ENCOUNTER AT NIGHT
by
Jean-Marc LOFFICIER

 

Publication History: -- First published in Rover No. 5, 1980. The Man was walking on the beach. Far behind him, the Village slept. Even those-who-never-slept, the Supervisors, did not care about his lone escapade into the night. Where could he go? The Man known as Number 6 was walking on the beach, his face creased with deep thought-lines, thoughts of escape, of freedom... Suddenly, a wheezing, groaning noise broke the routine generated by the slow whisper of the waves. A silhouette cut against the dark horizon. There, in front of him, was materializing an anachronism, a thing that belonged to a world he had left behind: A London Police call-box. The box opened and a man got out. He was wearing a long scarf, a floppy hat and, even in the night, you could see his shining blue eyes and flashing grin. "This is not UNIT headquarters," he said seriously, looking around him with curiosity. "Who are you?" "Hello! I am the Doctor. May I enquire as to your identity, sir?" Reflexions in a paranoid mind: Who is he really? Can I trust him? Is he with them? Somehow, something in the Doctor's grin must have reached the Prisoner's soul, for the man known only as Number 6 smiled back (not one of his canary-swallowing smiles he kept for his captors) and offered his hand in trust. "I used to be called..." "Wait!" the Doctor interrupted. There is a. high energy concentration nearby. It is coming closer, closer..." Rover burst out of the sea and rolled towards them at great speed, roaring. "Fascinating," whispered the Doctor, not in the least afraid. "You know what that thing is?" Number 6 asked. "Thing? Oh. that. Yes, of course. But I never met one before on this planet. I never dreamed that some of you Earthmen were so advanced..." "Did you say 'planet?' 'Earthmen?'" "This is all very interesting, my dear fellow, but your watery friend there will cause us a lot of harm if we don't go back to the TARDIS at once. Come, follow me!" Number 6 looked at Rover which was almost on them. He had seen what the thing could do before. But... to get into a police-box? He stepped in, just as the Doctor was going to get out again to get him. Inside the box, much to his surprise, a brightly lit, advanced control room filled a space much bigger than it should have been. "Where am I?" "In the TARDIS," the Doctor answered matter-of-factly, as if it explained everything. "And just in time, I see." On the screen, Number 6 could see Rover trying to push against an invisible barrier -- without any success. "Fascinating," muttered the Doctor again. "Well, enough time lost as it is. Off we go!" He pushed a lever and a couple of buttons, and the central column started to move, up and down. The Village disappeared from the scanner picture. "Where do you want to go, Old Man?" the Doctor asked the Prisoner. "You mean, we have left the Village?" "The Village? Oh, that place. Yes, of course. We are now, er, let me see, hmm, slightly off course again in the time vortex, but nothing serious. You see, I have to go back to UNIT headquarters. It is desperately urgent. I left them in some hurry in the middle of that Giant Robot case..." And then, as an afterthought -- or an apology -- "I could not resist, you know. Regeneration does that to you sometimes." Number 6 stopped the man who called himself "Doctor" (but was he a man?) before he got totally lost in his monologue. "I know UNIT. So, you work for them?" The Doctor smiled, looking slightly apologetic again. "Well, yes. I am their scientific advisor, you see." "And we are going to London in that machine of yours?" the Prisoner said, persistent. "Yes, this 'machine,' as you put it, is extremely reliable. Aren't you (said the Doctor patting the console), Old Thing?" Suddenly, the lights blinked. A blue streak appeared on the scanner screen. "A time-leash! Incredible!" The TARDIS slowed to a standstill, then started to shudder. Like a broken stretchband, a quick backward motion snowballed into a frenzied acceleration. "What's happening, Doctor? Is something wrong?" "It is a time-leash! We are being dragged back through time to your Village." "Can we do anything about it?" The Doctor moved to another console and started to punch out buttons. "Yes, we can escape -- by disrupting totally our space-coordinates. We shall plunge into another galaxy, another universe perhaps. It is quite a strain on the TARDIS, but I will not submit..." A firm hand gripped the Doctor's arm as he was feeding in the last course changes. "No, it's me they want. Not you. The Village wants its Prisoner back." "But you can escape! Just let me fix the space-coordinates..." "Could you return us to Earth? To London? In the 20th Century?" "In time, yes. I would have to fix the TARDIS, of course, but..." "Return me to the Village and go." "But you want to be free. I can give you the freedom of the stars. You can roam with me; we will see the wonders of the Universe..." "No, Doctor, I want freedom, it is true, but I want it to be able to return and destroy the Village and all what it represents. Erase it from the face of the Earth. This is my duty, my sole responsibility, and I cannot be free from it ever. No, Doctor, I cannot take your freedom." The Doctor looked deep into the eyes of the Prisoner. "I understand. So be it." Then he turned towards the console again. "Come on, Old Thing, quick!" he said flippantly. But the look in his eyes was anything but flippant. Story (c) 2001 Jean-Marc Lofficier; The Prisoner (c) ITC; Doctor Who (c) BBC. Photo credits: Patrick McGoohan (No. 6), Tom Baker (The Doctor).