Chapter Text
“And come to think of it, where did I put my list,” said the Doctor, and began scrabbling through his pockets, passing odds and ends to Jamie to hold until his hands were quite full. “Ah, here we are!” he said, and, leaving Jamie clutching his bits and pieces to his chest, began to read, “transistors – mm-hmm – circuit board – flurocity coils –”
“What-city?” muttered Jamie, juggling a tennis ball and a magnifying glass.
“Well, they’re – oh, it would take too long to explain,” said the Doctor. He folded the list and tucked it into his top pocket, patting it for safe-keeping. His eye fell on Jamie’s laden hands. “Oh, good gracious.” He began taking his bits back, putting them carefully into the right pockets.
“Oh, aye. Best not,” said Jamie as his hands emptied. “I still dinnae understand what’s gone wrong with the TARDIS.”
“The metrical relativity circuits,” said the Doctor. He’d said that so many times now that Jamie could recite the words, but he didn’t have the slightest idea what it meant. “You see, units of measurement are relative –”
“Aye, see,” said Jamie, “every time you start of sayin’ something’s relative, that’s how I know I’m nae goin’ to follow it.”
“It’s really perfectly simple,” said the Doctor hotly. “Relative just means – ah, here we are.” They rounded a corner into a street of shut-up shops.
“It all looks closed,” Jamie said, peering doubtfully down the street. Was it night-time? He couldn’t tell. There were stars overhead, but that wasn’t the night sky, just the view through the vast glass dome that covered the place. This was a space-port, which he gathered was something like a trading post out among the stars. Built on a desolate wee planet only because it was a stopping-off point between two nicer planets.
“There’s always somewhere open selling parts, even at this hour,” said the Doctor. He finished fussing with his pockets and strutted down the road. “Do come on.”
Sure enough, not far down the road was a lit-up shop. The writing all up and down the window looked, to Jamie’s eyes, to be half a dozen or more different languages. He could pick out words made up of squares and other ones all made of spirals. “Is this it?” he said.
“Hmm, you see?” The Doctor pointed up at a sigil above the window, a circle with a complex web of straights lines inside it. “Universal symbol for a parts shop,” he said as if imparting a great secret. “We’ll get what we want here. You’ll see.”
He sauntered up the steps, Jamie at his heels. The door slid open for them, and they stepped into the brightly-lit interior. It was packed with obscure odds and ends of all shapes and colours, like a dragon’s cave, and –
Behind the counter, turning to face them, was a monster. It had a wedge-shaped head and vast, watery eyes – no mouth at all that Jamie could see – fingers like big leathery spiders stretched out across the glass counter-top.
Every part of Jamie tensed, priming for a fight. His heart leapt. He reached for his dirk, but before he could do more than brush it with his fingers, the Doctor took him by the shoulders and bundled him back towards the door. “Ever so sorry,” he called over his shoulder as Jamie let out a wordless protest.
“Hey – get off,” he said as he stumbled backwards down the steps. The Doctor released him, and he reached again for his dirk, only to have his hand slapped away. “What’re you doin’? That thing in there –”
“That thing,” the Doctor was still holding his arm, keeping his hand from his knife, “is called a Hizzhni. There’s an awful lot of them in this part of the galaxy – we’re only a few systems away from their home planet.”
“What’re we goin’ to do about it?” Jamie gabbled.
“Do?” The Doctor blinked at him. “We’re going to buy the parts we need.”
“But –”
“But what?”
The Doctor seemed truly confounded, and more than a little hurt. Jamie couldn’t understand it. Since when did they sit by and let nasty-looking beasties like that take over space ports? “But it’s horrible-looking.”
“Oh, really, now,” said the Doctor. “Imagine how strange you must look to her, you big hairless monkey, you.”
Jamie gaped, glancing down at his own body. “That’s no’ very nice.”
“No, it is not,” said the Doctor. “We don’t insult the way other species look, do we, now?”
“Aye, but –” The full force of what the Doctor has said trickled through him. “Och, you’re not tellin’ me that thing’s a woman?”
“She’s a person, Jamie,” said the Doctor. “Just a bit different-looking from what you’re used to. That’s all.” Jamie stared at him. “The Hizzhni are very pleasant people, for the most part. Thriving merchant population. Wonderful architects. They might have designed some of the buildings here, if you’d like to see.” He released Jamie’s arm. “Eh?”
Jamie gritted his teeth, and shook his head.
“Oh, look,” said the Doctor. “I know that your experiences with aliens so far haven’t been especially positive, but you must understand, most intelligent species in the universe are just people. Some of them are good and some of them are bad, and most of them are very complicated, and they might look or act a bit strange to you, but deep down you’re far more alike than different. Hmm?”
Jamie wavered, torn between trust for the Doctor and his natural revulsion. He thought of the thing’s big, wet eyes staring at him, and took a step further away from the shop.
The Doctor’s mouth pinched into a line. “Well,” he said, “if you’re going to be like that, perhaps it’s best you wait outside in case Ben and Polly come looking for us.”
“Aye,” said Jamie, folding his arms. “I’ll do that.” He turned to face the street, putting his back between himself and the shop. He heard the Doctor’s feet pattering up the steps, the swish of the door, and muffled voices.
He stood, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. He checked his dirk and found it secure. He took a deep, deep, breath, steeling himself, and followed the Doctor into the shop.
Blinking in the sudden light, he stood on the threshold. The Doctor was standing by the counter, reading his list to the alien. The alien was nodding its big head slowly and tapping the items into a thing like a wee typewriter. “– eighteen millimetre t-emitters,” he was saying, “and – oh, hallo, Jamie.”
They both looked a touch startled to see him back. “Hullo.” He raised a hand awkwardly.
The Doctor beckoned him up to the counter. “This is Jamie,” he said, “good friend of mine – Jamie, this is Zadra.”
“Good evening,” said the alien. She had a pleasant, warbling voice, like deep-toned birdsong, not at all what Jamie expected to come out of such a strange-looking face. Her tiny mouth, full of pointy teeth, vanished again as she closed it. He found himself wondering if she thought it was strange to be able to see his mouth all the time.
“Nice to meet you,” said Jamie. The alien nodded her slow head and went back to tapping her keyboard.
As the pair of them talked back and forth about parts and acceptable substitutes and pricing, Jamie let his eyes drift over the back wall, over the racks of more valuable merchandise. There was a thing dangling from the ceiling, a sort of mobile made of sea shells. Lined up along a shelf was a row of frames holding moving pictures. He peered a little closer and saw smaller wedge-headed aliens, wee ones holding funny looking toys. They were her children – or her grandchildren, he supposed. He couldn’t say how old she was. He wasn’t even sure how the Doctor could tell she was a she.
The Doctor ambled around the shop, collecting the things he needed and bringing them back to the counter for Zadra to box up nicely. He paid with a jumbled selection of coins and passed the box to Jamie to carry back to the TARDIS. “Don’t shake it,” he said as they climbed down the steps.
“I’ll try not to,” said Jamie.
The Doctor was folding his list back into his top pocket. “You were very quiet in there.”
“Aye, I suppose,” Jamie said. “It was. Strange.”
“It’ll take some getting used to.” The Doctor patted Jamie’s shoulder. “Well done. You’ve just taken your first step into a wider universe.”
“I have?”
“You have,” said the Doctor. “And next time, ask questions first. Stab later.”
Jamie’s face heated. “I wasnae really goin’ to stab her.”
“Of course you weren’t,” said the Doctor in blandest tones. “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, “you know, by the time we get those parts fitted, there’ll probably be somewhere open for breakfast.”