Chapter 10

THE PROFESSOR WAS stalling.

‘A rather special book?’ the Doctor prompted him again.

‘Rather special? Did I say rather special?’ The Professor blinked. ‘No, it’s very special. A very special book.’

‘Special in what way?’ asked Romana.

‘Award-winning? Critically acclaimed? Made out of jelly?’ the Doctor suggested, increasingly desperately.

‘No, not very special in that way,’ fudged the Professor. ‘Though I did once have a book made out of jelly, or was it about jelly, I forget…’

The Doctor looked as if he was building up to that explosion again. Romana gulped – and then her head was suddenly occupied by something else entirely. The thin, distorted babble of inhuman voices, much fainter this time. They were gone in a second.

‘Did you just hear voices?’ said the Professor, blinking.

The Doctor nodded. ‘I just heard voices. Romana, did you just hear voices?’ He wheeled on the Professor. ‘Are those voices anything to do with this very special book, Professor?’

The Professor thought for a moment, then shook his head categorically. ‘What? Oh no, no, no. No no no, no no no.’ Talking into his shirt collar and avoiding their eyes, he added casually, ‘That’s just a book I accidentally brought back with me from Gallifrey. More tea, everybody?’

He shuffled towards the kitchen but the Doctor blocked his path. ‘From Gallifrey? From Gallifrey?

‘Is that what I said, yes I suppose it was, yes I suppose it was.’

‘Was what?’

‘From Gallifrey. Rather a charming place, if a little static and futile, either of you two ever been there, worth a visit I suppose.’ He looked at their shocked faces. ‘Oh yes, of course, I suppose you must have, we were going to have tea, weren’t we?’

This time Romana blocked his path. ‘From Gallifrey? You brought a book from Gallifrey to Cambridge?’

The Professor nodded. ‘Yes, just a few old knick-knacks, you know. And you know how I love my books, Doctor.’

‘Professor, you just said that you brought it back by accident,’ the Doctor reminded him.

‘Ah yes, an oversight.’ He mumbled into his collar again, very quickly, ‘I overlooked the fact that I decided to bring it…’

The Doctor and Romana exchanged a worried glance. Earth might be a very nice place to while away the odd afternoon, and this one was already turning out to be a very odd afternoon, but it was, nonetheless, at this stage in its history a level five civilisation with all the savagery and stupidity that implied. If an Earth warlord got his hands on an alien book that might refer, even casually, to the secrets of trans-dimensional engineering or warp-matrix astrogation or remote stellar manipulation, the planet might end up a charred cinder on which it would impossible to while away any kind of afternoon.

‘It was just for study, you know,’ said the Professor, avoiding their gaze. ‘Handy for reference.’ He sighed and turned his head a little sadly. ‘But as I’m now getting very old – very, very old – I thought that perhaps…’ He let his sentence trail off suggestively and finally looked up over his half-moons at the Doctor, shamefaced.

‘That perhaps I’d take it back to Gallifrey for you,’ said the Doctor.

‘Well,’ said the Professor, ‘now that I’m retired I’m not allowed to have a TARDIS.’

He turned his sad old eyes to Romana. She couldn’t help but be moved. He seemed such a nice old man.

The Doctor looked less forgiving. ‘Professor, I don’t want to be critical. But I will be. It’s very risky, bringing a book back from Gallifrey. It could be terribly dangerous in the wrong hands!’