Doctor Who_ Winner Takes All Part 3

'Or,' said the Doctor, who had wandered round the other side of the booth and was beckoning to her, 'they were worried we were trying to sneak in, so sent her out the back door.'

He took his sonic screwdriver from his pocket. 'Let's see what their defences are made of,' he said.

Rose was darting anxious glances up and down the street. 'We are being a bit obvious here,' she said. 'Couldn't we just try to win something instead?'

The Doctor was holding the sonic screwdriver in front of the little panel. The screwdriver was buzzing away, but the light remained obstinately red.

'Oh, all right,' he said, putting it back in his leather jacket. 'This doesn't seem to want to open. Which hints at alien involvement, yeah,' he added to her unspoken question.

It was easy to find a shop that carried the promotion: it'd have been harder to find one that didn't. The Doctor bought a toothbrush. Rose bought a bar of chocolate. They rejoined forces to compare scratchcards.

'"Sorry, you've not won this time! Please try again!"' she said.

'Yeah, me too,' said the Doctor, taking the losing card from her and putting both of them in a coat pocket. 'Shall we try again?'

'OK,' she said. 'But can we go into another shop? It's embarra.s.sing if we keep buying bits. Everyone'll know we just want to win something.'

'Cos it'd be awful if we got a bit embarra.s.sed while we were saving the world,' he said. 'Can put you right off doing good, that can.'

She accepted the criticism, but remained adamant. It was easier to do stuff like that on s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps, or in the past, or whatever, because somehow you didn't mind what people thought of you as much. Like how on holiday you'd wear the sombrero and the novelty T-s.h.i.+rt that you'd never be seen dead in down the youth club. So they went to the shop next door. The Doctor bought a pad of Post*it notes. Rose bought a biro. Sorry, you've not won this time! Please try again! Sorry, you've not won this time! Please try again!

In the next shop, Rose bought a can of drink. The Doctor, obviously tiring of the pursuit, rooted out a load of change and bought seventeen copies of the same newspaper, one at a time.

They stood outside the door, both scratching away at the silver covering on the cards, the Doctor occasionally handing out newspapers to pa.s.sers*by. Not a single card was a winner, and they were running low on cash.

'I've got an idea,' said Rose suddenly. 'You know how these might be aliens, right?'

'Uh*huh.'

'So, their technology's going to be alien technology. If you got hold of one of those games consoles and took it apart...'

'Brilliant!' he said. 'It might give us an idea of what they're up to an' all.'

'Back to Mickey's then?'

He nodded. 'Yeah. You still got the teabags?'

She grinned. 'Yeah. Have we got enough money for another pint of milk, though?'

There was just enough left, so Rose popped back into the newsagent's. The man behind the counter handed her a scratchcard, which stupidly took her by surprise, because this was actually shopping they wanted. This is it, she thought. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. When you're waiting, hoping, desperate to win, you never do. But then, out of the blue, you get another chance. And that's the one. That's how it works. She beamed to herself, imagining the Doctor's face when he saw her waving the winning card in triumph, and scratched off the silver with a fingernail. When you're waiting, hoping, desperate to win, you never do. But then, out of the blue, you get another chance. And that's the one. That's how it works. She beamed to herself, imagining the Doctor's face when he saw her waving the winning card in triumph, and scratched off the silver with a fingernail.

Underneath, it read, 'Sorry, you've not won this time! Please try again!'

FIVE.

The Doctor and Rose caught the bus back to the estate, and made their way to Mickey's flat. Rose didn't realise that something was wrong, not at first.

'Did you leave the door open when you left?' she said to the Doctor.

He shook his head, and he suddenly looked concerned. He went inside, peering here, there and everywhere. Rose followed him. The flat was empty. In the lounge, the games console lay on the table, and the telly was still switched on. On the floor was a half*eaten pickled onion, toothmarks clearly visible in it.

'Someone kicked in the door and caught him by surprise,' the Doctor said. He darted back outside the front door. 'Look at this,' he called. Rose followed him out, and he pushed the door to, pointing at scratches on its lower panel.

'Um...' she said.

'Claw marks,' he said. 'Whoever kicked open this door had clawed feet.'

'Like Percy the Porcupine?' she said.

'Exactly like Percy the Porcupine,' said the Doctor.

They went back inside the flat, the Doctor closing the door behind them. 'Amazed his telly's still here, if the door's been open long,' he said.

'Hey,' said Rose, offended. 'You don't live here. You're not allowed to say things like that.'

'Is that how it works then?'

She nodded, sitting down on a chair and surveying the room for clues. 'Yeah. Like how I'd have a go at anyone who called you a c.o.c.ky know*it*all who never listens to a word I say, but I'm...'

She broke off. The Doctor wasn't listening to her. He'd picked up the abandoned games console, and was prising off the back. He started poking around inside. 'Definitely alien,' he said. 'Bother.'

'Not just really advanced human?'

He shook his head. 'Nope.'

'D'you reckon they've gone around kidnapping anyone who's got one?'

He shook his head. 'There must be loads of the things out there. I think someone would've noticed. And what would be the point of that? No, they've taken Mickey for a reason. And I'd say it was fairly obvious what that reason was.'

Rose thought for a moment, leaning forward in concentration. 'For you, maybe, alien big*brain... It's gotta be something to do with this game... But Mickey'd been playing it for a bit with nothing happening...' She suddenly thumped the arm of the chair as realisation struck. 'And then you came along, and beat his score, and if I know you, probably the scores of everyone else who's ever played it in, like, two minutes. And they're monitoring the scores somehow so they send out troops to find this genius and carry him off. But they got Mickey instead. Right?'

The Doctor was now putting the games console back together. 'You get there in the end,' he said, giving her a grin. 'You'd have thought the moment they saw the lack of intelligence in his eyes they'd have realised he wasn't the one they wanted, though.'

Rose frowned. 'Like I was saying, you don't get to say stuff like that. Anyway, he's not thick. He's got GCSEs.'

'I apologise,' said the Doctor, smiling, not looking sorry in the slightest.

She decided to leave it. 'Well, anyway, what do they want with him with you? Has this all been some sort of bizarre alien intelligence test? Like they're looking for the most intelligent people and then they kidnap them to drain their brains?'

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, and she almost shouted, 'Don't you say a word! You dare make a comment about Mickey's brain when it might be being sucked out by an alien right now!'

He'd shut his mouth at her yell, but opened it again now. 'Could be that. But it's a bit of a random way of going about it. I wouldn't worry. He's probably fine.'

She was almost comforted. 'Really?'

He looked sincere. 'Yeah. Really.' A pause. 'Well, probably. Tell you what, shall we go and rescue him?' He glanced at the LCD clock on the front of Mickey's video recorder. 'Still plenty of time before tea.'

She threw an 'I don't believe it' look at the ceiling. 'Well, yeah. I pretty much a.s.sumed we'd be going to rescue him.'

The Doctor plonked himself down on the other chair. 'All right then. I mean, I'm not saying I'll miss him now he's gone or anything. But I'd rather he didn't get kidnapped by aliens on my watch, you know?'

She nodded, biting back a remark. She still could never tell if he was pretending not to care, some dry humour sort of thing, or if he really didn't care. And on the whole, she thought it was probably better in the short term if she didn't find out one way or the other.

The Doctor didn't seem to be doing anything, though. She waited for a moment, and then said, 'Well? Thunderbirds are go, or what?'

'Or what,' he said. 'Or did you get a Brownie badge in porcupine tracking?'

She glared at him. 'It can't be that hard. Someone'll have noticed a giant porcupine walking about the place carrying someone in its arms, or whatever.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Nah,' he said. 'Have a sniff.' She did so, and as she breathed in a sneeze took her by surprise.

'Ooh,' she said. 'Better make a wish.'

'How about, "I wish I knew where Mickey had been teleported to"?' the Doctor suggested.

'Teleport?' she said. 'How can you tell?'

'Leaves a distinctive tingle in the air, teleportation,' the Doctor said. 'And means our porcupines are fairly technologically advanced an' all.'

She s.h.i.+vered, thinking of Mickey's atoms being broken down and zapped through the air. 'You've managed to reverse teleportation before,' she said, thinking back to one of their previous adventures.

'Yeah, if I was at the other end where the controls are,' he said. 'Sorry, no can do here. No, there's only one thing for it.' He grinned, and picked up the games console. 'Time to go fis.h.i.+ng.'

It took her a moment, but she got it in the end. 'You're going to act as bait. You're going to play the game and hope they come and get you too.'

'Yup.' He pressed a b.u.t.ton on the console. The legend 'Introduction' appeared on the screen, and the Doctor grimaced. 'Right back to the beginning.'

'At least you don't have to do the training level,' Rose said. 'Anyway, we might learn something.'

Dancing cartoon porcupines s.h.i.+mmied across the TV screen, eventually drawing back to reveal a grainy image of what Rose now knew to be the real aliens.

'Yeah, s'pose you're right,' said the Doctor, selecting an on*screen option.

A graphic flashed, and the introduction began.

There were a group of porcupine*aliens sitting round a table. It looked like a council of war.

'Fellow Quevvils,' said a porcupine who had salt*and*pepper facial hair and long quills curving back off his head like a deadly teddy boy, 'we meet to discuss the threat of the evil Mantodeans.' The picture cut to footage of the giant praying mantises, then back to the Quevvils at their table.

'But what can we do, Frinel?' said another of the aliens. 'We are at a stalemate! We cannot hurt the Mantodeans, and they cannot hurt us!'

Now it cut to a cartoon showing a Mantodean trying to fix its jaws round a Quevvil's thick, spiny neck, and finally giving up with a shrug of its feelers. Another cartoon showed a Quevvil shooting a barrage of quills at a Mantodean, only for them to bounce off the insectoid's tough exoskeleton.

'Looks as if nature had the right idea,' said the Doctor in an aside to Rose. 'Two species that could live together in harmony.' He snorted. 'Like that's ever going to happen anywhere in the universe.'

Back at the table, another Quevvil continued, 'We have tried to infiltrate the Mantodean stronghold.'

Cut to a structure rather like one of the great pyramids, only without the point. Mantodeans, dwarfed in comparison, scuttled in and out of the hundreds of doors around its base. The building seemed to be in the middle of a sandy nowhere.

'Looks like a desert planet,' said the Doctor to Rose. 'Porcupines and praying mantises are found in deserts on Earth. It'd make sense for creatures like that to have evolved there.'

'Really?' she said. 'Is that how the universe works?'

'Oh yeah,' he said.

'But the catacombs within are not fit for our impressive bulk,' continued the Quevvil, 'And the Mantodeans have seeded their stronghold with fiendish traps.'

The Quevvil called Frinel narrowed his watery pink eyes, showing his disdain for those who set fiendish traps. 'Which is why we turned to technology to defeat our foes, developing the extremely clever science of teleportation, to enable us to reach the very centre of the Mantodean stronghold, defeat the enemy, and incidentally provide access to the valuable mineral deposits below.'

'Aha,' said the Doctor. 'Look for the money, they always say.'

'But the dishonourable Mantodeans have turned to technology also,' said Frinel, snarling and showing stumpy but fearsome*looking yellow teeth.

'Porcupines are vegetarians, right?' said Rose, a bit nervously.

'They have protected their stronghold with a force field. It prevents teleportation! And worse, it is tuned in to Quevvil biology!'

A cartoon showed a Quevvil trying to run into the pyramid. With a sizzling sound and a lot of jagged lines, it was clearly fried.

'This is terrible!' cried one of the Quevvils at the council of war. 'What can we do?'

'I have had an idea,' said Frinel. 'We will scour the universe for aliens of great cunning and ingenuity. They will come to Toop and infiltrate the Mantodean stronghold for us. They will evade the traps, and get to the centre. And there they will place this.' He held up a s.h.i.+ny metal cube. 'This is the disruptor developed by our scientists. When placed within close range of the Mantodeans' computer banks it will disrupt all their technology, taking down the force field and allowing us to teleport in to victory!'

'But where will we find such beings?' asked a Quevvil.

Another Quevvil came running up to the table. 'Frinel! Fellow Quevvils! I have found a planet within range of our teleporters, where the inhabitants are warlike and possessed of great guile.'

'And what is this planet?' said Frinel.

The screen cut to an image of a very familiar blue and green globe.

'It is... the Earth!' said the Quevvil.

'Now there's a turn*up for the books,' said the Doctor to Rose.

There was a whirring noise and a jump in the image, and suddenly they were with another Quevvil. A counter in the top right corner read '0'.

'Starting the game proper,' said the Doctor.

'Thank you for rising to the challenge, human,' said the Quevvil, holding out a disruptor. The Doctor pressed b.u.t.tons, and the Quevvil took back its hands, now empty. In the bottom of the screen, a little icon appeared, labelled 'Disruptor: primed'. Then the Quevvil moved aside, revealing a window beyond which was a stretch of desert. In the distance was the enormous truncated pyramid of the Mantodean stronghold. 'The fate of our race is in your hands,' the Quevvil said, pulling a lever on the wall. The image s.h.i.+mmered, and suddenly they were looking at a completely different wall, containing a door. As the Doctor manipulated the controls, their point of view moved forward, towards the door.

'Nice when the villains present you with their whole plan in semi*animated form,' said the Doctor. 'Saves you having to be tied up and about to die before they'll reveal anything.'