Doctor Who: Mind and Body

Chapter 3: Night Trap

A sparse white room housed a long dining table of polished wood, upon which a sleeved arm deftly placed a ceramic dish before the Doctor. He looked up to deliver his thanks, but all he could make contact with was a pair of eyes - the surrounding face was obscured by a white cap and a paper surgical mask, matching the pristine buttoned kitchen uniform. Similar service was given to Amy and Rory, sitting to the Doctor's left, and to Joseph at his right, who could only look at the Doctor's plate in equal parts amusement and bewilderment.

"I must say, you're a man of unique tastes," he noted as a small dipping bowl filled with a bright creamy substance accompanied the main dish. "Fish fingers and..."

"Custard!" beamed the Doctor. He plunged a digit into the bowl and licked up a sample. "Just the right amount of yellow, too."

Rory's gaze was trained on the kitchen hands as they softly exited the room. "Why the masks?" he asked Joseph. "Your guys look more like surgeons than cooks."

"Health and safety," he replied. "And... necessity. Any risk of illness must be minimised. Our medical supplies are limited - this far out in deep space, it'd take us months before we could get to anywhere to treat so much as a sniffle."

"You don't seem too concerned," Rory remarked, prompting a swift kick in the shin from Amy beside him. Behave, it clearly said. You're making us both look foolish.

Joseph offered a patient smile. "Sorry, I didn't get your name, Mister 'hubby-to-be'."

"It's Rory. Rory Williams."

"Mister Rory Williams. A most memorable guest who would do well not to let his food go cold so quickly."

Amy awkwardly cleared her throat and curled a length of hair around her finger. "It looks delicious," she mumbled, exchanging daggers with Rory.

"So tell me a bit more about this place," said the Doctor between energetic mouthfuls. "Looks brand new, not to mention expensive."

Joseph smiled. "Well, it wasn't cheap. Let me humbly say that my family is... one of means. I came into this world with more good fortune and opportunity that a person could wish for. It's how I was able to fund my desires to explore the stars, to experience as many of life's fruits as possible. No-one lives forever, after all - why wouldn't you want to make the most of your time?"

"And what does your wife think about all this?" asked Amy.

"Oh, I'm not married," Joseph replied. "Never found time to think about any of that stuff."

"A lone ranger!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Others would dismiss such exploits in order to live their lives, but not you! No, for you, this is living!"

Joseph raised his glass. "Great minds," he smiled. "And yours is truly a great mind indeed. To just appear in a sealed room out of thin air in such a small box... and people thought I was mad when I set off into unknown space."

"Since you mentioned it," Rory interjected, "Any chance we can get back to that box? My fiancée and I have, uh, got some things in there. Important things."

Joseph clasped his hands. "Things that can wait, surely. For reasons that you can no doubt appreciate, the door to that particular room is designed in a rather unique manner. Dozens of violent Ood are herded through it every day - they need to be contained, and we need to be sure that none will escape. That's why the door's controls are linked directly to the room's function - it will only open after it has undergone a full cycle, triggered from the safety of the control booth. A full release and clear. One cannot take place without the other."

"Wait, so you're saying we need to gas the room before the door will open?"

"It's a gas chamber, Mister Rory Williams, not a funpark turnstile. Security and safety are paramount - the controls are one and the same. There needs to be no doubt whatsoever that the specimens put inside are successfully processed before it can be permitted to open. And it's not 'we', but 'I' - the booth is off-limits to all but myself."