Paradox Lost [Complete Story]

[John Darnacan]

Part 1 - Grave Issues

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Deiter Osterman stared at the twin suns burning through a pink and yellow sky. He had never imagined he would ever see such a sight. Despite the two suns, a cool breeze blew across the beach of orange sand. He watched as dolphin-like serpents played and cavorted off shore in a turquoise sea. Their calls sounded like yodeling to Deiter. It was a perfect moment.

Had he never met the Doctor, such a view would have been quite impossible. He was standing on the shores of a planet 40,000 light years from Earth, a million years in the past. Faye had grudgingly told him of other wonders, of a planet that had sentient cabbages, and a people whose hair danced of its own accord. He wondered what other sights he would witness as he traveled with the Doctor and Faye.

Faye and the Doctor were inside the TARDIS. Faye approached the Doctor who was endlessly fiddling with the TARDIS controls.

“Doctor?”

“Yes?” She paused as she about to say something, creating an awkward silence.

“When, I mean where, were you planning to go next?” she asked anxiously.

“Hadn’t really thought about it. Where would you like to go? Versailles during reign of Louis XIV? Freylian V during the First Galactic Renaissance? Rome during the Pax Romana? You know, we never did make it to Braxis III.” Faye was silent for a moment.

“I was thinking more like England 2004.” The Doctor stared silently at the central column.

“Home?” he said softly. Faye couldn’t answer. “For a visit? Or for good?”

“Not sure” she mumbled. “I mean, it’s not urgent. If we need to go somewhere else first…” she murmured.

“Would you ask Deiter to come inside? I don’t want to leave him behind.” She went outside to retrieve their new traveling companion.

The Doctor, of course, understood. He had experienced this before. It was in part his recent regeneration. He was the same person, yet often companions had a very difficult time in accepting the physical change. Regeneration often changed his relationship with companions. Ben, Polly and Rose all doubted he was even the same person after regeneration even though they witnessed it themselves. If Faye wanted to depart, he would not stand in her way. He made that mistake with Ian and Barbara so long ago, and vowed to never make it again.

In addition, it was clear that Faye was not entirely comfortable with the inclusion of Deiter, a German from post-World War II, as their new companion. So far, the Doctor judged Deiter to be a fine addition to their little company. Deiter tried to be very respectful of both the Doctor and Faye. He tried to be helpful whenever he could. And, he never disobeyed or challenged the Doctor. Faye mocked his unquestioning loyalty sometimes by referring to him as “The Schnauzer”, something that the Doctor admonished her for. She stopped saying it openly, but occasionally he could hear it under her breath.

Faye and Deiter finally returned.

“Next stop, England 2004,” he announced. Faye looked uncomfortable. She was not sure what to say, or what she even wanted. Whatever it was, returning to England in 2004 might help her sort out her feelings.

The Doctor dematerialised the TARDIS. Deiter eagerly stepped forward to watch the Doctor operate the alien controls.

“Doctor, what will we find in England in 2004?” asked Deiter excitedly. For him, 2004 was the prospect an exciting adventure in the future. The Doctor looked up at Deiter.

“You know Deiter, I’m not sure,” he answered. He glanced back at Faye.

He turned back to the central console. After several minutes, the TARDIS materialised. The Doctor checked the readings.

“Oh sausages,” muttered the Doctor under his breath.

“What’s the matter?” asked Deiter.

“The date. We’re in England, but on the wrong date.”

“So?” inquired Faye. By now, Faye was used to the TARDIS not arriving exactly where and when expected.

“It’s a date I had preferred to avoid,” he sighed. “But I suppose it’s time. No putting it off.”

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Srintark, the Supreme Montriach of the Vrenyzz Continuum, floated in her compartment serenely. Vleeb approached and mentally signaled for her attention. After a protocol-mandated delay, the Supreme Montriach pirouetted gracefully mid-space to face him. Vleeb was in awe of her beauty, so delicate and graceful, particularly her deliciously translucent fin. And so all-powerful.



Attention was now officially given. No words would ever pass. Language was a primitive and completely unnecessary practice. Vleeb advised her that the device had completed its journey through the uniastic rift, and more importantly, had been initiated by the intended recipients.

Had the environmental chamber been prepared?

Vleeb replied in the affirmative. Srintark extended her tentacle in gratitude, an honour rarely granted by the Supreme Montriach. His own tentacle trembled in response.

Now, it was now only a matter of time.

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John walked up the hill toward the church. He had decided to park at a distance so as to not flaunt his expensive car. This was not an occasion for parading his financial success. The cold morning light shined brightly, making his hair seem whiter that the grey it actually was. He hoped he wasn’t late for the service. It was a sad occasion, as all funerals were. He was surprised that it wasn’t a more prestigious service given his old friend’s status, but apparently those were the wishes of the deceased. Even so, it would be a gathering of many retired comrades who would not be kept away.

Although John had left government service decades earlier, he still felt the old war horse. He had left after the death of his brother-in-law, to take over running his firm on behalf of his sister, who apparently had no head for business. He didn’t think he would do much better. However, as the President of Graydon Transport Corporation, he did surprisingly well, even expanding the business into other enterprises. He attributed his business success to the disciplines his old superior instilled in him, planning, communications, and flexibility. John smiled to himself.

Even though he left, John let it be known that he would be available to assist the government at anytime, if he were needed. The combination of his business resources and his security clearance made it an offer of value. Although, as a private citizen, he could never lead the charge as he had before, he was able to make an occasional albeit minor contribution, especially when discreet unofficial channels were needed.

He had kept in touch with his old mates over the years, although reunion nights at the Green Lion were fewer and fewer these days. Now the funerals would start. As ever, his old friend would lead, even in death.

As John approached the church, he saw the widow being consoled by a representative of the prime minister, and probably the king as well, given that the deceased had eventually been knighted. Just off to the side was the old gang, including the one who left in disgrace. Admittedly, the disgrace had been forgiven by most, given the circumstances. ‘There, but for the grace of God…’ he thought.

He approached the group, who saw him and returned smiles of recognition, sad smiles, some with tears. They were glad to see John, and he them, all of them, even with all the grey hair and wrinkles. He was surprised how many showed up. Comforting words were exchanged. Handshakes turned into hugs. Comforting kisses for the ladies. John carefully scanned the faces.

After all these years, John Benton wondered, ‘Would the Doctor show up for the funeral of the late Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart’?

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 2 – Remembrances and Bequeathals

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The funeral service had been a simple one. Afterwards, everyone stopped again to give their condolences to Doris: Creighton, Winifred Bambera, Harry Sullivan, Mike Yates, Jo Grant-Jones, Sarah Jane Smith, Liz Shaw, Carol Bell, along with many others. Doris was very gracious. The Brigadier had been ill for some time. To her, Alistair’s passing had not been a surprise, but she realised to others it was a terrible shock. Alistair was not one for pity, so few had been told of his illness. Doris was comforting others as much as they were comforting her. She was a strong woman. She would have to have been.

As the attendees started to disperse, Benton tried to round up as many as he could to go down to the pub, to reminisce, to mourn, to drink. He saw Mike Yates waiting in line to pay his respects. There were three people in front of him speaking to Doris, a man who appeared be in his forties and a younger man and woman. He was trying not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but couldn’t help hearing Doris’s final comment: “Thank you, Doctor.” Doctor was a common enough title, especially at a UNIT gathering, but he had to check. He surveyed the man with brown hair and a beard.

“Doctor?” The man stopped and turned, he smiled sheepishly.

“Sergeant Major Benton, how are you? I’m surprised you recognised me.”

“You weren’t thinking of slipping away? Were you?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he smiled.

“Some of us are meeting down at the Green Lion. We’d be pleased if you joined us.”

“Funny, that’s just where I parked the TARDIS,” the Doctor smiled.

Faye’s mood had lightened for the moment. She was eager to meet people whom the Doctor called friends. Deiter on the other hand seemed reluctant. “Doctor, these men were British soldiers. They might not want to have a drink with a German,” he confided. Deiter was sensitive to those who might consider him a Nazi.”

“Not to worry. None of these men fought in that war. We’re too far into the future,” the Doctor assured him. After all, it was 2018.

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The Green Lion was a typical pub in the English countryside where UNIT and ex-UNIT personnel would often gather. At least, it looked typical. Most didn’t understand why mobile phones wouldn’t work inside the pub. While all personnel were strictly bound by their secrecy pledges, UNIT had taken the added precaution of creating an electronic dead zone around the pub to prevent electronic eavesdropping.

Almost everyone in the Green Lion today had come from the funeral. The Doctor’s reappearance after his long absence buoyed their spirits. Some, the ones who had experienced a regeneration or two, embraced him immediately. Others, such as Liz Shaw, were more reluctant to accept the Doctor, since they had never experienced his multiple faces. Of course, John Benton, Jo Grant and Sarah Jane Smith had the unusual experience of meeting two or more of the Doctor’s regenerations at the same time.

It was a long afternoon of mourning, remembrances, tears, laughter and many pints. Although UNIT’s mission was quite broad, the Doctor’s mere presence turned discussions to Cybermen, Yetis, Daleks, and a host of other old foes. The Doctor sat at a corner table. John Benton brought over a couple of pints.

“How long has it been, Doctor?”

“In objective time, or subjective time?” John chuckled to himself. The same old Doctor. “You’ve been away from UNIT a long time, John. But you’ve done quite well for yourself. Head of a large corporation. Married too, I see,” said the Doctor gesturing to the wedding band on Benton’s finger. John smiled.

“Better late than never,” joked Benton. “My wife was hoping to make the service, but she was in Australia on business when the Brig passed away. She might be by later if we’re still here.”

“I’d be pleased to meet the lady who finally reeled in John Benton,” the Doctor chided. They both laughed.

Sarah Jane and Jo, who barely knew each other, cornered Faye, once they realised that she was the Doctor’s current traveling companion. All three traded TARDIS stories like they had known each other for ages. Of course, Jo still managed to work photos of her grandchildren into the conversation.

Deiter kept to himself, still uncomfortable with British military officers. He ordered a pint, but it wasn’t all like the German beer he was used to. Sensing his isolation, Harry Sullivan tried to make conversation, but it was awkward at best.

Some had noticed Mike Yates had not joined them. They assumed he was still sensitive about his disgraced departure from UNIT decades before. Mike had apparently offered his services to UNIT in a fashion similar to John Benton, but Colonel Creighton, the Brigadier’s immediate successor, rejected the idea of Yates having anything to do with UNIT again, and told him so, quite bluntly. So, they were equally surprised when Mike finally did show up. He avoided Creighton, but searched for the Doctor.

“Doctor, may I have a word?”

“Certainly, Mike. How have you been all these years?”

“Fine,” he lied. In fact, the years had not been so kind to Mike Yates, mainly because of the stigma of his unusual discharge from the military. However, he wasn’t about to complain about it today. “Doris asked me to bring this envelop to you, Doctor. Apparently, the Brigadier meant for you to have a number of things. But Doris said this envelope was of particular importance.”

Mike handed the envelop to the Doctor. In the Brigadier’s own hand it read:

To: “The Doctor”
From: A.G. Lethbridge-Stewart
Urgent!

The Doctor slit the envelope open. There was a single piece of paper inside. The Doctor read it and frowned.

“What’s in it?” asked Mike Yates. The Doctor showed him the slip of paper. “A date? That’s all?” he said incredulously. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” answered the Doctor.

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 3 – Invitation from Beyond

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The Doctor looked at the note perplexed. Suddenly, Winifred Bambera laughed out loud at a joke one of the old generals made. He was reminded of the incident at Carbury, the only time he worked with her. The Doctor had known the date of Lethbridge-Stewart’s death for many years, even back then. He died in bed, an old man, as it was meant to be. At Carbury, the Doctor thought that he accidentally changed the Brigadier’s fate. But luckily, he was only knocked unconscious. Of course, Alistair would have preferred to die heroically in battle. But fate had always decided otherwise.

With a journalist’s sixth sense, Sarah Jane Smith could tell something was up. She left Jo and Faye comparing notes on life in the TARDIS, and strode up to the Doctor. “I haven’t seen you since Deffrey Vale. The beard is quite distinctive. I’m trying to remember, is this the seventh or eighth face you’ve had? I loose count,” she teased.

“Actually, you’ve missed a few,” he smiled.

“Regardless of the face – and I do like this one – I can always tell when you’re bothered by something. So what’s going on, Doctor?”

“Sarah, does this date mean anything to you?” She looked at the slip of paper. “No, but if you’d like me to research it,” she offered. “I’ve got access to an impressive research archive.”

“No thank you, for now,” answered the Doctor. “As you journalists say, I may have a source.” He turned back to Yates. “Mike, where is Doris?”

“She went back to the house. She was rather tired, Doctor.”

“Could you drive me there? It may be important.” Yates agreed immediately. Although, Mike had been away from UNIT for decades, he remembered one thing: If the Doctor said something might be important, it usually was.

“Sarah, would you mind telling Faye and Deiter, I’ll be back soon.”

“Not on your life, Doctor,” she shot back. “I’m not letting you slip away. I’m going too. Doris and I grew very close during Alistair’s illness”.

“Very well, I suppose they’ll get along without me for a bit.”

Ten minutes later, Mike Yates’s Land Rover pulled up to the country house. The garden was impeccable. Alistair was as disciplined a gardener as he was a soldier, even to the end.

“You two wouldn’t mind waiting outside, would you?” asked the Doctor. They stared back disapprovingly. “Didn’t think so.” He knocked softly. Doris opened the door almost immediately, almost as if she were expecting someone.

“Hello Doctor.”

“Hello Doris, I sorry for disturbing you.”

“No, no, I was hoping you’d stop by,” Doris smiled.

“Does that mean you know what was in the envelope?”

“No, I have to admit, I am curious. Alistair made me promise I’d get it to you, but never told me what was in it.”

“How did he know the Doctor would be around to receive it?” Sarah blurted out. “I mean, the Doctor’s been rather elusive the last few decades.” She gave the Doctor a sideways glance. He ignored Sarah’s comment.

“Doris, do you know the significance of this date?”

“Is that what was in the envelope?” she asked with an incredulous laugh. She sat down. “Oh Alistair!” she cried as she glanced toward the heavens with look that admonished her late husband as a foolish old man. She took a moment to collect herself, then took the slip and looked at it. “I don’t have a good memory for dates, but wasn’t that about the last time you visited us? After Alistair’s last big meeting at UNIT headquarters. Yes, that was it, with that lovely girl Faye, and that big German fellow…what was his name?”

“Deiter?”

“Yes, that was him. Quiet chap, he was.”

“I suppose so,” the Doctor answered softly. Of course, he had no recollection of such a visit.
And as Deiter has just joined him in the TARDIS, there was only one way Doris could have met Deiter. That visit had yet to occur.

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It was a quiet drive back to the pub. Mike’s Land Rover parked directly in front of the Green Lion.

“Mike, would you ask Deiter and Faye to join me out here?” Mike Yates nodded that he would.

“So what are you going to do?” asked Sarah.

“Go back and find out,” he answered.

“I want to come too,” Sarah blurted out instinctively.

“Not this time. The temptation to change time would be too great.”

“Doctor, maybe Alistair wasn’t meant to die. We could do something! I mean he was your friend too!”

“He was.”

This was why the Doctor generally avoided funerals. People would want him to go back in time to change events and save the deceased. During such an emotional time, no one wanted to hear about the web of time or temporal laws. They only wanted their loved one back.

“Alistair was sick for quite a while. You said so yourself, Sarah.”

“Perhaps, if I examined him,” came a voice from behind the Doctor. “And diagnosed him early.”

The Doctor turned to find Harry Sullivan, along with Mike, Jo, Liz, and John Benton. It didn’t take him a nanosecond to figure out what was going on. Mike Yates must have revealed that the Brigadier had left a note for him, and that the Doctor would probably being going back in time to see Alistair. He could tell by their faces, they all wanted to come with him.

“Faye and Deiter, we must be going.”

“Doctor?” called Jo. “I really want to come with you; can’t I?” Before she could get the words out of her mouth, the Doctor raised his hand. Looking at Jo, he realised how much he missed them all. But that changed nothing.

“Only Faye and Deiter can come, according to Doris.”

“At least, come back and let us know what happens….I mean happened,” pleaded Sarah.

“If I can,” answered the Doctor. He motioned for Faye and Deiter to return with him to the TARDIS behind the pub.

The others just looked sad as they watched them leave.

“Now, now,” Benton said comfortingly. “I think I might have a little story to cheer you up.” He motioned the others back into the Green Lion. They all paused as they heard the grinding of the TARDIS dematerialising in the distance.

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 4 – Night Flight

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Four years earlier, at a small airport north of London, a private jet was being readied for one of the air service’s best clients. The sun had set. Pilot George Whitaker didn’t favour night flights, especially one so late. He only agreed because it was one of his best and favourite clients. He had flown John Benton many times before. Today, his flight plan called for flying Benton and a colleague, Mr. Gordon to Berlin for a technology conference.

He saw that Benton was as punctual as ever. He came across the tarmac to greet George warmly. Mr. Benton wasn’t one of those stuck-up executives he usually flew. He was a man who knew what it was like in the trenches.

“Good evening, Mr. Benton."

“Good evening, George. Sorry to keep you up past your bedtime,” he joked.

George smiled. “No problem. I understand we have another passenger tonight?”

“Yes, Mr. Gordon and I will be discussing business on the way. So, I won’t be joining you in the cockpit this flight. Mr. Gordon prefers privacy.” George understood completely. Benton would often sit in the sit in the thingypit with George and share in the flying duties. Benton had gotten his pilot’s license a couple years before. Although he wasn’t as qualified as George, he wasn’t a bad pilot.

“Is this your Mr. Gordon now?” George inquired.

They turned to see an elderly man with a white mane of hair and a goatee, get out of a car.

“Yes, that’s him. Let’s take off as soon as possible. Eh, George?”

John Benton helped “Mr. Gordon” onto the plane. The older man looked impressed.

“Hmmm, much more comfortable than those old crates we used to fly around in.” He grinned, as he surveyed the nicely appointed executive jet. “But of course, we had radar, sonar, telemetry and anti-aircraft guns.”

“But this craft has a few items we didn’t back then” answered Benton, handing him a glass of single-malt scotch.

“Drinking on duty, Sergeant Major?” The man chided in mock military outrage.

“There are certain advantages of being a civilian,” Benton replied, smiling broadly. “To your health, Sir Alistair.” They both took a sip, although Alistair swallowed less than he would have when he was younger. He knew his physician wouldn’t approve.

Benton noticed Sir Alistair rubbing his left hand. “Everything OK?”

“Fine, just poor circulation at my age. Goes numb sometimes. Nothing to worry about.” Benton nodded and smiled.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why the special cloak and dagger just to go to UNIT Headquarters?”

“I’m not exactly sure. You know as much as I do. And by the way, I do thank you again for arranging transport…John.” He had almost called him sergeant. “We’ll see you’re reimbursed for this little ride in the usual way.”

The ‘usual way’ was the purchase of goods from one of Benton’s companies. There would be an agreed ‘service fee’ on the invoice attached to cover such hidden, but legitimate expenses such as this flight. But never a profit. John Benton wouldn’t hear of it. He felt it a duty to help.

“Speaking of transport, I need to advise George of the change. He won’t be happy violating his flight plan.”

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The private jet landed at a private airstrip on the edge of Geneva, Switzerland. A black Audi was waiting for them. In the darkness of night, they were whisked not to the publicly known headquarters of UNIT, but to an office building in the outer business district. There, they were met at the curb by a young blonde woman named Marta Riegenstadt.

“Lord Greyhound?” she asked, not realising she was using a variation of an old codename, Greyhound One. They entered an elegant lobby with a large seven-foot cut-crystal globe sitting on a low broad pedestal in the middle of the entranceway. Lethbridge-Stewart wondered which government footed the bill for this extravagance. Probably the French, he guessed. Why was such an expensive and ostentatious sculpture adorning a secret facility? He detested government waste, regardless of which government.

It was all part of the precarious role of UNIT. Few people understood the complex structure of the organisation. Chartered by the United Nations, UNIT had the secret mission of defending Earth against extra-terrestrial threats. Yet, each section was still answerable to their host country. This created an inherent conflict of interest. Every member of UNIT was dedicated to defending the planet, yet they always had the pull of nationalism and the myopia of politicians to contend with. This meant information and technology found by one section did not always flow between all the sections. While he was head of the UK section of UNIT, Lethbridge-Stewart tried his best to make information flow to Geneva as well as possible. Yet, he could not refuse an order from the British prime minister, sometimes despite his better judgment.

He saw the commemoration plaque out of the corner of his eye. He was wrong; the crystal behemoth was donated by Sweden. Made by Swarovski, he guessed.

Marta led her two British guests to a lift, which instead of taking them up, took them down, very deep in the Swiss bedrock. The young blonde woman turned to them.

“Sir Alistair, I just wanted to say it is a pleasure to finally meet you. You are a legend here at UNIT Headquarters.” Benton wasn’t sure, but he thought the Brig was blushing.

“Thank you, young lady. Just remember, legends are clouded and embellished by time,” he answered with characteristic modesty. The doors opened to a security desk flanked with security guards armed with sub-machine guns. Lethbridge-Stewart stepped forward to sign-in.

“That will not be necessary, Sir Alistair. Nor for you, Mr. Benton,” said Marta. Benton had never been to UNIT World Headquarters, and therefore had no idea what the normal security protocols were. But apparently, this was anything but a normal visit.

They were led to a circular conference room, with a large circular conference table.

“Welcome, Sir Alistair” said a Frenchman

“Hello Francois,”

“Thank you for coming all this way. And thank you, Monsieur Benton for providing Sir Alistair with such discrete transportation.”

“My pleasure,” responded Benton.

“Now, if you will excuse us,” Francois Schrivel said. “Marta will accompany you to a waiting area.”

“That will not necessary” interrupted Lethbridge-Stewart. “John Benton served UNIT with distinction for many years. There is no human being I trust more.”

Benton smiled slightly, but not out of pride as Schrivel might have thought. It was just that there was someone the Brigadier trusted more. He just happened to not be human.

Schrivel was not happy with Sir Alistair’s impromptu inclusion of Benton in their meeting, but given it was Lethbridge-Stewart, he acquiesced. “Very well.” The Frenchman gestured for them to sit. “It seems that UNIT security has been compromised”

“How so?”

Francois Schrivel pressed a button. The room darkened. A hologram was projected on the center of the table.

“What’s that?” Sir Alistair asked.

“The reason you are here. We know that you have had more experience with extraterrestrial threats than anyone in UNIT. It is rumoured that you even had – what is the expression – gone ‘off-world’ after you retired from UNIT? So I must ask you, have you ever seen a device such as this?”

The holographic projection showed an image what appeared to be a greenish mass with pulsating lights inside an irregularly-shaped transparent block. The legend identified the projection as Case 7155.



“I can’t say that I have. Where did you find it? Antarctica?” asked Alistair. It was not an unreasonable guess, as the device was encased in ice.

“Floating in the Atlantic, in the Bermuda Triangle to be more precise.”

“Have you tried thawing it out?” ventured John Benton.

“We have. The ice is almost more interesting than the device itself. It refuses to melt. Our scientists have used everything from blow torches to high-intensity lasers. One of our technicians even suggested throwing the thing into a blast furnace.”

“Perhaps it’s not ice at all,” mused Lethbridge-Stewart.

“Or perhaps there’s a force field around the ice block,” suggested Benton.

“We thought of both those possibilities. Chemical analysis suggests it nothing more than water ice, with zero impurities. And there doesn’t appear to be any electro-magnetic field whatsoever. No radiation either. But that’s not the most interesting thing.” Francois Schrivel paused. “The temperature of the ice is colder than liquid hydrogen, exactly 273 degrees Celsius below zero, in other words, ‘absolute zero’.”

Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart was no scientist, but years of being exposed to various terrestrial and extra-terrestrial sciences and technologies had given him a rudimentary understanding of the basic laws of physics. No object could achieve a temperature of absolute zero, the temperature where even molecular vibration would theoretically cease. In essence, matter would cease to exist at that temperature. Even objects farthest from a star in the iciest depths of space could not get that cold. Scientists had admittedly achieved getting within a small fraction of a degree of absolute zero, but never all the way. It was one of the limits of the universe, like the speed of light.

“Impossible,” breathed Lethbridge-Stewart. “And no matter what you did, the temperature always stays the same?”

“Yes, it’s what our scientists call the perfect ‘heat sink’. An incredible find. In addition to that, it seems to have no weight. One of our scientists think that without the ice, the object would float away.”

“Have you tried chipping the device out?” asked Benton.

“One of our technicians attempted just that, but accidentally touched the ice and died, froze to death. Given the unknown nature of the device, I suppose they thought it not wise to continue the attempt,” answered Schrivel. He turned and adjusted the holographic control. “One of our scientists has created an imaging programme to correct for the optical distortion caused by the ice.” The device came into clearer focus. The pulsations were revealed to be some sort of alien read-out.



“According to our symbologists and cryptologists, the symbols are clearly a progression, probably numeric.”

“You mean a countdown” Benton guessed.

“A time bomb?” Sir Alistair asked

“Or a clock?” suggested John Benton.

“Possibly, but can we take that chance?”

“How much time is left in the countdown?” asked Sir Alistair.

“They don’t know. It could be a minute or a millennium. And what makes things really complicated is that the device has been stolen from our laboratories.”

“Out of a secure UNIT facility?” asked Sir Alistair, astounded. Schrivel nodded sheepishly. “Any suspects?”

“We can only think of one party that would be interested in such completely unknown alien technology --. Geocomtex.”

“Henry Van Statten?”

“We’re not sure. We’ve had reports that Van Statten’s recent reclusiveness may really mean he’s no longer running Geocomtex.”

“Then who is?”

“We’re not sure. Legally, the Van Statten still has control, but UNIT’s American section has received reports that may not actually be the case. Apparently, there was an incident in their Utah complex two years ago. Strange stories about something called a Metaltron. We don’t know very much, but apparently there were quite a few deaths involved, even bizarre rumours about filling the whole complex in with concrete. Whether Van Statten was among those killed on not, we’ve not been able to determine.”

“Can’t the American authorities do something?” Benton asked incredulously.

“Without proof, the Americans are reluctant to challenge such a powerful corporation.”

“Bloody politicians,” muttered Lethbridge-Stewart. “Very well, I’ll see what I can do. I may be able to contact my former scientific advisor. He may be able shed some light on the nature of this device. Perhaps even suggest a way to track it.”

At that moment, an alarm went off. Schrivel immediately picked up the telephone and demanded an explanation.

“Impossible,” snapped Schrivel angrily.

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To Be Contiunued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 5 – Intruders’ Reunion

The intruder alarm finally stopped blaring. Schrivel picked up a phone and called security, demanding an explanation. “Bon!,” he exclaimed. He put down the handset and turned to them. “We may have a break. Security has just captured an intruder, someone we can interrogate.”

Lethbridge-Stewart and Benton followed Schrivel out of the room and down to the security center. Once in the security section, they saw a young man whom security had detained, a tall blonde man being interrogated.

“How did you infiltrate this complex?” demanded Wolfgang Reitsig, Chief of Security.

“I’m not sure,” answered the man. Reitsig was not impressed with answer and slapped the man.

“Perhaps a simpler question. What is your name?”

“Deiter Osterman” he answered.

Reitsig had a funny look on his face, as if this news caught him off-guard. He had had a great uncle by that name, one who had disappeared sixty years earlier in South America. A concidence, nothing more, thought Reitsig dismissively. Before Reitsig could ask another question, another intruder alarm sounded. Reitsig eyes bulged in frustration and anger. One intruder was infuriating and embarrassing, but two made Reitsig think his career might end here and now, especially after the humiliating theft of Case #7155.

“Swiss cheese?” Benton mused softly, so only Lethbridge-Stewart could hear. Alistair returned a slight smirk that acknowledged Benton’s assessment of the ‘holes’ in UNIT’s security.

“Where is the other intruder?” Reitsig snapped at a subordinate.

“Corridor E-6, this level” the subordinate answered, indicating the exact location on a holographic map.

“Perhaps if you sent two detachments up these two parallel corridors,” suggested Lethbridge-Stewart. “Isolating the intruder quickly.” Reitsig bristled at the presumption of this Englishman.

“You’re ze Brigadier!” Deiter blurted out, realising he was seeing a dead man very much alive.

“The intruder is moving” warned Reitsig’s subordinate.

“Which way?”

“Toward us”

“Ah, that would be Faye,” said a voice from behind them. “She tends to run late.” They all are turned to find an unidentified man standing in the doorway. “Hello Alistair, Doris told me I might find you here. By the way, your garden’s looking quite well.”

“Doctor” called Faye. “I couldn’t find my way back to the TARDIS with all these…” She stopped suddenly at the sight of Sir Alistair.

“This explains a lot” announced Alistair. “Doctor, it’s good to see you again.”

“This explains nothing” ejaculated Reitsig. “Who are these people?”

“Francois, this is the Doctor, the former scientific advisor I spoke of.” He turned to the Doctor. “Nice beard, Doctor”

“Vice versa,” he smiled. “What seems to be the problem?”

“How did you know there was a problem?” Alistair asked, curiously.

“Coming out of retirement; coming all the way to UNIT Global Headquarters. Something’s up,” the Doctor replied. He thought it better not to mention the note and Alistair’s funeral.
“This is Faye. And I believe you’ve already met Deiter.”

“Since you are here, Doctor, there is an object I think you’ll find quite interesting.”

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After Lethbridge-Stewart calmed everyone down and secured Deiter’s release, they returned to the conference room where Shrivel explained about the situation and showed the Doctor images of the device. The Doctor poured over the data.

“This is amasing, an object with zero mass, yet it has a profound effect of neutrinos,” the Doctor pondered.

“I beg your pardon.”

“Neutrinos are particles generated by stars, including the sun. They have little trouble passing through most matter. Not much affects them.” The Doctor could see they weren’t following him. “If at noon, you looked up at the sun, a certain number of neutrinos would pass through you eye. If at midnight, you looked straight down, approximately the same number would pass through your eye. Even the mass of a planet has little effect. Yet this object of zero mass has a profound effect; it actually attracts them.”

“It’s clearly from beyond our universe, since it defies our most basic laws of physics,” the Doctor concluded. “And there does seem to be a countdown going on. But I’m not sure that it’s a linear one.”

“What do you mean?” asked Schrivel.

“I’ll need to examine it directly,” decided the Doctor. There was an awkward silence. “Well?”

“Apparently, it’s been stolen,” said Alistair, looking at Schrivel.

“Stolen? This is a very dangerous piece of technology, Brigadier. It must be found!” the Doctor insisted.

“I’m afraid, I’m not in charge here,” responded Lethbridge-Stewart who turned back to Francois Schrivel, who looked extremely uncomfortable.

“We are working on recovery now,” answered Shrivel. “In the meantime, perhaps you could give us an idea of the function of the device, or at least how far we are from zero in this countdown?”

“I’ll need a large sphere to do the calculations on. A large ball might do.”

“A large ball? This is not a sports arena. And there are no stores open at this hour.”

“Wait,” interrupted Sir Alistair. “I know where there’s a rather large sphere nearby.”

“We have some of the most advanced computers in the world here,” interuppted Schrivel. “Can’t you…”

“Where’s the sphere?” asked the Doctor.

“In the lobby.” Lethbridge-Stewart led the way.

The Doctor smiled upon seeing the seven-foot crystal globe. “Perfect,” breathed the Doctor. “I’ll need some erasable markers, in several colours, if you have them.”

Over the objections of Francois Schrivel, the Doctor proceeded to use the expensive sculpture as a curved marker board. The calculations interconnected in a way that couldn’t have been done on a flat surface. The way the equations crossed the clear sections that represented land and the frosted areas that represented oceans and seas, it was clear that this exercise had nothing to do with geography. However, it seemed suspiciously familiar to Faye.

She approached the Doctor. He was double-checking a portable holographic record of the iced-in device, as he was scribbling some symbols in between Tanzania and New Zealand.

“This reminds me of that Felgrew Conjecture thingy that Draist pulled from your mind at Salumbra.”

“Shhh, never mention that term out loud again!” demanded the Doctor in stern whisper. “Never!” He paused. “But there is a similarity. This uses certain similar derivative trans-mathematical principles.”

Faye was lost when it came to mathematics, but could see an elegant, almost artistic pattern to these symbols. She turned and looked at the living, breathing Sir Alistair whom she had seen in a casket just several hours before. Of all the times she had spent traveling in the TARDIS with the Doctor, this seemed the most surreal, not the most terrifying or wondrous, but definitely the most surreal.

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Kendra Forge was overseeing the loading of the truck. She had almost said ‘lorry’ earlier. She was annoyed at almost slipping. She had long mastered the subtleties of various American dialects and accents. Her father was an American. After her parents divorced, she would spend holidays in California, New York, Texas, or wherever her father was working that year. As a young girl she noticed the different accents and could mimic them quite easily. She later would go on mimic all the accents of her mother’s native England. Later she could even distinguish and execute the various Irish, Scottish, Canadian, Australian and New Zealand accents. This was beyond the three other languages she spoke with linguistic precision. To have slipped saying ‘lorry’ would have been unforgivable according to her own code of personal perfection.

The unloading of the crates was taking far too long. It was clear what was going on. She had worn a tight outfit, one she usually found motivated men to please her. However, she had miscalculated today. Martino, the dock manager, was delaying, probably to keep her around. She had noticed him watching her. Most men were discrete enough to steal glances without staring. Martino lacked that discretion. It was time to put Martino’s libido in check. She walked up to Martino who turned with a smile on his face, but not looking at her face.

“Mr. Martino, we are now twenty minutes behind schedule,” she reported.

“Ms. Forge,” he grinned. “These are heavy crates with valuable contents.” Of course, Martino knew nothing of the value or nature of the true contents. “Little Lady, it would be irresponsible on me to bang them around risking possible damage.” She ignored his patronising tone. She gently took his rough-skinned right hand in hers.

“Mr. Martino…” she said softly. Then she wrapped her fingers around the fingers and thumb of his right hand, squeezed them together, and twisted his wrist out and down, driving him to his knees. Using this leverage required little strength, but was quite effective in causing pain. Her tone became harder.

“You will finish loading all the crates onto the truck immediately. ‘Immediately’ means within the next five minutes. Do you understand me?” Martino nodded, again not looking her in the face, but now out of embarrassment. “Otherwise, I shall be quite cross.” She gave a little extra painful twist, just for the ‘Little Lady’ comment.

The remaining crates were loaded in three and a half minutes. That included four large crates and the smaller one marked ‘Case 7155’.

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 6 – A Shattered World

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The Doctor had completely covered the seven-foot crystal sphere in marker. The alien calculations looked almost artistic as the morning sun struck the globe through the front door. The Doctor stood back to survey them. He scowled. Sensing a conclusion, Lethbridge-Stewart approached the Doctor.

“Well?” The Doctor held up his hand, and waved for Faye to come over. He instructed her to wipe all his markings off the glass sphere. He then turned back to Lethbridge-Stewart.

“It’s worse than I thought,” the Doctor reported. “The progression is accelerating.”

“Accelerating towards what? An explosion?”

“Not in the conventional sense”

“That’s a relief.”

“It shouldn’t be. It’s worst than a conventional bomb.”

“How bad will the damage be? A city? A country? Alistair waited for the bad news. “Not the entire planet?”

“The entire universe,” the Doctor answered. The Brigadier laughed as if the Doctor had delivered the punchline to a joke. The Doctor stared at him. He was not a joking.

“Doctor, I know you’re an all-knowing Time Lord and all that. But I do know there are billions of stars in the galaxy, and billions of galaxies in the universe, all with an enormous amount of empty space in between.”

“It’s not an explosive device in any ordinary sense. This device, whether intended to or not, is ripping apart the fabric of our universe. All the physical laws, from electromagnetism to gravity to the time vortex, will cease to operate.

“So we’ll all float off into space?”

“Brigadier, the very mechanisms of energy and matter cohesion won’t work. Everything, our bodies, the stars, even space itself will cease to exist!” Alistair looked at him incredulously. If the Doctor told him aliens were attacking, or a bomb would destroy the Earth, or a plethora of far-fetched things were going to happen, he would believe him without hesitation. But that existence itself would cease to exist, that was hard to swallow.

The Doctor continued, “Think of the universe as a balloon. And this device is a pin. You don’t need a big pin. A small pin is just as effective. You must believe me.”

“It doesn’t matter whether I believe you or not. We have to recover that device, even if it’s only a fraction as powerful as you say.” This was what the Doctor generally liked about Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart. He didn’t have to completely believe to act. He always erred on the side of a caution, rather than delaying to argue that a fantastic hypothesis was impossible.

“Doctor,” Faye interrupted. “Some of the equations won’t come off.”

“What? I asked for erasable markers!” He looked at the globe in frustration. The equation wiped off the land sections quite well. However, the frosted areas representing the oceans and other water areas had a coating that interacted with the erasable marker ink, creating a permanent mark.

“Francois is not going to be happy with you,” laughed Sir Alistair.

“Smash it!” yelled the Doctor.

“What?” demanded Alistair.

“Deiter, smash this globe immediately!” demanded the Doctor. “Quickly!” Without question, Deiter walked up to the crystal globe and tried to push it over. Deiter heaved and heaved as he became red in the face. Finally, it started to give and wobble on its low broad pedestal. Faye was afraid it would roll back on him. After several oscillations, it finally tipped and smashed on the hard floor.

After 30 seconds, Wolfgang Reitsig came bursting into the lobby, red-faced with anger. He must have seen everything on a closed-circuit camera. First was the theft of Case 7155, followed by three intruders; and now vandalism of an extremely expensive work of art, all on his watch. He was followed by four men with semi-automatic weapons, all pointed at Deiter.

“What are you doing?” screamed the security director.

“Saving the world” blurted out the Doctor. Reitsig did not look amused. John Benton and Francois Schrivel followed, both looking quite confused. Alistair took the initiative.

“Francois, have you found anything about the whereabouts of the device?” He seemed oblivious, as he surveyed the lobby filled with broken glass.

“What happened here?”

“The Doctor’s had a breakthrough.” Immediately, Alistair regretted his choice of words, as he looked over his shoulder. “The device is extremely dangerous. In fact, it’s probably the most dangerous threat UNIT’s ever faced.” This got Schrivel’s attention.

“Yes, we’ve had a ‘breakthrough’ as well. Our intelligence sources have confirmed that GeoComTex is connected with the theft. We believe the device is headed to their Utah complex via New York. If it gets into their Utah complex, it will be extremely difficult to recover.”

“It won’t matter,” the Doctor interrupted. “By time it reaches Utah, it will be too late. The progression is accelerating. I doubt the thieves know what they’ve got.”

“The American section of UNIT could intercept it in New York,” suggested Benton. Schrivel looked uncomfortable.

“Unfortunately, we believe the American section has been infiltrated by Geocomtex operatives. Calling them may tip off Geocomtex.”

“Then, we’ll have to go there ourselves”

“By time anyone gets to New York, the device will be in Utah,” Schrivel countered.

“Doctor?”

“Way ahead of you, Alistair.” The Doctor was standing in the lift with Faye and Deiter.

“I’m coming too” said the Brigadier. Benton followed without a word.

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A year and a half before, the Geocomtex board of directors had given Reid Haas responsibility for sorting out the serpentine and cryptic world of the company’s black box research and development. In essence, the board was looking to have a ‘fire sale’, to recover the costs of the extensive R&D, unless of course, Haas found something of high-potential value.

When he took on the responsibility for the company’s vast Utah complex, he never imagined the wonders it held. Although some of his endeavors did yield financial success, Henry van Statten had been an egocentric fool, primarily interested in his unusual ‘toys’. Haas had a huge learning curve ahead of him, but he had become a surprisingly fast learner when it came to the alien technology.

Then something unexpected happened. Van Statten’s old tech-gathering mechanisms were still in place. No one told those in the field to stop gathering and acquiring. ‘Thank goodness’ he thought. They brought in an object that was extraordinary, not the usual piece of damaged alien technology, but an undamaged working transmitter. It had enabled Haas to communicate with an alien race from across the galaxy, the Garkollians. This contact would change the world. Haas was sure of it.

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 7 – I'll Take Manhattan

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The TARDIS materialised in a small alley, across from a dilapidated hotel on a West 31st Street in Manhattan. It was dark as they left the TARDIS.

“Did we travel in time Doctor?” asked Deiter.

“No, just space.”

“Then, why is it dark again?”

“We just moved across seven time zones.” He then added, “In the planetary sense. From Geneva to New York.”

“Doctor?” inquired Lethbridge-Stewart. “It’s fine that we’ve made it to New York. But how will we find this device in a city the size of London? I don’t suppose you have some sort of tracking device?”

“Well, given that the device probably came from another universe with completely different physical laws that I don’t yet completely understand and that I haven’t been able to examine the device personally; having such a device would be extremely unlikely.”

The Doctor pulled a pair of small devices out of a bag he was carrying..

“I thought you said such a device was extremely unlikely.”

“Unlikely, but not impossible. Besides it’s only a hunch. These are neutrino regulators I’ve improvised into detectors.” The Doctor turned to the others.

“Deiter would you carry this?” the Doctor asked. He handed the bag to Deiter who discovered the bag weighed more than he expected.

“What’s in it?”

“My mittens.” The Doctor turned back to the others. “Who is familiar with New York? Familiar enough to not get lost.”

“I’ve been to New York on business. It’s pretty difficult to get lost in Manhattan, Doctor,” replied John Benton. “It’s mostly in a checkerboard pattern, and all the streets are numbered.”

“We’ll need to split up to triangulate the readings.” He gave one of the devices to Benton. He looked up the street signs. They were at Sixth Avenue and 31st Street.

“Just go south along Sixth Avenue. Turn east at 14th Street. Deiter and I will meet you there.”

“Where are you going?”

“East. Then we’ll turn south to form a rough square that’ll get us a chance at triangulating the device’s location. Just remember to maintain a steady pace. I’ll compare the readings when we meet up.”

Faye and Alastair accompanied John Benton. Faye looked back at the Doctor marching off with “the Schnauzer”.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the dilapidated hotel across the street, two figures watched them from a darkened window two floors up.

“The TARDIS has just arrived,” said one of the figures.

The other figure smiled. “Yes, as expected,” he said darkly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Faye, Alistair and John Benton walked south, the eastern sky began to slowly lighten to pre-dawn. The deserted streets defied Faye’s expectations of the cramped and overpopulated New York. Of course, that would change shortly as the city returned to life. After several blocks, Faye and John became aware of the Sir Alistair’s laboured breathing.

“Perhaps we should stop and rest,” suggested Benton.

“No, the Doctor said, keep a steady pace,” insisted Sir Alistair. “Go ahead without me. I’ll catch up.”

“Go on, I’ll stay with him,” Faye said.

“I don’t need a nursemaid,” snapped Sir Alistair. Faye just waved Benton on, who continued down the avenue. Alistair stewed in frustration. He was old, and exhausted; he had been up all day and night. Now with the sudden shift in time zone, this day was now a lot longer.

“Here’s a bench. Let’s both catch our breath,” Faye suggested.

“Doris was right” he muttered to himself.

“About what?”

“Me. I’m too bloody old for this business.”

“Then why did you come?”

“Because I’m a soldier, and duty called. Or at least, I was a soldier,” breathed Sir Alistair. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve enjoyed my retirement. But the thought of one last mission before I die was irresistible. And foolish.” Faye wondered if Sir Alistair knew how close to death he actually was. Or was it simply the fatalistic remark of an old man?

“Being a soldier is very important to you?”

“Duty and service are important to me.”

“That’s what my grandfather used to say. He was a soldier too. He was a prisoner-of-war in World War II. He retired a colonel, to raise me after my parents died.”

“A different type of duty and service,” Alistair repeated softly. He noticed a tear in Faye’s eye.

“I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, especially since Deiter joined us.”

“Because he’s a German?” Alistair surmised. “Well, I’m sure the Doctor wouldn’t have taken him on if he didn’t trust him.”

Faye decided to change the subject.

“How long have you known the Doctor?” she asked.

“It seems like forever. I first met him back in the sixties. That business with the Yeti in the Underground.”

“Yeti, in the Underground?” she laughed.

“It’s a long story, one the Doctor could probably explain better.”

“You must have seen one of his other regenerations.”

“Several. I swear the man does it just to confuse and vex me. Although this new one…”

“You never saw his new face before today?”

“No.”

“Yet, you accepted him immediately.”

“The situation demanded it. But of course, I’ve already been through half a dozen faces already.”

“Was it difficult the first time? I mean the first time he changed.”

“Yes, I didn’t believe it was the same man.”

“But it got easier?”

“I suppose so.”

“How?”

“I stopped looking for the face. Focused instead on the man inside. His humour, his blasted quirkiness, and his big heart, always shine through. He is always ‘the Doctor’. As I used to say, he’s a good man, all of them.” The Brigadier stood up, feeling slightly better after the short rest.

“Let’s push on,” he said with a new resolve. As I recall there was one street that cuts diagonally across the checkerboard. Broadway, I think. It should save us some time, and help us catch up.”

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Reid Haas waited in a grimey office above the main floor in a New York warehouse Geocomtex owned through a series of subsidiaries. He received a report that UNIT had made some discreet inquires about the missing 7155 device. The European UNIT sections couldn’t do anything in time. And he had sent conflicting leads to confuse the North American sections.

Haas was one of the few outside of governments who knew UNIT’s true mission. He was aware of how UNIT protected Earth from alien threats. Yet, they never did anything with the technology they recovered. Haas had to acknowledge Henry Van Statten did have the vision to see the commercial possibilities in alien technology, as well as Van Statten’s ingenuity in infiltrating UNIT to obtain that technology.

However, Haas would now take it a step further. He simply applied a basic business strategy: cut-out the middlemen by going directly to a source. In the last year, he had several communications with the Garkollians. Initially, they merely seemed curious about Earth. They showed no interest in sharing any technology. Apparently, Earth didn’t seem to offer anything they wanted. Then came a report about an unusual piece of alien technology UNIT had found floating in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. He passed the report on to the Garkollians. Suddenly, they were very interested in trade. They offered various technologies with applications in power generation, weapons, transportation, agriculture, medicine, and even space travel. With these technologies, Geocomtex would become the most powerful company in the world. More than that, Haas would have enough power to make the world a better place, a better place according to his rules.

The time was almost here. Kendra Forge would soon deliver the ticket to all that wonderful Garkollian technology. Case 7155 in exchange for the world. Haas wondered what the device did, that would cause the Garkollians to respond so positively. Apparently, even after weeks of examination, the UNIT scientists were no closer to understanding the device. It didn’t matter. If the Garkollians could benefit, he didn’t mind at all. It was a win-win deal.

Suddenly he heard the massive delivery door open. Kendra Forge’s vehicle drove into the warehouse. Case 7155 had arrived.

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 8 – An Unhappy Customer

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Faye and Sir Alistair saw John, Deiter and the Doctor standing on the street corner. The Doctor had a look of consternation on his face.

“Sorry, we’re late. What have you found?” asked Alistair.

“Not what I expected. Whatever this device is or does, it’s actually attracts then deflects neutrinos.”

“Doctor,” the Brigadier interrupted impatiently, trying to avoid a scientific dissertation. “Can you tell us where it is?”

“If I’m correct, it’s been on the move.”

“That would make sense,” commented Benton.

“Ah” the Doctor said in discovery. It must have moved south.” The five of them quickly started walking south along Third Avenue.

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High above the Earth, a stealth Garkollian battle cruiser entered geosynchronous orbit, directly above New York.

Admiral Krekark of the elite K’tauk Fleet, stood looking at the planet below, so warm and lush when compared to his frigid home world. It made him ill. He looked over at Tepkrak, who also made him ill. Tepkrak had led a survey team to this disgustingly humid planet years before. (Even the name, Earth, sounded soft and putrid to Krekark.) Tepkrak left behind a communications module. This was an infraction of the K’tauk Code. No trace of Garkollian presence is ever to be left behind. (Luckily for Tepkrak, he has not of the K’tauk military order. Such an infraction would have meant execution.) And now the Earthers had found the lost communication module and signaled Tepkrak’s Science Council.

He walked back to the communications console. His pitted exoskeletal plates scraped against one another, making an unpleasant sound.

“Tepkrak, signal your ‘friend’ below,” sneered Krekark with contempt.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was just rising over the Atlantic Ocean, as their small company passed a small park.

“We’re very close. In fact, we’re so close these detectors are no longer of any use. They’re not precise enough. But the device must be within 50 metres.”

They looked around at the closed stores and handful of industrial buildings.

“My money’s on the warehouse,” announced Sir Alistair.

“McCaffery,” said Benton.

“That’s the one.” The Brigadier confirmed. “The Doctor and I will do a recky. The rest of you wait here.”

“A reccy?” asked Deiter.

“Reconnaissance.”

“Wait,” said John Benton. “My company does business with McCaffrey. I’ve got an idea.”

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From the grimy office, Hass watched as Kendra Forge’s men unloaded the cases.

“Why so many cases?” asked Hass.

“I didn’t want Case 7155 to seem too important. By moving it with larger cases, it would be less conspicuous,” Forge answered. Hass liked the way she thought and planned. He suspected Ms. Forge could be a very useful person to him in the future.

“What’s in the other cases?”

“The new AGS-3 prototypes, ready for testing.”

“Ah, I was looking forward to seeing them, but later,” he added dismissively. The anti-gravity devices, once believed to be a new flagship product for Geocomtex, paled in comparison to the technology that might soon be at hand.

“When will Case 7155 leave for Utah?” asked Forge.

“It’s not going to Utah. We have a buyer.”

“Really,” she smiled. “Will our buyer be here soon?” Forge had a reputation for be able to accommodate late minute changes. Nothing seemed to faze her. Hass wondered whether she would be unfazed by the non-terrestrial nature of the ‘buyer’.

There was a sudden commotion outside the small office.

“Excuse me,” demanded an angry voice. “Excuse me!” Two men had entered the warehouse through the open drive-through door. One of her men had carelessly left it open. The older man appeared quite angry. “Where’s the manager,” he demanded.

“Is this your buyer?” Forge asked. Haas nodded no, looking quite annoyed at the interruption.

Taking the initiative, Kendra Forge marched forward. “What seems to be the problem?” she said, feigning the concern of a customer service manager.

“My shipment’s been lost! Joe Brady in your Southampton office tracked it here. But no one here returns my calls.” Forge vaguely remembered Brady’s name. She had smuggled some shipments using Brady’s warehouse in England.

“I’m afraid we’re not open yet. It is six in the morning after all. Our shipping manager won’t be in until seven. Perhaps, if you came back then?”

“I refuse to be given the runaround.”

“Of course, Mr….”

“Benton,” stated the man. “Of Graydon Transport Corporation, London.”

While Benton was making a spectacle of himself, the Doctor moved surreptitiously about, nonchalantly scanning for the device among the palates and crates in the warehouse. He suspected he knew which crate the device was in, not from his scans, but from the frost that had formed on the wooden box.

“London? My, Mr. Benton, you are a long way from home.”

“Well, when £750,000 of high-precision machine parts goes missing, it’s worth it for me to find where they went. If McCaffery wants to keep my business…”

“Ms. Forge, a moment please?” Haas called. Forge wished Haas hadn’t used her real name out loud.

“Excuse me for just a moment, Mr. Benton.” Forge walked back to Haas.

“We must get rid of that man. Our buyer will be here at any moment.”

“I am trying to get rid of him. But there’s another problem.”

"And that is?"

“He’s with UNIT. He’s not regular UNIT. I thought John Benton was retired, but his being here at this moment is too much of a coincidence.”

“We’ve been compromised?” sighed a nervous Haas.

“And he’s not alone. There is another man whose been snooping around the crates. I don’t recognise him, but Benton is obviously trying to distract us away from what he’s doing.”

Haas’s face hardened in anger as he spied the Doctor.

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 9 – A Hard-Shelled Negotiator

“We’ve been compromised?” sighed an irritated Haas.

“And Benton’s not alone. There’s that other man with him whose been snooping around the crates,” Kendra Forge informed him. “I don’t recognise him, but Benton is obviously trying to distract us away from what he’s doing. I’ve been trying to throw him off. But you’re right. Time is running out.”

She turned and nodded. Suddenly, the Doctor found himself facing two large men with semi-automatic weapons pointed at him. Forge pulled a pistol out of her pocket, and pointed it at Benton.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant Major. Apparently, you weren’t going away on your own, so…” The Doctor was escorted roughly to where they stood.

“Sorry Doctor,” murmured John.

“It was a fine plan, John,” the Doctor complimented. He turned to Forge and Haas. “The device you’ve stolen is more dangerous than you can imagine.”

“Oh really,” smirked Haas. “And of course, we need to return it into the safety of your hands” he added sarcastically.

“It defies the laws of our universe, and is…”

“…not our problem” Haas replied.

“At least, let me examine it to see how dangerous it is,” the Doctor pleaded.

“Perhaps, we could let him look at it,” suggested Kendra Forge. “Fewer surprises when we meet your buyer.”

“I have to admit I am curious myself to see this remarkable device myself,” admitted Haas. He motioned Forge back toward the office door.

“What should we do with those two?” asked Haas. “Dispose of them?”

“We should wait. There may be other UNIT personnel nearby,” warned Forge.

“Haas turned to one of his men. “Check on any suspicious characters outside. At this time of the morning, no one else should be around.” Suddenly, the Garkollian communications device in Haas’s pocket beeped. Krekark was ready to teleport to their location.

Suddenly, three points of lights radiated from thin air. Each point separated into many points of light, finally forming into three bluish beings.



All the humans were transfixed by them. They had pitted exoskeletons, not at all smooth like a lobster’s, but rough and pitted. The lead alien stepped forward. Its exoskeletal plates scraped against one another, reminiscent of chalk against a chalkboard.

“Which one of you is Haas?” the alien croaked.

“I am. And you must be Admiral Krekark.” Haas answered with a slight stammer in his voice.

“Where is the device?” Krekark enquired harshly.

“Where is the promised technology?” countered Haas, quickly recovering his composure. Krekark paused. He was not used to being questioned. He clicked one of his black claws. One of the other Garkollians came forward. This one was a slightly green shade of blue. He handed Haas a small U-shaped mechanism.

“And what is this?” asked Haas.

“A subspace inducer. It has applications in communications and medicine,” explained Tepkrak. Haas looked disappointed. He was expecting something more dramatic, or at least something more immediately applicable. He scowled. It was unclear whether the Garkollians could read his human expression.

“Is this all?”

Krekark moved in an odd way. Haas had no idea whether this meant displeasure or it was merely an involuntary twitch. Haas was an accomplished business negotiator, who knew the value of reading non-verbal signals, at least human non-verbal signals. He took it as an involuntary gesture of surprise or discomfort. In this case, he was correct. Krekark was unaccustomed to negotiation. Battle was his arena. However, the Garkollian High Council ordered Krekark to obtain the device undamaged, and gave him authority to offer a wide variety of technologies in exchange. However, he was also advised to give away as little as possible. Accordingly, he had Tepkrak offer the item first to these primitive Earthers that had the fewest military applications.

“It is an initial offering of trust,” croaked Tepkrak. “Showing us the device would be an offering of trust on your part.” Tepkrak clearly had a better understanding of negotiation than his superior.

Forge approached Haas. “Are you sure you want to give an unknown device to aliens?”

“Don’t loose your nerve, Ms. Forge.”

“With another example of trust, I would be glad to show you the device,” Haas offered. Krekark turned with a disagreeable scraping of his exoskeleton. The other Garkollian came forth with another device. This one looked like a small barbell.

“It is a force field modulator,” Tepkrak explained. “Combined with the subspace inducer, it will generate a moderate force field. Given time, your scientists will be able to increase its power and range.”

Haas thought of holding out for more, but thought better of it. It was now time to show his good faith. He nodded for the crate #7155 to be brought forth.

“The device is in this box.” One of Haas’s men was bringing a pry bar. Krekark stepped up to the frosted wooden crate. The man instinctively backed away and dropped the pry bar as the crustacean-like alien approached. Krekark ripped the crate open with his powerful four-pincer claw. Splinters went flying. Everyone stared, some at Krekark, others at the ice-encased device. He poked the ice with his claw. His exoskeleton seemed to insolate him from the freezing effect of the device.

Suddenly there was a commotion behind them. Haas’s men had captured Faye, Deiter, and Alistair, and were pushing them forward.

“What is this?” demanded Admiral Krekark.

“Merely meddlers who wish to interfere with our negotiation,” answered Haas. “But we won’t let that happen.” In the momentary confusion, the Doctor spied a water hose, probably used to wash down the warehouse floor. That was the only thing beside the weapons carried by Hass’s men that offered any hope of stopped this disastrous trade.

The Brigadier was pushed toward Benton and the Doctor. He was clearly embarrassed about being caught.

“I see you were correct about the device’s location, and I see we have a new complication” Alistair murmured as he eyed the blue crustaceans.

“Yes, if these Garkollians take the device from Earth, we’ll never be able to recover it. The universe could be lost,” the Doctor warned. He then leaned over to Deiter and whispered something into his ear.

“Have you got a plan Doctor?” asked Faye.

“More of a hunch.” The Doctor stepped forward. “Excuse me,” he called to Admiral Krekark.

“Ignore him,” spat Haas.

“I just want to warn the Admiral of the danger. I don’t want us to be responsible for the destruction of the great Garkollian Empire.” With those words said, Krekark turned and gave the Doctor his full attention.

“Speak human!”

“This device comes from another universe, governed by very different physical laws. It will rip apart our entire universe. I don’t know how quickly it will do this. But I do know that if it’s in Garkollian space, the Empire will be the first to go.”

Krekark stepped forward and grabbed the Doctor around the neck with his sharp talons. It was obvious to everyone that Krekark could decapitate the Doctor with no trouble at all.

“Do you think I’m stupid? If this device is such a danger, why would you want it kept on Earth?”

“To study it and deactivate it,” the Doctor replied through his constricted throat.

“Our scientists are much more advanced. Your primitive Earth scientists have had no success so far. Haas has said so. Otherwise, why would he trade for our most basic technologies?”

“You’re right, except for one thing. I’m not from Earth. I can figure it out.”

“I grow tired of this. My shell grows soft with the warmth and humility of this retched planet.” Krekark turned to Haas. “Is this another one of your negotiation tactics?” he asked testily.

Haas nodded no. He couldn’t be sure but Haas thought he almost detected a grin in Krekark’s exoskeletal face.

“Then, you won’t mind me killing him, especially since he’s not of Earth,” Krekark said as he lifted the Doctor off his feet by the neck, a neck held between four sharp pincers.

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 10 – A Soft Approach

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“Then you won’t mind me killing him, especially since he’s not of Earth,” Krekark said as he lifted the Doctor off his feet by the neck, a neck held between four sharp pincers.

Suddenly a blast of water hit the Garkollian. It would have knocked even a large man over, but the Garkollian was much more substantial. While everyone was focused on Krekark and the Doctor, Deiter had slipped over to the water hose. He continued to spray all three Garkollians. Apparently, it had no effect on them, except to make them wet and angry. However, it did get Krekark to drop the Doctor.

“Stop him!” ordered Haas. Two of the men fired shots over Deiter’s head, who dropped the hose and raised his hands immediately.

“I am sorry about these meddlers, Admiral,” Haas apologized. “Remove them!” he ordered.

“I have to admit Admiral,” interrupted the Doctor. “You saw through our negotiation strategy. You’ve earned your prize!” the Doctor gestured to crate holding the device, smiling. “Well done.”

Krekark felt triumphant in seeing through the human ruse Haas had set up. Haas was sputtering denials, as Krekark approached the ice-encased device sitting in its now shattered wooden case. He extended his quad-claw into the crate and wrapped it around his iced-in trophy.



His arm suddenly had an odd sensation. All thought ceased before he could truly appreciate what it was. Everyone watched as his entire blue shell became iced over. The purplish Garkollian came over to extricate his superior, but became iced over as well. The two Garkollians froze solid within three seconds.

“You planned this all along!” accused Tepkrak.

“No!” exclaimed Haas, as Tepkrak approached threateningly. Haas’s men pointed their weapons at the remaining Garkollian. As he came closer, they fired. The alien’s exoskeleton was tougher than Kevlar. Tepkrak lurched from the blast of bullets, but was unharmed. Haas quickly ducked back into the grimy office.

“Concentrate your fire at the head,” commanded Forge. However, before they could fire a sufficient barrage, Tepkrak dispatched them with his sharp claws. He then turned on Kendra Forge. His quad-claws extended for the kill. Suddenly, he was hit with another blast of water. This time is was warmer and even more unpleasant. He turned to the source. This time it was Benton manning the water hose.

“Forge, shoot him!” yelled the Doctor. Forge thought what a stupid man. She had just witnessed a hundred high-calibre rounds bounce off this creature’s carapace. What could her pistol do? Tepkrak turned back on her in a rage. She instinctively fired and emptied an entire clip. To her surprise, they all penetrated his shell. Tepkrak fell to the joints in his legs that most closely resembled knees, and collapsed dead.

“They just needed a little hot water to soften them up,” commented the Doctor, as he patted the nozzle in Benton’s hands.

Everyone exhaled in relief. Faye walked up to the frozen Garkollians. She stared at the bizarre physiology and shell texture. She went to touch the surface of the alien. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her wrist. It was Lethbridge-Stewart.

“You don’t want to do that,” he warned, realising the device was still in Krekark frozen claw

“What just happened?” she asked.

“This device is a perfect heat sink; it absorbs the heat out of everything. The Garkollians’ come from a very cold planet, so their shells serve as thermo-insulation. However, the water circumvented their insulation.”

“Good thinking, Deiter,” Lethbridge-Stewart called out.

“Actually it was the Doctor’s idea,” Deiter admitted. Sometimes having an obedient Schnauzer pays off thought Faye.

“But what about the other one with the bullets?” asked Alistair.

“Krekark said himself that the humidity was softening his shell. So John just helped the process along.”

“Speaking of which, where did that Forge woman go?” asked John.

“Slipped off, I suppose, along with Haas” commented Alistair. Both he and John instinctively picked up weapons and went searching the perimeter. Meanwhile, the Doctor seamed lost in thought as he stared at the glowing device inside the ice.

“Deiter, do you have my bag? And get me that pry bar” he ordered.

“Here, Doctor,” Deiter answered as he handed both to the Doctor. Out of the bag, he pulled two long gloves.

“What are they?”

“Thermostatic mittens. I usually use them with items in excess of 12,000 degrees. I hope they work on the low end of the thermometer as well.” With the mittens on, he picked up the pry bar. He looked at the enormous blue frozen statues in front of him. “Sorry,” he murmured as he swung the bar and smashed the Garkollians into several pieces.

“Hate to see someone crack-up like that,” quipped Faye. The Doctor didn’t seem to hear her. He knocked the rest of the debris away, and stared into the ice. “I don’t think we have much time.” He looked around.

Deiter noticed him looking at what looked like a group of treadmills.

“What are they?” he asked.

“Exactly what we need. Anti-gravity sleds.” The Doctor turned back to the device. “The moment of truth,” he sighed as he picked up the device. The thermostatic mittens seemed to be working. He placed it on the rear end of the platform on the sled. The platform was approximately five- to six-foot long. The Doctor got on the sled, flicked a couple switches. The sled rose several inches above the floor. Deiter was amased.

The Doctor looked at Faye. “Well, get on. Just don’t touch the ice.” She careful climbed on. Her feet suddenly seemed glued to the platform. “Gravity plating, better than safety belts.” The sled smoothly moved around the room. The Doctor steered it back to Deiter. “Deiter, tell Alistair and John, we’re heading back to the TARDIS.” You three can take one of these, or find other transportation, but hurry. I may have to leave without you.”

The Doctor steered the antigrav sled out the door onto the street. Traffic had increased for the morning commute. The Doctor was able to get the sled high enough to go over the traffic. Many New Yorkers watched with mouths open.

“I’ll have to get myself one of these,” smiled the Doctor.

“I think you just did,” Faye laughed.

Suddenly, gunshots whizzed by. Faye turned around to see Haas on another antigrav sled, following them. They all thought he had run off. But he was following them, with a semi-automatic weapon.

“You’ve ruined everything!” Haas screamed, as he fired more rounds at them.

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 11 – One Dimension Short

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Suddenly, there were gunshots. Faye turned around to see Haas on another antigrav sled, following them. They all thought he had run off. But he was following them now, with a semi-automatic weapon.

“You’ve ruined everything!” Haas screamed, as he fired more rounds at them.

“We’ve got company,” she yelled. “That nutter, Haas.”

The Doctor accelerated the sled and increased the altitude. Haas followed suite. Early arriving workers on the second and third floors were completely confused by the blurs outside their office windows. Haas would sporadically fire more rounds.

The checkerboard pattern of New York streets which helped them navigate before, was now a disadvantage. The tall skyscrapers limited their lateral movement. It also made all possible turns right angles, which couldn’t be made at the current speed needed to stay ahead of Haas.

Finally, they crossed an open park square. They were able to make a wide turn, making it difficult for Haas get a good shot. Unfortunately, in slowing down they lost altitude and scraped against some treetops. The Doctor accelerated again heading in a southerly direction.

“The battery’s down,” the Doctor mumbled to himself.

“You mean we’re losing power?” Faye asked in panic.

“What? No. It’s a song about New York’s landmarks I think. ‘The Bronx is up; the Battery’s down.” Which means we’re headed south. Suddenly, they ran out of city, and were now flying over New York Harbour.

The Doctor made another wide turn to head back north toward the TARDIS, this time choosing to fly along another avenue. However, before they made it back over land, Haas emerged on his sled in a rage. Haas turned his sled quickly to follow them. Once again they were in the same situation of being confined to the streets bounded by skyscrapers.

They kept bobbing up and down to make Haas’s aim more difficult. The Doctor tried increasing the altitude so they could fly over the buildings, but those altitudes seemed to be beyond the capabilities of the sled. They seemed to be confined to a straight run down this man-made glass and steel canyon.

“We need to turn soon. We’re running out of time,” the Doctor called out.

“You can’t made these turns at this speed,” Faye called back.

“That’s always the trouble with humans; always one dimension short. That’s why the Earth was flat for so long. Adding a dimension to one’s thinking helps with problem solving.”

Suddenly, the sled dropped down nearly hitting a cab. Then the Doctor pulled it up in a parabolic curve to the point where they were almost traveling straight up right in the middle of an intersection. It was just a matter of leveling out to the side instead of straight ahead.

Haas tried to make the same turn, but instead smashed into a stone building.

“I think Haas is the flat one now,” Faye remarked.

At a slower speed, they were safely able to navigate back to the TARDIS. When they arrived, they found Deiter, John, and the Brigadier waiting. Apparently, John Benton’s piloting skills had just been extended to antigrav sleds.

They found that the sleds were thin enough to just barely squeeze through the TARDIS doors. The Doctor quickly dematerialised the TARDIS.

“So, back to Geneva?” asked Deiter.

“No, to the future”

“To get help defusing this blasted thing?” ventured Alistair.

“No,” sighed the Doctor. “I'm afraid it can’t be defused.”

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 12 – Temporal Checkmate

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The Doctor probed and scanned the ice-encased device for several minutes.

“There’s nothing I can do to deactivate this device.”

“Oh come on Doctor. There’s got to be something you can do,” the Brigadier cajoled.

“Alistair, it’s not like there’s red or blue wire to cut here. I can’t interact with this device. It works on completely different physical principles from our universe,” explained the Doctor.

“Yet you’re sure it will destroy the universe?”

“Yes! The physical laws surrounding the device are already changing.” The Doctor demonstrated by placing a metal rod near the ice. It became transparent and distorted. The rod returned to normal once it was pulled back. “And the changes are accelerating.”

“Then, why are we headed into the future?”

“Because that’s where it will cause the least damage.”

“You mean like in deep space?” Benton ventured.

“It doesn’t matter where the device is. If it did, I would have gladly let the Garkollians take it. It’s a matter of when, not where. If the device activated in 2014, then anything that occurs from that point on ceases to exist. No year 2015. No year 2016. And so on. By taking it into the future as far as we can, we preserve as much of the temporal universe as possible.”

“How much time do we have? I mean, could it go off inside the TARDIS?” asked Deiter.

“I’m still working that out, now that I can observe the device directly.” Everyone left the Doctor alone to his calculations. Each milled around the TARDIS in his own way. John Benton inspected the antigrav sled. Apparently, he quite enjoyed his ride through New York. Deiter quietly watched the Doctor from a respectful distance. Faye made some tea. Alistair insisted on helping her, claiming he had become quite domestic in is old age. This milling about lasted for about twenty minutes before the Doctor made a breakthrough.

“Eleven!” cried the Doctor in frustration.

“What’s eleven?”

“Countdowns. There are eleven separate countdowns. That’s why it was so difficult to decipher. It’s like eleven different sine waves with eleven different wavelengths. The event will occur when all eleven the waves peak simultaneously.”

“And how long will that be?” asked Faye.

“Eleven,” the Doctor responded as if in a trance. “Oh no. Eleven sine waves. Eleven dimensions.” He quickly went back to his instruments. His face went pale.

“What is it?”

“Did you know the universe began with eleven physical dimensions, not three?” the Doctor asked rhetorically. “It seems too much of a coincidence.”

“But what does it mean?” asked Deiter.

“The device is operating in reverse time.”

“Which means if it explodes in the future…” began Benton.

“…it will destroy the past,” concluded Faye.

“So, we just have to take the device into past” concluded Alistair triumphantly. The Doctor face remained stony.

“Destroy the past, the future never happens,” explained the Doctor. “It’s the perfect doomsday weapon.”

“So it doesn’t matter what we do?”

The Doctor nodded in defeat. “Temporal checkmate.”

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 13 – Double Checkmate

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“Destroy the past, the future never happens,” explained the Doctor. “It’s the perfect doomsday weapon.”

“So it doesn’t matter what we do?”

The Doctor nodded in defeat. “Temporal checkmate.”

Abruptly, the Doctor began throwing switches on the central console.

“Do you have an idea, Doctor?” asked Lethbridge-Stewart.

“A half-baked one, that’s a quadrillion-to-one shot,” mumbled the Doctor. “It probably won’t work. But honestly, we have nothing to loose.”

“Where are we going?” asked Deiter.

“Event Zero” replied the Doctor.

“The Big Bang?” responded Benton.

“Isn’t that the explosion that created the universe?” asked Faye

“The Big Bang was Event One. Event Zero is the singularity that existed before the universe, a moment of null time.”

“Brilliant, so we simply drop the device off in this null time to stop the countdown,” exclaimed Faye.

“No, there’s no ‘dropping off’. We’ll be trapped there along with the device. This is a one-way trip...” There was suddenly a look of horror on the Doctor’s face. He looked at Benton and Lethbridge-Stewart in desperation. “You two shouldn’t have come,” the Doctor said in a desperate voice. “I shouldn’t have let you either of you come on-board the TARDIS.” Faye wondered why their lives were more important than hers or Deiters.

“Why?” demanded the Brigadier.

“If you die with us, it will create a negating paradox. Deiter, Faye and I only came to Geneva because of a note you arrange to give me in the future. If you don’t survive, those events will never happen.”

“And the device will explode on Earth,” concluded Sir Alistair.

“Even if it doesn’t, the negating paradox alone would create a temporal mobius time loop, eventually ripping apart the universe all the same, similar to the Grandfather Paradox.”

“Why can’t we simply drop them off back on Earth?” Deiter suggested.

“There’s not enough time.” The Doctor glanced down at the device. “The eleven countdowns are converging. Stopping the TARDIS anywhere will mean the device will go off before we get to Event Zero.”

“So we’re back to square one,” sighed Lethbridge-Stewart.

“Except, we now have a choice of how the universe is destroyed,” mumbled the Doctor.

“Playing God?” John chuckled darkly.

“More like double checkmate!” Alistair growled in frustration.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming,” lamented the Doctor. John Benton came over to the Doctor.

“It’s not your fault, Doc. We decided to come on our own.” The Doctor didn’t seem to be listening. Instead, he was staring at Benton’s left hand.

“Where’s your ring?”

“What ring?”

“Your wedding ring?”

“I’m not married,” John answered, looking at the Doctor as if he had lost his mind.

“Of course. Of course!” The Doctor ran around the control room, wildly grabbing odd components from boxes, and connecting them.

“Care to clue us in, Doctor?” inquired the Brigadier.

“A ring! A time ring! I can’t build a proper one in the time allotted, but... Oh, I should have thought of it earlier. Temporal inertia!” The Doctor ducked under the console and removed a tubule. The Doctor spoke as he worked frantically. “The TARDIS is headed toward Event Zero quite quickly. It has enormous temporal inertia. If I can harness that inertia in a quasi-time ring mechanism, I can carry the device to Event Zero, while the TARDIS carries you all back to safety.

“Carries us back to safety? What about you?”

“The ring will carry me while I hold the device with my thermostatic mittens.”

“Why can’t you just attach the ring to the device?”

“This ring is bit cobbled together. I’ll need to keep an eye on it. More importantly, the device icy qualities might prevent the time ring from working properly.”

“Faye, I need you.” She met him at the TARDIS controls, as he was plugging the time ring into the TARDIS.

“You can’t do this Doctor; you’ll die,” Faye pleaded desperately.

“We don’t have many options left at this point. I’ll need you to monitor the fast return switch. You’ve done it before. Once the time ring has fully acquired the TARDIS’s temporal momentum, the fast return switch will countdown to activation. If the countdown gets to zero without the switch activating, you’ll have throw the switch manually, because I’ll be gone by then.”

Deiter, Benton and the Brigadier were talking softly on the other side of the room, giving the Doctor a moment to calm Faye down.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you back to 2004. I hope 2014 is close enough. After you return to Earth, I need two favours from you.” Faye nodded she would. “First, destroy the TARDIS.”

“What?”

“I love the old girl, but I wouldn’t want her misused.”

“But the TARDIS is indestructible.”

“Not from the inside. The Brigadier can arrange for some high-power explosives. Then bury the shell. And don’t let the Brigadier store it in some UNIT warehouse in hope that I’ll return someday. The TARDIS must be destroyed. Promise me?” Faye nodded, with tears in her eyes.

“What’s the second thing?”

“This may be harder. I know you’re not fond of him, but I want you to look after Deiter. For you, 2014 will be ten years out. For him, it will be over sixty years worth of culture shock. I don’t know; maybe he could be a waiter in that restaurant you always wanted to open.”

“Whatever you say,” she said softly. The Doctor kissed her on the forehead.

The console clicked twice. The Doctor detached the ring from the console.

“Temporal Inertia acquired. It’s time.”

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To Be Continued...

[John Darnacan]

Part 14 – Fatal Revelation

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The console clicked twice. The Doctor detached the ring from the console.

“Temporal Inertia acquired. It’s time.”

The Doctor fashioned an elastic strap to hold the ‘ring’ to his arm. He started to put it on.

“I’ll take that” the Brigadier informed him has he went to take the ring. Suddenly, the Doctor was grabbed from behind by John Benton and Deiter, each firmly holding an arm.

“What are you doing?” demanded the Doctor.

“What you would do.” Alistair quickly removed his coat and strapped the time ring to his own arm. He then picked up the thermostatic mittens, and put them on.

“You can’t do this! You’ll create a negating paradox!”

“It seems we’ve had more than our share of paradoxes today, Doctor. Well now, I have a new one for you. You said that you received a note from me years from now. That would be quite impossible.”

“How can you say that? You don’t know what the future holds.”

“In this case, I do. I have a brain tumour. It’s growing and completely inoperable. The physicians say I only have a few months to live. Six months on the outside. I’m dying Doctor, and quite soon.”

“That’s impossible. I know. I’ve been to your funeral,” the Doctor blurted out. “It’s years from now, not months!” The Brigadier nodded. He had suspected as much.

“Doctor, you’ve solved two impossible-to-solve problems just in the last hour. You’ll solve this one too. I have faith in you. The universe can’t afford to loose you.”

Lethbridge-Stewart picked up the ice-covered device between the mittens. It was lighter than he expected. He gazed into the device, wondering whether this would work.

“Stop trying to be noble idiot!” The Doctor yelled, struggling. He turned to see that Deiter was holding his right arm. He could understand John Benton’s actions because of his loyalty to his old commander, but Deiter?

“Deiter, let go of me!” he demanded. “That’s an order!” Deiter could not look him in the eye.

“Sometimes we must disobey orders,” Deiter said, looking away.

“You and I are through!” the Doctor spat.

Faye couldn’t believe what was transpiring. She felt paralyzed.

“Faye, the countdown! It’s jammed!” the Doctor yelled. They all looked at the screen displaying the countdown. At that moment, the Doctor dislocated his arms, a trick Harry Houdini had showed him, and escaped John and Deiter. He grabbed the time ring device on Alistair’s arm, but it was too late.

Space itself twisted around them. And then, they were gone.

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To Be Continued (?)

[John Darnacan]

Part 15 – Acrobatics in Hell

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The Brigadier slowly opened his eyes. He felt sick to his stomach. Slowly through a reddish haze he realised he was floating weightless in a large chamber, more of bubble than a room. ‘Hell’ he thought to himself. What was beyond was a red murkiness outside the bubble, he couldn’t see. Alistair slowly realised there was another man in the chamber floating upside-down, apparently unconscious. It wasn’t the Doctor. This man was clean-shaven.

He tried to reach him, but nothing to push against he couldn’t overcome his own static inertia. He vaguely remembered seeing some footage of a cosmonaut of the International Space Station, who used exhaled breath to propel himself. Alistair blew hard as if he was blowing out a birthday candle. He felt silly doing so. However, any mild embarrassment was replaced by further disorientation, as he was disoriented enough. His exhaled breath didn’t move him straight backward as he expected. Instead he started to rotate backward about his center of gravity. After some experimenting, he eventually reached the wall of the chamber. It gave way in rubbery fashion, but was elastic enough to prevent him from passing through. He then used his legs to project himself across the chamber toward the floating stranger. For a moment, he fancied himself flying like Superman; except Superman had some control.

His aim was a bit off, but he was able to grab the man’s sleeve as he passed by. This created an odd angular momentum which caused both men to revolve around each other and slam into the side of the chamber.

The stranger grunted upon impact. Nonetheless, Lethbridge-Stewart held firm to the man. His eyes opened wide as he shook his head.

“Sorry about that young chap. Are you all right?”

“Young chap? Do you have any idea how old I am, Brigadier?”

“You know me?”

“Of course, Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart.” Alistair looked at the man’s clothes and realised.

“Doctor?”

“Yes”

“I swear you change your face just to vex me.”

“Changed my face? You mean I’ve regenerated again? I hadn’t even gotten used to the face I had yet.” The Doctor looked around the weightless chamber. The walls were spherical, made mostly of the transparent, but elastic material. The Doctor grabbed a handhold and pulled himself toward the window, and looked at his reflection.

“This is extraordinary.”

“What is?

“My face.”

“Yes, it’s a nice one I’m sure,” Alistair answered, surprised at the Doctor’s sudden vanity.

“No, you don’t understand. This is my last face.”

“Your last face? You mean you won’t be able to regenerate again?”

“No, I mean this was my previous face. I didn’t regenerate. I’ve ‘reversed-regenerated’.”

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

“It isn’t.”

The dark murkiness beyond the glass slowly cleared and brightened. Strange shapes became apparent. And they were moved toward them.

“If this is hell, those must be the demons,” murmured Lethbridge-Stewart.

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The silence in the TARDIS was overwhelming. Only the other-worldly hum of the TARDIS remained. A soft beeping broke the silence. Faye realised the fast-return switch hadn’t activated. She flicked the switch as the Doctor had instructed. She felt like she was abandoning the Doctor. But those were his orders.

Tears filled her eyes. John Benton put a comforting arm around her.

“I can’t believe they’re dead” she cried.

“Do you think they were successful?” Deiter asked.

“Well, we’re still alive,” said Benton. “Although, could the universe be destroyed while the TARDIS survived?” John Benton wondered out loud. He had no true idea what the TARDIS could survive, especially in this situation.

“I guess we’ll find out when we get back to New York,” Faye answered. “If there still is a New York.”

“If there’s still an Earth,” Benton said.

“If there’s still a universe,” Deiter added.

A gloomy silence hung in the air for next hour. Finally, the TARDIS emitted the grinding sounds of materialisation. Faye opened the door. All three were in shock at the sight that lay before them.

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To Be Continued...