Warning: may contain fan fiction.
The robot Lois Lane was bored. When her auto repair cycle had finally completed and she regained consciousness, nearly four hundred years after her creator had done his best to destroy her, she had mostly felt angry. She wasn’t sure at which point during the last six months that anger gave way to boredom, but now, at the farewell party for The Resplendent, apparently the most luxurious space cruiser ever built by man, that boredom had crystallized into a new form that she was pretty sure only her enhanced robotic emotions could really appreciate.
For a brief moment she briefly considered attempting to strike up a conversation with one of the other guests of the party, but she quickly ruled that out as an option. Cothos was a planet with a strictly divided civilization, and the sort of person invited to functions like this were so convinced of their own superiority that even someone who had spent her formative years in the company of Lex Luthor found them somewhat exasperating.
For an even briefer moment she considered doing her job, but the thought of the last conversation she had with her editor brought back that familiar sting of anger, and she ruled that out too.
Lois was momentarily distracted from her boredom by a slight commotion nearby. A man in his mid forties, who looked a bit like Alec Guinness in The Ladykillers if he dressed up as a Victorian vampire, had been accosted by the first mate, who was currently in charge of checking the guest list. Lois was pretty sure he wouldn’t be on it as she had never seen this man before, and she had made a point of memorising the face of all the guests on board during takeoff when they were all confined to the main hall.
“No, I don’t think I am on that,” said the man, “But look, I do have an invitation.” He held up a blank sheet of paper which the first mate studied with great care.
“Alright then,” said the first mate. “I guess there must have been some mistake.” He wondered off shaking his head slightly, presumably to bother some more of the guests.
Lois was intrigued. The invitation she had received was certainly not a blank piece of paper. Perhaps there would be a story here after all. She headed off after the man, who was making a beline straight for the buffet table.
She arrived behind him just in time to hear him address the slave girl who had just been bringing more food up from the kitchen. His voice was somber, but Lois thought that there was a distinctive undercurrent of enthusiasm in there somewhere.
“Ah, crudites! Is there any celery kicking about here?” When she did not reply he merely kept talking, as if to himself. “Ah, here we go!” He happily started picking celery sticks out of the pot of cut up vegetables, sticking some into his pocket and the rest into his mouth.
“By far the best of the earth vegetables in my opinion,” he sputtered, his mouth full, “I’m glad to see its still being grown off world.”
Throughout all this the slave girl had been staring at the floor, only glancing off to the side occasionally, clearly looking for an escape. Lois took pity on her and stepped forward.
“She can’t answer you.”
The man spun round on the balls of his feet to see who it was talking to him. He looked intrigued.
“Why can’t she answer me?”
Lois considered how best to answer that question. “She’s a slave. The slaves aren’t allowed to talk to guests. She could be thrown out of an airlock if she did.”
“Slave?” The man looked confused by this. “It usually takes longer tha…” His confusion changed into something bordering anger. “How do you feel about this state of affairs, er…”
“Lois Lane,” replied Lois. She sighed deeply before going on. “Last week, for the fifth week running, I sent a story into my editor talking about the injustice of the slavery system on Cothos. I thought he would do the same thing he always did and tell me to write something else.”
“Is that what he did?”
“In a manner of speaking. He told me that politics was no place for a young woman like myself, and moved me to covering parties on out of date cruise liners.”
“Ah, so that’s what this is,” said the man, looking about with interest.
Lois’ brow furrowed. “You don’t know where we are?” she asked.
“Not really,” said the man. “I felt like having some fun, so I asked the TARDIS to take me to the nearest party.” The way he said it made it sound as if this was not his idea of fun at all. And then as an afterthought: “I’m The Doctor, by the way.”
Lois let this rather cryptic explanation slide for the moment. “Well, Doctor, behold,” she said, gesturing around with mock enthusiasm, “The Resplendent. The most luxurious cruise ship ever built. At least, it was seventy years ago. It’s not aged well.”
The Doctor nodded as if this were of no great surprise to him. Lois went on “This is its last voyage, hence the party. Just a short trip from Cothos Minor to Cothos Major. I’m supposed to be writing an ‘end of an era’ piece about it, but personally I couldn’t care less.”
The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but Lois would never hear his opinion on the matter because at that moment they were interrupted by a rather batty lady Lois had met a few hours earlier.
Miss Yates was one of the few people Lois had met since boarding The Resplendent that she had actually taken a liking to, though she was starting to warm to this doctor. She was the sort of person who had an awful memory when it came to things like keys and dental appointments, but had probably never forgotten a single piece of gossip about anyone her whole life. Despite this, however, she seemed to radiate artless enthusiasm and happiness, which gave her a rather endearing air. Right now she was marching right towards them, almost physically dragging a much younger, and infinitely more glamorous woman behind her.
“Miss Lane, Miss Lane! Oh, I have to introduce you to simply the most marvelous person! Have you met Miss Lane, Clarissa? Well, here she is, Clarissa! The famous journalist, here, reporting on us! Who would ever have thought it? Oh, well, you would, Clarissa, I’m sure you must always be talking to famous reporters, a glamorous socialite like you. I do wish they would stop trying to guess all your love affairs though. I was saying to Rachel, just the other day, that they should report more on the lovely things you do for charity, and less on your private life. Oh, but Miss Lane, you must introduce me to your friend!”
The Doctor seemed absolutely delighted by Miss Yates. He held out his hand to her with a huge grin on his face. Lois was a bit more hesitant. “This is, er, The Doctor. Doctor, this is Miss Yates.”
The Doctor looked like he was about to reply, but Miss Yates was off again before he could even open his mouth.
“Oh, a doctor, how wonderful. Are you a medical doctor, or an academic? I had the most wonderful friend who was a medical doctor back on Minor. It even looked like it might be wedding bells for a short while, but he was called away to work on Major before anything came of it. And just as well too, it turned out: there was hardly a tradesman’s daughter in the town he hadn’t interfered with. But that all came out after he left though, and I’ll always think of him as I knew him: a handsome and upstanding gentleman. I always put it to my own credit that I didn’t let him too near me though. It wouldn’t have done to have a little accident like…”
She cut herself off, looking a little embarrassed. Lois wasn’t quite sure how to respond, having zoned out for at least half of Miss Yates’ speech. After a moment’s hesitation she decided to at least try and make conversation with Clarissa Huygens. Clarissa probably wasn’t the most famous person onboard the ship, but she did make semi-regular appearances in the pages of newspapers that Lois tended to skip. The pages, she reminded herself, that she was now supposed to be writing for.
“How are you finding the party, Miss Huygens?” she said, in a rather feeble attempt to rekindle the conversation.
“Oh, it’s absolutely wonderful,” said Clarissa, with a wide smile, “This is such a charming ship, it’s so sad that it’s going to be decommissioned after this flight, don’t you think, Doctor?”
Lois was slightly taken aback by this warm and friendly response. The gossip pages had for several years now been painting a picture of Clarissa Huygens as being an overgrown spoilt child. She mentally scolded herself for taking that tripe even half seriously as The Doctor started to reply.
“Yes, it does seem a bit of a shame, I suppose,” he said, looking about. It seemed as though he was only now really taking in his surroundings. “This does seem a rather good example of late twenty-third century ship design. I would love to take a poke around the cargo hold: I bet the bulkhead arrangement down there is marvelous.”
Miss Yates, it seemed, found it physically imposable not to speak for any measurable length of time.
“Oh no, Doctor, you couldn’t do that, I’m afraid. The captain made it quite clear that the cargo bay was closed this journey. It is an old ship, you know. Quite unsafe he said it was. He told us so at the take off. No, it must have been after that, because I was wearing my pink shirt when he said it, wasn’t I, Clarissa? And I was wearing my blue shirt for the take off. But, oh, listen to me going on and on about the colour of my shirts! I’m sure you have much more interesting people to talk to, Miss Lane. Come on, Clarissa, I thought I spotted Reginald a second ago.” And with that she bustled off, with Clarissa in tow.
Lois was slightly dazed by Miss Yates’ outpouring, but The Doctor, if anything, seemed invigorated by it. “Excellent!” he said excitedly. “Talking to people! Right, I’ve eaten some food, and I’ve talked to people, what else do you usually do at parties?”
“Er, well, quite a lot of people like to have a drink,” said Lois, not really sure if any of the parties she had attended involved much else.
The Doctor, taking her advice, spun round and grabbed a glass of sparkling white wine from the buffet table, drew a large swig, and promptly spat it back out into the glass.
“Nope,” he said, wiping his mouth with a disgusted expression, “I don’t like wine. But still, I’ve done eating. That’s pretty close to drinking, isn’t it?”
Lois didn’t really think it was all that close, but upon reflection The Doctor already seemed to possess an air of social cheerfulness, and so perhaps he didn’t feel the need that many did to drink at parties.
“Good,” said The Doctor, apparently satisfied that he could tick another thing of his mental list, “Now, what about party games? Do you think we could get some people together for musical statues?”
“That would be more appropriate with a younger age group I think, Doctor,” Lois said quickly. Although they were clearly very different people, Lois recognized in The Doctor a proactive streak possessed by her creator, and she was pretty sure that if he got the idea of musical statues into his head the whole room would be playing it within half an hour.
Perhaps she should just let him get on with it. At least it might make a good headline. It seemed, however, that his thoughts had already moved on.
“Right, more talking then,” he said, scanning the room for a likely looking interlocutor. “Is that Captain Reicher?”
Lois followed The Doctor’s gaze. He was almost right. Not far away stood a portly, unmistakably military man, conversing with a woman who still retained the remnants of striking beauty, despite being rather late on in her years. “Admiral,” Lois corrected, “And his wife. My editor told me to keep an eye out for him – apparently the captain isn’t too happy with him being here.”
“Really? I can’t imagine why he would be unhappy about having someone guilty of Crimes Against Humanity on his boat.”
The Doctor was oddly well informed, especially for someone who was so clueless in other regards. There had been a blanket ban on all reporting on the Admiral’s trial. Lois knew this only too well, the gag order had been responsible for yet another series of reports that her editor had called ‘unpublishable.’
“Actually,” said Lois, “He was acquitted due to lack of evidence. I think the Captain was more worried about some old grudge.” She thought for a moment. “Actually, it’s even more likely to be something made up by a bored editor who was attempting to get me to write something vaguely sensationalist.”
The Doctor had stopped listening to her at the word “acquitted.” He started off towards the Admiral without listening to the rest of her theory. Lois went after him, not quite sure why, but convinced that The Doctor was going to be the least boring thing at this party by quite some way.
The Doctor didn’t bother waiting for an introduction as would have been normal protocol, but walked right up to the Admiral and started talking. “Admiral Reicher,” he began, “I knew that that you’d committed horrible acts of genocide, but allowing your wife to be seen in public in a dress quite that tasteless is just beyond the pale.”
Lois did her best to conceal a smile. Mrs Reicher’s dress was rather loud, and not exactly to her taste. She did not, however, think that The Doctor’s comment was the sort of thing she should be seen to find amusing.
To say that Reicher was somewhat taken aback by The Doctor’s opening would be understating it. “I beg your pardon?” he spluttered, barley able to contain himself.
“I was just wondering,” continued The Doctor, still all smiles, “How many people you had to pay off to still be free right now.”
The Admiral was not a small man, either in terms of height or girth. His face bore the clear indicators that he had been in many a scrap in his time, and it was clear from his confidence that he had won them all. Most men, Lois thought to herself, would have backed off in terror if he brought himself to his full height and peered down at them over his bushy moustache the way he was presently doing to The Doctor. The Doctor, however, just kept smiling as if everything was just peachy.
“If we were anywhere else…” he began.
The Doctor’s face turned serious, even slightly angry. “Then it is a shame, Admiral, that we are not,” he interrupted.
Lois had seen her creator stand up to beings much more powerful than himself on a regular basis, but where he had had arrogance, The Doctor had confidence. Even after just a few minutes in his presence, Lois believed that if this came to any sort of conflict, The Doctor would come out on top.
Perhaps the Admiral felt the same way, or perhaps he just didn’t want to disturb the party. Either way he simply grunted, and then swept away, almost dragging his wife with him.
The Doctor recovered his levity much faster than Lois would have imagined. She was just thinking what she could say next when she was interrupted by a male voice behind her.
“Miss Lane, would you be so kind to introduce me to your friend?”
Lois turned round to see the neatest person had ever met. Everything about him, from his perfectly trimmed beard to his pristine boots was immaculately turned out. Even his voice, a calm and measured baritone, was neat.
“Certainly,” replied Lois. “Captain Williamson, this is The Doctor.”
“Pleased to meet you, Doctor,” said the ship’s captain, holding out his hand. Rather than shaking it, The Doctor rummaged in his pocket and produced a stick of celery that he had pilfered from the buffet table earlier, and thrust it into the Captain’s proffered hand.
“Pleased to meet you too, Captain,” said the Doctor, before Williamson could really take in his odd behaviour, “you have a rather wonderful ship here.”
“Not for very much longer, Doctor,” said the Captain, with just a hint of saddeness creeping into his normally unwavering voice. “I still regard her as the most beautiful craft ever built by man, no matter what the ship yards on Major have been churning out in the last few years. Nevertheless, I was somewhat surprised that a reporter of Miss Lane’s caliber was sent out to cover our last voyage.”
Lois didn’t think that it would be tactful to tell the captain that her paper no longer thought her reputation worth anything, and that all she was allowed to report on was the colour of the female guest’s frocks.
“Yes… well…” said The Doctor, clearly thinking the same thing, “She definitely deserves to be sent off in style.”
All this time the captain seemed to have been skirting around the point he wanted to make. Lois sensed that he was going to get there soon. “Tell me, Doctor, how did you find the takeoff.”
Captain William Williamson was famed for his memory. Lois did not suppose that it was as good as hers, which was literally photographic, but memorising a few dozen faces was well within his capacity. The captain knew that The Doctor had not been on board for takeoff.
The Doctor looked like he had guessed this too. “It was very smooth, Captain,” he said, without any hint of guilt.
“Well, I must go and see to my other guests, Doctor,” Said Williamson, “I look forward to seeing you again though. Don’t go too far.” With that he walked off, leaving his hint of a threat hanging in the air.
Once he was out of earshot Lois turned to face The Doctor. “I never did ask you how you got on board,” she said.
The Doctor smiled at her. “And I never asked you how an early twenty first century robot ended up here,” he said.
Lois raised her eyebrows. “Okay, fine,” she said, “But don’t expect me not to try and find out.”
“Of course not,” reapplied The Doctor, “It’s not in your nature.” He paused for a moment, and then asked “Lexcorp?”
Lois was even more surprised by this. “Yes,” she said, slightly hesitantly, “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all,” said The Doctor, “As long as you’re not programmed to hunt down and kill human looking aliens.”
“More or less the opposite actually.”
“Excellent!” He began to look around again. “Let’s do more party things.”
Sadly for The Doctor, however, there were to be no more ‘party things’ forthcoming, for, at the moment, a faint, manly roar of pain cut through the hubbub of the party, from the direction of the port observation deck.
Lois owed the fact that she heard the scream over the rather loud conversations and glass clinking that filled the room, to her rather powerful hearing. She strongly doubted that anyone else at the party could have been aware of it. The Doctor, however, clearly was. He turned to look at Lois with a look of mild concern.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, and then without another word swept towards the doors that lead out of the main hall into the grandiose hallway that ran through the centre of the ship. Clearly Lois and The Doctor shared the opinion that even if, as was likely, the scream emanated from someone bashing their knee, investigating it was probably far more interesting then the party. Without pausing to give it much thought, she set off after him.
Lois was not particularly fond of the decor in the central hallway, but she could not deny that the large amounts of gold and silver finished panels and furniture made of rare tropical hardwoods have off an unmistakable air of wealth, and most of the people The Resplendent catered to generally had a price guessing system in the place their taste should have been. The Doctor seemed to be unfazed by it all and was simply looking around to see if he could get a better idea of where the scream could have come from. He very quickly decided that the most obvious option was a nearby door labeled “The Hutton Suite,” outside of which the captain was standing, seemingly frustrated by something.
As they approached it became clear the captain was having trouble opening the door. he did not look up as they approached, but pushed his finger yet again up against the finger print reader and when it yet again refused to open the door for him, he uttered a word under his breath that Lois would not have expected him to use, even if he was a sailor.
“Excuse me, Captain Williamson,” The Doctor said, “Did you happen to hear a loud scream just now?”
The captain looked him up and down. “Yes,” he replied, “From in here, which is why I am trying to get in. It would seem, however, that whoever is in there is at pains to keep everyone else out, and has activated the ‘deadbolt’ feature.”
“Which locks it from the inside?” asked The Doctor, and then, without waiting for a reply, “Please allow me.”
“I don’t see what you can do.” said the captain, but The Doctor had already pulled a pen-like object from his pocket and gently nudged him aside. He pointed this object at the control next to the door and the object emitted an odd whining sound. For a moment nothing happened, but after a few seconds the door opened to reveal a room rather like the main hall, only much smaller. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it, other than the presence of Admiral Reicher, lying face down in a puddle of blood, with a large knife sticking out of his back.
Lois could tell that Reicher was dead just by looking at him, but the others, lacking in vision that extended into the infra red range, needed to investigate a bit more closely. The Captain was the first to the body, kneeling down next to it and feeling for a pulse. He spent quite some time doing this, clearly becoming less sure of himself every second. Despite putting a lot of effort into his appearance, Williamson apparently didn’t mind getting some blood on himself in an emergency. Eventually, he looked up at The Doctor with a stern expression. “He’s dead,” he said, getting to his feat.
The Doctor nodded slowly. “I know,” he said, clearly deep in thought.
The Captain was not in the mood for playing around. “How could you know?” he said, getting a little suspicious.
“He’s been face down in a puddle of blood since we arrived,” said Lois, answering for The Doctor. “Even if he had been alive when we got here, he would have drowned by now.”
“Well there’s nobody else here, and it was locked form the inside. Obviously, he killed himself.” The captain said this with such conviction that most people would have simply decided that he knew what he was talking about.
Lois, however, was not most people, and something about that scenario just didn’t ring true. “Did the Admiral have any reason to kill himself that you know of?” she asked.
The captain did not answer. He seemed to be slowly coming aware or several facts at once:
1. There was a corpse of a relatively famous military figure on his ship.
2. An equally well known, and highly respected journalist had not only seen the body, but was now asking him questions about it.
3. If he did not intervene, facts 1 and 2 taken together were about to horribly ruin what he had planned on being a rather relaxed and peaceful retirement.
“Listen to me,” he said with a look of steely determination. “This man clearly killed himself. I will let The Doctor here examine the body, but I do not want a word of this spoken to any of the other guests.” And with that he departed.
During the last few minutes The Doctor had been performing an odd little dance with his hands behind his back. As Lois turned towards him he stopped, whipped a stick of celery out of his pocket, stuffed it in his mouth, and then, through wads of half chewed vegetable, declared triumphantly, “He did not kill himself.” With that, he dashed off to the nearest wall and began to slowly walk around the perimeter of the room running his hand along it, occasionally stopping to tap and listen.
“I’m inclined to agree with you,” said Lois, “But what makes you say it do definitely.” As she was saying it she remembered The Doctor’s odd little dance, and realized what he had just worked out, “Ah, the position of the knife.”
“Could you have stabbed yourself there?” he asked, still circling the room.
She almost said no, but, on reflection, The Doctor somehow already knew what she was. “Probably,” she admitted, “But I do have father flexible joints. A normal person couldn’t, even if they did decide for some reason that it would be the best way of killing themselves with a knife.”
“A normal non-robot person you mean,” said The Doctor, who had found a section of wall that he felt was particularly interesting.
Lois was speaking before she could help it. “I’m actually not very fond of the term ‘robot’.”
“Oh? Why not?” said The Doctor, still tapping at a section of wall.
Lois thought for a moment about how to answer that. “Etymology, I guess,” he said eventually, “It comes from the Czech word for…”
“Slave,” interrupted The Doctor. “I can see why that might be somewhat…”
“Offensive.”
“Yes,” He stopped tapping the wall and brought out the odd pen like device again, “How about ‘Mechanoid American’?”
“How about ‘Lois’?” said Lois.
The Doctor smiled at her. “It will do for now, I suppose,” he said, before pointing the pen-thing at the wall and once again causing it to let off a warbling squeal.
Almost as soon as the noise started the section of wall began to move revealing a thin, undecorated corridor. “A secret passage on a ship?” said Lois, a little bemused.
“Not quite,” corrected The Doctor, “A concealed passage. Used by the ship’s staff get quickly around without bothering the guests. Not secret, but not advertised either.”
“So anyone could know about it,” said Lois.
“Anyone who cared,” said The Doctor, as he walked into the passage. Lois followed him in.
It did not stretch very far, and came out in another grandiose side corridor which led off towards the stern of the ship.
The Doctor looked as if he was concerned about something, but if he was he did not share it with Lois. To be fair, there was rather a lot to be concerned about.
A thought struck Lois. “Do you suppose this ship has a bio-scan?” she asked.
The Doctor was still deep in thought, but snapped out of it instantly. “Not on a ship this age, he said, with a frown, but then, he brightened up, “Though one could well have been retrofitted.” He set off in the general direction of the bridge at a run, tailed by Lois. Luckily for them, security was not great on the ship. Whoever had built it thought their locks were much more secure than they actually were. The Doctor’s pen-thing made short work of them, and they did not meet anybody along their way to the bridge.
Actually, Lois thought, it was not all that lucky: it security had been better the Admiral would probably not have been murdered in the first place.
While the areas of the ship the guests could see outshone almost every other craft in the galaxy, the bridge looked pretty much like every other bridge in ships of this size, albeit somewhat cleaner. The Doctor started looking around for a bio-scanner terminal, but Lois had already found one. She walked over to it, and was disappointed within a few seconds.
“It has one,” she told The Doctor, “but only in the main hall.”
“What’s the point of that?” said The Doctor, slightly bemused.
“It’s still helpful though, if we can get a list of the staff on board.” by “staff,” she actually meant “slaves,” but she hoped the doctor would understand this.
He nodded. “We would need a guest list as well.”
Lois simply tapped her head. The Doctor got the message. He went over to the nearest computer and within the space of a minute had a list of all the slaves, as well as the handful of actual crew members. Lois peered at it over his shoulder. It was a very short list. Years ago, when the ship had been built, there had been around fifty full time staff, but over the century since then the vast majority of their jobs had been automated. This was largely because the privileged few who could afford to travel on The Resplendent were uncomfortable around staff as there was a widespread belief amongst them that ‘poor’ was simply another word for ‘criminal.’
“Four crew and two slaves,” he said. “No wonder the security is rubbish.”
Lois nodded and headed back to the bio-scanner. Using the playback function she wound it back to the time of the murder. After scanning the list she announced, “Everyone was accounted for except for five people.”
“The Admiral,” said The Doctor.
“Of course,” responded Lois, “The Captain and Admiral’s wife are also not accounted for, along with both slaves.”
“And you, since a bio-scanner wouldn’t pick you up,” The Doctor pointed out.
“Yes,” Lois said after a short pause to think about what he was getting at, “But you know exactly where I was at.”
“I don’t think you’re a suspect,” The Doctor said, “Just being thorough.”
“Talking of which,” said Lois, “The only trace I can find of you is ‘unidentified non-human.”
“Yes, well…” said The Doctor, and walked out of the room without elaborating further.
“So we have four suspects, who may also be witnesses.”
They were walking back to the main hall, and Lois wanted to get all the cards on the table, so to speak, before they arrived.
“Yes,” The Doctor confirmed, “though I’m not sure how much we’ll be able to look into it without tipping off the captain.”
Lois was somewhat surprised by this attitude. She had included him in the list of suspects for the sake of completeness; she did not for a moment think that he might actually have done it. Then again, she did not think that any of their suspects so far sounded very likely.
The Doctor seemed to sense her confusion. “Guests may or may not have known about that passage, but the captain definitely would have done.”
Once this had been pointed out the her, Lois had no trouble putting together The Doctor’s train of thought. “He knew that the murderer could have gotten out of the room, but he still insisted it was a suicide, despite the rather obvious evidence otherwise” she said. she thought about it for a moment. “He might not have done it, he might just want to avoid an investigation.”
The Doctor nodded. “That is possible.”
The sound of sobbing distracted Lois’ train of thought. She looked up to see the captain and Mrs Reicher standing outside the The Hutton Suite – the room that Lois assumed still head the body of the Admiral. Mrs Reicher was in tears. It seemed that even if he wanted to keep the fact he had a corpse on board quiet, he at least had the decency to notify the next of kin. He did not dally though, and soon after turned and left to go and attend to other matters.
The Doctor walked over to Mrs Reicher. He did not say anything, but gently placed his hand in her shoulder. Lois wanted to say something, but could not think what.
“He… he just said he wanted to see the view without a crowd,” Mrs Reicher managed to get out between sobs.
“Where were you go after that?” The Doctor asked. Lois was impressed by the way he made it sound comforting, rather than an interrogation.
Mrs Reicher paused for a moment before answering. “I went to the ladies to clean up my makeup.” She let out a desperate sound half way between a laugh and a sob gesturing to the tears running down her cheeks, dragging mascara with them. “I suppose that was a waste of time now.”
The Doctor nodded, before saying gently “I can see you want to be alone,” and he and Lois left the widow to her grief.
As soon as they were out of earshot Lois turned to The Doctor and said “She’s lying.”
The Doctor turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “What makes you say that?”
“The only nearby toilets available to guests are off the main hall itself. The bio-scanners cover them. She wasn’t there.”
The Doctor thought about this for a moment, and then said “I suppose you could be right. Or she just used a different toilet.”
Lois assumed that The Doctor was heading back to the party, but she was not all that surprised when he walked right past the main hall and kept going. “not in the mood for partying any more then, Doctor?” she asked.
“I would quite like to know where our other missing persons were,” he replied.
“The kitchens would be the best place to start then, I guess.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Lois had not had a chance to see any plans of the ship, and she did not think that The Doctor had either, so she was taken slightly off guard when he darted down a side corridor. It had a few doors off it, but came to an abrupt dead end. The Doctor whipped out his pen-thing once again, and after a short squeal was emitted a concealed door not unlike the one in the Hutton suite opened.
What is that thing?” Lois asked, looking at the pen-thing.
“Sonic screwdriver.” The Doctor said, as if this was an explanation, and started off down the undecorated passage that had just been revealed.
“How did you know the kitchens were down here?”
“Following my nose.”
Lois was a bit disgruntled by this answer as she had smelt nothing. Although her olfactory organs were technically more sensitive than a human’s she had never really gotten the hang of smelling food – probably because she didn’t need to eat it. Every time she was reminded of this it made her a little angry with herself, and she would vow to make more of an effort in the future. She was just in the act of mentally doing this when she remembered that The Doctor wasn’t even human anyway, and could very well have a considerably better sense of smell than her.
The passage was a short one, and they quickly emerged in the gargantuan kitchen. At first glance, the whole area was automated, with robotic arms overseen by an array of cameras, which appeared to all sprout from an overgrown computer console in the corner. Lois smiled to herself. Apparently the stereotype of the fat chef extended to computers.
On closer inspection, however, a young man could be seen huddled in the corner. He was reasonably clean, dressed in simple but whole clothes and seemed to be in good health, but the thick iron chain that attached him to the wall dispelled any illusions Lois had that he was a free man. He was crouching in the centre of his living and working area. To one side of him was a large stove, and on the other was a sink, both obviously for his duties in the kitchen, whatever they were. There were a couple of personal things around too though, a mattress with some blankets, and, oddly, a treadmill.
Not so odd, actually, after she thought about it for a moment. The captain would want his slaves to remain healthy, and a treadmill was a small expense compared to a new slave. It wasn’t like he was going to get much other exercise.
The Doctor looked him up and down. “Tom?” he said softly. Lois sensed that it wasn’t really a question, but he wanted to appear friendly – Tom, assuming that’s who it was, looked terrified half out of his mind.
The man nodded slightly, but was evidently too scared to speak. This was not really surprising, considering he had probably been threatened with the airlock if he talked to guests. Or maybe it was simply that he had never actually seen anyone who was not a crew member or another slave.
“Don’t worry,” she said gently, “we’re not here to hurt you, or get you into trouble.”
Tom did not look entirely convinced, but relaxed a little.
The Doctor was eyeing up the chain that attached Tom to the wall. It was welded in place at one end, and the other was clamped around his ankle. It was obvious that it had not been removed in years as it had rusted shut. “I take it you’ve not been out of the kitchen recently,” he said.
Tom shook his head.
“How about Linda? Has she been here recently?”
Tom looked unsure whether or not to speak, but after a few moments said, “She left a few minutes ago.”
“How long was she here before that?”
Tom seemed to be getting more confident now that they had not thrown him out into the vacuum of space for opening his mouth. He thought about it, before saying, “about three quarters of an hour.”
The Doctor nodded, and left the kitchen. Before she followed him out, Lois turned to Tom. “Thank you,” she said, and then left after The Doctor.
When Lois caught up with him, The Doctor was deep in thought. “Forty five minutes would mean that she left as soon as I finished speaking to her,” he said as soon as he was aware of Lois’ presence.
“She would have finished bringing the food up, so it would make sense for her to go back to the kitchen,” pointed out Lois.
The Doctor seemed to accept this as a sensible point, but didn’t actually make a response. Instead, he said, “I think it’s about time we had a talk with the captain.”
The captain was to be found in the main hall mingling with the guests and generally doing his best at pretending nothing was wrong. As a man who had spent a considerable amount of his life in high positions in the military he was rather good at this, but his face still showed a momentary sign of worry when he spotted Lois and The Doctor walking towards him. He quickly apologized to the rather prim looking lady he had been talking to, and walked towards them, clearly wanting to talk to them out of earshot of the other guests.
“Have you come to your senses yet, Doctor, or are you still barking up the murder tree?” he asked as soon as he was close enough for them to hear him talking under his breath.
When The Doctor replied he did so in a normal tone, with no concession to discretion. “I still think that he was murdered, and so do you, Captain.”
The Captain was clearly flustered. “What do you mean by that?”
“That you knew fine well that there was another way into that room,” The Doctor smiled, before going on, “Either that, or you’re a bit of a rubbish captain.”
Lois felt that she should probably step in at this point. Williamson looked like he might very well physically assault The Doctor. “What we mean,” she began, “Is that we can see why you might not want a large investigation just when you were about to start a relaxing retirement.”
The Captain merely grunted in response.
Lois pushed her advantage. “So, it would be your interest to see this all cleared up before we land.”
The captain thought for a moment, and then appeared to come to a conclusion. “Yes, I would prefer if this were cleared up quickly.”
Lois smiled as sweetly as she knew how, and in a soft voice said, “So you wouldn’t mind telling us where you were when the admiral was killed.”
The captain was somewhat taken aback by this request for information, but he could see that it was to his advantage to answer. “I was in my cabin. This is a rather… emotional… day for me. It is my last voyage after all. I wanted a small rum and a few minutes to myself.”
“Thank you,” said Lois, “I think that will help us a lot.”
“It had better,” the captain retorted. “I will not tolerate a full investigation when we land on Major. It would be in your best interests not to let the others know what you are doing if you choose to keep investigation this.” With that he disappeared into the crowd.
The Doctor smiled widely at Lois. “I think he just threatened us,” he said brightly.
Lois nodded. “Yes,” she said, “I don’t think his opposition to an investigation is just down to him wanting a quiet retirement.”
“Oh, of course not,” replied The Doctor, “He’s hiding something pretty big.”
“Do you think he could have killed the admiral?”
“I think he could have done. But I’m not sure that he did. He is up to something though.”
“Ooh, someone is up to something? How exciting! Do tell more!”
Recognizing the voice, Lois turned to see Miss Yates at her side, looking expectantly at The Doctor.
“Hello, Miss Yates,” said The Doctor brightly. “Lois and I were just discussing a soap opera.”
Miss Yates did not know what a soap opera was since the term had not been used in over a hundred years, and what she did not understand did not interest her. However, luckily for Miss Yates, she was not going to go without intrigue for long. At that moment Clarissa Huygens appeared at her side.
“Miss Yates,” she began, “Have you seen the captain? The most terrible thing has happened.”
Miss Yates ignored the obvious hyperbole. Her interest was piqued. “Oh, you poor thing, tell me all about it.”
“I think I have been robbed! I just went up to my room to change my dress, and the whole place has been turned upside down.”
Lois was interested as well now, and so too was The Doctor. “Did you actually see if anything was missing?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t stay for long. I wanted to tell the captain about this right away.”
The Doctor thought for a moment before saying “Alright. Do you mind if we take a look in there while you go and find him?”
Clarissa looked confused by the request for a few seconds, but then glanced at Lois and came to the obvious, although incorrect conclusion. “Yes, of course the two of you can, Doctor.” Lois smiled: Clarissa Huygens rarely turned down the opportunity for free publicity.
They set of right away, The Doctor clearly not wanting to waste any time. “Do you suppose this is linked to the admiral?” Lois asked his as soon as she was confident they would not be overheard.
“I doubt it,” he replied. “But we won’t know until we have a look around. You wouldn’t happen to know which room Miss Huygens is staying in, would you?”
“No.”
The Doctor shot her an exasperated look. “What kind of gossip columnist are you?” he demanded.
Lois was not sure if he were joking or not. “One who doesn’t care,” she answered.
As it turned out, finding Clarissa Huygens’ room was not at all difficult as she had not bothered closing her door after finding it in the state it was. If Lois did not know better she would have sworn that The Doctor was a little disappointed by this, as he would not get an excuse to play with his sonic screwdriver again.
The large and luxurious room was by no means the most untidy Lois had ever seen. A few frocks had been thrown on the bed, and some of Miss Huygens’ various belongings had been knocked onto the floor, presumably from the dressing table. The Doctor looked around briefly, and then strode into the room. Careful not to touch anything, he began to look about in more detail. Lois was not sure what he was looking for, and realized that there was something much more useful she could be doing. Going over to the door, she examined the keypad by the side of it. It was considerably more complicated than a simple locking mechanism, with a few useful features such as the heating controls and an intercom. It did not take her long to find what she was looking for: a time-log.
“I don’t think this is linked to the admiral,” she said after examining the log for a few seconds.
“Why not?” said The Doctor getting to his feet: he had been kneeling on the floor and peering under the bed.
“The last time the door was opened was more or less the exact time of his murder.”
“Did that thing tell you anything else?”
“As far as I can see the door wasn’t forced, whoever came in here knew the code.” A thought hit Lois. “The captain would know the door codes, wouldn’t he?”
The Doctor whipped out a celery stick and chewed on it thoughtfully. “I don’t think he did this. He would have been more careful than to leave this mess.”
Lois could not argue with that point. “Did you find anything interesting?”
“A lapel pin and a scrap of fabric. Come on, The captain will be on his way as soon as Clarissa gets hold of him, and I don’t fancy him finding us here.”
Lois did not have as much time as she would have liked on the way back to the to think about The Doctor’s finds in Miss Huygens’ room, or why he thought they were important. It did not take her long, however, to figure out the relevance to at least one of them.
“It was Mrs. Reicher that was in Clarissa’s room”, she suddenly blurted.
The Doctor smiled at her and held up the scrap of fabric he had found. It perfectly matched the rather loud pattern that Mrs. Reicher was wearing. “That is the assumption I am working on, though I would like to check the dress in question for any recent damage before I make any conclusions,” he said.
They found Mrs. Reicher not too long later sitting in her room, having removed herself from the party. Captain Williamson was sitting with her doing his best to comfort her. One of the first things Lois noticed was that her dress did indeed have a small tear at the hem. Lois chanced a significant glance at The Doctor, but he did not notice, or, at least, pretended not to. Instead, he addressed the widow directly.
“Is there anything we can do to help, Mrs. Reicher?” he asked.
Mrs. Reicher did not answer straight away, but after a short pause replied, “I would really appreciate a cup of tea.”
The Captain was on his feet before The Doctor had a chance to react. He walked directly over to the intercom by the door, dialed in a short code and then said into it, “Linda, prepare a cup of tea and bring it to Mrs. Reicher’s room.” He thought for a moment, and seemed to change his mind about something. “Belay that, I will come down and collect it myself.” He turned to Lois. “Miss Lane, would you please keep an eye on Mrs. Reicher here while I’m away?” As he said it he glanced at The Doctor in a way that indicated that the widow was not the only person he wanted watched.
“Of course”, replied Lois, which was all the encouragement the captain seemed to need to leave. Lois walked over to Mrs. Reicher, who was seated on the bed, and sat down next to her. She got the impression that Mrs. Reicher wanted company rather than conversation. After a minute or so, however, Mary attempted to start talking to the Doctor.
“Are you a medical doctor, or an academic?”
“Yes,” he replied immediately, before thinking about it, and then saying, “Well, no, actually.” Mrs. Reicher looked more than a little confused by this response. The Doctor smiled. “I’m both.”
Lois was surprised when Mrs. Reicher gave a tear-filled smile in response. “Ah,not one or the other then. What is your field of study?”
“I’ve studied most broad fields at one time or another, but now I mostly just travel.”
“But you have studied medicine?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Reicher leaned forward. “As a medical man, do you think that my husband could have killed himself?”
The Doctor smile faded. “Of course not.”
“Do you have any ideas about how he died then?”
Lois would very much have liked to hear The Doctor’s response to that question, but he never got a chance to make it because at that moment Captain Williamson returned with a cup of tea, as promised. He handed it to Mrs. Reicher and turned to The Doctor. “Come now, Doctor,” he said, “I’m sure that Mrs. Reicher would appreciate some time to herself.”
“Of course,” agreed The Doctor. On his way out he turned to Mrs. Reicher. “Please let me know if there is anything at all you need,” he said.
The Captain walked with them down the hall and stopped as soon as they were far enough away from Mrs. Reicher’s room that they would not be overheard.
“I hope the two of you have not been disturbing Mrs. Reicher, or any of my other guests for that matter, with your absurd theories.” His voice was quiet, but his tone implied that he was not happy with them.
“I was under the impression that you wanted this solved before we land. From the gravitational interference I’ve been feeling that can’t be more than a few hours away.” The Doctor did an odd little jump thing. “I’d guess about eight. Hours that is.”
Lois had not felt any gravitational interference, but the ship was scheduled to begin reentry in just over six hours and land about one hundred and ten minutes after that, so The Doctor was pretty much spot on in his estimate.
The Captain was clearly torn about something. His normally composed features became more and more twisted as he fought some sort of internal battle. Eventually, he appeared to some to a decision. “Find out what you can, but don’t go poking around the ship. If you have not come to some conclusion by the time we land I will not be pleased.” He started to walk away, but turned back to them after a few paces. “Some of my younger colleagues on the surface do not take as kindly to stowaways as I do.” With that he left them.
“That one was definitely a threat,” said Lois as soon as he was gone.
“Yes I rather think it was,” said The Doctor with a smile.
“You seem awfully cheerful about something that could cause you serious difficulty,” Lois pointed out.
“Oh, I doubt that he can cause me any difficulty,” said The Doctor, “And now I don’t feel so bad about completely ignoring his wishes.”
Lois was not sure exactly how The Doctor planned to get off the ship without being caught by the rather strict immigration officials on Major, but before she could ask a large thud came from the direction of Mary Reicher’s room.
Without hesitating The Doctor started running back the way they had just came. Luckily, Mrs. Reicher had not closed her door, and so when they arrived at her room they could see her unconscious form lying on the floor right away without having to faff around with any sonic screwdrivers. The Doctor instantly ran over to her and touched her neck. “She’s just unconscious,” he confirmed, “but her pulse is weak.” He reached for her tea cup, which was lying on the floor, its contents spilled, and smelled it. “Ferweed,” he said, and when Lois obviously did not understand, “It’s a type of poisonous fungus. Pretty common on Minor at this time. I think.” He got to his feet. “Keep her heart going. I don’t think she’s had much, but we should give her something anyway,” he said, and ran out the room.
Lois was not sure what she should be doing. She had a good knowledge of early 21st century medicine, but sadly that did not cover ferweed, which had not been discovered until around twenty-two hundred. Without any other ideas she simply performed CPR as well as she could without lungs until The Doctor ran in a few minutes later with a small bottle of liquid. He unscrewed the bottle and used a dropper to place a single drop of the purple contents into Miss Reicher’s mouth.
Almost immediately, she started to come round. “She should be fine now,” said The Doctor, “She must have hardly have had any at all. Help me get her onto the bed.”
Now that Mrs. Reicher was in no immediate danger, Lois knew exactly what they should be doing. “We have to find the captain,” she said.
Finding the captain ended up being rather more difficult than Lois had first supposed. He was not at the party, and neither was he in his private quarters or on the bridge. The ship was a large vessel, and there were many places he could be, but the bridge controls indicated that there were no malfunctions on the craft that could give them a clue. After deliberating for a moment, The Doctor realized something.
“There are a lot of places he could be, but I would be willing to bet that he is in the cargo hold.”
It made sense in a way. Unlike in transport ships the holds on luxury cruisers like The Resplendent were pressurized so that the guests could get at their belongings during the trip. It would be sensible for the captain to make sure that everything in it was well secured for landing, but it would be more usual for him to send a member of the crew to do this. Captain Williamson seemed like the sort of man who did not delegate tasks that he did not have to, but The Doctor seemed to have some more evidence than just a hunch. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” Lois asked.
“No,” said The Doctor, “But the way he’s been acting makes me think he’s hiding something, and where better to hide it than in a large storage space which has, unusually, been made out of bounds to guests?”
Lois could see some logic in this, and lacking a better idea decided to go along with The Doctor.
As they walked towards the rear of the ship, Lois considered who could have poisoned Mrs. Reicher. “As far as I can see,” she said to The Doctor after some thought on the matter, “The only people I can see being able to poison Mr.s Reicher would be the kitchen slaves and the captain.
“Yes. And Mrs. Reicher herself, of course” pointed out The Doctor.
Lois was not convinced by this. “Why would she want to poison herself?”
“She was very upset by her husband’s death. Perhaps she did not wish to go on without him. Or maybe she killed him and is now filled with remorse.” As he was talking another seemed to occur to The Doctor. “She did not take very much at all, not nearly enough to kill her. Perhaps she killed her husband and wanted to throw us off the scent.”
“She did seem to think we were investigating something,” Lois said, thinking this last possibility over. “And we still don’t know what she was doing in Miss Huygens’ room.”
“Oh, I think I have a fair idea,” said The Doctor with a smile. “Anyway, it’s pointless to speculate at the moment, we don’t have enough information. I just wanted to keep her as a possibility for now.”
Lois nodded in consent. “That leaves us with exactly the same four suspects we have for the admiral’s murder.”
“Yes,” agreed The Doctor, “Which leads me to think the two might be linked, though it could well just be a coincidence.”
By this time they were nearing the cargo bay. The hallway was still one used by guests, but noticeably less grandiose than the sleeping quarters or social areas. The decor was pleasant, rather than opulent and overbearing. There were no doors leading off to either side, as this part of the ship was mainly taken up with areas that were off limits to guests and only accessible through service corridors.
Lois had not heard any footsteps, so she was mildly surprised when Captain Williamson appeared from around a bend in the corridor ahead.
“What on Cothos are the two of you doing down here?” he demanded, “Were you not aware that the cargo bay was off limits to guests on this voyage?”
“We were looking for you, actually, Captain,” said The Doctor, “And we’re not on Cothos, we’re on a spaceship.”
The captain ignored the second part of The Doctor’s utterance. “What is it that you wanted to say to me?”
“We wanted to let you know that someone has attempted to poison Mrs. Reicher with ferweed,” Lois told him.
The captain, to his credit, looked at least a little concerned by this, and some of his poorly hidden aggression towards them abated. But only a little. “Is she alright?” he asked.
“She is fine,” said The Doctor, “She only took a very little amount.”
Any traces of concern disappeared from the captain’s face. “So, what’s the problem then?”
“We thought you might be a little concerned by the fact that there’s a potential murderer aboard your ship, Captain,” Lois pointed out.
“I already knew that,” Williamson retorted, “And I was under the impression that you were trying to find out who they are, not sneaking around areas of the ship you should not be in order to tell me facts I do not need to know. Come on now, I want you back with the others. Now.” And with that he began to escort them back in the direction of the main hall. Lois considered pointing out that although the cargo bay was off limits, no one had said anything about the corridor leading to it, or that talking to the captain might have been an essential part of the investigation, but decided that it would be more tactful not to bother.
As they began to walk, Lois noticed The Doctor get a sudden look of realization, which he quickly hid beneath his usual mask of gruffness. “Why is the cargo bay off limits, Captain?” he suddenly asked.
The captain was slow to respond. “We had some trouble with the pressurization,” he said eventually.
“But you still have something in it,” said The Doctor without hesitation.
“What makes it your business?” asked Williamson.
“Oh, I was just idly curious,” said The Doctor, apparently satisfied with the information he had obtained. He did not speak again until they were back at the main hall, but appeared to be thinking about something.
When they returned to the main hall the captain looked at them sternly. “You may move around the ship as if you were a guest, but I’m giving you no special privileges. You may keep investigating if you like, but do not let me catch you off-limits.” With that, he departed.
The Doctor waited until he was out of sight before turning to Lois. “I want to check something on the ship’s computer, but I don’t want you getting into trouble if the captain catches me. Can you talk to the guests while I’m gone? Some of them might know something interesting.”
Lois balked at the thought of actually having to speak to these people. She was going to object, but he had a point: they had hardly spoken to any of the two hundred potential witnesses. It was unlikely that any of them had seen anything as they could not have been present at the crime, but some of them might know a bit about motive at very least. Not that it would be hard to find a motive for killing Admiral Reicher, but his wife was a bit trickier.
The Doctor dashed off before she could answer, leaving Lois alone for the first time since he had arrived at the party. She took the opportunity to look back over the last few hours. Lois had not meant to, but quite unintentionally found herself caught up in some sort of activity vortex with The Doctor at its centre. She felt different now to the way she felt yesterday. At first she could not place what it was, the source of this new emotion, but after a few minutes thought it finally came to her. It was not a new emotion at all, simply the lack of one she had grown so used to that she did not even register its presence until it finally left: The robot Lois Lane was no longer bored.
Lois’ attention was quickly pulled back to reality by a shrill voice calling out her name. “Oh, Miss Lane, Miss Lane! What a party this is, and what food! Did you try the salmon? I was just saying to Clarissa here that it was quite the finest that I had ever tasted. And so many goings on! You’ll have quite the column come Monday!”
If Lois had had a stomach it would have lurched at those words. She had so far completely failed to rake up any dirt at all. If she still worked on Earth the rather detailed information she had about an otherwise unknown murder would have easily been enough to bail her out, but that is not how Cothos worked at all. No one cared about a corpse, her editor least of all. She had been sent here for gossip, which they did care about, and she had none at all. No matter. Miss Yates appeared to have hoovered up enough dirt to fill at least a month’s worth of gossip pages.
“So, Miss Yates,” she said, dying a little inside as she feigned interest, “Spill the beans!” and then in a low conspiratorial voice, “What have you heard?”
Miss Yates had probably never heard the term “spill the beans” before, as it had died out several hundred years ago, but she knew an invitation to share gossip when she heard it.
“Well,” she began, “you didn’t hear it from me, but…”
For at least five full minutes Lois let Miss Yates’ verbal stream wash over her. She did her best to listen to the constant flow of half familiar names belonging to the C-list celebrities and socialites that attended functions like this one. Considerably less than half the information entered into her consciousness, but luckily she had had the foresight to start recording the conversation the moment Miss Yates had started talking, so she would easily be able to pick through it all later and write it up as something approaching a coherent article.
The Doctor arrived next to Lois towards the end of Miss Yates’ monologue. Lois half expected him to interrupt her as he clearly had something to share, but he stood politely and listened to the cascade of winks and innuendo, and, oddly, not without some interest. Lois had to fight back a smile as an image of the Doctor reading Heat magazine popped into her head.
“…And of course Miss Huygens’ being talked to like that by Mrs. Reicher! I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone being so cold to someone they had only just met. And I had always thought Mrs. Reicher to be such a nice woman. But then, there were always those rumors about her, shall we say, youthful indiscretion? Which I, of course, paid no attention to, but you never can tell what people are hiding.”
“Indeed not,” agreed The Doctor, “By the by, Miss Yates, did you ever hear what happened to the, er, product of that indiscretion?”
Miss Yates leaned in close to him. “Apparently it ended up in an orphanage on Minor. It was all very hush-hush though.”
“Of course,” said The Doctor, winking, “Thank you Miss Yates, you’ve been very helpful.”
“Yes, very helpful indeed,” agreed Lois. “Would you like my job? You’re much better at it than I am.”
Miss Yates thought that Lois was giving her a joking compliment and simply blushed.
Lois realized that The Doctor had taken her hand in his. He gave Miss Yates a small nod and then walked away, taking Lois with him. As soon as they were a few yards away, she could not resist asking, “How did you know she was referring to a child?”
The Doctor shrugged. “It was a guess. If I had been wrong I have no doubt that she would have corrected me, and felt smug about having better sources than me.”
Lois thought that she could feel flaws in this line of argument, but she did not know what they were. “What was it you were off checking up on while I was having my article written for me?” she asked after deciding that Mrs. Reicher’s “youthful indiscretions” were beside the point.
“The fuel gauge.”
A small bubble of worry started to form in Lois’ mind. “You didn’t think we have enough fuel or landing?”
The Doctor smiled “I thought that we had plenty of fuel, I just wanted to know how much we had used so I could estimate the weight of the ship.”
“Is that particularly accurate?”
“To about a ton.” The Doctor anticipated her next question and responded before she had even opened her mouth. “Even taking that into account there are about 16 tons unaccounted for.
It only took Lois a few seconds to work out what The Doctor was getting at. “The cargo bay.”
“Yes, most likely.”
During the last conversation they had walked out of the party and were now heading down the corridor towards the kitchens at a rather brisk pace. “Can I have my hand back now?” asked Lois.
The Doctor glanced down, apparently having forgotten he was still holding Lois by the hand. “Sorry,” he said, letting go. “I just thought I would give Miss Yates a bit of a mislead. I didn’t want her thinking too hard about why we were spending so much time together.” He glanced over his shoulder and then started walking even faster than he had been. “Come on,” he said, “I want to get this done before the captain spots we’re missing.”
The Doctor was now walking so fast that Lois had to jog to keep up with him. He whipped out his sonic screwdriver as he approached the concealed door and had it open before they even arrived.
As soon as he entered the kitchen he pointed the sonic screwdriver at Tom’s manacles and let it emit a squeal. It appeared to have no effect at all, but The Doctor was undeterred. He picked up a large spoon and started attempting to pry a manacle open with it. Both Tom and Linda, who was standing in the corner, seemed terrified by The Doctor’s actions, but were too intimidated to say anything to stop him.
He had been working on the manacle for about a minute without success when the door opened and Captain Williamson stormed into the room. “What in hell’s name do you think you’re doing?” he demanded furiously. He pulled a small energy weapon from its holster on his belt and pointed it at The Doctor.
It took under a second for Lois to disarm him. She removed its power cell and handed it back to him, enjoying the astonished look on his face as she did so. Without stopping his work with the manacle, The Doctor smiled at her briefly and then turned to the captain. “I don’t think I take orders from drug traffickers, Mr. Williamson.”
This had a far greater effect on Williamson than being disarmed by a news reporter. Lois thought that he seemed to shrink in size as he realized that he had been found out. “That’s Captain Williamson,” he said in a small voice.
“Not if I don’t want you to be. Well, not for long anyway.” With a clang the manacle fell to the floor. Tom, despite his obvious fear, could not help leaning forward and rubbing the skin where he has been bound.
The Doctor got to his feet and turned to Lois. “Could you please go and find Miss Huygens and Mrs. Reicher and meet us in the Captain’s quarters, Lois.”
A few minutes later, Lois arrived with the two ladies, just in time to hear the tail-end of an outburst from The Captain.
“…and why is it that, of all the places on the ship, you insist on gathering people here, in my private quarters?”
“Because it is the place that is most like a drawing room,” said The Doctor, by way of an answer.
Lois smiled at all the blank expressions. The Doctor must be older than he looked if he had read an Agatha Christie novel.
Mary Reicher was peering round the room with indignation. “That is not the material point. Why have you brought us all here?” she demanded.
The Doctor eyed her carefully. “Because there has been a murder,” he began, “And I wanted to have everyone involved…” At this Mrs. Reicher began to splutter an angry response, but The Doctor held up his hand to stop her. “…however peripherally,” he continued, “Together in the same place.”
Lois looked around the room, interested to see who The Doctor considered “involved.” As well as the Captain, The Doctor had brought both Linda and Tom from the kitchen. Miss Huygens and Mrs. Reicher made five. Los could not help but be a little smug: of all the people on the ship they had narrowed it down to five already. She regarded with interest the fact that only Miss Huygens looked surprised by the mention of a murder.
The Doctor wondered over to a large armchair and made himself comfortable in it. He was clearly putting on a bit of a show. “Earlier this evening Admiral Reicher was found dead in one of the observation bays. He had a knife in his back. Being rather deaf, anyone could easily have caught him unawares. A short while later someone attempted to poison Mrs. Reicher in her room. I believe that these two attacks were carried out by the same person.” he paused for breath, before going on. “In both cases we have been able to narrow down the suspects to the three of you.” he pointed to The Captain, Mrs. Reicher and Linda in turn.
Mrs. Reicher was not happy about this at all. “Why would I try and poison myself?” she said angrily.
“Thank you for volunteering to go first, Mrs. Reicher,” said The Doctor. “We’ll get to that bit later, but let us start at the beginning. You were angry with your husband because you thought he was having an affair. You were right, of course,” he gave a significant look at Miss Huygens, who looked at her feet, “And you were clearly lying about your whereabouts at the time of the murder. As to the poisoning: that was clearly botched on purpose. Maybe you just wanted to throw us off your scent.
Mrs. Reicher was not happy about this line of reasoning. Angry tears started to form in the corner of her eyes. “I did not kill my husband!” she shouted.
“No, you didn’t,” The Doctor confirmed. “At the time of your husband’s death you were rummaging around Miss Huygens’ personal effects in an attempt to prove that she was having an affair with him.”
Lois was glad that she was standing between Miss Huygens and Mrs. Reicher, because she felt that a fight may break out between them at any moment.
The Doctor sat in silence for a moment and the turned to Williamson. “Captain, your turn,” he began. The captain’s back stiffened in anticipation. The Doctor went on: “It’s no secret that you disliked Reicher and did not want him on your boat.”
“I didn’t dislike him enough to kill him,” retorted Williamson.
“Of course not, you were busy checking up on your sixteen tons of doxin seeds in the cargo bay.
The Doctor already had everyone’s rapt attention, but now it was doubled. Lois vaguely knew that the popular and highly illegal street drug, Doxie was made from refined doxin seeds. The species was native to Cothos minor and only grew there, and the drug was only potent for a few days after manufacture, meaning that there was a thriving black market in the seeds between the two planets. It was not easy though: the seeds had to be kept within a strict temperature band or their narcotic properties would be destroyed.
Even though he was aware that The Doctor knew he was trafficking drugs, Williamson was obviously taken aback by the extent of The Doctor’s knowledge. “How did you…”
The Doctor interrupted him impatiently. “Because they’re one of the only things worth smuggling from Minor to Major in this time that requires such frequent attention. It is not important though, as it does not get us any closer to who did kill the Admiral.” He let that hang in the air for a moment as he once again produced some celery and munched on it, before going on. “You trained as a lawyer, didn’t you, Miss Huygens?”
Slightly taken aback by The Doctor’s sudden change of tack, she took a few seconds to answer. “Yes, I took a degree in law.”
“Perhaps you could tell us a bit about inheritance law on Cothos Major.”
Again, there was a short confused silence, before, “Yes, I suppose so.”
“Is it possible to write your children out of your will on Major?”
“No, that’s pretty much common knowledge,” said Miss Huygens, “Almost everyone on Major knows that no matter what, at least 15% of your parents’ wealth will be divided equally between you and your siblings. Spouses and other close relatives are similar, but …”
The Doctor cut her off. “Thank you, Miss Huygens. That is all I really wanted to know. Why did you lie to me earlier, Tom?” he asked, “Did she ask you to?”
Tom could not make eye contact with The Doctor, but peered down at his feet as he nodded.
“Linda was not in the kitchen when you said she was, was she?”
Eyes still down, Tom shook his head.
The Doctor changed tack again. “How long have you known that Mary Reicher was your mother, Linda?”
Linda Mathews looked close to tears as she replied. “I was about seven. We were sometimes given old news stories to help teach up to read. I was given one about a famous admiral getting married.”
Lois felt a chill go down her spine at the thought of a society where members of the military were thought of as celebrities in the same class as pop stars. Earth wasn’t so bad after all, she thought.
Linda rummaged around in the folds of her rags and brought out a battered, grubby and faded photograph of a much younger Mary holding a tiny baby. “I recognized the photo right away,” she said, crying in earnest now.
The Doctor looked sternly at her. “And when you had the opportunity to exact revenge on her for giving you up to a life of slavery you decided to take it.” Linda nodded as The Doctor went on. “But you decided to get rid of The Admiral first so that she would be sole possessor of his fortune, 15% of which would then pass to you.” Again she nodded. “You knew he was surrounded by rumors of hideous war crimes, so you thought that killing him would not dent your conscience, but after committing the crime you found that you were wrong about that. When it came to your mother’s turn you balked, and consciously or not did not use nearly enough poison.”
The Captain had heard enough. He seized Linda by the wrist and started dragging her out the door.
The Doctor did not move, caught Lois’ eye and gestured subtly towards the door with the remains of his celery stick. She took the hint and quietly moved between it and the captain while The Doctor asked, “Where do you think you are taking her, Captain?”
The Captain seemed surprised that anyone had to ask. “To the airlock,” he said, “I’m not having a murderous slave on my ship.”
Two voices shouted, “No!” at exactly the same time, and Tom and Mrs. Reicher both ran over to the door and blacked it.
The Doctor stood up slowly. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” he said. “I will be leaving your ship before you land, and I will be happy to take Miss Mathews with me. You can tell the authorities that you threw her out of the airlock when they investigate the admiral’s death if you like. It will explain why the cargo bay airlock was opened during flight.”
The Captain cottoned on to what The Doctor was saying very quickly. “You expect me to throw 16 tons of doxin seeds into space? That’s a small fortune!”
“Yes, since its half of my condition for not informing the authorities about them.”
The captain looked as though he was considering threatening The Doctor with force, but then his eyes flicked to Lois. It was obvious the memory of her disarming him was still fresh in his mind. He only had a few soldiers on board. “And the other half?” he said carefully.
“That you adopt Tom here. That you claim he was your own son, away at a private school on Minor, and that you treat him as if this were true. That you feed him and house him and clothe him properly, and see to it that he gets the finest education in the system.”
The Captain looked rather surprised by this demand, but after a short pause he seemed to decide that this it was not an unreasonable one and nodded. “Alright. He has always been a fine servant.”
The Doctor smiled. “Right then! Everyone back to the party.”
Linda and Lois stayed behind with The Doctor as the others filed out. She doubted that any of them would return to the festivities, but would try and find a place to be alone. As Mary Reicher passed him, The Doctor reached out and held her gently by the shoulder. “When you are ready, we will come,” he said.
Once they were gone Lois turned to The Doctor. “What did you mean when you said you would be leaving the ship before it landed?” she asked.
A wide grin spread across The Doctor’s face. “Would you like to see?” he asked.
Whatever it was Lois was expecting The Doctor to do, it was not to march a short way down the corridor, open a concealed broom cupboard and point significantly to a blue box that she vaguely recognized from her last trip to London.
“You got onboard in a 1950s British police box?” she said incredulously.
“Sort of,” he replied, as he rummaged in his pocket.
Even Linda, who appeared to be in a state of shock, was downright taken aback by the presence of this object in the cupboard.
The Doctor produced a key with a flourish, opened the door of the box and stepped in, gesturing for the others to follow. As soon as she stepped inside Lois felt nostalgic. The Doctor was looking at her as if he was expecting her to say something obvious, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction: you didn’t live with Lex Luthor for a year without experiencing spacial distortion several times. Linda now seemed beyond shock, and simply found herself a corner to huddle in. Lois could not help feeling more than a little sympathy for her, despite knowing what she had done. “What are you going to do with her? Take her to a prison, or something?”
The Doctor looked up from what appeared to be a control panel in the centre of the room. “If I happen to land in the middle of a prison I’ll consider it, but no, probably not.” When Lois simply waited for further explanation he went on: “As far as I’m concerned the purpose of a justice system is not to punish crime, but prevent it. Even if I thought Linda was a danger to society, she wouldn’t pose a danger here in the TARDIS, and given that she couldn’t bring herself to kill the person responsible for her slavery I don’t think she is. A threat, that is.”
Lois could feel her face crumple as she tried to think of a retort to this. The Doctor clearly noticed.
“Do you think the way you disarmed the captain escaped my notice? You clearly have done things much more violent than stab a man. Do you really feel comfortable condemning Linda? And as for me…” He let his voice tail off and then sighed. “I’ve been responsible for genocides. I will not pass judgment on this child.”
Lois could not argue with that. “Look on the bright side, Doctor,” she said, “You freed two slaves today.”
The Doctor smiled. “With any luck I’ve done a bit more than that.”
Lois did not understand. “What do you mean,” she asked.
“This is not the first time I’ve met Tom. Well, it was for him. In a way. Time travel makes such a mess of chronology.”
Lois was still confused, and her facial expression clearly said as much. “I’ve been to Cothos before, about forty years from now,” The Doctor continued. “When Tom Williamson was a highly respected politician who played a large part in the freeing of the slaves.”
Despite her copious intelligence, Lois found The Doctor’s casual disregard for causality deeply confusing. She decided not to ask any more for the moment. “Where are you heading?” she asked instead.
“I don’t really know,” replied The Doctor. “Is there anywhere you would like to go?”
Lois thought about her life on Cothos. She thought about her crummy apartment. She thought about her crummy job with the boss she hated. She thought about all the gossip columns she was going to have to write, and all the real stories she wouldn’t be allowed to. “Anywhere but here,” she said eventually.
“Are you sure this is where you want to be. I could take you back to the 21st century if you wanted.”
Lois looked around at the elegant curved skyscrapers and lanes of beautifully kept trees that towered above her. She had never seen a city that was quite as pleasant to walk around as this one. “This is wonderful, thank you. Besides, the 21st century already had a Lois Lane, I wouldn’t want this one to miss out.”
The Doctor smiled. “So back to real reporting then?”
Lois thought about it for half a second. “No,” she said, “I think I rather enjoyed being a detective.”
Some Notes (Everyone loves notes)
Firstly, and rather obviously I do not own the rights to either The Doctor or Robot Lois Lane, they are owned by the BBC and DC comics respectively.
Secondly, you may have noticed that The Doctor is rather more cheerful than he was in Scream of the Shalka. My excuse is that this is set a good 100 years or so (in The Doctor’s time line) later, and he’s cheered up a bit. I mostly used Richard E Grant’s other appearance as The Doctor in The Curse of Fatal Death as a referance to how Cheerful Shalka Doctor might behave.
That’s all for now!
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