Doctor Who BBC872 - To the Slaughter

Trix decided she would throttle him. ‘Doctor!’
‘Don’t worry. They’re only warning shots – it’s Falsh’s ship, they won’t want
to damage it.’
‘They’ll do more than damage us when they’ve caught us and towed us back
to the station!’
The ship lurched violently as a miniature sun appeared in the cockpit window,
blinding Trix with its intensity. Security had switched from wagging a
finger to raising a fist. It couldn’t be long now before it came crashing down. . .
‘Are you sure they won’t risk harming the ship?’ she asked lamely.
‘Fairly. But they may well have weapons designed to eliminate organic life
while leaving the ship intact.’
‘Had to spoil it, didn’t you.’
The Doctor ducked back under the console. ‘We need more power if we’re
going to outrun these probes.’
‘Feng Shui!’ she yelled.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘That’s it! What Halcyon’s doing it all for.’
The Doctor scrambled back out, a keen interest in his eyes. ‘Feng Shui?’
‘Yeah, you know. Move around your furniture, point ornaments north – all
that crap the property shows were trying to flog us in my time. . . ’ Trix bit
her lip as the ship rocked so hard she swore she could feel the floor buckle
beneath her feet. ‘He’s rearranging the solar system, see? Clearing out the
clutter, making it “spiritually pure” or something, a better place to live and
work in. . . ’
The Doctor just went on staring at her.
‘He works out what aligns with what and where, and Falsh makes it happen,’
she babbled. ‘It’s like inner-city development – tempt big businesses to set up
back in the old neighbourhood, hold their meetings and Christmas parties in a
Falsh orbiting-conference-podule thing, knock down the slums, generate more
wealth, employment, blah blah blah. . . ’ She frowned at his trancelike state.
‘Sorry, is this distracting you from saving our necks?’
He shook his head in a flurry of chestnut curls. ‘No, no, no.’
‘Well, could you maybe hurry up a bit and –’
‘I mean: no, you’re wrong.’
‘I heard them talking!’ she said indignantly. ‘I saw the whole pitch on one
of those bubble-TVs!’
‘You’re wrong about classical Feng Shui.’ He disappeared beneath the console
again, leaving Trix nonplussed. ‘It’s a philosophy. A serious study of how
the unseen energies of our living environment affect us,’ he called to her. ‘Its
proponents believe that through the arrangement and placement of rooms
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