Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Fifty: Daleks in Manhattan

We all freeze, gaping at the blonde woman standing across from us. She cocks the pistol, her crimson nails glistening under the harsh lighting. "Hands in the air! And no funny business."

A gun is quite hard to disagree with. We obey. I start to edge towards her but the Doctor puts a protective arm in front of me — more for her sake, I think, than mine.

"Now tell me, you schmucks. What have you done with Laszlo?"

Martha tilts her raised hands in a questioning gesture and asks, "Who's Laszlo?"

Her eyes narrow. She walks off with a slight sashay in her heeled steps and beckons for us to follow. Keeping the gun aimed at us, she sits at the flower-adorned dressing table of what I quickly realise is the backstage of a theatre. "Laszlo's my boyfriend — was my boyfriend, until he disappeared two weeks ago. No letter, no goodbye, no nothing. And I'm not stupid, I know some guys are just pigs, but not my Laszlo. I mean, what kind of guy asks you to meet his mom before he vamooses?"

Warily wagging a fingertip in her direction, the Doctor stammers, "It— It might just help if you put that down."

"Huh?" She glances at the weapon and rolls her eyes, tossing it onto a pouffe without bothering to put the safety switch back on. "Oh, sure." Seeing us flinch, she scoffs, "Oh, come on. It's not real, it's just a prop. It was either that or a spear."

"What do you think happened to Laszlo?" Martha enquires, shuffling past us into the doorway of the dressing room.

She checks her perfectly curled bob in the mirror and dabs at the edge of her eyeliner. "One minute he's there, the next — zip — vanished."

"Listen, um... what was your name?" the Doctor begins.

She smiles sweetly. "Tallulah."

"Tallulah—"

"Three 'l's and an 'h'."

"Right. Um, we can try and find Laszlo... but he's not the only one. There are people disappearing every night."

Solomon nods gravely. "And there are creatures. Such creatures."

Following his furtive gaze back to the sewer entrance, she smirks disbelievingly. "Whaddya mean, 'creatures'?"

"Look, listen, just trust me. Everyone is in danger. I need to find out exactly what this is." The Doctor fishes around in his pockets, producing the bioluminescent blob. "Because then I'll know exactly what we're fighting."

She scrunches her nose and recoils. "Yeich..."

—

The Doctor and Solomon disappear into the props storage room again. I want to follow but weariness convinces me to take a seat. Martha and I help Tallulah into her costume for the night's show. She shimmers under the warm light, the fake diamonds on her leotard, bracelets and necklace catching fire with every movement. An equally bedazzled tiara sits atop her platinum curls with a small halo fixed to its uppermost point.

"Laszlo," she sighs as she fixes her teardrop earrings, just the name setting her aglow, "he'd wait for me after the show, walk me home like I was a lady. He'd leave a flower for me on my dressing table. Every day, just a single rosebud."

Martha smiles but it is soon overshadowed by curiosity. "Haven't you reported him missing?"

"Sure, but he's just a stagehand. Who cares? The management certainly don't."

She nods, regarding the girl's beauty again in contemplation. "Can't you kick up a fuss or something?"

Tallulah rolls her eyes. "Okay, so then they fire me!"