Post by Dominic Smith on Jun 21, 2006 13:48:08 GMT -5
This is the first of ten short stories in my 'Mind Games' project, the next one should be up in a week or so.
Escape
He had done it. They had done it. The ship was in flight and was gaining speed; hurtling around the glowing time vortex, speeding away from Gallifrey where nobody was any the wiser. He looked around at the massive metallic chamber he stood in, the central console humming away as the glowing walls seemed to welcome him to his new home; the round patterns that lined the walls seemed to gel to his vision, as if he’d known them for an eternity.
The open inner door across the other side of the room showed the vast corridors, stretching out into the distance and leading away to places he was yet to examine. He walked up to the console and ran his fingers across the smooth panels, in-between the various buttons and dials and the vibrations inside seemed to begin pulsating with his heartbeat. His heartbeats. The humming of the machine embraced him and he slowly began to slip away from reality, ebbing further to merge with the machine.
With a stinging realisation he realised what was happening, he struggled with his own consciousness to try and regain control of his innermost thoughts but it was no use. The hypnotic vibrations overcame him and soon he saw what the intruding yet comforting computer saw as it looked deep into his soul, into his brain, into his the very essence of the deepest regions of his mind.
It looked into the distant and dormant pasts the man was concealing behind blinkered eyes. The origins of his own very being beyond the ancient looms of the mighty Time Lords, back to the areas of his mind that remained part of the man who gave up his own life for his beliefs, who left behind all he had to end it all and hid in a new guise. The man who lived a life so many would crave, amongst the luxuries the universe had to offer and who soon became another, destined to search the stars for adventure, beyond the tedium his past life secretly yearned to shed from his being and would go on to etch his life on the history of the universe throughout all time.
Reaching still further back the machine saw the existence that man had led a lifetime ago. The stately position, the life of power, and the terror that drove him insane. It settled on an incident that had happened so long ago, and yet so close to the events that had just occurred, the final straw that made the dead man’s mind snap.
He was in a grand chamber, a giant room draped in blackened cloth save the blood red pillars that held the hidden ceiling aloft. He faced a man sitting on a throne of jewels, his face darkened with thunder. He was yelling, protesting to the theories and warnings the man was dealing out to him. His mind was set in stubborn stone, he would not back down and end it all.
Silence fell and in the distance the cries and squirms of battling men could be heard, ringing in their ears. The firing of lasers and the booming reverberations of bombs powered by time itself rang out as the blood of the Time Lords was spilt all across the planet of Gallifrey, the ancient civilisation that had seen such better days but was now in a time of chaos, the reforms of it’s President piercing the heart of the planet and gutting the grounds of all civil life it once held.
Finally the man the machine was residing in spoke up, breaking the silence. He spoke once more of a warning, stressing that the battles raging outside were a waste, a travesty of all their race stood for. He paced his way around the room as his energy drained and his confidence fled. He begged again for his friend and colleague to stop but he was not listening.
The man before him stood up and looked coldly into his eyes. He stared into his soul and raised his arm. His guards emerged from behind the black-as-night drapes and slowly advanced forward towards him. He turned to look and found them closing in. The man before him remained still and soon he realised there was only one thing he could do. Run.
He fled across the room towards the massive doors on which were painted the past glories of Time Lord civilisation. He heaved them open and ran out into the darkened corridor, which was lined with corpses and those on the verge of the darkness beyond life. He fled towards a light far off in the distance but glanced back to find the armed guards pursuing them, their master yelling after them from within the draped room.
He had managed to find a communication station and he placed his override card into the pay slot. He knew he needed to help save his granddaughter; surely his family were no longer safe. He entered his palm prints into the screen and immediately his mind became at one with the mighty Matrix computer. Soon he had reached his granddaughter and told her to find a way off of the planet as soon as possible, and after scolding her for protesting signed off.
In the distance he could hear the clattering of armour as the guards sent after him began to advance, he once again began to flee, forgetting to pick up his override card. Soon he was in the inner sanctum of the citadel and was fighting his way through ancient cobwebs, past great sweeping windows displaying the carnage beneath them in the idyllic rose flower grove, the red petals of the roses melting with the blood spilt in the conflict.
He emerged in the light to find the locked doors that led to the ancient looms. He took from his pocket a key and unlocked the door before stepping inside and sealing it shut behind him. He looked around at the pouring streams of light, illuminating the endlessly dark chamber around him. As the guards outside began to pound on the door he ran along the single gantry that stood elevated amongst the streams of DNA.
He reached the end and turned in shock as the door gave way and the guards, guns raised, advanced towards him. He looked back at the stream before him and gulped. He could see the man from the throne room entering, still barking orders and ultimatums. He hoisted himself over the barrier of the gantry and looked back one last time. The guards froze and watched as he stared down into the endless abyss, lined with stunning streaks of blinding light. He let go of the barrier and pushed away from the gantry with his legs, diving into the data stream.
It was like diving into a pool of ice-cold water and as he was engulfed by the data time for him seemed to grind to a halt. Slowly he looked at his hands and fingers as he dived head first into the abyss. The very markings of his fingertips began to dissolve to dust, spilling and diffusing into the other data. His palms began to fade to nothing and the turgidness of his skin prevented him from flexing his fingers. He could feel his clothes immediately dissolve and sink, like dark matter, to places unknown in the data stream where reject stock would be collected.
He could feel his finger and toenails being expelled from his body and as his skin began to shrink, becoming evermore tight and restricting him to a hunched ‘bomb’ shape, rocketing on forever, deeper and deeper down. He could hear in his head the skin ripping at his elbows and knees, exposing his stinging muscles to the substance around him. His face began to bleed and strain, his bare cheekbones exposed as his skin and muscle began to dissolve and disappear. Slowly his eyes began to shrivel and his sight left him but still he could feel his body fading, dispersing and stinging. He tried to call out in agony but his vocal cords had snapped.
He could feel his body wither and fade, until only his Time Lord hearts remained whole, falling and falling, beyond the regions of forever…
***
The house of Lungbarrow was alive with excitement, the many cousins and elders running about preparing for a feast. The youngest cousin kept look-out at the grand windows looking out onto the plains of Gallifrey, occasionally looking up at the old hermit sitting on the hillside, who even seemed somewhat different today, more alive.
Then he saw the eldest elder of the house coming across the hillside, carrying a bundle in his arms. He stopped as the hermit approached and blessed the little package, calling the clouds to part and the sun to shine, marking him as special.
Soon the young cousin had warned the others and as the elder opened the front door a round of applause rang out across the great old house. Even the building itself seemed to welcome the new child, and soon the party had begun
***
The baby grew. A young man growing up in the house of Lungbarrow who proved his intelligence worthy of Rassilon himself. Yet all good things come to an end. A promising career soon became corrupt by dreams of better things. As the man became old and made his way into greater Time Lord society he realised that the race he had admired and wished to be involved in for so many years were no more than dusty old observers.
They sat by as the universe grew and aged, as battles rang out across the universe they sat and recorded what went on for future reference. He sat and grew tired of what the Time Lords stood for. He began to argue with the highest of command that letting other races slaughter each other for a misunderstanding was wrong, he felt, he knew that they should be out there helping them see sense but no-one seemed to care.
So his decision to flee came as not great surprise to anyone. He sat and planned how to carry the act out and one night he went to put it in action.
In the pitch of night he made his way to the citadel and there to the dry dock, where so many ships were waiting, but so were the guards. He managed to lock himself in one of the machines and use his limited piloting knowledge to undertake a basic take-off but he was unaware that his fleeing had not helped him to get to the ship. As the doors slid shut and he took off a giant casket had followed him there, and he instantly recognised it as the interstellar construction device known as the Hand of Omega.
Taken aback by its presence he watched as it linked itself with the main console, and instantly, amid bangs and flashes the ship took off. The casket then made it’s way deep within the other rooms of the ship but before he could chase after it, it had gone from sight.
He returned with much difficulty to the control room to find the doors open waiting for him. He walked out and by looking at the latest news report he realised he was many years in the planet’s past, a technical impossibility. He stumbled around until eventually a young girl ran up to him, calling him ‘grandfather’. In his minds eye he knew somehow she was right, something seemed to click within him that she was telling the truth. They were a family.
Suddenly a whistle blew and a patrol of guards was running towards them. They began to flee, and managed to get back to the ship the man had stolen. They got inside and he began to operate the controls, trying to remember what the casket had done before.
***
He had done it. They had done it. The ship was in flight and was gaining speed; hurtling around the glowing time vortex, speeding away from Gallifrey where nobody was any the wiser. He looked around at the massive metallic chamber he stood in, the central console humming away as the glowing walls seemed to welcome him to his new home; the round patterns that lined the walls seemed to gel to his vision, as if he’d known them for an eternity…
So what do you think?
All comments welcome
Dominic
Escape
He had done it. They had done it. The ship was in flight and was gaining speed; hurtling around the glowing time vortex, speeding away from Gallifrey where nobody was any the wiser. He looked around at the massive metallic chamber he stood in, the central console humming away as the glowing walls seemed to welcome him to his new home; the round patterns that lined the walls seemed to gel to his vision, as if he’d known them for an eternity.
The open inner door across the other side of the room showed the vast corridors, stretching out into the distance and leading away to places he was yet to examine. He walked up to the console and ran his fingers across the smooth panels, in-between the various buttons and dials and the vibrations inside seemed to begin pulsating with his heartbeat. His heartbeats. The humming of the machine embraced him and he slowly began to slip away from reality, ebbing further to merge with the machine.
With a stinging realisation he realised what was happening, he struggled with his own consciousness to try and regain control of his innermost thoughts but it was no use. The hypnotic vibrations overcame him and soon he saw what the intruding yet comforting computer saw as it looked deep into his soul, into his brain, into his the very essence of the deepest regions of his mind.
It looked into the distant and dormant pasts the man was concealing behind blinkered eyes. The origins of his own very being beyond the ancient looms of the mighty Time Lords, back to the areas of his mind that remained part of the man who gave up his own life for his beliefs, who left behind all he had to end it all and hid in a new guise. The man who lived a life so many would crave, amongst the luxuries the universe had to offer and who soon became another, destined to search the stars for adventure, beyond the tedium his past life secretly yearned to shed from his being and would go on to etch his life on the history of the universe throughout all time.
Reaching still further back the machine saw the existence that man had led a lifetime ago. The stately position, the life of power, and the terror that drove him insane. It settled on an incident that had happened so long ago, and yet so close to the events that had just occurred, the final straw that made the dead man’s mind snap.
He was in a grand chamber, a giant room draped in blackened cloth save the blood red pillars that held the hidden ceiling aloft. He faced a man sitting on a throne of jewels, his face darkened with thunder. He was yelling, protesting to the theories and warnings the man was dealing out to him. His mind was set in stubborn stone, he would not back down and end it all.
Silence fell and in the distance the cries and squirms of battling men could be heard, ringing in their ears. The firing of lasers and the booming reverberations of bombs powered by time itself rang out as the blood of the Time Lords was spilt all across the planet of Gallifrey, the ancient civilisation that had seen such better days but was now in a time of chaos, the reforms of it’s President piercing the heart of the planet and gutting the grounds of all civil life it once held.
Finally the man the machine was residing in spoke up, breaking the silence. He spoke once more of a warning, stressing that the battles raging outside were a waste, a travesty of all their race stood for. He paced his way around the room as his energy drained and his confidence fled. He begged again for his friend and colleague to stop but he was not listening.
The man before him stood up and looked coldly into his eyes. He stared into his soul and raised his arm. His guards emerged from behind the black-as-night drapes and slowly advanced forward towards him. He turned to look and found them closing in. The man before him remained still and soon he realised there was only one thing he could do. Run.
He fled across the room towards the massive doors on which were painted the past glories of Time Lord civilisation. He heaved them open and ran out into the darkened corridor, which was lined with corpses and those on the verge of the darkness beyond life. He fled towards a light far off in the distance but glanced back to find the armed guards pursuing them, their master yelling after them from within the draped room.
He had managed to find a communication station and he placed his override card into the pay slot. He knew he needed to help save his granddaughter; surely his family were no longer safe. He entered his palm prints into the screen and immediately his mind became at one with the mighty Matrix computer. Soon he had reached his granddaughter and told her to find a way off of the planet as soon as possible, and after scolding her for protesting signed off.
In the distance he could hear the clattering of armour as the guards sent after him began to advance, he once again began to flee, forgetting to pick up his override card. Soon he was in the inner sanctum of the citadel and was fighting his way through ancient cobwebs, past great sweeping windows displaying the carnage beneath them in the idyllic rose flower grove, the red petals of the roses melting with the blood spilt in the conflict.
He emerged in the light to find the locked doors that led to the ancient looms. He took from his pocket a key and unlocked the door before stepping inside and sealing it shut behind him. He looked around at the pouring streams of light, illuminating the endlessly dark chamber around him. As the guards outside began to pound on the door he ran along the single gantry that stood elevated amongst the streams of DNA.
He reached the end and turned in shock as the door gave way and the guards, guns raised, advanced towards him. He looked back at the stream before him and gulped. He could see the man from the throne room entering, still barking orders and ultimatums. He hoisted himself over the barrier of the gantry and looked back one last time. The guards froze and watched as he stared down into the endless abyss, lined with stunning streaks of blinding light. He let go of the barrier and pushed away from the gantry with his legs, diving into the data stream.
It was like diving into a pool of ice-cold water and as he was engulfed by the data time for him seemed to grind to a halt. Slowly he looked at his hands and fingers as he dived head first into the abyss. The very markings of his fingertips began to dissolve to dust, spilling and diffusing into the other data. His palms began to fade to nothing and the turgidness of his skin prevented him from flexing his fingers. He could feel his clothes immediately dissolve and sink, like dark matter, to places unknown in the data stream where reject stock would be collected.
He could feel his finger and toenails being expelled from his body and as his skin began to shrink, becoming evermore tight and restricting him to a hunched ‘bomb’ shape, rocketing on forever, deeper and deeper down. He could hear in his head the skin ripping at his elbows and knees, exposing his stinging muscles to the substance around him. His face began to bleed and strain, his bare cheekbones exposed as his skin and muscle began to dissolve and disappear. Slowly his eyes began to shrivel and his sight left him but still he could feel his body fading, dispersing and stinging. He tried to call out in agony but his vocal cords had snapped.
He could feel his body wither and fade, until only his Time Lord hearts remained whole, falling and falling, beyond the regions of forever…
***
The house of Lungbarrow was alive with excitement, the many cousins and elders running about preparing for a feast. The youngest cousin kept look-out at the grand windows looking out onto the plains of Gallifrey, occasionally looking up at the old hermit sitting on the hillside, who even seemed somewhat different today, more alive.
Then he saw the eldest elder of the house coming across the hillside, carrying a bundle in his arms. He stopped as the hermit approached and blessed the little package, calling the clouds to part and the sun to shine, marking him as special.
Soon the young cousin had warned the others and as the elder opened the front door a round of applause rang out across the great old house. Even the building itself seemed to welcome the new child, and soon the party had begun
***
The baby grew. A young man growing up in the house of Lungbarrow who proved his intelligence worthy of Rassilon himself. Yet all good things come to an end. A promising career soon became corrupt by dreams of better things. As the man became old and made his way into greater Time Lord society he realised that the race he had admired and wished to be involved in for so many years were no more than dusty old observers.
They sat by as the universe grew and aged, as battles rang out across the universe they sat and recorded what went on for future reference. He sat and grew tired of what the Time Lords stood for. He began to argue with the highest of command that letting other races slaughter each other for a misunderstanding was wrong, he felt, he knew that they should be out there helping them see sense but no-one seemed to care.
So his decision to flee came as not great surprise to anyone. He sat and planned how to carry the act out and one night he went to put it in action.
In the pitch of night he made his way to the citadel and there to the dry dock, where so many ships were waiting, but so were the guards. He managed to lock himself in one of the machines and use his limited piloting knowledge to undertake a basic take-off but he was unaware that his fleeing had not helped him to get to the ship. As the doors slid shut and he took off a giant casket had followed him there, and he instantly recognised it as the interstellar construction device known as the Hand of Omega.
Taken aback by its presence he watched as it linked itself with the main console, and instantly, amid bangs and flashes the ship took off. The casket then made it’s way deep within the other rooms of the ship but before he could chase after it, it had gone from sight.
He returned with much difficulty to the control room to find the doors open waiting for him. He walked out and by looking at the latest news report he realised he was many years in the planet’s past, a technical impossibility. He stumbled around until eventually a young girl ran up to him, calling him ‘grandfather’. In his minds eye he knew somehow she was right, something seemed to click within him that she was telling the truth. They were a family.
Suddenly a whistle blew and a patrol of guards was running towards them. They began to flee, and managed to get back to the ship the man had stolen. They got inside and he began to operate the controls, trying to remember what the casket had done before.
***
He had done it. They had done it. The ship was in flight and was gaining speed; hurtling around the glowing time vortex, speeding away from Gallifrey where nobody was any the wiser. He looked around at the massive metallic chamber he stood in, the central console humming away as the glowing walls seemed to welcome him to his new home; the round patterns that lined the walls seemed to gel to his vision, as if he’d known them for an eternity…
So what do you think?
All comments welcome
Dominic
