Star Date : The 28th Century

Dear Diary,

We’ve just said farewells to the strange party of human travellers who assisted us in our dispute with the Sensorites. I missed most of the action as I chose to stay aboard the SS Wellington (as any good Captain should) and play travel Scrabble with Miss Wright. The man John has explained to me how he found a cure for the Sensorite plague, exposed the City Administrator as a traitor and recovered the opening mechanism of the Doctor’s strange craft. We discussed it in the lift coming up to the flight deck because I didn’t have the courage to ask if I could debrief him. He never returns my affections. Many is the night I’ve asked him to come with me up the other end but he prefers to study rock samples and talk to co-astronaut Carol Richmond. She tells me she loves him but I’m sure it’s in a sisterly way. We’re astronauts – we’re meant to be above that sort of thing. Or under it. I wish I was under it.

We’ve got to get back to Earth as we’ve got a cargo of lunatics to deliver. The man John asked me where we should put them during the fight. I panicked because he wanted me to make a decision. I pointed to the nearest cupboard and we locked them in there for now. I’m sure I’ll think of something better later. Meanwhile I’ve got another, much more important problem. Getting to the Sensesphere was easy enough – we had the automatic pilot system and the pan-galactic molybdenum detector to guide us. But now we’ve got to go back to the Earth and I’m sure Carol or the man John will realise eventually that I can’t fly the Wellington. I thought the game was up when the Sensorites made us wobble a bit but luckily the Doctor saved us. I pretended to be under their influence and I think they believed me. I know roughly how to start, stop and change gear but that’s all. At the University of Central City I was put on the graduate management fast track training programme. I never expected to end up at the cutting and thrusting end of space travel.

Dear Diary,

Aside from some banging coming from the lunatics in the cupboard it has been a fairly uneventful shift. The man John was manning the controls before me (the seat was still warm) and set us on what I’m sure was an excellent course. I made a show of checking some readings but I made the executive decision to leave things untouched. I used my handkerchief to polish a few dials and buff up a couple of bulbs but that was it. I like to feel I make a contribution to the mission. I then used the ship’s databank to look up twentieth century England. Those strange travellers unnerved me when they asked about Big Ben as he swore to me he was only twenty three. It turns out they were right – it was only a clock. Then I dozed off until co-astronaut Carol came onto the bridge for her shift and I pretended I was suffering from the after-effects of the Sensorite mind control. She used the heart resuscitator on me and damn nearly killed me. Still, I didn’t lose her respect as Captain of the ship and that’s the main thing.

Dear Diary,

The noise from the lunatics cupboard is getting worse. They seem to have found a banjo and won’t stop playing it. I can’t unlock the door and confiscate it as the man John was foolish enough to let me lock them in there without first taking their weapons away from them. We feed them as best we can through the key hole but they’re desperate men and desperate men will do desperate things.

I made another executive decision today. In the absence of a medical team I decided we should all learn some basic first aid. Using the Official INNER Ship Manual as a guide I ordered the man John to give me mouth to mouth resuscitation. It wasn’t perhaps as romantic as I’d hoped it would be as the lunatic banjo playing had reached fever pitch and the man John kept turning the pages of the really rather poorly laid out INNER Manual back and forth as he puckered but when his lips pressed against mine I felt as if the entire universe had been turned inside out.

Dear Diary,

Reviewing my last entry I feel I ought to clarify something. The entire universe did in fact turn itself inside out as the SS Wellington fell through a hole in space and we’re now entirely lost and alone in a completely uncharted area of the universe. I broke the news as best I could to the crew – I hastily prepared some slides – but they took it badly. I tried to cheer them up by announcing that, as a result of our predicament, I had decided to rename the SS Wellington. Henceforth I am Captain of the SS Infinity. I passed around a staff satisfaction survey after my presentation and I’m afraid morale aboard ship has fallen to a new low. On the plus side, the lunatics’ practice has paid off and they’re really rather good now. However, I’m considering printing off some sheet music from the ship’s database as I’m sick of "Lady of Spain".