HARMONY (a Doctor Who Novella)

Chapter 11

Rory wiped his brow with the back of his hand. There. Finished. He set the bipolar Lepton actuator aside and surveyed his work. He had to hand it to himself. His aptitude as a Tardis engineer was surprising. He ran his hand over the Feynman electron depletion matrix. For some reason working on these ships reminded him more of medical school than being in Car Club. Elsewhere in the Tardis, however, his voice carried over the open communication system, the Doctor--the Other Doctor-- was not faring as well. According to both Doctors, the dimensional stabilizer circuits were shorting out. That and about an arms length of other complaints. All he knew for sure was that the Tardis was making unhappy noises again and another pane of glass in the greenhouse came crashing down outside.

"No, no, no. no. no!" A fit of coughing followed.

Rory shook his head sadly. No one was taking his medical advice today. Wasn't that always the case? Who listened to the nurse when there was a Doctor in the room, let alone two Doctors? Of course if they'd been proper medical doctors they would have agreed with him that I.V. antibiotics and fluids were preferable to celery juice cocktails, a hand of bananas and a large bottle of chilled ginger beer. There were no less than two specialists on speed dial on Jackie Tyler's phone and he had talked to both of them. Unfortunately, one was in America and the other could not get to where they were because of the flood warnings. He made an adjustment with the quarter-turn anti-clockwise Leptonic isolation ratchet, passed his masterpiece to Amy, who in turn passed it into an open ganglier access port to, well, their Doctor. Something large crashed and splintered somewhere. They heard a faint moan over the open com system.

"You try," Rory told his wife. "They aren't listening to me. Use your feminine wiles."

"What, on him?" Amy whispered, pointing down into the shaft. "That would be your daughter's job, now. Oh, all right. Doctor," she said sweetly. Most effective, Rory thought.

"Yes, Amelia?"

She winked at Rory, then continued, even more sweetly. "Do you think it might be time to feed and rest the troops? He sounds--"

Another mighty crash interrupted them followed by lung-splitting coughing, then a low hum, like the sound one got off the rim of a piece of good crystal.

"--tired. Rory said he'd do with a good kip."

"We're all tired, Amy. Must I remind you the fate of the planet is at stake? Penny."

Rory pushed aside the tool box and reached for the pressure cooker Amy had pilfered from the house earlier. He selected a coin and handed it to his wife who placed it into the Doctor's open palm.

"Yeah, you've mentioned about the planet, but he's really tired. More than we are. You don't count. Where is he, anyway?"

"Power Room 3, I think," Rory told her.

"I thought he was in the Cloister Room," the Doctor said, voice muffled inside the conduit.

"I thought we were in Power Room 3." Amy sounded confused.

"I thought we were below Power Room 8," Rory confessed.

"Don't we know?" Amy asked them both. "And Power Room 8? How many Power Rooms are there? Doctor? Doctor! How many power rooms are there?"

"Hmm? What? Fifteen in our ship, but I don't remember what they're all for. And we're above Power Room 6--where you do not want to go. You won't like the looks of it," the Doctor warned them.