Tales, Ch. 13
The Master flashed a smile at his captives while rubbing his hands together, hardly able to contain his satisfaction.
“Rumplestiltskin,” the Doctor mused unhappily. “If that’s the case I’m sure you’d love a game of some sort, in exchange for our freedom.”
“I do love a game,” the Master replied. “And a bargain, and a gamble, and a trick. I hope you’re as full of surprises as you seem. You’ll have to tell me how you managed to fly over my most formidable river.”
“Maybe some other time,” the Doctor replied. “For now, I’d like to expedite my stay here, and get my friends back home to their families as soon as possible, so I’d like to propose a game of wits.”
“And the stakes?” the Master asked with interest.
“My freedom or my life,” the Doctor answered. “Either way, I’d like it if you sent them home now.”
“No fun without an audience,” the Master tutted.
“Then afterwards, but with your guarantee,” the Doctor countered. “Don’t let’s drag this out. I thought the Devil didn’t waste his time.”
“It’s all I’ve got!” the Master laughed, but clapped his hands and changed the room by unseen magic.
The Doctor’s friends looked around in amazement, finding themselves in a large Victorian opera house. They were seated in the front row, while the Doctor and Rumplestiltskin were standing on the stage above. Elaborate sets surrounding them placed the players outside of a provincial town, and as Amy glanced down in surprise, she saw a paper program was sitting on her lap. She squinted as she examined the title, not familiar with the story.
“What’s Faust?” she asked Rory, but he only shrugged in response.
Rose turned to note the rest of the hall had been filled with spectators, all dressed in finery and equipped with opera glasses.
“Who are all these people?” she breathed, but her companions had already turned their attention back to the stage.
The Doctor was squaring off with his opponent, trying to gauge the Master’s abilities.
“So what are the rules of this game?” the Master probed as secondary cast members milled around the set.
“It’s just a simple guessing game,” the Doctor replied. “With a question you already know the answer to.”
“Doesn’t sound like much of a challenge,” the Master replied crossly. “I thought we were going to have fun.”
“Oh but we will,” the Doctor answered. “You only get three guesses, and after that, you have to send me and my friends home.”
“Very well,” the Master agreed. “Ask your question.”
The Doctor smiled knowingly and crossed his arms. “What is my name?”
The Master’s mouth twitched as he answered. “The Doctor, obviously. I’ve heard your friends call you that a thousand times.”
“Wrong,” the Doctor corrected. “That’s my title. What’s my name?”
The Master’s eyebrows shot up as he draped one hand underneath his chin. He thought silently to himself for a few moments before stamping his foot.
“That’s not fair!” he shouted. “How shall I guess your name out of millions of others? It could be anything! It could be Octavian for all I know!”
“Tut tut,” the Doctor replied. “That’s two guesses already. Neither is correct.”
“That doesn’t count!” the Master objected childishly.
“Who knew outwitting Beelzebub would be so easy?” the Doctor continued. “It’s disappointing, really.”
The Master screamed in anger as he threw over a nearby cart and spilled the contents all over the dirty floor. The actress nearby ran shrieking from her wares, nearly running into another actor as she went.
“Wait!” the Master said hastily. “You said I already knew the answer, so somehow I must know what your name is.”
“You certainly do,” the Doctor replied. “You must remember. If Rose knows the story about me, then you must know it too.”
The Doctor bit his lip hopefully as the Master ruminated. He didn’t want his enemy to actually speak his name, but he did hope to reveal more about the missing stories that formed such a mysterious element of his being in this bizarre world, and how he had become implicated in the mythology.
“A story? About the Doctor?” the Master asked himself aloud. He appeared to lose himself in thought as he struggled to remember. “The Doctor and his blue box, soaring across the stars,” he added.
The Doctor nodded curiously as the Master looked up at him.
“I do remember your story,” the Master said. “Your adventures through time and space. Time and relative dimension…”
Rose sat up in her chair and leaned forward, parts of the story coming back to her as the Master spoke. Amy glanced at Rory, suddenly remembering herself.
“We’re traveling with THE Doctor?” Amy said in disbelief.
“From Gallifrey,” Rory added, his own disbelief mirroring hers.
The Master laughed suddenly, a dark look overcoming his features even as he chuckled.
“I remember now,” he gloated. “I remember everything! But most of all, I remember your name. Tardis!”
The Doctor blew upward, floating his bangs for a fraction of a second before shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Nope, sorry. I’m afraid you’ve got to send us back as you promised. Now will do, thank you very much.”
“What?” the Master demanded. “But I got it! Your name has to be Tardis! I remember from the story!”
“You remember the name of my ship,” the Doctor supplied, “or actually, her title. Her name is Sexy. You didn’t even get that. Look, we’ve really got to be off. If you don’t mind?”
“You tricked me!” the Master screamed. “I’m going to destroy you!”
“Not part of the bargain!” the Doctor shouted back. “Don’t tell me Rumplestiltskin backs out of a losing game. Now send us back, before I stop asking nicely.”
The Master was taken aback by the threat in his immanent domain, as well as the accusation of not playing by his own rules.
“I’m not unsporting!” the Master said defensively. “I promised to send you back and I will, but don’t think this is over, Doctor. I’ll see you again. Next time, on my terms.”
“I’m sure,” the Doctor scowled.
He blinked, and in the second it took to reopen his eyes, found himself standing in the field at Mickey’s farm again. His companions were spread out around him, each surveying the landscape with varying degrees of shock.
“We’re back here?” Amy questioned. “Was he telling the truth, then?”
“It would appear so,” Rory replied.
Rose shook the hay off her dirty red cape as she stood, and turned to the Doctor with concern.
“Are you alright?” she asked. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” the Doctor replied quickly. “But he did alert me to something particularly troublesome.”
He reached into his satchel and pulled out the forgotten storybook before thumbing through its contents. Rory and Amy came to stand nearby as they looked on, worried about what the Doctor was doing.
He flipped past all the familiar stories of Peter Pan and Gulliver’s Travels, among others. Finally, he landed on the page he’d been looking for, if not dreading.
“What is that?” Amy asked anxiously. “What’s wrong?”
“Something I’ve suspected for a while,” the Doctor mumbled as he held up the book, allowing his companions to see the illustration on the title page.
“It the blue box!” Amy said happily.
“Yes,” the Doctor nodded curtly. “It appears I’m in the book. Your memory of a story about me must be accurate.”
Rose’s curious hand was already flipping the page, unnoticed by the brooding Doctor.
“But I’m in here too,” she said with a start as she pointed to a drawing of herself on the way to her grandmother’s house. “What does that mean?”
“We’re all in the book,” the Doctor revealed. “So it means my initial theory has been replaced. I’d once thought the book was a receptacle of some kind for fictional stories, which could be enacted within the reality of a reader…myself, in this case, given your familiar manifestations. Whatever entity behind the phenomenon remains to be seen. However, the appearance of my own story is rather unsettling.”
“I’m afraid I’m not totally following you,” Rory interjected, “but I’ve also a notion that you don’t really care.”
“Correct,” the Doctor replied. “No offense, of course.”
“Right,” Rory said agreeably.
“Why would your story be any different than the rest of us?” Amy protested. “I don’t see why that would matter!”
The Doctor flinched as he withdrew before throwing up his hands dramatically.
“Because I’m real, Amy! Everything around me is just stories and memories intertwined! Yourself, Rose and Rory are manifestations of people I used to travel with, just like so many of the others we’ve met. I’ve even run into previous versions of myself! It’s like I’ve gone mad!” he cried.
Amy tried to mask the hurt she was feeling from the Doctor’s outburst, and nodded her head patiently instead.
“Okay,” she said solemnly. “Let’s say that’s true. This is all taking place in your mind, perhaps. What are you going to do next?”
The Doctor stared at his friends and read the same question in all of their faces.
“I’m going to do the only thing I know how to do,” he said, relaxing a little even as he began to think once more. “I’m going to save the world…whatever version of it this is. Then I'll figure everything else out...hopefully.”
Rose stepped up and took his hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Then let’s get to work,” she agreed.