The Jailhouse Scene 1: Delavega
“I think we have to own the fears that we have of each other, and then, in some practical way, some daily way,
figure out how to see people differently than the way we were brought up to.”
-Alice WalkerStepping out of the Tardis, the Doctor nearly lost his balance. He paused, leaned against the door, and examined his surroundings, trying to figure out why.
It was twilight – sunrise or sunset, he couldn’t tell yet – and this was a city. A domed city, but if there was anything unusual in the recycled air, he couldn’t smell it. Nothing disorienting about the lighting; there were a lot of neon signs, but none in nauseating colors or flashing in brain-altering patterns. The sounds were typical for a recreational district in a city without the heavy traffic of individual vehicles: people chattering, distant cheering, barkers trying to draw customers inside, the occasional train running through overhead.
The problem, he realized, went much deeper. The planet was hardly turning at all. It was in tidal lock: rotating at the same rate as it revolved, so the same side always faced the sun. The sun side would be very hot, and the dark side very cold, so that only the borders were livable. It would always be twilight here.
It wasn’t that big a deal; he was like a sailor stepping onto land after months at sea, expecting the ground to keep moving when it didn’t. He took a moment to get used to the near-stillness, then started walking.
In a place like this, he was going to need money. He had long ago tried starting savings accounts and letting the interest compound over millennia, but since the banks never lasted that long, it hadn’t worked. He found a machine that dispensed credit chips – no hard currency here – and manipulated it with the sonic screwdriver. It wasn’t really stealing if it wasn’t really money.
There were people around, passing by in pairs and small groups, but not many. This was a small street; most of the noise was coming from further on. He followed the sound until he reached a plaza.
Around the edges were casinos, theaters, shops, and some places he couldn’t immediately identify. Several other side streets cut in between them. In the center, ringed by street performers of various kinds, was a giant statue. He worked his way toward it for a closer look.
It was a woman, with four arms and two faces. One face was utterly beautiful, kind and caring. The other was equally beautiful, but this was obscured by her vicious growl and angry eyes. She wore a necklace of skulls, and her skirt was made of severed arms. This was Kali, goddess of destruction and renewal; she did not traditionally have two faces, but the statue had been made to show both her aspects at the same time. A plaque on the pedestal read, “Kali-Ma, watch over the City of Delavega. Bring destruction to those who need it, and always let us rise again from our ashes.”
Delavega. It was the city, not the planet; the planet likely had other cities along its twilight border. Did all of them worship Kali, or was she simply the patroness of this one?
A flickering light caught his eye. It was a neon sign above one of the shops, an arrow pointing around the corner, words reading “This way to The Jailhouse.” Why would there be a neon sign pointing people to a prison? He decided to follow it.
Halfway down the block was a simple plasteel door with the words “The Jailhouse” inscribed on it. The Doctor shrugged and went inside. It looked almost like a waiting room, with a few soft chairs and a console with a large man sitting behind it. But there were also two men in security uniforms flanking it. A tall woman extracted herself from a sofa as the door opened.
“Well, what do you know,” she said, slithering over to the man behind the desk. There was a distinct family resemblance, though she was less than half his width. “It’s a little early yet, but I do believe we’ve got a customer.”
“Yep, that’s me,” agreed the Doctor, spreading his arms as if to present himself. “I’m a customer.” Then he considered. “So what am I buying?”
She laughed. “A tourist. I might have known. My name is Tirlene Alvin, and this is my brother Vargas. We run this place.” She stepped away from the desk, put her arm around his back, and guided him toward what looked like the door of a vault. “And this place, my dear man, is a brothel.”“Oh.” Nothing wrong with that in itself, but also nothing he was interested in. “Well, in that case… is it too late to bail out?”
They started laughing. “Bail out, he says!” Vargas spat. “You are funny, sir!”“What? Why is that funny?”
Tirlene composed herself. “You must be from farther out of town than I thought. It’s called The Jailhouse because it really is a jailhouse. The workers are all criminals. They get a shortened sentence in exchange for… making a little money for the state.”
“Isn’t that a little dangerous? Letting criminals… service customers?”“Oh, no. The rooms are all equipped with restraints that customers activate by voice.” She opened the vault and pushed him through. “Room twelve, Vargas,” she added.
“Ah, the new girl! Yes, he does look lively enough to handle her. You do like girls, of course?”
The Doctor just smiled; they took it as a yes. His opinion of this place got lower with every word either of them said, and it had just gotten so low that, rather than wanting to leave as smoothly as possible, he wanted to get inside and investigate.
Scene Selection
1. Delavega 5. Break-in 2. Room Twelve 6. Rescue 3. Sentencing 7. Escape 4. Testing Commentary