Post by Kitten Kong Destroyed Wotan on Feb 7, 2006 16:03:43 GMT -5
This is the first part of DW 2263, and was written by GreggAllinson but since he's not a member I'm posting it on his behalf.
Doctor Who 2263
The Wrong Time
By GreggAllinson
“Do you need a lift? I can stick around for a few more minutes.”
Barbara smiled. “Thanks, Polly. Ian should be here any moment now. I’ll see you out, though.”
As Barbara and Polly walked through the gleaming halls and corridors of the I.M. Foreman Museum of European history, they passed a squat blue box behind four velvet ropes. Polly paused for a moment. “Is that new?”
Barbara sized the box up. “Must be. I’ve never seen it here.”
“Should we report it?”
Barbara considered the question. “If security had detected anything, I’d say yes, but I’m sure it’s an exhibit in progress.” She craned her head forward. “Ah, yes. See- there’s a sign: ‘Mid-20th Century British Police Public Call Box. Part of the Law Enforcement in the 20th Century Exhibit, opening January 2264’. It’s certainly in the right place.”
“It is?”
Barbara waved her arms around, indicating the Jackson Pollack original hanging on the wall, display case housing the original handwritten lyrics to In My Life, a full-scale model of the Recovery 7 space probe, and display pieces. “We’re in the Princess Di wing.”
Polly smacked her forehead. “Oh, right…20th century exhibitions. I should’ve realised!”
Barbara laughed gently. “I don’t expect you to know all the ins and outs of the Foreman Museum after only three days on the job. You’ll learn, Polly. You’re doing just fine so far.”
“There’s just so much to know. And these uniforms…” Polly tugged at the grey, utilitarian jumpsuit with red piping that clung to her body. “I mean, honestly, these are clothes?”
“It’s called retro future. People from the 20th century actually felt people in 2263 might dress this way.” Barbara tapped the pointed grey hat on her head with her index finger. “Makes us stand out, if nothing else, I suppose…”
As Barbara and Polly walked down a hall, out of the wing and towards the entrance, one of the two police box doors opened. A young girl with straight, short dark hair poking out from underneath a black leather cap, peeked her head out. She looked back into the police box and shouted “Grandfather, look at this!”
From inside the police box, a raspy voice shouted back “No! Get back in here, child!”
The girl disobeyed the order and took a few steps outside. “But it’s so interesting out here!”
A dark-sleeved arm shot out of the police box and grabbed the girl’s arm. “Interesting, more often than not, means dangerous! Get back in here!”
***
Barbara and Polly stopped at the glass doors that marked the Foreman Museum’s entrance. “Are you working tomorrow?” Polly asked.
“Closing tonight, opening tomorrow. What about you?”
“Tomorrow off, working Friday and Saturday.”
Barbara peered into a small flat black panel to the right of the entrance. “Barbara Wright, senior tour guide, temporarily deactivating security system to allow tour guide Polly Lopez out.” She stepped back and saw red digital letters scroll across the panel, informing her that the security system was successfully deactivated. She then unlocked the door for Polly. “I’ll see you Friday, Polly. Good night.”
“Good night, Barbara.”
After Polly left, Barbara closed the door and again peered into the panel. “Reactivate security system.” She said. The red letters flashed up again. “Retinal pattern unrecognized. Security system reactivation denied.” Barbara tried again. “Retinal pattern unrecognized. Security system reactivation denied.”
Barbara sighed. She looked at her fingers, thinking “I’ll have to I-Phone a repairman and stay here ‘til they arrive.” Then, she heard something drop from the ceiling behind her. She turned to see a man made of silver, completely featureless, with a smooth oval for a head.
“Oh my god.” Barbara whispered.
A knife flicked out of the silver man’s wrist. In an instant, he slashed into Barbara’s left shoulder. She screamed, her hat falling off her head.
***
The girl pulled her arm away. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Somebody screamed.”
“All the more reason to get back inside this…this…what was it called again?”
“TARDIS.” The girl took a few steps forward. “We can’t just sit here.”
“Why not?”
“Whoever it is, they’re not part of the war, Grandfather! I can sneak by, lead them to safety…”
“Safety?” the raspy old voice rose. “Safety?! Is anybody safe from one of those dreadful killing machines?”
“Maybe not. But we can’t let an innocent die because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” The girl ran towards the sound of the scream.
The girl’s grandfather- an old man with short white hair, wearing a long black coat over a white collarless shirt- stepped out of the TARDIS. He stared down the hall. “That’s where you’re wrong, child. We’re the ones in the wrong place, the wrong time…”
***
Instinctively, Barbara touched her thumb and index finger together. She raised her thumb to her mouth. “Ian.”
Inside Ian Chesterton’s car, a soft, female voice cut through the satellite radio signal. “Incoming I-Phone Call From” a slight pause “Barbara.”
“Answer.” Barbara’s voice- as clear and natural sounding as it would’ve been if she were sitting in the passenger’s seat- replaced the music Ian had been listening to. “What’s going on, darling? Working overtime?”
Barbara spoke into the tip of her thumb, fighting against the pain to force her words out. “Ian! There’s a killer in the museum! Security’s down! I need you!”
Ian fought back an impulse to ask Barbara if she was joking. “Listen to her voice, man.” He thought. “Of course she’s not joking.” Ian told Barbara “I’ll call the police. I’ll be there…” He accelerated suddenly, floating past a police car.
“What the devil?!” Officer Kevin McRae looked up as his speed-gun clocked Ian’s car at 90 miles per hour. In the passenger seat, his partner, Tom Riley, tapped a button on the dashboard. A holographic display flashed across the window, displaying Ian’s rugged face and some basic information about him: “Name: Ian Chesterton. Occupation: Science Teacher, Coal Hill School. Resides In: London.” At the bottom of the display, in green capital letters, were the words “NO CRIMINAL RECORD”.
“Not even a speeding ticket.” Riley muttered.
“He’s about to get his first.” McCrae activated the hoverdrive. The police car floated a few inches above the ground, then launched after Ian. McCrae transmitted a message directly into Ian’s car. “Ian Chesterton. You have one minute to pull over to the side of the road and disengage your hoverdrive. If, after one minute, you have not complied with this direct order, your hoverdrive will be forcibly disengaged and your emergency wheels magnetically locked. To acknowledge this message, please transmit back to frequency 604. Thanking you kindly.”
Ian spied a glimpse of McCrae’s patrol car in his rear view mirror. “I guess I don’t have to call the police after all.” He sped on, trying to reach the Foreman Museum before his car lurched into a legally-enforced death.
***
The silver man lifted his hand and pointed at Barbara. Dozens of needlelike miniature spears shot out of its index finger. Barbara struggled to kick it, to run, to scream…to do something, but she found herself frozen.
“You!”
The silver man turned to face the voice. It was the girl from the police box. She rushed towards him. “Leave her alone!”
If the silver man had a mouth, it would smile. If it had a voice, it would express its pleasure over luring one of his two targets out into the open. Instead, it merely launched more spears out of its fingertips. Larger ones, capable of impaling the girl. The girl narrowed her eyes. Time seemed to slow around the spears. The girl plucked them out of mid-air, one by one, and dropped them on the floor. The silver man jumped into the air, and vanished.
The girl turned, knowing what was next. The silver man re-appeared behind her and wrapped his arm around her throat.
At that moment, laser bolts cut through the front doors, sending glass shattering all around. Ian charged into the room. He looked down. “Barbara!” He crouched, cradling her. “Barbara, can you hear me?!”
McCrae and Riley pointed their guns at Ian. “Stand down, Chesterton.” McCrae said.
“Sir, I think you may have said that to the wrong person.” Riley levelled his gun at the silver man.
McCrae followed suit, seeing the strange figure holding the young girl hostage as a bigger threat than a reckless driver. “Quite right.”
Ian looked up at the silver man. “That must be the killer she tried warning me about.”
“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Chesterton.” McCrae snapped. He then fired his gun directly into the silver man’s arm. He loosened his grip on the girl, who promptly dashed around the crossfire until she was next to Ian and Barbara. “Help me lift her up.” she told Ian.
McCrae and Riley launched a barrage of laser fire at the silver man. It smoked and shuddered, finally falling to the onslaught. McCrae laughed. “You put up more of a fight than he did, Chesterton.”
Ian and the girl lifted Barbara to her feet, propping her up by holding her arms around their shoulders. “What wrong with her?!” Ian shouted.
“She’s been drugged into paralysis. The Raston Warrior Robot was toying with her…she can see and hear everything that’s going on, but she can’t do anything to defend herself.”
“The what?!” Ian asked.
“Doesn’t matter.” McCrae said. “Take another step and you’ll be joining that thing back there. This is your final warning.”
The girl looked over her shoulder. “But the Raston Warrior Robot’s still there!”
McCrae smirked. “So? It’s not like it’s much of a threat.”
“Uh, sir…” Riley pointed at the smouldering heap that was the remnants of the Raston Warrior Robot. Its metallic skin smoothened itself out. The scorch marks on its body slowly vanished. It began twitching.
“It can’t be destroyed!” the girl cried. “Only delayed!”
McCrae leaned towards Riley. “Call for backup.”
“At once, sir.”
“What about us?!” Ian shouted at the officers. “My girlfriend needs medical assistance!”
Before either officer could answer, the Raston Warrior Robot stood again. Once more, it jumped into the air, then landed a few feet away from the officers. Instinctively, they fired at it. The Raston Warrior Robot sent its spears into their hearts, killing them instantly.
“There’s no way we can outrun that, can we?” Ian asked.
“I could, but you…” The girl shook her head.
Then, Ian and the girl heard a faint hum. The Raston Warrior Robot froze. Another figure at the end of the room held a small silver cylinder in his hand. The girl recognized him immediately. “Grandfather!”
“Get back to the TARDIS! At once!”
Ian and the girl moved as fast as they could, with Barbara in tow. They caught up to the old man at the other end of the main hall. While he walked slowly, Ian and the girl struggled to keep up with him as they tried to keep Barbara vertical. “When does this drug wear off?”
“It could be anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours. Depends on how much the Raston Warrior Robot wanted to torment her.”
“How do you know what that thing’s called?” Ian called out to the old man. “How’d you stop it? What’s that you’ve got in your hand?”
“Leave them behind, child. They’re slowing us down.”
“Nonsense!” Ian shouted. “We’re still moving just as fast as you are!”
“And letting the robot kill them would be just as bad as if we killed them ourselves.” The girl added.
The old man looked back at his granddaughter and Ian. “Very well.” He snapped.
The quartet reached the TARDIS and entered. The old man locked the door behind him. The girl and Ian laid Barbara on the floor. Ian looked around. He found himself in a large room, easily as big as his classroom, it not bigger. The walls were dark and wooden. Lighted bumps protruded from the walls in a regular, even pattern. A short black scarf hung on a wooden coat rack tucked away in a corner. The old man raced towards the centre of the room, towards a vaguely mushroom-shaped device propped up by what appeared to be four hollowed-out wood-panelled boxes. From the centre of that device protruded a red cylinder housed in a larger transparent cylinder. Ian marvelled at the odd scene. “How did you get all of this into that little box?”
“I didn’t.” The old man examined the device. “I don’t know how this damnable creation works!”
Ian stared at him. “Then what are you doing?!”
“There’s a way to activate a scanner screen on this console somewhere.” The Doctor tapped the mushroom-shaped device with his finger. “If I can find it, we can keep track of the Raston Warrior Robot without leaving the ship.”
The girl slipped down beside Barbara and touched her hand to Barbara’s face. “And what are you doing?!” Ian shouted.
“What I can to help her.” The girl closed her eyes. About twenty seconds later, she re-opened them. Barbara stirred. She looked around. “Are we safe?”
“For the moment.” The girl stood and extended her hand. Barbara took it, pulling herself up. “I telepathically removed all sensations of pain from your mind, and psychically rewired the nerves that the Raston Warrior Robot’s drug paralyzed. I can tend to your physical injuries in just a moment, after I run to the infirmary.”
Ian embraced Barbara. “Thank god.” He faced the girl. “And thank you. What’s your name?”
“I’m Susan, and that’s my grandfather. He calls himself The Doctor.”
“Susan!” the Doctor barked. “They already know too much!”
“We can mind-wipe them later, if we have to…”
Ian faced Susan. “Oh, you can, can you?”
Susan took a few steps back. “I don’t want to…”
“This is what happens when you get involved with outsiders, Susan. Things get messy.” The Doctor muttered.
“Susan and the Doctor…” Barbara repeated.
“Well, those are the closest Earth equivalents to our names. The TARDIS tries to translate everything into native languages.” Susan explained.
“You’re aliens.” Ian said.
The Doctor looked back at him. “Of course, man!” He turned his attention back to the console. One of the bumps on the wall irised open, revealing what looked like a window. The Raston Warrior Robot marched into the Princess Di wing. “There. That’s the scanner.”
“There’s nothing we can do to stop it?” Barbara asked.
The Doctor shook his head. “You can damage a Raston Warrior Robot, even literally tear it limb from limb, but it will always regenerate.”
“So what do we do?”
The Doctor’s head slumped down. “Hope it loses interest in us.”
“I’ll go to the infirmary.” Susan walked past her grandfather. The back wall slid up, allowing her to pass through. After her departure, the wall slid down again.
Barbara made her way to the console. “That’s no kind of answer. Those policemen that are on their way will be killed!”
The Doctor avoided her eyes. “It’s us or them.”
Barbara pressed on. “And what happens after it kills those policemen? Does it go through London, slaughtering everyone?”
The Doctor caught a flicker of movement on the scanner. The Raston Warrior Robot was at the TARDIS’s door. “Fortunately for your world,” he sneered “it seems to only want to kill us.”
There was a sharp thud at the door. The Raston Warrior Robot unsheathed its knife. The Doctor, Ian, and Barbara saw a metal tip poke through, cutting down the centre of the doors towards the lock. As Susan returned with a bag full of medical supplies, she joined her fellow travellers in terror. “Grandfather,” she said. “We have to leave.”
The Doctor considered her words. “I fear you may be right, child. But another trip through the vortex…”
Ian joined the Doctor and Barbara at the console. “Whatever it is…whatever chance you have to take, do it, man! Even if we die, it’ll be on our own terms. If we wait around here, it will kill us. What’s it going to be, Doctor?”
The door shook as the Raston Warrior Robot kicked the door.
The Doctor squinted, compressing his anger into the narrow folds of his eyes. “Before I do this, you should know that time travel is a very risky proposition.”
“Time travel?!” Barbara asked.
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?!” The Doctor flicked three switches on the console. “And now, against my better judgment…” The two centre cylinders rose in unison, then fell again. Over and over, they repeated its motion, moving in time with a wheezing, groaning noise. The police box vanished. The Raston Warrior Robot wrapped its hands around the edges of the TARDIS, holding tightly as it fell into an ever-changing patchwork of blues, reds, greens, and blacks.
Barbara’s eyes widened. “Is that what time looks like?”
“To you.” Susan answered. “You haven’t developed the perceptions to properly understand time yet. If you saw it unfiltered, you’d likely go mad.”
“You…what was your name again? Clatterson?”
“Chesterton. Ian Chesterton.”
“Er, yes. You and the lady should sit down. You too, Susan. This thing doesn’t come with seat belts, you know.”
Susan dropped to the floor along with Barbara. Ian remained standing. “Well why…” Ian was thrown to the ground before he could complete his question.
“Because if you’re already on the ground, you can’t fall.” Barbara replied.
The TARDIS swung, hard, to the left. The Raston Warrior robot’s feet flew off the base of the TARDIS, but its grip remained firm. It coiled its body, then launched its feet at the doors. They buckled.
“Stay down!” The Doctor swung the TARDIS to the far right. Sparks rose from the console, knocking the Doctor back. The ship drifted out of control. The Raston Warrior Robot’s grip loosened. The Doctor grinned. “Of course!”
“What?” Ian wondered if the old man had lost it.
“I’ve been trying to pilot the TARDIS against the timestream. The timestream keeps on buffeting the Raston Warrior Robot back towards the TARDIS. But if I let go and drift along, the drift will carry it away too! Sheer genius!” The TARDIS rolled and shook even more wildly than before. Ian and Barbara huddled against each other, preparing for the inevitable. Susan tried to reassure them. “Grandfather knows what he’s doing…I think…”
The colourful waves of the timestream washed over the Raston Warrior Robot. Just as the Doctor predicted, they carried the assailant away. The Doctor sprung to his feet and checked the controls, trying to assume some mastery over the TARDIS once more. “Oh dear.” He said.
“Is the robot coming back?” Barbara asked.
“No, no. It’s lost in the vortex. Unfortunately, so are we. This thing wasn’t meant for wild stunts. I’m afraid I’ve pushed it beyond its breaking point.”
Ian didn’t like the sound of that. “So what does that mean?”
“We’re going to float through space and time until we hit something.” The Doctor said.
Susan laughed nervously. “I hope it’s soft.”
A loud thud betrayed her wishes. Cut, dirtied, and bruised, the Doctor, Ian, Barbara, and Susan picked themselves up and examined the scanner. Outside lay a grey wasteland, completely devoid of life or civilization. “Looks like a cozy getaway spot.” Ian commented.
The Doctor shot him a look. “Indeed!”
Ian grinned. “You may be able to perceive the true nature of time, Doctor, but sarcasm eludes you.”
“As does a means of repairing this ship.” The Doctor stared at the screen, hoping that if he looked at it long enough, the hell he saw before him would transform itself into a paradise. “We’re defenceless and stranded.”
Barbara tried to allay the Doctor’s despair. “On the bright side, that’s not too different from our situation when we left London. Plus that robot’s no longer after us.” Just then, she noticed something in the distance. “Wait. Is that a city?”
“Hm?” The Doctor stared a little closer. He smiled. “It might be. It just might be.”
Susan bounded to the door. “What are we waiting for?”
Barbara coughed and pointed at the huge gash that ran along her left collarbone.
“Oh, of course.” She gathered her medical supplies off the floor and produced a small white tube. She ran it over Barbara’s cuts, sealing them with a white gel that reminded Barbara of shaving cream. “Now, what are we waiting for?!”
The four travellers left the TARDIS, wary but optimistic, believing that they’d left the worst of their journey behind them. Moments after their departure, a silver humanoid shape fell from the sky…
Doctor Who 2263
The Wrong Time
By GreggAllinson
“Do you need a lift? I can stick around for a few more minutes.”
Barbara smiled. “Thanks, Polly. Ian should be here any moment now. I’ll see you out, though.”
As Barbara and Polly walked through the gleaming halls and corridors of the I.M. Foreman Museum of European history, they passed a squat blue box behind four velvet ropes. Polly paused for a moment. “Is that new?”
Barbara sized the box up. “Must be. I’ve never seen it here.”
“Should we report it?”
Barbara considered the question. “If security had detected anything, I’d say yes, but I’m sure it’s an exhibit in progress.” She craned her head forward. “Ah, yes. See- there’s a sign: ‘Mid-20th Century British Police Public Call Box. Part of the Law Enforcement in the 20th Century Exhibit, opening January 2264’. It’s certainly in the right place.”
“It is?”
Barbara waved her arms around, indicating the Jackson Pollack original hanging on the wall, display case housing the original handwritten lyrics to In My Life, a full-scale model of the Recovery 7 space probe, and display pieces. “We’re in the Princess Di wing.”
Polly smacked her forehead. “Oh, right…20th century exhibitions. I should’ve realised!”
Barbara laughed gently. “I don’t expect you to know all the ins and outs of the Foreman Museum after only three days on the job. You’ll learn, Polly. You’re doing just fine so far.”
“There’s just so much to know. And these uniforms…” Polly tugged at the grey, utilitarian jumpsuit with red piping that clung to her body. “I mean, honestly, these are clothes?”
“It’s called retro future. People from the 20th century actually felt people in 2263 might dress this way.” Barbara tapped the pointed grey hat on her head with her index finger. “Makes us stand out, if nothing else, I suppose…”
As Barbara and Polly walked down a hall, out of the wing and towards the entrance, one of the two police box doors opened. A young girl with straight, short dark hair poking out from underneath a black leather cap, peeked her head out. She looked back into the police box and shouted “Grandfather, look at this!”
From inside the police box, a raspy voice shouted back “No! Get back in here, child!”
The girl disobeyed the order and took a few steps outside. “But it’s so interesting out here!”
A dark-sleeved arm shot out of the police box and grabbed the girl’s arm. “Interesting, more often than not, means dangerous! Get back in here!”
***
Barbara and Polly stopped at the glass doors that marked the Foreman Museum’s entrance. “Are you working tomorrow?” Polly asked.
“Closing tonight, opening tomorrow. What about you?”
“Tomorrow off, working Friday and Saturday.”
Barbara peered into a small flat black panel to the right of the entrance. “Barbara Wright, senior tour guide, temporarily deactivating security system to allow tour guide Polly Lopez out.” She stepped back and saw red digital letters scroll across the panel, informing her that the security system was successfully deactivated. She then unlocked the door for Polly. “I’ll see you Friday, Polly. Good night.”
“Good night, Barbara.”
After Polly left, Barbara closed the door and again peered into the panel. “Reactivate security system.” She said. The red letters flashed up again. “Retinal pattern unrecognized. Security system reactivation denied.” Barbara tried again. “Retinal pattern unrecognized. Security system reactivation denied.”
Barbara sighed. She looked at her fingers, thinking “I’ll have to I-Phone a repairman and stay here ‘til they arrive.” Then, she heard something drop from the ceiling behind her. She turned to see a man made of silver, completely featureless, with a smooth oval for a head.
“Oh my god.” Barbara whispered.
A knife flicked out of the silver man’s wrist. In an instant, he slashed into Barbara’s left shoulder. She screamed, her hat falling off her head.
***
The girl pulled her arm away. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Somebody screamed.”
“All the more reason to get back inside this…this…what was it called again?”
“TARDIS.” The girl took a few steps forward. “We can’t just sit here.”
“Why not?”
“Whoever it is, they’re not part of the war, Grandfather! I can sneak by, lead them to safety…”
“Safety?” the raspy old voice rose. “Safety?! Is anybody safe from one of those dreadful killing machines?”
“Maybe not. But we can’t let an innocent die because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” The girl ran towards the sound of the scream.
The girl’s grandfather- an old man with short white hair, wearing a long black coat over a white collarless shirt- stepped out of the TARDIS. He stared down the hall. “That’s where you’re wrong, child. We’re the ones in the wrong place, the wrong time…”
***
Instinctively, Barbara touched her thumb and index finger together. She raised her thumb to her mouth. “Ian.”
Inside Ian Chesterton’s car, a soft, female voice cut through the satellite radio signal. “Incoming I-Phone Call From” a slight pause “Barbara.”
“Answer.” Barbara’s voice- as clear and natural sounding as it would’ve been if she were sitting in the passenger’s seat- replaced the music Ian had been listening to. “What’s going on, darling? Working overtime?”
Barbara spoke into the tip of her thumb, fighting against the pain to force her words out. “Ian! There’s a killer in the museum! Security’s down! I need you!”
Ian fought back an impulse to ask Barbara if she was joking. “Listen to her voice, man.” He thought. “Of course she’s not joking.” Ian told Barbara “I’ll call the police. I’ll be there…” He accelerated suddenly, floating past a police car.
“What the devil?!” Officer Kevin McRae looked up as his speed-gun clocked Ian’s car at 90 miles per hour. In the passenger seat, his partner, Tom Riley, tapped a button on the dashboard. A holographic display flashed across the window, displaying Ian’s rugged face and some basic information about him: “Name: Ian Chesterton. Occupation: Science Teacher, Coal Hill School. Resides In: London.” At the bottom of the display, in green capital letters, were the words “NO CRIMINAL RECORD”.
“Not even a speeding ticket.” Riley muttered.
“He’s about to get his first.” McCrae activated the hoverdrive. The police car floated a few inches above the ground, then launched after Ian. McCrae transmitted a message directly into Ian’s car. “Ian Chesterton. You have one minute to pull over to the side of the road and disengage your hoverdrive. If, after one minute, you have not complied with this direct order, your hoverdrive will be forcibly disengaged and your emergency wheels magnetically locked. To acknowledge this message, please transmit back to frequency 604. Thanking you kindly.”
Ian spied a glimpse of McCrae’s patrol car in his rear view mirror. “I guess I don’t have to call the police after all.” He sped on, trying to reach the Foreman Museum before his car lurched into a legally-enforced death.
***
The silver man lifted his hand and pointed at Barbara. Dozens of needlelike miniature spears shot out of its index finger. Barbara struggled to kick it, to run, to scream…to do something, but she found herself frozen.
“You!”
The silver man turned to face the voice. It was the girl from the police box. She rushed towards him. “Leave her alone!”
If the silver man had a mouth, it would smile. If it had a voice, it would express its pleasure over luring one of his two targets out into the open. Instead, it merely launched more spears out of its fingertips. Larger ones, capable of impaling the girl. The girl narrowed her eyes. Time seemed to slow around the spears. The girl plucked them out of mid-air, one by one, and dropped them on the floor. The silver man jumped into the air, and vanished.
The girl turned, knowing what was next. The silver man re-appeared behind her and wrapped his arm around her throat.
At that moment, laser bolts cut through the front doors, sending glass shattering all around. Ian charged into the room. He looked down. “Barbara!” He crouched, cradling her. “Barbara, can you hear me?!”
McCrae and Riley pointed their guns at Ian. “Stand down, Chesterton.” McCrae said.
“Sir, I think you may have said that to the wrong person.” Riley levelled his gun at the silver man.
McCrae followed suit, seeing the strange figure holding the young girl hostage as a bigger threat than a reckless driver. “Quite right.”
Ian looked up at the silver man. “That must be the killer she tried warning me about.”
“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Chesterton.” McCrae snapped. He then fired his gun directly into the silver man’s arm. He loosened his grip on the girl, who promptly dashed around the crossfire until she was next to Ian and Barbara. “Help me lift her up.” she told Ian.
McCrae and Riley launched a barrage of laser fire at the silver man. It smoked and shuddered, finally falling to the onslaught. McCrae laughed. “You put up more of a fight than he did, Chesterton.”
Ian and the girl lifted Barbara to her feet, propping her up by holding her arms around their shoulders. “What wrong with her?!” Ian shouted.
“She’s been drugged into paralysis. The Raston Warrior Robot was toying with her…she can see and hear everything that’s going on, but she can’t do anything to defend herself.”
“The what?!” Ian asked.
“Doesn’t matter.” McCrae said. “Take another step and you’ll be joining that thing back there. This is your final warning.”
The girl looked over her shoulder. “But the Raston Warrior Robot’s still there!”
McCrae smirked. “So? It’s not like it’s much of a threat.”
“Uh, sir…” Riley pointed at the smouldering heap that was the remnants of the Raston Warrior Robot. Its metallic skin smoothened itself out. The scorch marks on its body slowly vanished. It began twitching.
“It can’t be destroyed!” the girl cried. “Only delayed!”
McCrae leaned towards Riley. “Call for backup.”
“At once, sir.”
“What about us?!” Ian shouted at the officers. “My girlfriend needs medical assistance!”
Before either officer could answer, the Raston Warrior Robot stood again. Once more, it jumped into the air, then landed a few feet away from the officers. Instinctively, they fired at it. The Raston Warrior Robot sent its spears into their hearts, killing them instantly.
“There’s no way we can outrun that, can we?” Ian asked.
“I could, but you…” The girl shook her head.
Then, Ian and the girl heard a faint hum. The Raston Warrior Robot froze. Another figure at the end of the room held a small silver cylinder in his hand. The girl recognized him immediately. “Grandfather!”
“Get back to the TARDIS! At once!”
Ian and the girl moved as fast as they could, with Barbara in tow. They caught up to the old man at the other end of the main hall. While he walked slowly, Ian and the girl struggled to keep up with him as they tried to keep Barbara vertical. “When does this drug wear off?”
“It could be anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours. Depends on how much the Raston Warrior Robot wanted to torment her.”
“How do you know what that thing’s called?” Ian called out to the old man. “How’d you stop it? What’s that you’ve got in your hand?”
“Leave them behind, child. They’re slowing us down.”
“Nonsense!” Ian shouted. “We’re still moving just as fast as you are!”
“And letting the robot kill them would be just as bad as if we killed them ourselves.” The girl added.
The old man looked back at his granddaughter and Ian. “Very well.” He snapped.
The quartet reached the TARDIS and entered. The old man locked the door behind him. The girl and Ian laid Barbara on the floor. Ian looked around. He found himself in a large room, easily as big as his classroom, it not bigger. The walls were dark and wooden. Lighted bumps protruded from the walls in a regular, even pattern. A short black scarf hung on a wooden coat rack tucked away in a corner. The old man raced towards the centre of the room, towards a vaguely mushroom-shaped device propped up by what appeared to be four hollowed-out wood-panelled boxes. From the centre of that device protruded a red cylinder housed in a larger transparent cylinder. Ian marvelled at the odd scene. “How did you get all of this into that little box?”
“I didn’t.” The old man examined the device. “I don’t know how this damnable creation works!”
Ian stared at him. “Then what are you doing?!”
“There’s a way to activate a scanner screen on this console somewhere.” The Doctor tapped the mushroom-shaped device with his finger. “If I can find it, we can keep track of the Raston Warrior Robot without leaving the ship.”
The girl slipped down beside Barbara and touched her hand to Barbara’s face. “And what are you doing?!” Ian shouted.
“What I can to help her.” The girl closed her eyes. About twenty seconds later, she re-opened them. Barbara stirred. She looked around. “Are we safe?”
“For the moment.” The girl stood and extended her hand. Barbara took it, pulling herself up. “I telepathically removed all sensations of pain from your mind, and psychically rewired the nerves that the Raston Warrior Robot’s drug paralyzed. I can tend to your physical injuries in just a moment, after I run to the infirmary.”
Ian embraced Barbara. “Thank god.” He faced the girl. “And thank you. What’s your name?”
“I’m Susan, and that’s my grandfather. He calls himself The Doctor.”
“Susan!” the Doctor barked. “They already know too much!”
“We can mind-wipe them later, if we have to…”
Ian faced Susan. “Oh, you can, can you?”
Susan took a few steps back. “I don’t want to…”
“This is what happens when you get involved with outsiders, Susan. Things get messy.” The Doctor muttered.
“Susan and the Doctor…” Barbara repeated.
“Well, those are the closest Earth equivalents to our names. The TARDIS tries to translate everything into native languages.” Susan explained.
“You’re aliens.” Ian said.
The Doctor looked back at him. “Of course, man!” He turned his attention back to the console. One of the bumps on the wall irised open, revealing what looked like a window. The Raston Warrior Robot marched into the Princess Di wing. “There. That’s the scanner.”
“There’s nothing we can do to stop it?” Barbara asked.
The Doctor shook his head. “You can damage a Raston Warrior Robot, even literally tear it limb from limb, but it will always regenerate.”
“So what do we do?”
The Doctor’s head slumped down. “Hope it loses interest in us.”
“I’ll go to the infirmary.” Susan walked past her grandfather. The back wall slid up, allowing her to pass through. After her departure, the wall slid down again.
Barbara made her way to the console. “That’s no kind of answer. Those policemen that are on their way will be killed!”
The Doctor avoided her eyes. “It’s us or them.”
Barbara pressed on. “And what happens after it kills those policemen? Does it go through London, slaughtering everyone?”
The Doctor caught a flicker of movement on the scanner. The Raston Warrior Robot was at the TARDIS’s door. “Fortunately for your world,” he sneered “it seems to only want to kill us.”
There was a sharp thud at the door. The Raston Warrior Robot unsheathed its knife. The Doctor, Ian, and Barbara saw a metal tip poke through, cutting down the centre of the doors towards the lock. As Susan returned with a bag full of medical supplies, she joined her fellow travellers in terror. “Grandfather,” she said. “We have to leave.”
The Doctor considered her words. “I fear you may be right, child. But another trip through the vortex…”
Ian joined the Doctor and Barbara at the console. “Whatever it is…whatever chance you have to take, do it, man! Even if we die, it’ll be on our own terms. If we wait around here, it will kill us. What’s it going to be, Doctor?”
The door shook as the Raston Warrior Robot kicked the door.
The Doctor squinted, compressing his anger into the narrow folds of his eyes. “Before I do this, you should know that time travel is a very risky proposition.”
“Time travel?!” Barbara asked.
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?!” The Doctor flicked three switches on the console. “And now, against my better judgment…” The two centre cylinders rose in unison, then fell again. Over and over, they repeated its motion, moving in time with a wheezing, groaning noise. The police box vanished. The Raston Warrior Robot wrapped its hands around the edges of the TARDIS, holding tightly as it fell into an ever-changing patchwork of blues, reds, greens, and blacks.
Barbara’s eyes widened. “Is that what time looks like?”
“To you.” Susan answered. “You haven’t developed the perceptions to properly understand time yet. If you saw it unfiltered, you’d likely go mad.”
“You…what was your name again? Clatterson?”
“Chesterton. Ian Chesterton.”
“Er, yes. You and the lady should sit down. You too, Susan. This thing doesn’t come with seat belts, you know.”
Susan dropped to the floor along with Barbara. Ian remained standing. “Well why…” Ian was thrown to the ground before he could complete his question.
“Because if you’re already on the ground, you can’t fall.” Barbara replied.
The TARDIS swung, hard, to the left. The Raston Warrior robot’s feet flew off the base of the TARDIS, but its grip remained firm. It coiled its body, then launched its feet at the doors. They buckled.
“Stay down!” The Doctor swung the TARDIS to the far right. Sparks rose from the console, knocking the Doctor back. The ship drifted out of control. The Raston Warrior Robot’s grip loosened. The Doctor grinned. “Of course!”
“What?” Ian wondered if the old man had lost it.
“I’ve been trying to pilot the TARDIS against the timestream. The timestream keeps on buffeting the Raston Warrior Robot back towards the TARDIS. But if I let go and drift along, the drift will carry it away too! Sheer genius!” The TARDIS rolled and shook even more wildly than before. Ian and Barbara huddled against each other, preparing for the inevitable. Susan tried to reassure them. “Grandfather knows what he’s doing…I think…”
The colourful waves of the timestream washed over the Raston Warrior Robot. Just as the Doctor predicted, they carried the assailant away. The Doctor sprung to his feet and checked the controls, trying to assume some mastery over the TARDIS once more. “Oh dear.” He said.
“Is the robot coming back?” Barbara asked.
“No, no. It’s lost in the vortex. Unfortunately, so are we. This thing wasn’t meant for wild stunts. I’m afraid I’ve pushed it beyond its breaking point.”
Ian didn’t like the sound of that. “So what does that mean?”
“We’re going to float through space and time until we hit something.” The Doctor said.
Susan laughed nervously. “I hope it’s soft.”
A loud thud betrayed her wishes. Cut, dirtied, and bruised, the Doctor, Ian, Barbara, and Susan picked themselves up and examined the scanner. Outside lay a grey wasteland, completely devoid of life or civilization. “Looks like a cozy getaway spot.” Ian commented.
The Doctor shot him a look. “Indeed!”
Ian grinned. “You may be able to perceive the true nature of time, Doctor, but sarcasm eludes you.”
“As does a means of repairing this ship.” The Doctor stared at the screen, hoping that if he looked at it long enough, the hell he saw before him would transform itself into a paradise. “We’re defenceless and stranded.”
Barbara tried to allay the Doctor’s despair. “On the bright side, that’s not too different from our situation when we left London. Plus that robot’s no longer after us.” Just then, she noticed something in the distance. “Wait. Is that a city?”
“Hm?” The Doctor stared a little closer. He smiled. “It might be. It just might be.”
Susan bounded to the door. “What are we waiting for?”
Barbara coughed and pointed at the huge gash that ran along her left collarbone.
“Oh, of course.” She gathered her medical supplies off the floor and produced a small white tube. She ran it over Barbara’s cuts, sealing them with a white gel that reminded Barbara of shaving cream. “Now, what are we waiting for?!”
The four travellers left the TARDIS, wary but optimistic, believing that they’d left the worst of their journey behind them. Moments after their departure, a silver humanoid shape fell from the sky…