“What do you think of that, then?” The Doctor asked his companions
with a huge grin splitting his face. Amy and Rory looked at the round
viewscreen and prepared themselves to be impressed.
On the viewscreen, though, what they saw could easily have been a model
created by Gerry Anderson. They went to the door, instead, and the space
station looked far more impressive that way. They got a much better idea
of the sheer size of it, for a start, and it looked much more completely
real hanging there against the glorious, endless starfield.
It was essentially a giant ball in space... or a globe... or a... Christmas
pudding. That last image came to mind mainly because they had been talking
about Christmas a little while ago and The Doctor had said he wanted to
show them something spectacularly Christmassy.
The pudding had thousands of windows set into it. They gave up trying
to count them, but there had to be at least fifty floors to it, and it
HAD to be about a mile wide at the diameter.
“Well, they measure length in Macro-Metres in the thirty fifth century,”
The Doctor pointed out. “But it’s about a mile, yes. Fifty
floors open to the public plus parking and warehousing below.”
“It’s singing to us,” Amy said. She blinked as she looked
at the lights around the middle of the pudding. They were blinking on
and off in sequence, forming words that scrolled around the circumference.
“It’s in rhythm, too,” Rory noted. Then both of them
heard the tune played in perfect quadrophonic sound by the TARDIS communications
array. It was sung by a chorus with a brass band accompaniment and conjured
images of people wrapped in scarves and woolly hats carrying song sheets
and lanterns as they sang carols in a snow-covered street to the delight
of gift-laden passers by.
“Welcome to Christmas Station,” The Doctor said with a grin
and went to complete their materialisation in the parking hangar.
“Christmas Station!” Rory queried as The Doctor paid for
the parking space where the TARDIS stood rather incongruously. It was
surrounded by space craft, mostly the size of a transit van, but some
as big as a double decker bus. The Doctor said those were for the coach
tours. The smaller shuttles were family runabouts.
“A space station dedicated to Christmas?” Amy added. “I
mean... ok... I mean we have Mrs Christmas in Gloucester every year. I
suppose this is the same thing on a bigger scale. But what do they do
the rest of the year?”
“It’s Christmas all year on Christmas Station, miss,”
said the blue-faced young man dressed in an elf costume who issued The
Doctor’s day parking pass and charged him the same rate as a family
runabout even though the TARDIS could easily have sat in the corner by
the vending machines. “We never close.”
“Let’s go to the food court, first, and I’ll explain,”
The Doctor said, heading for the row of turbo lifts each operated by another
elf-costumed humanoid with skin tones in the primary colour range. They
emerged a few seconds later in a wide, bright room which resonated with
the sound of people eating and talking. There was an underlying rattle
of cutlery and waitresses were constantly moving from the tables to the
food counters placing or bringing orders, or cleaning the tables after
the customers had moved on.
The ceiling was covered in very realistic crystal glass icicles that sparkled
like diamonds and had an internal light that illuminated the food court.
The walls above the fascias of the myriad food outlets were decorated
with a frieze in white and pale blue colours depicting a Father Christmas
on his sleigh delivering presents not only around the world but across
the galaxy, his sleigh travelling through space to reach distant planets.
The Doctor picked up a perpetual calendar that was next to the menu. He
showed it to his friends.
“December 20th, Earth Time,” it read. “Four days to
Christmas on Earth. Twenty four shopping days to Christmas on Proxima
Centauri, thirty-five shopping days to Christmas on the colony planets
of Orion Psi. Ninety-eight shopping days to Christmas in the Beta Delta
system. One hundred and Eighty days to Christmas in Gamma Hydra...”
There were at least a dozen more such dates. Rory and Amy looked at it
for a long time before understanding dawned.
“These are planets where humans live in this time,” Rory said.
“And... because of different axis of rotation or something... Christmas
is a different time of year on each of them...”
The Doctor smiled. His Human friends had worked it out without him having
to explain at all. He liked it when they did that. It made him proud of
their species.
“So Christmas Station is here all year round,” Amy surmised.
“Clever.”
“It’s in orbit around Sedna, the tenth planet of your solar
system. It employs thousands of people from all over the Earth Federation.
The multi-coloured people doing all the guest relations work are Toi-Gocci,
from Gamma Epsilon. They joined the Federation a half a century ago and
integrated into Human society very well, despite a bit of colour prejudice
in the beginning.”
“Humans were mean to them because they have bright coloured faces?”
Amy asked as a yellow faced waitress brought huge turkey subs served on
a green salad and a massive plate of mince pies, cream, and latte coffees
to wash it all down with.
“No, they were prejudiced against humans who had such a small range
of skin tones in comparison. It was incomprehensible to them. But they
got used to you.”
Amy got ready to respond, but she was disturbed by the sound of something
wooshing overhead. She looked up to see a huge sleigh pulled by animatronic
reindeer whose legs cantered through the air. Behind it were several small
sleighs in which people sat, waving and cheering to the consumers below
them before the sleigh train disappeared through an aperture that opened
up in the far wall to accommodate it.
“What... was... that?” she demanded.
“Sleigh ride,” The Doctor replied. “Christmas Station
is also a fantastic theme park. Do you fancy a go on that? The toboggan
run ride is sensational, too. You’re a bit old for the boat ride
through Santa’s grotto...”
“Maybe later,” Amy replied. “I’ve been looking
at the list of shops. I’d like to buy some presents for...”
She stopped talking and frowned. “What am I saying? I don’t
have any money. Neither of us do. We haven’t worked for the past
six months. We’ve been jaunting around the universe getting our
clothes out of the Wardrobe, food from the fridge... never even asking
where any of it comes from. We go to restaurants all over the galaxy and
you pay the bill and we never ask how...”
“Universal debit card,” The Doctor said, waving a thin card
with strange swirling patterns on it as well as a biometric data chip.
“If you’re wondering about how you can buy presents for your
family, just go to customer services over there and show some photo-ID.
They’ll sort you out.”
Amy and Rory looked at him dubiously, then left their sandwiches while
they went to the kiosk next to the parent and baby facility. They returned
a few minutes later clutching cards just like the one The Doctor had.
“These were waiting for us,” Amy said. “And apparently
I have two hundred thousand credits on mine. Is that a lot... or does
a pair of jeans costs five hundred thousand credits or something? Is inflation
really huge by the thirty-fifth century?”
“It’s a lot,” The Doctor said.
“Where does it come from?” Rory asked. “And... where
do they send the bill to at the end of the month?”
“It’s your own hard earned cash, with compound interest over
a thousand five hundred years, give or take a year or two. When you get
back to your own time you need to remember to deposit a couple of hundred
in a savings account and forget about it, otherwise you’ll cause
a monetary paradox and collapse the whole economy of the Earth Federation.
But otherwise, it’s yours to do as you like.”
“Is that where you get your money from?” Rory asked.
“No. I’m a Time Lord. I’m not allowed to do things like
that. I’m not allowed to play the lottery or bet on the Grand National,
either. I... had some savings in offworld accounts when my planet was
destroyed. I’ve been living off the interest these past years. Should
be ok for at least another four millennia. Then I can probably cash in
a pension plan I have at the Galactic 7 Mutual and Beneficial Society.
I’ll get by.”
Amy and Rory decided they were never going to talk about money around
The Doctor ever again.
After their lunch they split up to go shopping. That had been their way
ever since they were youngsters with pocket money to spend. They would
always buy each other a secret gift. With two hundred thousand credits
to spend, they could buy the perfect present for each other, as well as
for family and friends.
Amy enjoyed the luxury of going into shops without wondering if she could
afford to splash out. She took her time looking at the many gifts on sale.
She occasionally caught sight of Rory doing the same and was careful not
to let him see her. She more frequently saw The Doctor. He seemed to have
a very long shopping list. He was frequently to be seen depositing items
at the gift wrapping and delivery counter. Amy wondered exactly who he
would buy Christmas presents for. She knew his world was gone, along with
all of his race... all of his family, if he ever had one. He had never
mentioned anything about them.
She brought some of her purchases to the gift wrapping counter as an excuse
to look at what he had bought and who it was for. The gift was a sophisticated
coffee machine and it was addressed to somebody called Jack Harkness.
Another of his purchases was a hand crafted wooden chess set with beautifully
made pieces that he was sending to somebody called Ace. There was a small
package that looked like it came from a jewellery store addressed to somebody
called Sarah Jane Smith. In all these cases, the card that went with them
said ‘From The Doctor, with love.’ He was in the process of
writing another card, for a lady called Donna Noble. Amy wondered why
this one simply said ‘from a friend.’
The Doctor noticed her beside him and smiled warmly.
“I’ve been around for a long time,” he said. “I’ve
got a lot of friends. I don’t always remember things like Christmas.
Sometimes I forget about the friends... I shouldn’t, but I do. For
once... I can let them all know I’m thinking of them. They use a
special time window to deliver packages. You can send presents for future
Christmases and get a whole decade worth of shopping done at once or if
you forgot somebody you can send a gift to the past. So all you need to
do is give the address and what year you want it to arrive in time for
Christmas. Anywhere in the Earth Federation is free delivery. Outside
there’s a scale of charges.”
“That’s...” Amy couldn’t actually say what it
was. She had given up being surprised by anything these days. But she
had been wondering how they were going to deliver the presents, and that
was an ingenious solution.
“I’ve finished shopping now,” The Doctor said. “How
about you?”
“Yeah, just about,” she replied.
“Let’s find Rory and go on the sleigh ride, then.” The
Doctor grinned like a schoolboy at the idea. Amy wondered why a mechanical
ride would hold such an attraction to him. He had the TARDIS, after all.
It was the biggest and best thrill ride, ever.
The sleigh ride began on the floor above the food court, North Pole World
with Santa’s grotto at the centre of it all. Actually, there were
eighteen grottos with eighteen different versions of Father Christmas,
Saint Nicholas, Sinter Klaus... reflecting a few of the traditions of
planet Earth. Amy and Rory definitely didn’t need to meet any of
them. They got into the queue for the ride and when their turn came they
sat with The Doctor and waited while their safety harness was secured
by a ride operator. Then it began to move, travelling along the ground
at first, then rising up on its suspended rail. The first ascent was slow,
but they had all been on enough white knuckle rides to know what was coming
once they reached the summit.
And it didn’t disappoint. The sleigh cars went over the top and
descended rapidly down a long, long slope before disappearing inside a
tunnel. It was dark for several seconds before emerging in a brightly
coloured tableaux with snow covered roofs of an idyllic town below and
a sky full of luminous painted stars above. Another dark tunnel brought
them out above the food court and then they were travelling over a make
believe ocean to reach another idyllic town where the gifts had to be
delivered.
It was a fun, fast, and utterly charming ride. Amy loved it. She glanced
at Rory and knew he was having fun, too. Then she saw The Doctor’s
face. His wide mouth was open in an extended scream of exhilaration. He
was leaning forward, his hands on the rail in front of them as if he was
willing the ride to go faster.
Along with his Christmas shopping, it was the most Human thing she had
ever seen him do.
The ride descended one last glorious slope through the winter wonderland,
where it ran alongside the toboggan ride that looked almost as much fun.
Then it went into another dark tunnel with twinkling fairy lights all
around before emerging in the grotto again and coming to a stop.
“Let’s go again!” Rory enthused.
“No!” The Doctor replied. Then, “Yes. Let’s do
it. No... it would be greedy. Yes, why not. You’re only young once...
well, you two are. Obviously not me...”
They lined up again. They almost had to wait. There was a party of school
children with their teacher who took up almost all of the seats. There
was just room for three in the very back sleigh.
The ride started up again. They got ready to enjoy it all over again.
And they did. It was every bit as much fun the second time around.
At least until they passed through the food court.
“Doctor!” Amy yelped. “What are they and what are they
doing?”
‘They’ were long thin creatures with lime-green bodies and
thin faces, something like seven foot tall grasshoppers. Their eyes were
huge and goggling and their mouths opened in a dark circle as they looked
up at the sleigh ride. They raised the weapons with which they had been
herding customers and staff into the middle of the food court and fired,
but the sleigh was going too fast. All they did was smash some of the
icicle lights in the ceiling and scare the children.
“Everyone keep calm,” The Doctor called out as they entered
the tunnel at the other end of the food court. Actually what he said was
rather garbled as he was standing up with his sonic screwdriver between
his teeth and climbing over the gap between their sleigh and the next
one. Amy and Rory watched fearfully as he clambered over each of the sleighs
in turn, heading towards the big one at the front. They were on a fast
descent when he reached it, and all he could do was cling on tight until
it reached a level part of the ride again. They were in the last tunnel
with the fairy lights, when he used the sonic screwdriver to slam on the
emergency brakes and stop the ride.
“Everyone out, very quietly and quickly,” he said to the children
and their petrified teacher. “Yes, there is something wrong on Christmas
Station. Something very, very wrong. But don’t worry. The Doctor
is in the House! I’m going to sort this all out very soon.”
The children looked at him as he spoke. There was absolutely no reason
to think that ‘The Doctor in the House’ meant that everything
was going to be all right, but somehow it worked. They clambered out of
the sleighs and formed an orderly crocodile. The Doctor took the head
of the line as they headed back through the tunnel.
“Where are we going?” Amy asked. Somebody had to.
“There should be a maintenance door up here somewhere,” he
replied. “It will lead to a staff room. With any luck the Yebu-Dibu-di
won’t have access....”
“The WHAT?” Rory demanded.
“Yebu-Dibu-di... the green guys with the lack of Christmas spirit.”
“Yebu... That’s what they’re called.”
“I’m afraid so,” The Doctor replied. “In their
language it actually sounds rather menacing, like the Kray gang.”
“Well in our language it sounds like Fred Flinstone with adenoids,”
Rory countered.
“Grinches,” Amy said. “They’re trying to steal
Christmas...”
“And that’s not a silly name?” The Doctor asked. “Ok,
they’re Grinches. And stealing Christmas is exactly what they’re
up to. They’re thieves. Big scale thieves. I don’t know how
they got past security but...” He stopped walking and talking abruptly.
The crocodile ground to a halt and watched as he used the sonic screwdriver
on a piece of wall that looked the same as the rest, but resolved into
a door. The corridor was narrower than the sleigh tunnel, but better lit
and it soon opened out into a control centre where three worried Toi-Gocci
with purple faces were watching a bank of monitors and wondering what
to do.
“I could do with a cup of tea, please,” The Doctor said to
one of them. “Teacher there, definitely could, too. The kids have
fizzy drinks and packed lunches. They just need a bit of floor to sit
down on.”
The children took their cue and sat down on the carpeted floor. They were
still a bit scared, but the sense of adventure was kicking in, too. A
picnic under siege was a thrill on its own. The Doctor gave the teacher
a chair and a tray of tea turned up very soon after. Amy sat with the
teacher and helped calm her down.
The Doctor drank his tea while looking at the monitors and switching between
different views of the Station.
“They’ve shut down outside communications,” The Doctor
noted. “Nobody can call for help. It also looks like they’ve
blocked the turbo lifts and transmats below level twenty-five. That’s
the security level, of course. The guards can’t get up here. Access
to the transport hangars is out of the question....”
He grabbed a chair and sat at the computer bank. The Toi-Gocci who thought
it was his job to sit there moved over docilely. The Doctor was in charge.
He typed rapidly at an extended keyboard and data filled the screen in
front of him.
“Double deadlock, triple encoded on everything. I can’t even
get the glass escalator to the observation deck working. They’re
clever. Very clever.”
“They’re everywhere,” Rory observed. “Hundreds
of them.”
They certainly seemed to be. As well as the food court, they had taken
hostages in the theatre where the pantomime was just starting its second
matinee of the day. They were all over Santa’s Grotto, holding all
of the international Father Christmases and the children and parents.
They were in the jewellery stores smashing display cases and piling gold,
silver and lutanium gifts into sacks.
“Not hundreds,” The Doctor replied. “I make it about
fifty of them in total. That’s a lot, but not enough to take control
of the whole Station. That’s why they locked off the areas they
had no interest in, so they didn’t have to spread themselves too
thin.” Rory smirked. “That wasn’t a pun. And there’s
nothing funny about them. They’ll hurt people if they don’t
get what they want.”
“What do they want?” Rory asked. “I mean... I can see
they’re turning over the jewellery stores. But surely there isn’t
that much stuff in them... not enough to make all this worth it.”
“You’d be surprised, Rory, old chum,” The Doctor said.
“Remember, Christmas Station never closes. And jewellery, especially
lutanium and diamonds, are very popular. They have huge vaults right underneath
the stores themselves. Once they’ve got what they can see, they’ll
go down and break those open.”
“They cannot get off the station,” the Toi-Gocci said. “They’ve
even disabled the access to the emergency escape pods on each floor.”
“They planned this, they planned their escape,” The Doctor
pointed out. “They’ve left themselves a window somewhere.”
“I... suppose...” Rory ventured, “It’s only money.
They’ve not hurt anybody... only scared them a bit. Once they have
what they want they’ll go....”
“Rory Williams, how can you say that?” Amy responded before
The Doctor had a chance to speak. “How can you suggest that innocent
people should put up with bullies holding them at gunpoint while they
steal what isn’t theirs and just get away with it? Your mother didn’t
bring you up that way.”
“I know,” he replied in a suitably chastised voice. “But
there’s too many of them to fight. We can’t...”
“Who said anything about fighting them?” The Doctor said.
“I know what their way out was going to be.”
“Was?”
“I’m going to redirect their mail. Coming?”
He addressed the question to Rory, but Amy followed him as well. They
watched as he carefully disconnected the passenger sleighs from the main
sleigh and then used the sonic screwdriver to repair the circuits he had
blown in order to stop it in the tunnel. He jumped aboard. Rory and Amy
followed a moment before the sleigh pulled by its mechanical reindeers
moved off at a cracking pace.
“We’ll just end up in the grotto, and they have guards there,”
Amy pointed out.
“We’re heading for the grotto, but we’re not going to
‘end up’ there. I’ve given the sleigh a power boost.
We’re going to surprise the Grinches.”
It surprised Rory and Amy when, instead of slowing down when the sleigh
reached the grotto it increased speed, jumping its track and sailing through
the air unfettered.
“But it can’t do that!” Amy protested.
“Oh, it can. They don’t usually LET it. The customers obviously
feel that an old fashioned guide rail is essential for a white knuckle
ride. But the sleigh works by null gravitational shift – in essence
it creates a pocket of zero gravity around itself, pushing against the
real gravity to give it momentum. As long as there is gravity aboard the
station we can go anywhere we want. Are the Grinches following us?”
“Some of them are,” Amy replied. “Do we want them to
follow?”
“Yes,” The Doctor told her. “Grab some of the labels
off the fake presents in the back of the sleigh there, will you. Rory,
do you have a pen?”
“No,” he answered. “I wasn’t expecting a test.”
“That’s ok, use mine,” The Doctor said pulling a very
high quality gold pen from his pocket and handing it to him. Rory glanced
at it and noted the words ‘Hello Sweetie’ engraved in silver
on it. He filed that under things he would not bring into a conversation
with The Doctor and listened as he told him what to write on the labels
he picked off the faux presents.
“Not sure I understand,” he said, passing pen and completed
labels back to The Doctor. “How does that defeat Yebu... da.. di...
Grinches.”
“You’ll see when we reach the shopping mall,” The Doctor
answered. “It’ll be good. One of my best non-violent resolutions
to a crisis.”
The ride wasn’t really as much fun now as it was when it was just
a ride. Amy was feeling a little sleigh sick by the time they reached
the shopping mall. And she wasn’t at all happy when The Doctor swooped
low over one of the jewel stealing grasshoppers and dropped a parcel label
on a loop of string around its neck. He did the same to four more of them
and then, having got their attention, he turned the sleigh and headed
towards the gift wrapping counter. The Grinches gave chase, firing their
weapons wildly. They blew the heads off two of the mechanical reindeers
and hit the side of the sleigh once, but moving targets didn’t seem
to be their speciality.
“Lousy shots all round,” Rory said. “I think being in
the thing they WANT to hit is the safest place to be. All the same, I
hope you know what you’re doing, Doctor.”
“Oh, I do,” he answered with a wild laugh. The Sleigh glided
over the gift wrapping counter and the Grinches clambered over it to try
to reach it. Amy and Rory peered over the side and gasped in surprise
at what happened to them.
“Where did they go?” they asked in unison as the five creatures
disappeared in a flash of white light.
“They had correctly addressed labels on them,” The Doctor
said. “They’ve been delivered. That was their way out of here,
by the way. They were going to post the loot to themselves using the gift
delivery system – anywhere in time, free delivery within the Earth
Federation - and then post themselves afterwards.”
“So where have you posted them to?” Rory asked.
“The Shaddow Proclamation. The police force of the galaxy. They
never get presents. Shall we send them some more?”
The Doctor banked the sleigh low and grabbed a bundle of labels from the
counter. Rory filled them in while he went in search of more Grinches.
“They are a bit stupid,” Amy said as they led four more of
them to the gift wrapping counter with labels around their necks. “Why
don’t they take the labels off? And why do they chase us. They should
just get on with stealing the stuff.”
“They’re thick,” The Doctor agreed. “Thick as
thieves.” He laughed as he pulled the sleigh up high above the counter
and another four intergalactic criminals were posted to the correct address.
They had circled around and labelled another six Grinches who immediately
gave chase and fell into the same trap when the air in the shopping mall
shimmered red and a dozen huge, broad creatures in leather armour and
black lacquered helmets materialised. They spread out, their laser guns
raised as they went in pursuit of the remaining Grinches. One remained
beside the gift wrapping counter. He took off his helmet to reveal a head
like a rhinoceros and a humourless expression.
“The cavalry,” The Doctor said with a triumphant laugh. “Well,
the Judoon, anyway. The only people who can break through double deadlocks.
Hold on, going in to land.”
“Hold on tight,” Rory said to Amy. “He doesn’t
even land the TARDIS without a bump half the time. Can we trust him with
a sleigh?”
The Sleigh actually touched down very gracefully right in front of the
Judoon captain, who levelled his weapon at them and spoke in a staccato
set of monosyllables.
“He’s accusing me of unlicensed driving of a Sleigh,”
The Doctor said. “Keep calm, put your hands up and don’t say
anything. Let me deal with this.”
Amy and Rory raised their hands and said nothing. The Doctor stood up,
waving his psychic paper and, of all things, a red santa hat with fake
fur around it that he pulled from his jacket pocket.
“Mo do fi go ro yo wo to,” he said in a deep voice. “It’s
ok, I’m Father Christmas. Look, I have the hat. And, look, in my
other hand, sleigh driving licence. Ho, Ho, Ho!”
“Ho go ro fo,” the Captain replied. Then he raised a small
blunt instrument that scanned The Doctor for a long time.
“Scan identifies The Doctor, Gallifreyan, last of Time Lords, signatory
of the Shaddow Proclamation. Also known as The Oncoming Storm, the Destroyer
of Worlds, Theta Sigma, Ka Faraq Gatri.... Father Christmas.... legitimate
pilot of sleigh.”
“What? Seriously?” Amy and Rory looked at The Doctor in astonishment,
but the expression on the Judoon Captain’s face didn’t alter
one inch from that stern, uncompromising one. “Perhaps they’re
bad boys?” Amy added in a whisper. “He doesn’t come
down their chimney.”
“Never mind my weekend job,” The Doctor said. “As a
signatory of the Shaddow Proclamation, I order you to round up the Grinches
and put them behind bars for... oh, ten thousand years should do it. They
nearly ruined Christmas for everyone and that’s a very serious crime
in my book.”
The Grinches were already under arrest. The Judoon squad marched back
into the shopping mall with them in a tight group, long, gangly arms raised
above their heads and their goggly eyes wobbling with fear. The Judoon
formed ranks around them and the air shimmered. The whole lot transmatted
out of the shopping mall - except for the Captain.
“Jo Ko, Lo Ro-Go-Fo-Go-Do-Do-Ro,” he said to The Doctor, handing
him a piece of printed plastic before pressing his stubby hand against
what might be his heart if Judoon anatomy was even remotely similar to
Human. Then he bowed.
“Go-Fo-Do-Wo,” The Doctor replied solemnly. Then a grin split
his face. “Ho, ho, ho! Go on. Try it. Just once.”
The Judoon didn’t. He stood to attention as crisply as a humanoid
rhinoceros possibly could and repeated his salute before the air shimmered
once again.
“That’s nice,” The Doctor said looking at the piece
of plastic. “I’ve been awarded honorary membership of the
Judoon special constabulary!”
“Ho, ho, ho?” Rory queried.
“Funnily enough it means the same in Judoonian as it does here.
But he just wasn’t in the Christmas spirit.”
“Maybe he was a bad boy?” Amy ventured.
“Never. Judoon are sticklers for discipline. If he’d been
bad, he’d have had to put himself under arrest. Never mind the Judoon.
They’re incredibly boring people. You should hear their drinking
songs.”
“No thanks,” Amy and Rory decided. “What do we do now?”
“You two go on up to the winter wonderland deck while I take the
sleigh back and escort the kids and teacher to the nearest ice cream outlet.
Then we can have an afternoon on the Christmas Station piste, or a quite
ride on a horse drawn sleigh...” He looked at the battle-scarred
remains of the mechanical sleigh and grinned. “Honestly, I can promise
no trouble this time.”
“We believe you, Doctor,” Amy told him, grabbing Rory’s
arm. “See you up there. Ho, ho, ho!”
“Ho, ho, ho,” Rory added.
“Go Fo Do Lo,” The Doctor replied to them. “Merry Christmas
in Judoon.”