Making Memories, chapter 2

Chapter 2: Preconceptions and Predictions
The ballroom was filled with various people, knitted together in various circles, most of them Trydians, human-esque in form yet with sinewy projections from their cheeks and eyebrows, their golden eyes their most notable feature. Some of the guests were of various other races, knitted together in their own unique groups, not a Trydian near them. The most important feature, to the Doctor and Martha, however, were the tables that lined all the walls of the pentagonal room. The tables were filled to the brim with colorful and interesting looking food. None of it looked like anything Martha had seen at home. As such, she stood there for several moments, looking for something she might take, when, finally, the Doctor, a broad smile on his face, handed her a bright blue object with light lavender nodes all over it's surface. Taking the fruit in her hand, she turned her face toward his and raised an eyebrow.

"Lyker," the Doctor said, picking one up for himself and taking a prompt bite. He paused a moment, "You gonna try it?"

Martha looked the object over. "What is it?"

"A fruit. Imported from the mountains of Rylos. I should take you there sometime -- absolutely beautiful."

Martha closed her eyes and took a bite, then raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Tastes like… chicken?"

The Doctor looked his own fruit over for a moment. "Yes, I suppose it does. Never thought of that before."

Before Martha could respond, he'd already moved over to the drink table. In front of the drink table stood a group of Trydians talking animatedly to one another.

"And the Psycla's prediction came true, as you can imagine," one began, taking a sip of her drink as the Doctor reached around her in order to get a glass.

He paused, processing for a moment before turning to the Trydian in disbelief. "Really?"

The Trydian woman paused a moment and looked both him and his companion up and down, as if assessing their worthiness to hold a conversation. She smiled broadly. "It most certainly did. The Psycla are amazingly accurate."

"Really?" the Doctor asked again.

She gave a laugh that sounded like the clinking of glasses. "I was surprised myself the first time I got a reading. Complete nonsense, I was sure, but it was free so I didn't see the harm."

"Mind if I ask what happened?" the Doctor asked, pouring himself a drink while still keeping his gaze intently focused on the Trydian's face.

"Well, as I said before," the Trydian woman said, her voice now more conversational, "I had thought it was complete nonsense. But they gave me a free invitation, invited me to the grand opening. At any rate I was drawn in by their other key selling point -- a spa on every floor. Certainly you need not give me a reason to relax and be pampered, so I came. The reading was entirely free and so I decided I'd try it, if for no reason other than sheer curiosity."

"It certainly is curious," Martha agreed as she poured herself a glass of the same liquid the Doctor had poured for himself, a bit wary of the others that rested on the table.

The Trydian nodded and took a sip from her own drink. "Now, as you can imagine, word had traveled of the fiasco on Clydos, where the Psycla were exposed as frauds."

Martha turned to look at the Doctor but his eyes remained fixed on the Trydian woman, his face rather stoic for such a lighthearted conversation.

The woman continued. "Word had traveled of the invalid predictions which is why I would not have even bothered if it weren't complimentary. What a waste of money!"

"Smart woman," the Doctor said taking a sip of a drink.

She smiled but dismissed the comment with a flippant wave of her hand. "So I took my free reading -- all in good fun, mind you..."

"And what did they say?" Martha asked with an interested smile, rather curious herself.

"Well, they took me back to a room, draped with several fabrics, complete with dim lighting, a pathetic attempt at ambiance in my opinion, but I will reserve judgment on the décor, as the prediction was the important part.

"They told me I would run into Tyrian, in thirty days time, at the hour of 1 in the evening, when the first sun begins its descent."

The Doctor arched an eyebrow, "That's quite specific."

The Trydian nodded. "I know, I was sure it was completely ludicrous! After all, I hadn't seen Tyrian in over 72 years. He had traveled to another world long ago. He told me he wouldn't return -- he had adventures to take, memories to make. So adventure minded, that one. Life here on Tryad was never good enough for him, never exciting enough."

"So what happened then?" Martha asked, taking another sip of her drink.

"Well, I must say, I laughed at the girl -- right in her face! But then, sure enough, thirty days later, when the first sun began it's descent across the sky, just as she said, I ran into Tyrian!"

The Doctor's expression changed to one of confusion and shock. "Had to be a coincidence," he said, now unsure of himself.

"Oh it was too perfect to be a coincidence, too exact, too specific. And Tyrian was so very happy to see me, and I was so very happy to see him. The prediction, it brought us together."

"No, the prediction did not bring you together. It just foretold the event," the Doctor said, running an agitated hand through his hair.

"So then what happened? Did he tell you about his adventures?" Martha asked excitedly.

"Well, I asked him, but he didn't seem to want to talk about them. He only wanted to talk about our past."

"And you found nothing odd about that?" the Doctor asked.

"I just figured his adventures hadn't been quite as wonderful as he'd hoped. There's so much room for disappointment, out there in the vast expanse. I didn't wish to press him on the matter. And reliving the past was just fine with me -- ah, what times we had together."

The Doctor once again took charge of the conversation. "And this is exactly what they said would happen?"

She nodded. "Exactly as they said it would."

"And all of you had similar experiences?" Martha asked the group.

"Yes," the man standing next to the one who had just told the story, his name Drexicon, answered. "Told me three years hence, when the second sun was in the middle of the sky and the third began it's ascent, I would encounter my long lost daughter," he began, glad to add his own story to the conversation. "I hadn't seen her since her birth. Her mother still refuses to speak to me. She moved away and I never saw her or my daughter again."

"How tragic," Martha said sympathetically.

Drexicon nodded and took a sip of his own drink, finishing it. He set the empty glass on the table. "Like Rinda, I was here for the grand opening. I would not have come otherwise. And, at the time, I thought they were completely mad. I gave the obligatory thanks and moved on.

"Three years went by and I had forgotten all about the prediction. The news of fraudulent predictions had reached most Trydian ears by that time, so I saw no point in holding on to such a ridiculous notion as that. Then, three years exactly from when I got my first reading, when the second sun was in the middle of the sky and the third had begun it's ascent, she showed up, as if by some strange magic, on my doorstep.

"She had come to visit me- of her own accord! I don't know how she knew where I lived but she was there, true as day. I can still remember it like it was yesterday. She looked just like her mother and smelled of fresh Gintweed. I asked her all about herself, what growing up had been like, but she just shook her head. Her mother's doing, I'm sure."

"Are you now?" the Doctor asked.

Drexicon gave a deliberate nod. "I most certainly am. I can't imagine her mother knew she had come to see me, but I am certain that she had spread her venom for many years prior. And yet, my daughter was nice to me, surprisingly nice. She must've inherited most of her personality from my side. She asked me all about my past and seemed genuinely intrigued."

The Doctor nodded and leaned toward Martha. He turned his head and acted as if he was pouring them both fresh drinks. "There's something strange going on here. Have you noticed how both stories involved chance encounters? And neither have revealed anything about the future, only the past." he whispered in her ear.

She shook her head. "It is indeed strange, but it could all simply be a coincidence," she whispered back.

"I don't believe in coincidence," he asserted.

"Or maybe, just maybe," she continued, "they might actually be able to predict the future."

"I wouldn't be so quick to give them such credit."

"Why are you so certain that this all must be some sort of trick?"

"How are you so sure it isn't?" and with that he turned back to the group. "So were you all invited to the grand opening, then?" he asked conversationally.

They all nodded. "That's how we all met," Rinda said with a smile.

The Doctor smiled broadly at her. "Must've been some opening."

"It certainly was," Rinda said taking a sip of her own drink.

"Do any of you still have the invitation?"

"Oh, heavens no! That was over twenty years ago," Rinda replied handing the Doctor her drink. With her hands free she began digging through her bag. "I don't still have the invitation," she continued as she rifled through her bag. "Though it would be so nice to commemorate the day we all met." She paused a moment and pulled out a golden envelope. "I do, however, have the invitation for this trip," she said holding it out to the Doctor. When he took it she smiled a gentle smile and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I know it's hard to believe, and I know you are a skeptic too, but this place can change your life."

The Doctor held out his hand genially, and Rinda took it and shook it vigorously. "Do you mind if I ask your name?"

Rinda blushed. "Rinda Sclion."

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Rinda Sclion," he said, bringing her hand to his lips for a brief, respectful kiss.

As the Doctor and Martha began their return trip to their room she smacked him lightly on his shoulder.

He turned to look at her. "What was that for?"

"You were flirting. Back there."

He gave a glance back. "Oh…that? Nah… that was just… that was just being polite."

"Are you always that polite?"

He grinned. "It's what makes me a gentleman."

She laughed and shook her head. "If you say so. But I say flirting. It is interesting, though," Martha continued thoughtfully.

The Doctor turned a quizzical gaze toward her.

"I mean, they all were invited here over twenty years ago, and now they all happen to be here at the same time. She gave you a current invitation. And, although it could be merely a coincidence, I'd guess they have all been invited back. But for what?"

The Doctor grinned. "That's using your brain, Rose! A brilliant question! And that's what we're going to find out!"

Martha stopped walking and stared at the Doctor for several moments.

He looked back at her somewhat confused and stopped walking himself. "What?"

"You just called me Rose."

The doctor furrowed his brow. "Did I now?"

"Yes," Martha said seriously, "you did."

"Oh," he said turning back from her, "my mistake." He began walking again at a slow pace, his hands in his pockets.

Martha followed, and the two walked in silence for several moments as they got into the elevator.

Even in the elevator, an awkward silence hung in the air, and Martha, that she might not look at him, instead allowed her gaze to fall on the elevator buttons that lit up bright gold as they rose ever higher in the towering building.

The buttons, aside from their eerie glow, were otherwise fairly uninteresting, going up numerically, as numbers generally did. They were, she had to admit, somewhat pretty, with the numbers marked in a curly, flowery font. The Trydians, after all, were known for their somewhat ostentatious decorations, especially when it came to their resorts.

She let her eye lazily wander over the buttons, tracing them slowly up to their own floor number, 668. As she did this, she caught something small, unusual. Something that might've been missed altogether in different circumstances. This one little detail, innocuous, perhaps even mundane, might just be the thing to break the silence, she thought.

"Well, isn't that odd," she mused aloud, somewhat restrained, quieter than her voice might normally have been, but still clearly audible, and certainly loud enough to draw the Doctor's attention.

"Hm?" he said, breaking out of his own thoughts and turning his gaze in her direction.

She gestured at the sequence of buttons in front of her. "The numbers skip. They go from 665 to 667, completely skipping 666."

"Oh," the Doctor said with an affirming nod. "Trydian superstition. They believe it's bad luck to have a floor 666."

She turned to look at him. It wasn't a matter of much importance, nor did she much care, but it might keep him talking. "Why?"

"Well," the Doctor began, all too happy to answer questions if it might aid the quest for knowledge, "the Trydians' ancestors are from Earth. Old Earth mythology. The devil's number."

"The devil?" Martha asked, a somewhat amused smile crossing her face.

"Yep, the devil. The devil himself," the Doctor said with a grin. "Met him once," he finished, puffing up with pride and nostalgia at the memory. "Well," he arched an eyebrow, silently pondering for a moment, "someone who claimed to be him."

"The devil?" she asked again, her tone now one of disbelief and awe.

"Yeah," his expression turned distant, sad, "with Rose... Brave girl..." He trailed off, leaving them one again in silence broken only by the sound of the elevator door sliding open as they reached their floor. Martha was the first to hurry out.

They walked down the hallway, tension still hung between them, until they passed by a sign that read Spa.

Martha looked at the sign somewhat longingly. It would nice to get away from the tension, by herself, and perhaps actually enjoy this vacation.

"You should go," he said, noting her interest, though she turned to look at him almost as if hurt.

At this his thoughts fumbled over each other until finally he noticed a detail on the sign that might perhaps allow him to salvage the situation. "After all, it says free." He paused abruptly and furrowed his brow. "Free? There would have to be an awful lot of money coming in here, tons, for them to be able to run a free spa," he said, almost more to himself then to her. He stared at the sign in the window. "A Lyran Bath. They're advertising a free Lyran bath. The prices for a Lyran bath are astronomical at this age." He looked up to Martha who was staring at him somewhat awkwardly. "Oh, yes, well, have a wonderful time."

"If you're sure you'll be okay," she said, eyeing him carefully.

"I'll be fine," he pulled out his sonic screwdriver, "I'm well prepared for anything that might come my way."

She smiled a small smile. "Well then, I suppose I will see you in the room later on."

"It's a date," he said, and with that he turned from her, but before he walked a way he turned back. "Martha?"

She turned around a somewhat dreamy smile on her face that he should call her back.

"Be careful," he sid. Her heart raced, he really, truly cared about her, maybe she wasn't just a replacement for this Rose girl, perhaps she was making headway. But before she could reply, he added, "Don't let them sucker you into anything."

Her dreamy smile faded and she gave a somewhat disappointed nod of understanding.

"See you back in the room," he said with a smile, and with that he left.

"Yeah," she replied absentmindedly to the air. After a moment of staring after him down the empty hallway, she turned and entered the spa, more disheartened than before.