Short Trips - The Doctor Who Audio Dramas

the large reinforced windows, framing a view of a mighty pine forest lit by fading
evening light. Landon wasn’t sure if he liked the view or just the concept of being
outside this grotty little den of iniquity.
Dillion was already at the bar, ordering drinks. Landon crossed to join him,
trying not to gag on the rotting smell coming from the snack counter. ‘Fourteen
glasses of your finest Silvolvian Whiskey, please,’ Dillion asked the barkeeper.
‘That doesn’t sound very healthy,’ Landon opined.
‘Well, not unless you mind having a liver turned inside out...’ Dillion shrugged.
‘Still, my mindscape, by rules! Get that down your neck!’ he said, handing the
Time Lord a jar-like glass of dry ale.
They sat on wobbly, threadbare seats that framed a battered table, both
uncomfortable and seemingly made of oak. Wasting no time, Dillion began to
drain his glass dry. ‘Only you could be lost in a virtual world made out of liquid
and immediately dehydrate your own brain,’ Landon sighed. He sipped his ale,
and idly pondered whether washing his mouth out with base-grade engine oil
could get rid of the taste. He found himself wondering if it would have tasted
worse poured through clean beer pumps...
‘Don’t you like it?’ asked Dillion. ‘Or are Time Lords immune to alcohol?’
Landon ignored the question. ‘Is this what we’re going to do until they find
us?’ he asked, pushing aside the tankard. ‘Drink fermented vegetable extract?’
‘We could always talk,’ Dillion shrugged.
Landon remembered their last attempt at the TARDIS. ‘Could we?’
‘What’s Gallifrey like?’ asked the Canisian.
‘We visited it only a few weeks ago,’ Landon grumbled. ‘Don’t you remember?’
‘I was hardly seeing it on a normal day,’ Dillion protested. ‘Or are Dalek
invasion forces regular visitors to the Capitol City?’
Landon admitted that Dillion had a point. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Well, I’ve told you a bit about my life, not that you were interested...’
‘Try being interesting occasionally and maybe I’ll react.’
‘..so why don’t you tell me a bit about your world? Your life?’
Landon cautiously took another sip of ale. ‘Surely the Doctor’s besmirched our
planet and its society enough for you? The ‘‘dullest place in the universe’’ was how
he referred to Gallifrey only this morning...’
‘So what’s wrong with getting your side of the story?’
It must have been the beer, or maybe the stress of his mind being disconnected
from his body, but Landon couldn’t find an answer. Or even a devastatingly witty
retort. Shaken, he took a long sip of his ale, so lost in thought that the appalling
taste didn’t matter any more.
‘I’ve never left the Capitol before. Never walked on the surface of my own
world, too terrified of anything that we thought natural or dangerous. The
Wilderness of Outer Gallifrey, they call it. Lots of people have been out there.
Tribes of Shaboogans live out there, permanently, traveling in caravans,
scavenging like animals -- all of their own choice. Even pictures of the surface was
enough to scare me in my youth.’