Doctor Who - 02 - The Art of Forgetting

.1. The Adventure Emporium

At this time of the day the Adventure Emporium's corridors were desolate and quiet. Behind closed chamber locks projections continued – consecutive episodes of fanciful, baroque sagas, so larded with details, the plot seemed to be at a complete standstill; thrilling stories full of blood and violence; romantic novelettes wrapped in the roar of the waves and the crackle of flames on the fireplace; pseudo-historical epics populated by dwarves, elves and dragons; cheap horrors and sketches just long enough to fill in a lunch break.

Bottle green fibres of a luxurious carpet sprang gently under Theta's feet, making him move soundlessly – a grey shadow in discreet puddles of light and half-light of corridors. The Ood walked deliberately; a waddling, seemingly clumsy gait typical of his species; with arms hanging at his sides and the translator ball swinging on its catch by the shirt's pocket. The Emporium's owners would not let him wear his grey jumpsuit he got used to in the past; a dark trousers and the graphite coloured shirt had to replace Theta's secure camouflage of greyness.

Deep within his mind he could hear quiet singing of Kappa. He suspected that the older Ood was somewhere in the east wing of the complex, several miles and floors away from Theta. Kappa's song was melancholic and nothing more than that. It carried emotions, but contained no words nor pictures. It did not paint the story. Empty, just like muzak accompanying passengers in the lift. Theta and Kappa lived in accommodations provided by the Emporium's owners – small bedrooms facing each other, located in the north wing of the building. Humans must have thought that the Ood, belonging to a social species, would be happy with each others company. Kappa and Theta could as well live in separate galaxies – none of them was showing any interest in the social sphere of life.

At another level of emphatic communication Theta was receiving human transmissions. He had learned not to pay attention to the emotional chaos they carried. Those were artificial feelings, so Theta spared them only as much notice as was necessary for faultless working performance. If Theta was ever good at something, it was definitely a full, unconditional, honest dedication to his work.

He reached the bend of the corridor and pulled the chain attached to his belt. There was a bunch of cryskeys at the end of the chain. With a quiet rattle of thin, transparent plates, Theta started shuffling through cryskeys in search of the right one.

Wham!

Theta dropped the bunch of cryskeys and only the chain saved them from inevitable damage. Growth-phase-coded crystals had plenty of advantages, but one serious flaw as well – they were impossible to forge, but they were also very fragile.

"Oooo, sorry," said someone in a winded voice. "Sorry. Are you all right?"

Theta looked at the man, who had just bumped into him. The man was wearing a dun striped suit, a beige coat and dusty white trainers. The man's face seemed quite expressionless to the Ood's eyes. There was also nothing to tell it apart from thousands of faces of other Emporium's guests. The Ood was wondering sometimes how two people could recognise each other in the crowd. Most of them sang haste; haste and time flying by. Usually they also sang money, insatiable needs and countless fears. This man sang something completely different, although his song was also soaked in haste and time.

"Everything's fine, sir," answered the Ood respectfully. "Thank you for your consideration, sir. How can I be of service?"

"Oooooh!" The expression on the man's face, as he raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth, touching the palate with the tip of his tongue, did not mean anything to Theta, but the Ood picked up a wave of surprise, disappointment and sorrow. "Don't tell me nothing has changed. Nothing? You still have to... serve? Because you didn't have to, not anymore. Ever since your brain had been found. On the Ood-Sphere. Or hadn't it been found? Oh, tell me we'd found it, 'cause if we hadn't, it'd be my fault and I'd have to take it into account; I'm a genius, all right, but I'm really starting to loose track of all the..."