Until We Burn | Dr Who

Chapter Eighty-Eight: Silence in the Library

"Books! People never really stop loving books."

Beaming as the Doctor lands the Tardis, I help him into his coat. We walk out, hand in hand, into a vast entrance hall of polished wood. Sunlight streams through high windows like spotlights.

"Fifty-first century," he explains as Donna hurries after us. "By now, you've got holovids, direct-to-brain downloads, fiction mist, but you need the smell. The smell of books, Donna. Deep breath."

Through a set of double doors lies a hallway of white pillars and marble flagstones. It appears far more like a museum or a palace with its stone benches and bronze busts mounted on columns by each threshold.

"The Library. So big it doesn't need a name, just a great big 'the'."

Beyond a balcony at the end of the corridor, an expanse of towers and spires scrape the white sky, each block connected by suspended monorails. "It's like a city!" Donna marvels.

"It's a world. Literally a world. The whole core of the planet is the index computer, biggest hard drive ever. And up here, every book ever written. Whole continents of Jeffrey Archer, Bridget Jones, Monty Python's Big Red Book. Brand new editions, specially printed."

Keeping my arm linked with his, I watch as he leans over the balcony, admiring the jumbled rooftops below. He hesitates when he feels me watching and meets my gaze. I smile. He smiles back, shy as a schoolboy with his first crush.

Donna clears her throat.

We quickly return our focus to the world around us. "Um, we're near the equator, so—" he licks the tip of his finger and holds it up "—this must be Biographies! I love biographies."

Wincing at his loud outburst, she mutters, "Yeah, very you. Always a death at the end."

"You need a good death. Without death, there'd only be comedies. Dying gives us size."

I give him a playful roll of my eyes. "Always the poet."

He starts to reply but quickly has to reach around, snatching a book out of Donna's hands. "Oi! Spoilers."

"What?"

"These books are from your future. You don't wanna read ahead — spoil all the surprises. Like peeking at the end."

Raising an eyebrow, I pick up another book, turning it over to look at the cover. "Oh, I always do that."

He frowns. "Do what?" Seeing me flick open to the back page for emphasis, he confiscates it and gasps, "You peek at the end? But— But— But that's... cheating!"

"It's just a book," I tease. "Thought you would've noticed by now. Every time I read something new, first thing I do is go to the back, check the page number so I know how long I have left, and read the last few lines."

"But that's just ruining the ending for you," he tiredly points out, looking at me like I've grown a second head.

I discourage his judgement with a quick kiss of his cheek. "Doctor, I am literally here and not on my dying homeworld because of a prophecy. Doesn't get more spoiler-y than that. Knowing the ending doesn't ruin anything, it just means I pay more attention to the bits in between. It's like an equation. There's no use in knowing the output if you can't solve it."

Sticking her head around the Doctor to be seen by the both of us, Donna interrupts with a knowing look, "Sorry to interrupt this lovefest but, technically speaking, isn't travelling with you one big spoiler?"

Her question catches him out. "I try to keep you away from major plot developments. Which, to be honest, I seem to be very bad at, 'cause you know what? This is the biggest library in the universe. So where is everyone?"