“Cor blimey!” Cried the Cabby. “It’s getting you can’t believe your own mince pies, anymore.”
“Too right! It totally freaked me out. Just like you.” Chakra and the driver were too busy reliving the magic show to notice that another car had been trailing them since leaving the theatre. Luckily it appeared their pursuer had lost sight of them while they were caught up in the London traffic. Still the Doctor wasn’t happy until they’d paid the taxi driver and were safe inside the flat.
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Chakra was staying at Ophelia’s flat in the heart of Soho. Inside the professor’s inner sanctum Buddha statues gazed serenely at Mandalas on the walls. There were books, records, and a stereo: but no TV.
Chakra lit some incense then stretched out on the cushioned floor. The Time Lord lowered himself onto a black leather sofa. Neither were interested in small talk so they talked about what was on their minds. Namely magic, fakirs and Psi.
“Of course we take it all for granted back home. But my interest in Psi only really begun after they exiled me.”
“You’re an exile, Doctor?”
“Yes. But don’t let on, will you. It’s an open secret in the circles I move in.”
Chakra’s curiosity was aroused by this hint of mystery surrounding the Time Lord. He was obviously much more than just an eccentric dandy dressed in Edwardian clothes. A man both fatherly and a trifle rude at times.
“So what happened to you then?”
“Well, you could say I had part of my memory wiped. That’s why I started dabbling in ASCs.”
“ASCs? Oh you mean altered states of consciousness. Ophelia is always altering her state of consciousness. I find it a little bit unnerving.”
“So do I, my dear Chakra. But I’m hoping the benefits will outweigh the risks. You need to be so careful when you look into the mind. Speaking for myself, I’ve tried it all: Lucid dreaming. Hypnotic imagery. I've even had a go at sensory deprivation.”
Chakra wondered what the Doctor could have been searching for. Something important must have driven him to experiment on himself in this way.
“Did you find it insightful?”
“ Well, I did get some missing memories back,” the Doctor smiled.
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It was proving to be a better evening than the Doctor had expected. Chakra wasn’t Jo but she was pleasant enough company to unwind with. The Doctor felt he could really warm to Chakra though he was growing increasingly concerned that they hadn’t heard from Ophelia yet. Surely they have telephones at these conferences. Ophelia may not take death threats seriously but the Doctor wasn’t happy about leaving Chakra on her own. He’d have to stay here tonight and keep an eye on her.
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“But why are scientists like Ophelia so skeptical about the paranormal?” Chakra asked him.
“ Well, no one can explain how Psi works, “replied the Doctor “Despite decades of research and theorising there’s still no known mechanism that can account for the phenomena.”
“What about all those ESP tests? You know with Zener cards?”
“ Those results are controversial. Unfortunately the paranormal doesn't play by the rules of the laboratory. One scientist gets results above chance. While another does exactly the same experiment and gets results no better than tossing a coin.”
“ I don’t care about experiments. I know lots of people who’ve had weird stuff happen to them. There are more things in heaven and earth.”
“Quite,” agreed the Doctor, “but the problem is it’s all happening outside the laboratory. Perhaps I’ll do my own experiment one day.”
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Elsewhere, Nowhere, The Masters of Illusion chanted their mystical mantra of chaos and unreason.
“BREAK YE LAWS OF PHYSICS. BREAK”
“BREAK YE LAWS OF PHYSICS. BREAK.”
“BREAK YE LAWS OF PHYSICS. BREAK”.
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“Will white wine do? Chakra asked returning from the kitchen with two glasses and a bottle of wine. The Doctor nodded then sipped the wine. From the look on his face Chakra could tell he wasn’t enjoying it.
. You don’t like it? Do you?”
“I've tasted better if I'm honest,” he grimaced.
“Ophelia doesn’t usually keep wine in the house. She’s not much of a drinker. I prefer the occasional half pint of lager and lime myself. But neither of us has a clue about what makes a good wine."
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Chakra couldn’t cook so they tucked into cold vegetables and pasta that Dr Hart had left in the fridge.
“So Ophelia is your tutor,” enquired the Doctor chewing on a courgette.
“Yes. And she’s also a very good friend.”
The Doctor bravely took another sip at his wine.
“But I’m not learning any of that psychology bull.”
“Then what is she teaching you then?”
“She’s trying to teach me how to meditate. You’re not the only one to get in touch with their inner self.”
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Before the Doctor could stop her Chakra went to answer the door. But any apprehension he felt seemed happily misplaced. There was no one at the door.
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Outside the flat, the invisible Illusionist was sitting cross-legged in mid-air, watching his two unsuspecting victims with a diabolical sneer on his face. He alone could see the small yellow basket left on the doorstep of the flat.
Chakra had left the door ajar. A mistake she wouldn’t live to regret.
The mad mystic gave the mental command then laughed, as the lid of the basket lifted upwards, releasing the terror within.