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‘So you’re telling me that human traditions actually made it into space?’ Donna raised an eyebrow.
‘Mmm-hm!’ said the Doctor, busy keying in the coordinates of their next destination.
‘Like what? You’re saying there’s some alien planet out there with tinsel-covered trees and a bunch of three-eyed nutters singing Carol of the Bells way off-key?’
‘Oh, hundreds of them! And not just trees and carolling. We’re talking full-blown fake snow, blinking lights, presents, novelty jumpers with anywhere from two to a hundred and sixty-five openings… Some species even invented their own Father Christmas.’ He whirled around the console, pushing buttons and pulling levers. ‘Though the version on Vega VI simply eats the naughty children, which is quite fairytale-like—literally—but really not very festive.’
‘Right. Lovely.’ Donna made a face. ‘Remind me never to ask you to take me there—Christmas or not.’ She shook her head. ‘Anything else humans infected the universe with? Easter bunnies? Carnival? Tripping over your own feet for no reason, just to look like a complete plonker?’
‘Oh, tripping’s a universal hit!’ the Doctor exclaimed. ‘Not that every species has legs—but if they did, I swear it’d be top ten. No, but the real stunner? TV shows.’
‘You’re winding me up.’
‘Wouldn’t dare. But seriously—where do you think all your old telly signals go, hmm? They keep going. Right through the atmosphere. Straight into space. And you’ve been sending them out for decades! No wonder others started picking them up and having a look.’
‘So what, some alien couch potato’s sitting there binge-watching Only Fools and Horses with six eyes and a packet of space crisps?’
‘Exactly!’ The Doctor beamed. ‘Though they prefer Coronation Street on Caldrax. And Graham Norton. Absolute icon. Whole cult around him on Ares Beta.’
‘You’re making this up.’ She folded her arms. ‘All because I once told you I bullied my parents into letting me stay up for the Eurovision final.’
‘Not making it up!’ he insisted. ‘In fact, in about two hundred years, they start broadcasting a version from a space station. To the whole sector. Sparkly costumes, dodgy lyrics, key changes galore! Brilliant!’ His eyes were taking on that childlike sparkle again. ‘Happy people all around. Love it, really. No wonder they picked it up from you lot. Ohhh, I always wanted to go there and watch it. Must be phenomenal.’
Donna squinted at him. ‘You’re telling me there’s a Spacevision Song Contest? And Graham Norton—or his space version—is hosting it?’
The Doctor waved her off. ‘Nah, don’t be ridiculous! Graham’s long gone by the time they start. No, Rylan Clark hosts it, obviously.’
‘Obviously.’
The Doctor looked at Donna’s blank face, and shrugged. ‘Guess he’s not a thing in your time yet. But the universe loves him.’ The Doctor scratched his head. ‘Though I think there’s a museum at Harmony Arena where they keep all kinds of memorabilia—including Graham.’ Donna made a face, so he added: ‘Or rather, his hologram.’
She stared at him for a long moment, then deadpanned, ‘You haven’t lost all the screwdrivers in your toolbox, have you?’
‘It’s not my fault! Ever tried keeping things in order in a dimensionally transcendental space? It’s impossible. Besides, I even have a sonic screwdriver—and you know that!’
Donna said nothing for a moment, her brow furrowed. Then, with a slightly softer expression, she added, ‘You know, I wouldn’t mind stopping by sometime—just to see what it’s like.’
The Doctor looked like a little boy she’d just promised sweets. ‘Certainly! Just… let’s hope they never let anyone from Grimbald compete. They’re good, don’t get me wrong—but their songs are total earworms. They’ll get stuck in your head for ages. Ask Satoshi Taijiri—he almost went mad because of them.’
Donna blinked. ‘Do I want to hear that story?’
‘Oh, it’s a good one! All he wanted was a bit of inspiration for a funny little video game he was developing. Early nineties, Earth time. So I took him round some places in the Virgo Cluster. He really liked the Grimbaldians. Lovely folk. Very inspirational. But tiny vocabulary—mostly just say their own names, in all sorts of intonations. Which are mainly happiness and joy, I might add. But our timing was a bit… unlucky.’
‘Let me guess—you blew something up?’
‘Would never!’ exclaimed the Doctor, eyes wide with innocence.
Donna didn’t believe him for a second.
‘It was quite the opposite. When we landed on Grimbald, they were having a festival—and everyone suddenly started singing. I think that tune’s still stuck in Satoshi’s head. Definitely still stuck in here.’ The Doctor tapped his temple. ‘Messes with my head sometimes.’
Donna smirked. ‘Well, that explains a few things.’
‘Doesn’t it just?’
‘Has anyone ever told you that what messes with other people’s head is actually your babbling?’ Donna teased.
‘All the time!’ the Doctor replied cheerfully.
Donna just rolled her eyes. ‘Anyway, I don’t see you moving—except your mouth, that is.’ She jabbed her finger at his chest. ‘I’m still waiting on that spa holiday you promised me. Massages. Mud masks. Saunas. Fancy cocktails with little umbrellas. Ringing a bell?’
‘Right!’ He snapped back to action, flipping a few switches and slamming down the dematerialisation lever. The TARDIS gave its familiar wheeze and groan, while the glowing time rotor rose and fell.
‘Honestly, after all we’ve been through, I want one planet—just one—where no one’s screaming, mutating, or trying to upload me. Is that really too much to ask?’ she huffed. ‘We’ve been to planets full of slavery, haunted libraries and—not to forget—inside a volcano on volcano day. Seriously, you owe me bubbles and scented towels.’
‘Donna Noble,’ the Doctor said, grinning as the rotor slowed, ‘prepare to be amazed. There’s no better place to relax in the entire universe.’
There was an audible clang, and the ancient engines of the TARDIS fell silent. They had arrived.
‘The entire planet is so beautiful, you’ll be speechless—which, coming from you, is saying something.’
She just gave him a pointed look. Still, the prospect of a magnificent planet full of scenic views and wellness facilities brought a smile to her lips.
The Doctor held out his arm invitingly. ‘Come on! I’m sure we’ll have a blast on Midnight!’