Doctor Who: Old Timer (1)
Whatever it was that made it happen, it did it sometime during the night. Of course, this is relatively speaking since one found it difficult to discern day and night in the TARDIS seeing as it popped in and out of different time zones frequently and usually without hesitation. So it was that Alfred, only a passenger in the vessel of the fourth dimension, had to learn how to sleep short hours and survive upon only one meal a day. The frantic will of the navigator to explore and jump about, then to change his mind and want a holiday, was exhausting to anyone he travelled with so the lack of food and sleep often didn�t hold up. There was always the pantry. The antiquated design of the TARDIS�s rooms and corridors were what Alfred had personally thought to be the best thing about the ship of time. After all, he was from the late nineteenth century himself so it at least felt comfortable to be around �familiar� materials and colours. Of course, the padded armchairs, bookcases and varnished wood were a stark contrast to the exterior design of a 1960�s police box, so the outward use and function were a complete mystery for Alfred upon first meeting it. But now it was different. Alfred was one of a strict minority that could afford the luxury of travelling in the lush capsule to anywhere and anywhen. The outside hadn�t changed of course, oh no. The captain of the ship would never allow that � it would almost be blasphemous. It was the inside that was totally different. After all, it was what was inside that mattered. Alfred woke to find his bedroom converted into one of stone walls and pillars with a dazzling mosaic floor. �My word,� he said, sitting up in bed to take in the strange new world that he found himself in. Carefully creeping out of bed in his pyjamas, plodding his feet along the warm ground that he expected to be cold (the floor hummed as if it were alive), he looked around the room that once looked like a study. Stone, marble and to top it all: a statue head of the controller himself. How big-headed. After half an hour and no sign of the navigator or an explanation of the unpredicted change, Alfred considered it as going out on a whim and began to get himself dressed. He�d only brought one set of clothes onboard but after much searching through the many wardrobes dotted about in a never ending maze of rooms, he�d come across a nice little number of cravat, clean white shirt and black tuxedo. It was a dinner suit and it fitted perfectly and since there were no complaints, he considered it as his to wear. Scraping back his hair with a globule of wax, Alfred puffed up his bushy moustache in the mirror and left the room, making sure he closed the door on the way out. He looked down the corridor both ways and scratched his chin. As long as the route to the control room hadn�t changed, everything would be peachy. The control room was vastly different. Gone were the armchairs and bookcases and lush fabrics and carpets and so on. Gone. Gone where? Who knows? Alfred was instead confronted by a huge room, absolutely huge, with great wide pillars holding up an unseen ceiling where a variety of brightly coloured birds made home of the sky. It wasn�t bright � it was dim and gloomy, which didn�t seem to be much improvement. In the middle of the room was the familiar control consol, now seemingly built of marble. It was surrounded by a circle of pillars that seemed brighter and more technologically synthetic than the others while at the far end were two great stone doors that led out into the deep recesses of the unknown. �Do you like it?� The voice reverberated throughout the enormous room but Alfred couldn�t quite see where it was coming from. �Look, it comes with weather controls!� A slight breeze that floated around the pillars turned into a strong gale and it pushed Alfred grumpily down onto his backside. He hadn�t expected such a force. The wind was turned off as easily as it was turned on and everything was as normal as normal could be in an alien time and space machines. Annoyed, Alfred brushed his tuxedo off with forced strokes and walked towards the console in the middle of the room to find the captain at the controls. �You wear that suit well.� �Thank you Doctor.� Alfred replied with little enthusiasm and sat himself on a stone bench that circled one of the pillars. He lounged back and lifted one leg over the other to try and get the point across that such weather controls were uninteresting. �So, do you like it?� The Doctor stood with the fingertips of both his hands tapping against each other, awaiting a response. If he were human, one would guess his age at around thirty five. His brown curling moustache and beard made him look that way but his long hair that was pulled back behind him made him look like a history lecturer. The sewn leather patches on the elbows of his coat didn�t help much. �What do you think?� �Well,� started Alfred, making sure he used the correct words so as not to offend the highly unpredictable Doctor while making sure that he didn�t let him off for the strike of wind, �it�s certainly different.� �Yes.� �I don�t quite know why you decided to change it but if this is what you like, I won�t pester.� Alfred was well educated and was a youthful looking thirty two. His fianc�e still thought he was on a week long holiday in Paris. He left London almost two years ago now. The Doctor said that travelling would mature his mind to the extent that the doubts of whether to marry or not would be thrown out of the window. When he returned, he would be ready for her. �Well that�s it � I wanted a change! The TARDIS wanted a change. I mean, it�d been stuck with that design for years and years. Five regenerations of years even.� He flicked a few switches on the control console as if he was spicing up a meal and frowned at a couple of read outs. �I hate being bored�� Another frown and the Doctor tried to twist a switch round but failed. �Problems?� Alfred got up from his seat. He�d learnt how to distinguish the many faces that the Doctor pulled and this was a sign of something gone wrong. �Problems indeed. Help yourself to a cup of tea won�t you?� The Doctor pointed in a direction away from the console without taking his eyes off of the revolving digits and frequencies. Upon hearing the wonderful words �cup of tea�, Alfred licked his lips and followed the Doctor�s finger and found nothing but a pillar. Applying pressure to one side however, a hatch opened to reveal two cups of already made tea, steaming and perfect. �One lump or two, Doctor?� �Just lemon.� Alfred always asked, perhaps just in case he changed his mind. He never had� until the TARDIS re-design of course. �Here you are.� He set the cup and saucer down on one side of the console and within seconds it was sent crashing down, smashing the bone china and spilling all of the milky tea across the stone floor. The TARDIS was sent tilting onto one side. Alfred�s cup and saucer went flying out of his hands as he grabbed the console like the Doctor for dear life. The crash was heard but he couldn�t be sure where the wake-up juice landed. �Whatever�s going on now?� �Hold on. We�re being dragged to somewhere we don�t want to go.� The Doctor punched at the controls, desperately wanting to defeat whatever had taken hold. �It�s too strong � I�ll have to materialize the TARDIS.� �Can�t you do anything?� �I�m afraid not. The power of the TARDIS is simultaneously being drained. It�s out of my hands.� The gloom of the room grew dimmer and a guttering breeze shot through as if the machine was getting angry. The Doctor certainly was. �Here we go.� Slowly the TARDIS was set to its normal position and the Doctor and Alfred let go of the console. Alfred looked down at the tea stained floor and shook his head at the waste. The Doctor brushed himself off and opened the big doors at the far end of the room with a flick of one of the switches. �You�re not going out there are you?� �Of course I am. I�ll want to meet whoever did that. Most impressive�� Alfred refused to argue and stopped himself from cleaning up the mess on the floor. Like a good Dr. Watson, Alfred followed Holmes� brisk footing through the doorway. A robin danced on the large garden surrounded by tall trees. The grass was of a perfect length having been recently mowed and was home to a plethora of different creatures. The bird found itself in the garden of a large home that sat at one end. Scared, the robin scuttled away quickly upon hearing a faint yet growing rumble coming its way. Slowly but surely a blue police box of the 1960s materialized at the centre of the garden. With a crack the door opened and an old man fell from the darkness onto the lawn. Retired Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge Stewart sat in his favourite chair by the window in the living room of the large house. Even in a home this big, more or less all of his chores were done and dusted and he was allowing himself this time to recuperate by reading the broadsheets. He liked being kept up to date after all � it almost reminded him of his military days. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the police box through the window and then fixed both eyes on the man crumpled on the ground. The newspaper fell out of the Brigadier�s hands as he pushed it to one side and he got up onto his aged feet, slipping them into his slippers as quickly as he could. He left the living room breathing heavily, puffing and panting, and hurried down the corridor towards the main hallway. He hit the door that stopped him in his tracks with his fist and unlocked it, jumping into the sunlight of the mid-afternoon. The police box was a good fifty yards in the distance and he rushed over, jumping down onto his old knees beside the fallen man. With a heave he rolled him onto his back so that he could get a good look at his face. It was different. �Doctor?!� The Brigadier had been fooled before but there was something about the Doctor in all of his regenerations that leapt out at him. It was subtle but even though this man before him looked a total stranger, he knew that it could only be one person. The appearance of the TARDIS was yet more proof. The Doctor was indeed different. He looked older than any of his past incarnations that the Brigadier had had the privilege to know, perhaps even older than the first aged gentleman that had not met the ex-UNIT operative. With white stringy hair and a thin face, he wore black ceremonial robes that made him look like a member of a secret cult. �Doctor?� The Doctor opened his eyes and his bottom lip wobbled slightly, terrified. �She killed Alfred!� The Brigadier sat in his favourite chair reading the day�s broadsheet, glancing over the headlines with seeming limited interest. True: he was preoccupied. It had been three days since the TARDIS appeared on his lawn and it still stood out there, all alone, waiting for its master�s return. Even the robin had been too scared to return. Upon finding the Doctor lying on the ground, he called his wife Doris from the house to help get him inside. They put him in one of the spare bedrooms and let him sleep, not knowing what else to do. The Brigadier knew that it wouldn�t be a good idea to call for outside help or an ambulance or such � there was no one that could help the Doctor but the Doctor himself. Three days though� The Brigadier didn�t like it. He didn�t like not knowing what was happening, especially in his own home, especially when it was a good friend. Yes, he could call him that easily. They�d been in so many scrapes together, so many tight situations involving a barrage of different alien beings�cybermen, yeti, autons�or people from a different dimension altogether like Morgaine and the Destroyer. The Brigadier smiled, remembering the underlying fun of being in such situations. He could look back on years of death, destruction and invasion, but he could still smile at the end of it all. He looked over the top of his glasses at the stairs through the door and saw the old Doctor plodding down. This Doctor seemed slow and frail but yet the Brigadier knew he need not worry. He�d always been as strong as an ox. The Brigadier didn�t say a word as the Doctor walked into the room, still wearing the black Gallfreyian number that twisted up at the shoulders. He sat in the seat opposite and breathed a sigh of relief at finding some comfort, willing the afternoon sun to hit him in the face. �Doctor, it�s good to see you up and about at last�how are you feeling?� �Thank you Brigadier, much better�thank you.� �What was wrong?� �I�I can�t quite remember at the moment�� �You gave me quite a shock turning up like that Doctor.� �Did I? I�m sorry.� �But it�s always nice to see you�whichever one you are. May I get you a drink? Tea perhaps?� �Tea! Cup of tea�help yourself to a cup of tea�� The Doctor pressed his spindly old hands to his temples and concentrated, screwing up his eyes. �They smashed!� he blurted out, almost jumping out of his seat. �Doctor, you�re not making any sense�now would you like that cup of tea or not? I think you could do with one.� The Brigadier began to get out of his seat but the Doctor leaned over and pushed him back down by the shoulder, staring out of the window at the TARDIS. �Where�s Alfred?� The Doctor was now staring deep into the Brigadier�s eyes. He licked his dry lips, wondering what to say. After all, he only had the mumbling words of a man confused to go by. �Alfred�s dead Doctor�at least you said he was dead�you said she killed him.� �Dead?� �Who was she?� �I remember�it was so long ago. I remember�� The Doctor raised his eyebrows, concerned. �I killed her.� �Killed who?� �I k-killed her�� The exterior doors of the TARDIS snapped opened and the Doctor marched out, wobbling slightly on the uneven ground. It was sharp and volcanic black. The air was thick and hot but breathable, at least for the moment. Anything could happen to change that. Alfred followed the Doctor out onto the alien world and gasped. The view was tremendous: high up near the cliff edge they could see a great sea of steaming volcanoes down below and wide rivers of bubbling lava that flowed between. The sky was bright red and two moons were clearly visible in the sky. The tinge of sulphur stabbed at the back of their tongues as they squinted at the horizon. �Where are we?� asked Alfred, untying his cravat and undoing the top button of his shirt. It was sweltering. The wax in his hair would melt all over his face if he wasn�t careful. �I haven�t the foggiest,� replied the bearded Doctor, not noticing the heat as much as his companion. �What I want to know is who brought us here. And why.� �I brought you here,� said a female voice from behind the TARDIS. A young woman, seemingly in her mid twenties, came out into clear view carrying a large style of ray gun which she carried easily, aiming the nozzle at them both. She was blonde and beautiful and appealed to Alfred in the shockingly tight fitting grey suit, but the Doctor was having none of it. He hated being led on wild goose chases even if it was by a beautiful siren. �Hel-lo,� said Alfred with his usual suave manner. �Who are you?� asked the Doctor impatiently. �You don�t recognise me then Doctor?� �Should I?� �I don�t see why not�unless regeneration fools you.� There was a pause � she wasn�t giving anything away. �A Time Lord then. Hold on a minute�I think I do recognise those eyes. You certainly have regenerated Rani but there�s still that evil cunning in your eyes � I�ve become good at spotting it.� �Well done.� �Why have you brought me here? Why here of all places?� �The location is irrelevant. I might as well tell you that you�re being abducted.� �Abducted?� blurted the Doctor sarcastically, using the presence of the taller Alfred to back him up. �I�ve heard that one before.� �You�re going to be my next little science project Doctor�and I don�t need you.� The Rani turned the gun on Alfred and fired mercilessly. The bolt caught him in the chest, sending ripples of energy throughout his body that distorted and fried which set a fringe of the tuxedo alight, sending the human to the floor with a thud. The ray gun was now on the Doctor who�d jumped to the baking ground to check on his trembling companion. �Alfred! Alfred!� The Doctor squeezed the poor man�s hand, desperately hoping for him to spring back to life, but he knew it was impossible. �Is controlling or killing people the only thing that you can do?!� A tear trickled out of the Time Lord�s eye as he looked up at the blonde evil. �Look what you�ve done! You�ve killed him you savage!� �Shut up. He was only a human.� �Only a human?!� The Rani changed the setting on the ray gun and shot a bolt at the Doctor, sending him to sleep against the black rock. The Doctor feverishly blinked his eyes open. He watched Alfred catch the bolt of energy flat in the chest, sending his arms out in a crucified like pose, his fingers shaking uncontrollably, until his hands were brought in towards him as the shot took full effect, throwing him to the ground in a crumpled heap of forgotten flesh. Yet another victim. Something was wrong � the Doctor couldn�t move. Not only did he find himself strapped to a vertical table, but he noticed a slight tinge in his mouth � he�d been drugged. In front of him to the side stood a metal table set on wheels that carried an assortment of tools and devices, some sharp, some electronic. The interior design of the Rani�s TARDIS was much like the classic default that the Doctor used for so many years. This console room was larger, however, to accommodate the extra tables and stands where jars of past experiments were held. Some seemed empty while others had an assortment of different animals pickled inside from a variety of worlds. Whatever the Rani was up to, the Doctor couldn�t begin to guess. One could always be sure that it was no good, however, whatever it was. There in the corner of the console room sat his own old police box. It was the image of home. The process of materializing one TARDIS inside the other was very difficult but it seemed that the Rani had managed it easily enough. Soon she came into view. She was sweating with threads of her blonde hair stuck to her forehead. A patch of sweat showed up on the back of her figure hugging outfit, gasping desperately for air. She unzipped from the collar slightly and took in the needed air. �Keeping in good shape I see?� �Twice a day, thirty mile jog, Doctor. You should have tried it.� The Doctor may not have been the most perfectly shaped individual in this incarnation, but it suited him even if it didn�t suit her. �So how�s the science project coming?� �Everything�s going according to plan.� She still held that same old glance � that looking out of the corner of her eye. Unmistakeable Rani. �I wouldn�t worry about it if I were you.� �What do you intend to do with me? I see you�ve already drugged me. Not wasting any time.� �I�ve made some errors in the past with you Doctor. Now I won�t leave anything to chance. Letting you run about and be your mischievous little self can be problematic.� �Probably a good idea. So come on, start gloating, what are you going to do?� �Well, it�s already started. The preliminary drug is already taking effect.� �What�s already started?� �Regeneration, Doctor.� �You�re forcing me to regenerate?!� The Doctor was furious as if it went against everything, everywhere. He began to sweat as if his face sat right next to a furnace, much more so than he usually would. His body temperature rose suddenly and the effects of the drug went to work inside of him.
Copyright © 2004 Jack M Brown |