Apocalypse Rising (Book Two)

The Girls in the Fireplace

The first thing Mickey said when he was out of the TARDIS was, "It's a spaceship!" He laughed. "Brilliant! I got a spaceship on my first go!"

"It looks kind of abandoned," Rose observed as she and the Apocalypse stepped out next. "Anyone onboard?"

"Nothing here," the Apocalypse replied, checking her sonic screwdriver. "Well . . . nothing dangerous. Well . . . not that dangerous." Rose gave her a look, and the Apocalypse nodded. "I'm just gonna do a quick scan, in case there's anything dangerous."

"You do that," Rose giggled. "So what's the date? How far we gone?"

"About three thousand years into your future, give or take," the Apocalypse replied, flicking on a switch on the console. Part of the ceiling slid back to reveal the stars in space. "Fifty first century. This is the Diagmar Cluster, which means you're a long way from home, Mickey. Two and a half galaxies away from home."

Rose smiled at him. "Mickey Smith? Meet the universe. See anything you like?"

"It's so realistic!" Mickey said in awe.

"It better be, or else I'm living in a dream," the Apocalypse told him before poking around. ear me, had some cowboys in here. There's a ton of repair work going on." She frowned, poking into the console and looking up schematics. "Now that's odd. Look at that." Rose peered over her shoulder. "All the warp engines are going, full capacity. There's enough power running through this ship to punch a hole in the universe, but we're not moving. So where's all that power going?"

"Where'd all the crew go?" Rose asked.

"Good question." The Apocalypse checked her sonic screwdriver. "No life readings on boar."

"Well, we're in deep space. They didn't just nip out for a quick fag."

"No, I've checked all the smoking pods." The Apocalypse suddenly raised her head, sniffing. "Can you smell that?"

Rose inhaled. "Yeah. Someone's cooking."

"Sunday roast, definitely," Mickey agreed.

The Apocalypse pressed a button on the console, and a door opened up behind them. Rose followed her inside, blinking at the antique room inside, complete with a blazing fire in an ornate fireplace. "Well, there's something you don't see in your average spaceship," the Apocalypse quipped. "Eighteenth century. French. Nice mantle." She used the sonic screwdriver. "Not a hologram. It's not even a reproduction. This actually is an eighteenth century French fireplace. Double sided. There's another room through there."

Rose shook her head, looking out a porthole in the same wall to see out into space. "There can't be. That's the outer hull of the ship. Look."

"Oh, hello!"

Rose looked down to see the Apocalypse speaking to a young girl kneeling on the other side of the fireplace. "Hello," the girl replied.

"What's your name?" the Apocalypse asked kindly.

"Reinette."

"Reinette." The Apocalypse nodded. "That's a lovely name. Can you tell me where you are at the moment, Reinette?"

"In my bedroom."

"And where's your bedroom? Where do you lie, Reinette?"

Reinette blinked. "Paris, of course."

"Paris!" The Apocalypse nodded quickly. "Right!"

"Mademoiselle, what are you doing in my fireplace?"

"Oh, it's just a routine fire check," the Apocalypse brushed off. "Can you tell me what year it is?"

"Of course I can," she nodded. "Seventeen hundred and twenty seven."