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Camera Obscura - A Doctor Who short story

EH Walter


CAMERA OBSCURA

  A DOCTOR WHO SHORT

  BY EH WALTER

  “Doctor Who is a trademark of the BBC, story and original characters are copyright 2015 EH Walter, all rights reserved.”

  They were like birds. Large, black birds – shadowy descendants of pterodactyls – gathered in the shadows and out of sight. A movement from one of them could be dismissed as a trick of the light – the mind placing tricks with the shadows of the night. They were hungry. Ravenous. And they could feel their next meal getting close. A rip in time. Juicy energy waiting to be consumed. Gathered around one special person. A person with the potential to change the world. All they had to do was find a way through and then they could begin their feast.

  The faint breeze that carried the leaves against the wind was the only sign of the arrival of the blue box as it set down in the middle of Prince’s Park, materialising out of the air. The Japanese tourists, lost on their way up to the castle, paid it no attention such was the power of the blue box designed to go unnoticed – even in a world where no blue boxes remained outside museums.

  “Have you never tried to change it?” Clara asked as she opened the door and stepped out into the park, “I mean – it’s meant to be camouflaged. Sure, it might have worked fifty years ago – but now?”

  “I like blue,” her companion said as he followed her out and closed the door to the TARDIS, locking it with a key. “I did once think about going for a red telephone box – do you think that would be better?”

  “Again, Doctor – years out of date.”

  “Well what do you suggest? A photobooth?”

  Clara shook her head. “You are so out of date.”

  “I should hope so too, maybe you will be as well when you are over nine hundred years old. Anyway, I like blue – it’s distinctive – so blue it stays.” He patted the box protectively. “Do you think she sounded a bit off? Like she had a cold or something?”

  “The TARDIS with a cold?”

  “Well, she doesn’t sound right anyway.”

  “It sounded fine to me. Now where are we? You said I was going to get a dose of culture.”

  “I think what I actually said was you should see some more of your own country and own time. And I have to come here once in a while to do a little job. Guess where we are.”

  Clara turned in a three sixty, taking in her surroundings.

  “Got it yet?”

  As she turned for a second time a cyclist dressed entirely in neon yellow bore down on her.

  “Watch it!” he cried, his accent distinctive.

  “Sorry!” Clara said.

  “Tourist!” the cyclist muttered as he sped off.

  “You shouldn’t be cycling in the park anyway!” She called out. She turned to the Doctor. “Scotland. And by the look of that rather big castle up there and that monument over there – Edinburgh. At last, somewhere that matches your accent.”

  “You should try a new accent, it’s most refreshing. Almost as good as a new face. This way.”

  Clara followed him off through the park, matching his fast pace even though his legs were much longer than hers. “Well I hope your dose of culture doesn’t include Irn Bru and deep fried Mars bar.”

  “Do you always believe stereotypes, Clara?”

  “Well what are we here for?”

  “The oldest purpose built tourist attraction in Edinburgh.”

  “Huh?”

  “The Camera Obscura.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a projection of the city inside a small room.”

  “This city, the one we are walking through now?”

  “Yes.”

  “The one I can see without being in a small room and walking up a large hill?”

  The Doctor nodded innocently. “Yes. And it’s not just any hill – it’s the Royal Mile.”

  “If it makes you happy, Doctor.”

  “There it is.”

  The Doctor paused for effect. Clara stopped and looked up. A tall, grey tenement building stood before them. As she looked up she saw the grey stone ended and mounted at the very top was a round building built of white with black edging and crenelated like a parapet. Above this was a brown dome.

  The Doctor looked at Clara expectantly.

  She frowned for a second and then said: “Woah?”

  “Exactly!” and he turned on his heels and approached the building, heading straight past the queue of tourists – psychic paper in hand. “Camera Obscura Inspector coming through…”

  Clara sunk into her shoulders as she queue jumped. “Sorry…” she said, “…with him…”

  The Doctor was already at the ticket office where he was thrusting his psychic paper into the ticket seller’s face.

  “Honestly Doctor,” Clara said, reaching into her bag, “you are so cheap!” She put a hand out and pushed the psychic paper back towards him. “I’ll get this.” Smiling brightly at the salesman she said: “two please,” and took the tickets he offered along with an information leaflet. She opened the leaflet but managed to read no more than the first paragraph before the doctor was off again.

  “Come on!” the Doctor said enthusiastically, “Let’s go through the Magic Gallery.”

  “Is this trip for me, or for you?”

  “Giant plasma balls, Clara! Giant. Plasma. Balls.”

  “Very pretty,” she said absently as she placed her hand on the glass. Pink bursts of light jumped up to the edge, meeting her palm and fingers.

  “Woo!” the Doctor said, making pink lightning jump across another ball. “Oh come on Clara, lighten up!”

  “I would,” she muttered, “if I didn’t always feel like your babysitter.”

  Releasing the plasma ball he reached for her hand and dragged her to the doorway. He paused on the threshold and arched his eyebrows.

  “You’re like a little boy sometimes,” she said softly.

  “Just sometimes?” he said and led her into the Camera Obscura room.

  It was dark and in the centre of the room was a white inverted disc, like a large dinner plate, upon which the streets outside were being projected.

  “Everybody out please,” the Doctor said loudly, brandishing his paper, “routine inspection.” And with his hands he shuffled everyone out of the door as if they were unwanted pigeons on a monument. “Go on, go on!” He turned back to Clara, a wide smile on his face. “Isn’t it amazing?”

  “But what possible use is it?” she asked.

  “Aw, Clara – do things always have to have a use? Can’t we just do things because we can? That’s what I like about you humans – why stop at doing what you must – do something just because you can, for the fun of it. Imagine what this has seen since it’s construction in the Victorian era.”

  “We could have just gone to the Victorian era to see it.”

  “There are things worth seeing in any era, Clara, even yours.” He referred to his watch. “And I need to be here… now.”

  “It’s just, when you persuaded me to take another trip with you I didn’t realise we would be coming here. I could have got a train here and they make better tea than you do.”

  “No one makes better tea than I do.” He looked around, “Hey, do you want to see something very cool?”

  “How cool can you go?” she muttered sarcastically.

  His answer was a wink and he reached into his pocket for his sonic screwdriver. He fiddled with it’s settings and pointed it to the roof. “I can play with the abundant energy in this room. The Victorian era, m’lady.”

  The image on the disc changed, the people moved around and changed.
Skirts became longer and horses appeared.

  Clara leaned over the large, white circle. “To be honest, Doctor, it doesn’t look much different.”

  He leaned over her shoulder. “No, I suppose not. Well, we are in the Old Town. Perhaps I can send it further afield?”

  With another press of the sonic screwdriver the image changed again, this time it was zooming out so everything got smaller. Then it refocused on another town and zoomed in.

  “Again, Doctor, something I could do on my iPad with Google Earth.”

  The Doctor pursed his lips and then leant closer to Clara. “You want to see something really different?”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “I’ll take that as a yes then. You see, when this was built it served one very clear purpose.”

  “And that was?”

  “Think about where we are – the oldest part of Edinburgh – seat of the Scottish kings. This spot was not just chosen for being a huge great rock suitable for building a castle on, it’s also a well.”

  “A well?”

  “A well.”

  “That’s nothing new. Settlements always needed wells.”

  “Ah, but this is not a water well. This is an energy well. It draws up from the earth and gives out energy. It’s quite amazing really. No wonder some of those kings ruled for so long and were so strong. The well energised them. It draws upon the Earth and all time.”

  “If they were so strong why aren’t they still here?”

  He flicked his hand dismissively. “Touchy subject, Jacobites, Act of Union et cetera, et cetera…”

  “And you are here to inspect this well? Why?”

  “It leaks. I come along every fifty-five years to make sure it is still plugged. It hasn’t given anyone any problems since it first leaked in