'Don't be silly, Susan. The United States and most European countries have a decimal system, but you know perfectly well we do not.'
Susan frowned for a moment then said, 'Of course, the decimal system hasn't started yet. You'll change over in a few years' time!'
Ian looked at Barbara in astonishment. 'Decimal system, in England? That'll be the day! I suppose she could be a foreigner. There's something about the way she talks...'
'Oh, come on, Ian, admit it. It just doesn't make sense.'
'No, it doesn't,' Ian agreed. 'Nothing about that girl makes sense. You know, the other day I was talking about chemical changes. I'd given out litmus paper to show cause and effect.'
'I suppose she knew the answer before you'd even started?'
'Yes, but it was more than that. The answer simply didn't interest her.'
Ian could see Susan now, looking impatiently up at him. 'Yes, I can see red turns to blue, Mr Chesterton, but that's because we're dealing with two inactive chemicals. They only act in relation to each other.'
'That's the whole point of the experiment, Susan.'
'Yes, I know, Mr Chesterton. But... well, it's a bit obvious, isn't it? I mean, I'm not trying to be rude, but couldn't we deal with two active chemicals. Then red could turn to blue all by itself, while we all got on with something more interesting.' She sighed. 'I'm sorry, it was just an idea.'
Returning to the present, Ian said. 'She meant it, too, Barbara. These simple experiments are just child's play to her. It's maddening.'
'I know how you feel. It's got to the point where I want to trip her up deliberately!'
'Something else happened in maths the other day,' said Ian suddenly. 'I'd set the class a problem, an equation using A, B, and C as the three dimensions...'
Ian's mind went back to the scene in the classroom. Susan had been standing at the blackboard, studying the equation. 'It's impossible to do it using just A, B and C,' she'd protested. 'You have to use D and E as well.'
'D and E? Whatever for? Do the problem that's set, Susan.'
There had been something like desperation in Susan's voice. 'I can't, Mr Chesterton. You simply can't work using only three of the dimensions.'
'Three dimensions? Oh, the fourth being Time, I suppose. What do you need your E for? What do you make the fifth dimension?'
'Space,' said Susan simply.
When he'd finished telling her of the incident, Ian looked despairingly at Barbara. 'Somehow I got the impression that she thinks of Time and Space as being much the same kind of thing - as if you could travel in one just as well as in the other!'
'Too many questions, Ian, and not enough answers.'
'So,' said Ian summing up. 'We have a fifteen-year-old girl who's absolutely brilliant at some things and excruciatingly bad at others...'
Barbara touched his arm. 'And here she is!'
Outside the junk yard, Susan came hurrying along the street. She paused for a moment, looked round, pushed open the small entry-gate and disappeared inside.
'Hadn't we better go in, Ian? I hate to think of her in that place alone.'
'If she is alone!'
'What do you mean?'
'Look, she's fifteen, remember. She might be meeting a boyfriend. Didn't that occur to you?'
Barbara laughed. 'I almost hope she is, it would be so wonderfully normal.' She looked uneasily across at the junk yard. 'I know it's silly, but I feel almost frightened. As if we're about to interfere in something that's best left alone.'
Ian Chesterton fished a torch out of the glove compartment and opened the car door. 'Come on, Barbara, let's get it over with!'
They got out of the car and crossed the road to the junk yard gates.
Barbara hesitated for a moment. 'Don't you feel something?'
'I take things as they come,' said Ian cheerfully. 'Come on.'
He pushed open the little gate and they went inside.
Even in the semi-darkness, they could see that the tiny yard was so cluttered there was scarcely room to move.
Ian shone his torch around them. He jumped as the torch beam picked out what seemed to be a human body, but it was only an old shop-window dummy with a shattered head.
'What a mess!' muttered Ian. 'I'm not turning over this lot to find her!'
He took a few paces forward and stepped on a piece of loose rubble. His foot twisted under him, he staggered to keep his balance, and the torch shot from his hand. It went out as it hit the ground and rolled away somewhere out of sight.
'Blast!' said Ian savagely, 'I've dropped the wretched torch!'
'Use a match then.'
'Haven't got any matches. Oh well, never mind.'
Slowly their eyes adjusted to the darkness, and they began moving cautiously around the little yard.
'Susan?' called Barbara. 'Susan, are you there?'
No answer.
'Susan, it's Mr Chesterton and Miss Wright,' shouted Ian. 'Susan!' There was still no reply. Ian peered round in the gloom. 'She can't have gone far, the place is too small. And she hasn't left the yard or we'd have seen her.'
Barbara moved forward, and something square and solid loomed up out of the darkness in front of her. 'Ian, look at this.'
'It's a police box! What's it doing here? They usually stand on street corners.' He reached out and patted the police box. 'Seems solid enough.' He tried to push the door open and snatched his hand away.
'What's the matter, Ian?'
'Feel it.'
Hesitantly, Barbara put her hand to the police box door. She, too, pulled it hurriedly back. 'There's a kind of faint vibration.'
Ian nodded. 'It feels - alive...' He walked all the way round the police box, reappearing at the front. 'Well, it's not connected to anything - unless it's through the floor.'
Barbara backed away. For some reason the police box made her feel uneasy. 'Look, I've had enough of this. Let's go and find a policeman, tell him we think Susan's missing. They can organise a proper search.'
'All right.' Ian paused as he heard the gate creak open. There was the sound of coughing. 'Someone's there!'
'Is it Susan?'
Ian could just make out a cloaked figure advancing through the gloom. 'No, it isn't. Quick, behind here.' He dragged her behind a pile of old furniture, and they ducked down out of sight.
The dark shape came nearer, and revealed itself as a white-haired old man wrapped in some kind of cloak. He wore an oddly shaped fur hat, and a long striped scarf was wound around his neck. The old man paused for a moment, coughing as old people do, and patted himself on the chest. He seemed to be muttering... He went up to the police box, fished a key from out of his pocket and opened the door.
To the astonishment of the two watchers, a girl's voice came from inside the police box. 'There you are, grandfather!'
'It's Susan!'
'Ssh!' said Ian warningly, but it was too late. The old man had heard them. He slammed the door of the police box and whirled around.
Deciding he might as well make the best of it, Ian rose to his feet. 'Excuse me.'
The old man looked at him in mild surprise. 'What are you doing here?'
'We're looking for a girl...'
'We?'
Barbara, too, emerged from her hiding place. 'Good evening.'
The old man studied them for a moment. His face was old and lined, yet somehow alert and vital at the same time. His eyes seemed to blaze with a fierce intelligence, and a commanding beak of a nose gave his features an arrogant, aristocratic air. 'What do you want?'
'We're looking for one of our pupils,' said Ian rather lamely. 'A girl called Susan Foreman. She came into this yard.'
'Really? In here? Are you sure?' There was a sort of condescending scepticism in the old man's voice, like that of someone talking to an imaginative child.
'Yes, we're sure,' said Barbara firmly. 'We saw her - from across the street.'
'One of their pupils,' muttered the old man to himself. 'Not the police, then.'
> Ian was alarmed by the half-heard words. Why was the old man worried about the police? 'I beg your pardon?'
'Why were you spying on her? Who are you?'
Ian realised he was being put on the defensive. Somehow it was as if he was the one who had to explain his actions.
'We heard a young girl's voice call out to you -'
'Your hearing must be very acute. I didn't hear anything.'
Barbara pointed to the police box. 'Well, we did. And it came from in there.'
'You imagined it.'
Barbara could feel herself getting angry. 'I most certainly did not imagine it!'
As if deciding Barbara was beyond reason, the old man turned to Ian. 'Now I ask you, young man,' he said smoothly, 'is it reasonable to suppose that anyone would be inside a cupboard like that?'
Ian's tone was equally calm. 'Would it therefore be unreasonable to ask you to let us have a look inside?'
The old man seemed astonished at the suggestion. He picked up an old painting, and studied it absorbedly. 'I wonder why I've never seen that before. Now, isn't that strange? It's very damp and dirty.'
'Won't you help us?' pleaded Barbara. 'We're two of her teachers - she's at Coal Hill School. We saw her come in and we haven't seen her leave. Naturally, we're very worried.'
The old man was still peering at the painting. 'It really ought to be cleaned...' He looked up at Barbara. 'Oh, I'm afraid all this is none of my business. I suggest you leave.'
'Not until we're satisfied that Susan isn't here,' said Ian angrily. 'Frankly, I just don't understand your attitude.'
'Indeed? Well, your own leaves a lot to be desired, young man.'
'Will you open that door?'
The old man turned away dismissively. 'There's nothing in there.'
'Then why are you afraid to show us?'
'Afraid!' said the old man scornfully. 'Oh - go away!' He spoke like someone dismissing a child whose antics have finally become tiresome.
'Come on, Barbara, I think we'd better go and fetch a policeman.'
Barbara nodded, watching the old man to see the effect of the threat.
He shrugged. 'Very well. Do as you please.'
'And you're coming with us,' said Ian in exasperation.
The old man smiled. 'Oh, am I? I don't think so, young man. Oh no, I don't think so.'
He sat down on a broken-backed chair and picked up the painting again, studying it thoughtfully.
Stalemate.
Barbara looked helplessly at Ian. 'We can't force him.'
'We can't leave him here, either. Isn't it obvious? He's got her locked up in there.'
They moved closer to the police box. 'Try the door,' suggested Barbara. 'Maybe you can force it.'
Ian examined the lock. He thumped the door, but it was solidly locked. 'There's no proper handle - must be some kind of secret lock.'
'But that was Susan's voice - wasn't it?'
'Of course, it was.'
Ian rapped hard on the door with his knuckles. 'Susan! Susan, are you in there? It's Mr Chester-ton and Miss Wright.'
Ian's banging on the police box seemed to annoy the strange old man. Abandoning his attempt to appear uninterested, he rose and came towards them. 'Aren't you being rather high-handed, young man? You thought you saw a young girl enter the yard. You imagine you heard her voice. You believe she might be hidden inside there? It's not very substantial, is it?'
His words seemed to drain away Ian's confidence, leaving him wondering if he hadn't imagined the whole thing.
Barbara was not to be put off. 'But why won't you help us?'
'I'm not hindering you. If you're both determined to make fools of yourselves, I suggest you carry out your threat. Go and find a policeman.'
Ian said sceptically, 'While you nip off quietly in the other direction, I suppose?'
'There's no need to be insulting, young man,' said the old man loftily. 'There's only one way in and out of this yard. One of you can wait outside and watch the gates. I shall be here when you get back. I want to see your faces when you try to explain your behaviour to a policeman.'
'All right, that is what we'll do,' said Ian defiantly. 'Come on, Barbara, you can watch from the car, while I go and find a policeman.'
They were about to move away when the door to the police box was opened from the inside.
Susan's voice called, 'What are you doing out there, grandfather?'
The old man sprang towards the police box with tigerish speed. 'Close the door!' he shouted. He grabbed the door, obviously intending to slam it again, but Ian was too quick for him, and grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away. Despite his age, the old man was amazingly strong, and he almost succeeded in throwing Ian off. Barbara came and joined in, and somehow, struggling wildly, Ian and Barbara stumbled into the police box - and straight into sheer impossibility.
3
The TARDIS
Barbara Wright and Ian Chesterton stood gazing around them in disbelief, their brains refusing to take in the evidence of their eyes and ears.
They should have been inside an enclosed cupboard-sized space - but they were not. Instead, they stood inside a large, brightly lit control room. It was dominated by a many-sided central structure which seemed to consist of a number of instrument banks arranged round a transparent central column packed with complex machinery. Strangest of all were the incongruous objects dotted about here and there. They included a number of old-fashioned chairs and the statue of some kind of bird on top of a tall column. Beside it stood Susan, looking at them in utter amazement.
Ian blinked incredulously, his mind filled with a wrenching sense of unreality. He heard the old man say calmly, 'Close the door, Susan.'
Susan touched a control on the central console, and the door closed with an eerie electronic hum.
The old man took off his cloak and hat, and tossed them onto a chair. The clothes beneath were even more eccentric (check trousers with old-fashioned boots, and a kind of frock-coat worn with a cravat and a high-wing collar). The general effect was that of a family solicitor from some nineteenth-century novel. Like the statue and the padded chairs, the old man looked strangely out of place in this ultra-technological setting.
But he was obviously quite at home here. Rubbing his bony hands together, he looked disapprovingly at the two intruders. 'I believe these people are known to you, Susan?'
'They're two of my school teachers.' Susan seemed almost as astonished as Barbara and Ian. 'What are you doing here?'
'Presumably they followed you,' said the Doctor acidly. 'That ridiculous school! I knew something like this would happen if we stayed in one place too long.'
'But why should they follow me?'
'Ask them,' said the old man. He turned away to study a row of instruments on the central console.
Barbara looked around the astounding room, and then back at Susan. 'Is this place really your home, Susan?'
'Yes... well, at least, it's the only home I have now.'
The old man looked up. 'And what's wrong with it?'
Ian rubbed his eyes and blinked - but nothing changed. 'But it was just a police box.'
The old man smiled. 'To you, perhaps,' he said condescendingly.
Barbara said, 'And this is your grandfather?'
'Yes.'
Barbara turned to the old man. 'So you must be Doctor Foreman?'
The old man smiled. 'Not really. The name was on the notice-board, and I borrowed it. It might be best if you were to address me simply as Doctor.'
'Very well, then - Doctor. Why didn't you tell us who you were?'
'I don't discuss my private life with strangers,' said the Doctor haughtily.
Ian was still struggling to understand the central mystery. 'But it was just a police box! I walked all round it. Barbara, you saw me. How come it's bigger on the inside than on the outside?'
'You don't deserve any explanations,' said the Doctor pettishly. 'You pushed your way in here, uninvited and unwelcome...'
The Doctor was fiddling with one of the controls. 'Look at this, Susan,' he said querulously. 'It's stopped again. I've tried to repair it, but...' He broke off, shooting a malicious glance at Ian. 'No, of course, you don't understand. How could you?'
'But I want to understand,' shouted Ian.
The Doctor waved him away. 'Yes, yes... By the way, Susan, I managed to find a replacement for that portofilio. It was quite a job, but I think it'll serve...'
Ian pounded his fists against the walls of the room. 'It's an illusion, it must be.'
The Doctor sighed. 'What is he talking about now?'
'Ian, what are you doing?' whispered Barbara.
'I don't know,' said Ian helplessly.
The Doctor smiled maliciously at Ian's confusion. 'You don't understand, so you find excuses for yourself. Illusion, indeed! See here, young man. You say you can't fit a large space inside a small one? So you couldn't fit an enormous building into a little room?'
'No,' said Ian. 'No, you couldn't.'
'But you've invented television by now, haven't you?' said the Doctor.
'Yes.'
'So - by showing an enormous building on your television screen, you can do something you said was humanly impossible, can't you?'
'Well, yes, in a sense,' said Ian doubtfully. 'But all the same...'
The old man cackled triumphantly. 'Not quite clear, is it? I can see by your face that you're not certain, you don't understand. I knew you wouldn't. Never mind!' The Doctor seemed positively delighted by Ian's lack of comprehension. He fiddled with the control console, muttering to himself. 'Now, which switch was it? This one - no, this one.' He looked up at Ian and Barbara. 'The point is not so much whether you understand what has already happened to you, it's what's going to happen to you. You could tell everyone about the ship - and we can't have that.
'Ship?' asked Ian, more confused than ever.
'Yes, ship,' said the Doctor sharply. 'This thing doesn't roll along on wheels, you know.'
'You mean it moves?' asked Barbara.
Susan nodded proudly. 'The TARDIS can go anywhere in Time and Space.'
DOCTOR WHO AND AN UNEARTHLY CHILD Page 2