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Ah, when to the heart of man

Was it ever less than a treason

To go with the drift of things,

To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end

Of a love or a season?


          Robert Frost (1874-1963)


No response.

‘Oi, Doctor!’

Rose Tyler called from across the TARDIS console, valiantly holding on to the padded railing that separated the control deck from a rather precipitous drop to the floor below. She found it odd that the Doctor never seemed to be too concerned with pitching over the side; then again, if he were actually 900 plus years old, as he seemed to imply, she assumed he was just used to the violent shuddering of his ship in flight.

‘A little busy now…hold on!’ he yelled. He had to yell, actually…the ship was making some decidedly strange noises as it shuddered to and fro as it made its way through the Time Vortex. That was what the Doctor called it…the Time Vortex. She almost hadn’t wanted to believe him, but after seeing shop mannequins come to life, followed by a trip to the year five billion, and then a side excursion to Cardiff in 1869 (the Doctor had promised her Naples and 1860, but meeting Charles Dickens, she thought, was a fair enough exchange for that little mishap)…well, she was willing to cut him a little slack.

The TARDIS finally seemed to settle down, and the Doctor slumped back in a seat across from his usual position at the controls. ‘So, what’s on your mind, Rose Tyler?’

Rose smiled as she walked around the console nearer where she stood. She noticed how his leather jacked bunched up and crinkled as he slouched in his seat. ‘You know, sitting like that’s bad for your posture.’

The Doctor scoffed. ‘You should see how you sit! Half the time I’m certain you’re going to slide right out of your seat!’

Rose tried to scowl at him, but failed miserably. ‘OK, fair point.’ She paused for a second, biting her lip. ‘So, anyway…where are we off to now?’

The Doctor smiled. ‘Where do you want to go? We’ve seen the past, we’ve seen the future…the whole universe is at my fingertips. Just say the word and we’ll be there.’

Rose looked at him, still not quite believing.


The Doctor nodded. ‘Anywhere.’

Rose tapped her cheek, deep in thought. ‘So if I said I wanted to go to a planet where dogs walked on two feet and talked…’


artwork by ANDY LAMBERT
used with permission
Welcome to inferno-fiction.co.uk.
Inferno Fiction is an on-line Doctor Who Fiction Fanzine. First created in the 80's when fanzines in the printed form were the norm, the fanzine has now leapt onto the world wide web and is enjoyed by many across the world!
The stories featured are from the original pages of the printed fanzine and now include a collection of new material.
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