Verdigris [Chapter 25 - draft]
It was sometime later, after the thrilling, extraordinary affair of the Three Doctors (in which Doctors One Two and Three were reunited somewhere over the rainbow in a nightmarish universe of antimatter to defeat a common and lunatic foe) that the Doctor eventually regained his freedom.
As a reward for saving their bacon (and not mentioning a word of it to anyone) the august (not to say hypocritical) Time Lords of Gallifrey granted the Doctor back the use of his TARDIS.
He was free to roam once more.
He hopped gleefully back into his Police Box and plugged the brand-spanking-new dematerialisation circuit into the console and it went in like a dream.
The various, rather complicated codes he needed in order to pilot the ship slipped back into his head with exactly the same sensation as a dream coming back to you, the morning after you’ve dreamed it.
He took Jo Grant by the hand and offered her, at last, that quick whiz around the galaxy he’d been promising her for so long.
The Brigadier didn’t fancy it. His feet were staying firmly on the floor.
Jo clambered aboard the police box and dressed up especially for the occasion, though she fully expected to be flung straight into another terrifying adventure.
But to her surprise however, the TARDIS materialised with blissful ease, inside a bar.
It was a swanky cocktail joint on a farflung outpost, and it was full of the most extraordinary creatures she had ever seen.
Some of them even waved acknowledgement at the Doctor. The barman winked and welcomed him back.
The Doctor grinned at her. ‘I’m a citizen of the universe, all over again!’
At the end of the bar, though, where they stood to order cocktails of the like, the Doctor promised, she had never tasted in her life, they found themselves confronting two rather familiar faces.
Tom and Iris were sitting at the bar with drinks of their own. Iris was in a low-cut black dress and perched high up on a bar stool. She lit a cigarette and looked the Doctor up and down.
‘You took your time getting here,’ she said.
And that night, celebrating, becoming friends again, they all got rather drunk.
They last saw Tom dragging Iris out to the carpark, where the bus was waiting. Iris was singing Shirley Bassey songs again.
Jo had forgotten to ask what had become of the Meercocks and the Children of Destiny. But she supposed there would be time enough in the future. She was sure she would see them again.
Likewise, Iris, in her cups, had neglected to ask what had become of Verdigris.
And, as the Doctor and Jo tottered happily back into the now fully-functional, gleaming white space of the TARDIS console room, he was waiting for them.
‘You!’ cried the Doctor as the doors slid closed. He sobered immediately.
Verdigris lifted his head slowly and gave them both a ghastly smile.
‘I hope you’re not here to cause more trouble,’ said Jo.
The green man shook his head. ‘I came to congratulate you, Doctor. Iris was right. You deserve to be out here. Out in the galaxy. Your time isn’t over yet.’
Then the green drained out of him like dirty water from a bath and his bulky silhouette hovered for a moment in the bright white air.
‘Farewell, Doctor, Farewell Jo. Bon Voyage!’
Then he was gone.
Jo and the Doctor both stared at the green, desolate dust he had left behind on the shining floor.
Then, without a word, the Doctor turned to the control console and expertly flipped the switch that would send them both spinning off into another exciting adventure.
paul magrs
norwich, September 1999
