorry. Sometimes I have these extraordinary dreams.’

‘What about, Sir?’ Martha asked, busying herself by opening the curtains behind him.

‘I dream I’m this…,’ he struggled, searching for the right word. ‘Adventurer! This daredevil, a madman! The Doctor. And last night I dreamt that you were there as my companion.’

‘The teacher and the housemaid, Sir?’ Martha laughed. ‘That’s impossible.’

‘Ah, yes, but I’m a man from another world,’ he countered. It was incredible. He looked exactly like the Doctor and yet his voice belonged to a complete stranger.

‘Well, it can’t be true, because there’s no such thing,’ Martha was trying to bring Mr. Smith back to reality, as she proudly made his bed.

Mr. Smith suddenly spotted his ornamental pocket watch on the mantelpiece behind his desk. The same watch the Doctor was holding inside the TARDIS. He walked over and picked it up, rolling it around in his hand.

‘And this thing. The watch,’ he was struggling for the right memory. Martha stopped her daily tasks and looked up, interested for the first time. He dropped the watch back down, like it was worthless. ‘It’s funny how dreams slip away. But I do remember one thing; it all took place in the future. In the year of our Lord two-thousand and seven.’

‘Well I can prove that wrong for you. Here’s the morning paper. It’s Monday, November the tenth, nineteen thirteen and you’re completely human, Sir,’ the words slowed down, as Martha handed him the Examiner newspaper, almost soundeding upset. ‘As human as they come.’

‘Mmm, that’s me,’ Mr. Smith smiled as he read the front page. ‘Completely human.’