Instead, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
When she awoke again, she thought of the conversation with Fred, and the feeling of desperation returned. I'll have to tell the Doctor all about it, she thought. I'll have to see what he can do. I know it's asking an awful lot, but without it, all the rest he has done for me won't count. Better to be dead than be different from what I was.
But it wasn't necessary to tell the Doctor. Fred had spoken to him first.
So Fred admits it's important too. He won't be able to deny any longer that I judged him correctly.
The Doctor said, "What you are asking is impossible."
"Impossible? You won't even try?"
"My dear patient, the wrecked ship is hundreds of millions of miles behind us. The expedition has its appointed task. It cannot retrace its steps. It cannot waste time searching the emptiness of space for a stereo which may not even exist any longer."
"Yes, you're right ... I'm sorry I asked, Doctor."
He read either her mind or the hopelessness in her voice. He said, "Do not make any rash plans. You cannot carry them out, you know."