By Christopher Woods (alias Beregond)
Word Count: 5259
Rating: G (suitable for all audiences)
Summary: A segment of the Unbelievable Stories of Theo MacLinnich, a Homeschooler, and his adventures with the Doctor.
Rain fell in torrents outside my window. It was a rather wet February, and no one was enjoying it at all. After all, February was supposed to be a month of snow and sledding and all things wintry! Not this year, unfortunately. It was in this kind of weather that I almost started to believe in global warming. Theo, this is terrible. Why do you say that? It’s weird.
As I continued to accompany Dante through the glories of Heaven, in his book, of course, I heard the mail truck begin to come up the street. It always astounded me how the mailmen (or women, as the case might be) stuck to their duties and delivered the mail, no matter what. Not that it was particularly interesting, most of the time. Very rarely did I get any mail, and it was mostly from colleges, saying how their school was such a perfect match for me. Most of the time, I tended to disagree. When it wasn’t that, though, it was a letter from a friend. That was always nice. In this age of computers, I rather wished that people would correspond the old way more frequently. There’s something about a letter that tells you so much more about the person than any email or text could. It tells you that they actually took the time out of their lives to sit down and right it. That was how much they cared about you, how much they loved you, how much they wanted to make you happy. That’s why I always made it a point of honor to write back to my friends as soon as I could, to show them that I did care, that I was willing to put other things aside for them.
This particular day, as I watched the mail through the torrential downpour, I wondered if there was anything in it for me. Not that I was going to find out in this weather, though. But I almost couldn’t wait to find out. It was as if the mailbox was a magnet, drawing me to it. I waited until I had finished the canto I was reading, then threw on my waterproof greatcoat and went for the mail. Grabbing it, I hurried back to the house and looked through it before handing it to Dad. Sure enough, there was something for me. It caught my attention right away, being in a blue envelope and all. Tearing it open, I read these words:
Five o’clock. Don’t worry about the weather.
~~The Doctor
The rest of the day passed very slowly for me. It stopped raining around three, and I actually caught a glimpse of the sun in the west around four. At four fifty I put on my coat, grabbed my laser gun from the last adventure, and slipped outside. And then, promptly at five o’clock, the TARDIS materialized just in front of me. Without stopping to knock, I hopped inside.
“Doctor!” I cried, giving his hand a vigorous shake. “It’s good to see you again.”
“And you, Theo.” He turned to the control panel. “I think,” he began, punching in a few numbers, “That you said you were up for another adventure.”
“What did you have in mind?” I asked.
“Let’s find out,” he replied, throwing the large lever. I grabbed the panel in time, but only barely, as we hurtled through the time vortex. When we landed, I saw that the Doctor’s face looked worried.
“What is it?”
“We’ve landed on a planet,” said the Doctor, checking and rechecking the coordinates, “But none of the records have any mention of a planet here at this time. We should be in deep space.” He paused. “Never mind that. Let’s see what’s here.”
Exiting the TARDIS, I saw quite a dark place, filled with soot and smoke. Indeed, it was so thick, I could hardly see three feet in front of me. Nevertheless, I walked forward, and was surprised to see glimpses of human shapes through the smog. The Doctor walked up to one of them, and tried to get his attention.
“Excuse me,” asked the Doctor, “But could you tell me what this place is?”
The man, for man it was, stared at him blankly, and then continued on his way.
“It’s not a very nice place if the won’t even tell you where you are,” remarked the Doctor.
“Let’s try again,” I suggested. But before we had taken just a few more steps, we were suddenly grabbed from behind. I tried to get free, but my captor was far stronger than me, and had a good grip. The Doctor, I could see, was equally well held, but he didn’t appear to be struggling. Unwilling to be separated from the Doctor on this impossible planet, I gave up the struggle as well, and submitted to being dragged about. Soon though, once it was realized that we weren’t going to run, we were set on our feet, and hurried to an unknown destination. Although our captors were right next to us, I couldn’t see them at all, not even the strong hands with which they directed me and the Doctor. Finally, the mad run ended, and I found myself right in front of a large rock. As I watched, the boulder moved away, revealing a set of stairs that descended into the ground. our captors thrust us down, and replaced the boulder.
As soon as the boulder was back in position, lights flooding the tunnel. I looked around at my captors, but their dark clothes and hoods still prevented me from seeing who they were. Glancing over at the Doctor, I saw him motion me to be silent, as we were escorted down the tunnel.
Presently, we came out into a large hall, with a table in the center. Hovering above the table was what I took to be a hologram of the planet we were on, and around the table were various people, talking earnestly but quietly in groups. There was one who caught my eye, though, both because of his clothes and his form. His clothes, it must be admitted, were far from what I expected to see: a thick, brown leather jacket, and an aviator’s cap and goggles. His form was equally odd: though mostly like a human, his face was quite similar to that of a cat. One of my captors left us and approached him, and led him back. Again glancing at the Doctor, I saw the light of familiarity on his face.
“Brannigan!” cried the Doctor.
“Shh!” replied the cat-person. “It’s not safe tae talk too loud doon here. Ye canna tell whene’er the Slavers might be listenin’ to ye. We’re safe if we keep it doon, though. Not tae mention that Ah’ve never seen ye before in me life.”
“It’s me, the Doctor! Don’t you remember me? You helped me search for my friend in New New York. It’s good to see you again, Brannigan! But what are you doing down here, and where are we?”
“Doctor! Of course, what a fool Ah’ve been!” Brannigan turned to the Doctor’s guards. “Why didn’t ye tell me he’d com’ in a blue box?”
“We didn’t hear or see his ship, sir,” replied the guard.
“Well, that’s alright,” said Brannigan. “Ye can go now, ye’re no longer needed. Now,” Brannigan faced the Doctor again, “Let me tell ye our predicament.”
We listened as Brannigan, in his Scottish accent, told us what exactly had happened. As the story unfolded, the Doctor and I learned that the planet was entirely artificial, having been built by an advanced race of aliens that Brannigan simply called the Slavers, since he knew of no other name. When the Slavers had finished the planet so that it could support life, they had raided New Earth time and again, taking away only humans, and none of Catkind (I eventually gathered that that was the race Brannigan belonged to). The captured humans had been genetically modified to obey all orders immediately and without question. Brannigan and some others, curious about the disappearances, formed a small group to try and track down the kidnappers. The Slavers were finally caught in the act, and Brannigan and some others discreetly followed their spaceship to this impossible planet, and set up this underground system.
“See,” finished Brannigan, “We had tae nab ye, otherwise the Slavers would’ve gotten to ye first, and ye’d be stuck here till ye died of old age or overworkin’, whatever cam’ first.”
“As it is,” said the Doctor, “I’m stuck here until I’ve rid this planet of the Slavers.”
“We’re willin’ tae help ye as much as possible, Doctor,” put in Brannigan.
“Yes, but not with guns. I will go to these Slavers myself, and tell them to get off this planet.”
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” I finally managed to get a word in, “But how do you expect to overthrow the Slavers without guns?”
“Well, if you’re thinking of Gandhi, then it won’t be like that. No, there is another way.” The Doctor turned to Brannigan. “I assume you know the location of everything on this planet?”
“Most certainly.”
“Good. And you have people trained in genetic modification and other such things like it?”
“Of course!”
“Good! Get together a small group of these people, the ones you trust the most, and bring them back here. I’ll also need hackers, if you have any. And sappers.”
“What have you got in mind, Doctor?” I asked, smiling a bit, as Brannigan jogged off to fetch his men.
“I always liked a good spy story,” he replied.
The Doctor began to study the hologram, gazing at it so intently that he must have been committing several large parts of it to memory. Taking out his sonic, he zoomed in on a specific part. I could see that this was a large complex of buildings, extremely well built, with numerous luxuries visible even from the outside. I at once knew that this was the Slavers’ capital, but it was not what the Doctor wanted to see. He again sonicked the hologram, and it changed to another part of the planet. Here were large bunkers, filled with defenses and other warlike implements that I didn’t recognize.
“Am I right in saying that that’s the place where the Slavers control everyone from?” the Doctor asked one of the people standing nearby.
“Yes,” replied the man, “It is. As a matter of fact,” he said, leaning over and focusing even more on a particular bunker, “It’s that one where the commands go out. We’ve tried digging a tunnel to it, but the Slavers have defenses underneath the ground as well.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem anymore,” stated the Doctor, tossing his screwdriver in the air and catching it again.
“Slow down, I don’t quite follow,” I said, holding my hands up.
“It’s like this,” explained the Doctor, “The Slavers stole a bunch of people, genetically modified them to obey all commands instantly, and installed a wireless in their brains so that they could give commands without having to be right in front of their slaves. Get it?”
“Yes, sure I do.” And I did, actually. It really wasn’t that hard to grasp. So we were going to rescue a bunch of slaves? Sounds good! I’ll be home in time for dinner. As long as the Doctor doesn’t go wrong in the TARDIS and we accidentally end up in ancient Greece or futuristic Germany.
Brannigan returned with his picked group. The Doctor gave the rundown of the plan, and we set out once the message interceptors had told us that the command for the humans to rest had been given out. The tunnel was completely dark, so the Doctor led the way, using his screwdriver as a flashlight. When we arrived at the end, the Doctor deactivated the defenses and moved out of the way for the sappers, who soon had us out, right in the middle of the control room. Advanced technology and computers were sprawling all over the place, so I thought it best for me to stand back. The hackers soon had ability to give commands to the human slaves.
“Right then,” said the Doctor, “Here’s the next step. Genetic modification people, go to these coordinates,” –he handed one of them a piece of paper– “And enter the blue box you find there. Be prepared, though, it’s bigger on the inside. Go up the stairs, second door on the right leads to the genetic lab. Go ahead and familiarize it. You hackers, send out these same coordinates and directions to all the humans. When they arrive there,” the Doctor told the genetics scientists, “You go ahead and start experimenting. But don’t do anything that may cost them their life.”
“What about you, Doctor?” I asked.
“I’m going to the palace, if palace it is.”
“I’ll come with you, then,” I volunteered.
“No. Stay here, where you’re safe.”
“Safer than with you?”
“Come on, then.”
The Doctor and I dropped back into the tunnel as Brannigan’s men went to work. Shortly afterward, we popped up again in front of a gigantic palace, all covered with towers and spires. Whoever these Slavers were, I could tell at once that they were more than a few feet taller than me. The Doctor strode boldly up to the door, not worried in the least about what might be waiting. A bell pull hung just a few feet out of reach, so the Doctor sonicked the bell instead. A great boom resounded all throughout the area, getting louder in volume instead of softer. It went on like that for at least ten seconds, before it finally faded away. We heard steps then, though no light shone in the window. The great door opened, to reveal a gigantic creature I can only describe as being perfectly hideous. The most accurate likeness would have been Grendel, that monster slain by the brave Beowulf. In a voice that deafened me, he addressed us.
“What business do you have with his Mightiness, the Emperor of the Universe, King Jorblak?”
“Business of the most important kind,” replied the Doctor, “And my master will be very angry with you if you do not let me in to see him at once!”
“Who is your master?” questioned the monster.
“I am my own master,” answered the Doctor, truthfully enough, “So you’d better let me in, or I’ll have to force my way in!”
“How could you possibly manage that?” laughed the creature, incredulous that the Doctor could actually get passed.
“I don’t think you would like to find out,” said the Doctor. “I have laid waste to whole star systems with the flick of a finger. A single Slaver would be nothing to me.”
“And yet, we have been able to control many of your kind,” stated the Slaver.
“Not my kind. I am not a human. I thought the sonic device might have at least pointed out that much.”
“If you wish to get passed, than fight me.”
“By what means?”
“Strength!”
“Alright, then. Come out!” The Doctor warned me: “Stand back, Theo, this could get ugly.” He handed me his suitcoat.
Striding resolutely, the Slaver came into the yard before the gate. The Doctor looked like a puny mouse in comparison, utterly incapable of taking down this hulk of flesh and bone. Silently, I stood back and watched as the two competitors estimated the other’s skill and strength. Suddenly, the Doctor leaped for the creature’s legs, but not fast enough. Showing great agility, the Slaver leaped to one side and aimed a blow with his gigantic fist for the Doctor’s head. The Doctor deftly dodged the attack, and again tried for the legs, only to be foiled once more. The Slaver then picked up one great leg and kicked the Doctor. The Doctor managed to jump directly up, landing on the foot. Seeing the mistake it had made, the Slaver desperately tried to shake the Doctor off, but the Doctor clung like a limpet. Slowly, he made his way up the heaving mass, until he was just behind the neck of the monster. As I watched, the Doctor pressed his hand against the back of the monster’s neck, and the monster staggered and fell back, crushing the Doctor beneath it.
“Doctor!” I rushed over to him. “How did you do that?”
“I’m a Doctor, aren’t I? Now get in there and scout out. I’ll be with you in a second.” So saying, the Doctor began struggling out from under the Slaver.
I left him his suit-coat and hurried into the palace. A deep gloom was everywhere, so I pulled out a small flashlight and turned it on. The small beam penetrated the darkness like a lance. Leaning against the wall, I saw what must have been a pocket knife to the Slavers, but I thought would make quite a good sword. With that in one hand and my flashlight in the other, I advanced. The entrance hall was long and tall, and I kept straight, though constantly looking to the right and left for any Slavers who might be crouching in the shadow. I saw none in the hall, but at the end was a great door, locked at least five feet above my head. Looking about, I caught sight of a large chair, close to the edge of the door. I studied the door closely. It was built out of several pieces of wood, most vertical, but two lying horizontally. A plan came into mind. Sticking my new sword into my belt, I climbed up the legs of the chair and soon reached the seat. Taking out my Graske gun, I aimed right for the lock. One short blast, and the door was free. Putting the gun back into my pocket and the flashlight between my teeth, I climbed up the back of the chair. It was then when I had to do the most difficult and improbable part of my plan. Gauging the distance, I took a flying leap onto the horizontal plank. The Slavers had kept their doors well oiled, and my momentum cracked it open just a few feet. I dropped down to the floor and took out my sword and light. What I saw then was expected, but unwelcome.
A Slaver lounged lazily in a large chair. He seemed to be some sort of guard, and I hoped that it wouldn’t be much longer until I reached the King. The Slaver seemed to be sleeping, so I decided to sneak past and get to the other door. But my dramatic entrance had already awoken the monster, and it stopped me in my tracks.
“Ho there, theif!” it cried. “What treasure are you planning to steal?”
“I demand an audience with your king!” I cried out, trying to sound as fearless as the Doctor.
“Then you might have come at a more reasonable time. As it is, you’ll have to fight me before you go any further! How shall we fight?”
I glanced at my weapon. “Swords!” I cried brandishing my own above my head.
The Slaver laughed, an ugly sound. “Ha! That’s little more than a knife you have! But we’ll do it your way.” He leaned over and reached behind his chair, drawing out a sword that must have measured at least twelve feet long. We got into position, and the duel began. The Slaver tried to skewer me like a rat, and it was all I could do to keep out of the way. He lounged and lounged, forcing me to jump back each time. In the midst of fighting, an idea struck me over the head, it was so obvious. The next time the Slaver lounged, I jumped forward and ducked, the Slaver’s sword brushing my hair. Seizing the opportunity, I jabbed my sword deep into his leg. The Slaver howled in pain, jerking his leg away. I was determined not to lose my sword, though, and held on as I flew through the air. When the Slaver’s foot touched ground again, I pulled my sword out and struck the other one. The same thing happened again, and I went back and forth, until the Slaver had lost all strength in his legs, and collapsed on the ground.
The Doctor came running up behind me, using the sonic to light his way.
“Well done!” he cried. “You actually managed to clear the way! No we can go on to the King.”
“How do you know there aren’t any more guards?” I asked.
“Simple. That’s the way it always is in your little fairy stories, isn’t it? There are always three challenges that must be overcome before the hero wins. We’ve done two, now for the third, which would obviously come from the King.” The Doctor led me to the next door.
Thankfully, it was open a bit, and we easily passed through. The room we entered was large and cavernous, full of emptiness, if that makes any sense. The whole place was entirely empty, except for one chair at the far end, on which sat a single solitary figure. The Doctor held up his sonic and again used it to pierce the gloom in this sinister throne room. I also took out my own light, and our two beams were all the hope the poor slaves had at that moment. We approached the vast throne, and again the Doctor called out fearlessly:
“We bring you a challenge!”
The great bulk of flesh on the enormous chair of stone moved and shook itself from slumber, answering the Doctor’s call.
“What is your challenge?” he answered in a voice that echoed off the sheer stone walls.
“Release the human slaves, or face the Oncoming Storm!” replied the Doctor.
The King laughed. “You dare challenge me to such a thing! Do you know who I am?” He rose from his rocky throne, standing at least twenty-five feet. “I am King Jorblak the Feared, Destroyer of Star Systems, Emperor of Galaxies, Builder of Planets, and Scourge of the Universe!”
“I doubt that,” stated the Doctor, matter-of-factly.
“Prove it,” I added in response to Jorblak.
“Then you shall show me by what right you try to take my legal property!” demanded the monster.
“First of all, your property is entirely stolen, and I know of no law where you can actually do that legally, unless it’s a law you made up yourself. Secondly, it’s not your property. Those people out there have a life of their own, just waiting. Well,” said the Doctor, shaking to come to fruition, “If you would only leave them alone. And thirdly, if you had really done all that you just claimed, you would have no need of human slaves. Convinced yet?”
“No.” It was obvious that Jorblak was out of his reckoning with the Doctor.
“Of course, I forgot, a tyrant is never convinced of his own weaknesses. Well then, I am determined to free those people. So let’s do this. If you can tell me accurately where your slaves are, then I’ll allow you to keep them. However, if you can’t, then I shall take them all with me. Is it a deal?”
“No,” responded King Jorblak. “You have probably already hidden the slaves and taken over the control room, proving that I wouldn’t know where my own slaves are and thus winning them over. But I can see through your little tricks.” Jorblak stroked his great chin. “We will do it this way. I know you are both great fighters in order to have beaten my best champions. You must also be extremely clever, in order to find their weaknesses so quickly. But that would take a long time of studying. Perhaps you are not so clever on your feet. After all, to come in here and think I was stupid enough to fall for that!” King Jorblak laughed again.
“Then what is your challenge?” asked the Doctor. His voice was calm, but it was like the calm before a storm.
“Bring me the head of the most feared creature in all the universe. Bring me the head of the only one who is greater than me. Bring me the head of the Doctor.”
The Doctor did a mock bow, smiling. “It’s already here.”
Realization of who he was talking to slowly dawned on King Jorblak, and a look of utter amazement crossed his face for a second. Then it retained its previous haughty demeanor.
“Well, then,” said the King, “You’ll just have to do me the honor of cutting it off.”
“And you get to keep your slaves.”
“Of course!” A smile spread across the King’s ugly face.
“Well, I can tell you this one thing right now,” said the Doctor, “It’s never going to happen. Also, you’re right, I’ve already freed the slaves. Not only hidden, mind you, but freed. At least, they should be free by now.”
“But that would require a knowledge of genetic modification equal to our own!” cried King Jorblak tauntingly.
“And that’s just what you get when someone’s been studying you non-stop for quite a long time: people who know just as much about anything as you do. I’m afraid you’re already beaten, Jorblak. You might as well pack up and go home.”
For a moment, the Slaver King simply sat and stared in silent fury. Then, without warning, he leaped from his throne. In the same instant, I whipped out my weapons, and the Doctor, his sonic. But the King did not come for us. Instead, he dashed through a hitherto unseen door. A few seconds later, we heard a great bell, louder and harsher than the doorbell.
“Run!” cried the Doctor. Turning immediately, we dashed down the way we had come, while all around us, harsh voices were heard as harsh creatures trailed us. Sprinting from the palace, we dashed down the hole without losing beat. We reached the rebel headquarters, still quiet. But no longer.
“Everyone, run! Get to my blue box, now! There’s no time to lose!”
Immediately, the underground base erupted in activity. However, the Doctor and I weren’t around much longer to see it, as we dashed up another tunnel. Just in time, too: a flood of oil came down the tunnel we had just come from, and I immediately saw the Slavers’ intent.
“Doctor! Wait! We need to help those people!” I cried after him in between breaths.
The Doctor stopped. “You’re right,” he stated, “But there’s nothing we can do but keep running.”
I felt a blast of heat on my back, and knew that the Slavers had set fire to the oil. I crossed myself and said a brief prayer for the souls of those who had been caught, then kept running up the tunnel. We emerged in the control room, where Brannigan and his technicians were still on guard.
“Brannigan! Thank goodness you’re safe. Get your men together and let’s get out of here!”
“What’s wrong, Doctor?” Brannigan asked, a quizzical look on his face.
“To put it simply, I got on King Jorblak’s bad side, and now he wants my head.” The Doctor paused. “That’s not quite accurate. He’s always wanted my head, but now he sees a chance to get at it. Let’s go! And not down the tunnel, I’m afraid that way’s blocked.”
I rushed for the door, only to find it locked. “No problem,” I muttered angrily as I blasted it open with my gun. The door fell apart, and the sound of a general alarm and search enveloped us. The Doctor once again took the lead, all the rest of us following like toy ducks on a string. Only I can assure you, we were the fastest toy ducks there have ever been. The ground shook beneath the feet of the hunters, and I could hear them shrieking as they searched the whole planet for us, but found nothing. The whole thing seemed a nightmare, and I wondered when I would wake up and find myself in bed, safe as could be. Distracted, I tripped and fell flat on my face. Definitely not in bed. Up again, and run, run, run with the Doctor. I could hardly see, save for the glow of the sonic, which I followed and watched, making sure never to lose sight of the blue will-o’-the- wisp. At last, I saw a great box silhouetted against the dark sky, and hope rose in my heart. That was before a leg the size of a tree blocked our path, and a leering, vicious face peered down at us. Hardly thinking, I lifted my sword, and with a sudden strength, threw it between the greedy eyes. A ghastly groan escaped the hideous shape, and it fell forward, blocking us from the TARDIS. But, like so many ants, we crawled over the lump of flesh and continued on our way, into the TARDIS.
Immediately, we were met by cheering crowds, all assembled in the control room, seemingly waiting just for us. I don’t think I have ever seen the Doctor more annoyed.
“Alright, alright!” he said, “I take it you’re thankful for everything I’ve done. But it’s not over yet, so please get out of my way and let me finish the job.”
The crowds of newly freed slaves were unwilling to be too far away from the Doctor, and only made enough room for him, and him alone, to reach the controls. Hushed, they waited in breathless anticipation as the Doctor attempted to take off. But I could see that something was wrong; something was dreadfully wrong.
“Up the stairs, make yourself at home,” the Doctor stated. I could see that he was much more frustrated than he should be. Another fairy tale, right? We complete the challenges, save the people, and happily ever after!
My reverie was cut short as the screen above the controls began to cackle. As I watched, the head of King Jorblak came into focus, gleefully leering at us.
“Looks like you’ve got us stuck here, Jorblak,” said the Doctor.
“Indeed I have!” responded Jorblak. “While you were out saving the slaves, I sent my best technician to sabotage your ship. He did it quite well, I think. A well placed laser ray to the central pillar, it was. You certainly won’t be leaving anytime soon. And, I might as well tell you, there are at least fifty of my best soldiers surrounding you this minute. Do you want to see?” The picture changed, and we saw the clearing the TARDIS had landed in, completely devoid of anything interesting, and filled with Slavers. “Don’t worry, Doctor,” the voice of Jorblak continued, “Your ship will be kept quite safe. It will prove useful to me.”
The Doctor was visibly angered by this last statement. “Not it, she! Flippity bye!” he shouted at the screen, and tried the lever again. This time, the TARDIS began perfectly, and we were soon safe in the time vortex. “You see,” the Doctor said, turning to me, “What Jorblak didn’t realize was that all TARDISes have their own conscious, and also their own immune system. When I tried the first time, I knew the TARDIS was almost done healing itself, so all I had to do was to get Jorblak monologuing, just a little. And now we’re safely on our way home.”