Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ A Growing Madness ❯ Chapter 1

Doctor Who and its accoutrements are the property of the BBC, and we obviously don't have any right to them. Any and all fan fiction characters belong to their respective creators. Alas no one makes any money from this story, and it's all done out of love for a cheap-looking sci-fi show.

 

Chapter 1 Rescued

 

Another wheezing shudder sounded across the stormy planet. Slowly the box blinked into the third dimension. Inside, three passengers readied themselves for a rescue mission.

In her room, Ace was packing away her chemistry set. Test tubes and racks disappeared into a wooden cabinet. She was stacking several deodorant cans into a shoulder bag when there was a knock at her door.

"C'mon in. it's open."

Slowly the door swung to. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"No. Come in or go away, squirt."

The timid Scot tiptoed into her mess. Shirts and skirts were piled everywhere. Rock posters covered the walls. Here and there were stacked Ace's comprehensive collection of CDs. Silver and red disks weren't even in their covers.

"Doctor says we've landed. Wants to know if yuir coming or not."

"Of course I am. Come on in. Sit anywhere."

Callom plopped down on a chair. Sat right on top of the T-shirts, folding his kilt underneath himself. He completely ignored her messy room.

She turned to see uncertainty in his hazel eyes. That young thin face, slightly freckled was still wary of anything.

"Chill, kid. You look like I'm gonna bite you on the neck."

"I'm jest worried. What if we canna find her? How does yon Doctor even ken if this is the right planet""

"We'll just move onto the next one. Till we find your friend."

"How can ye be so certain? I mean. This is a big universe n' all."

Ace sat down on the end of her unmade bed. "Listen to me, squirt. We are going to find her. Don't you worry. Okay?"

For the first time in hours, the Scot actually managed to smile. "Wi' yuir confidence, we'd better not fail. Or else we'd be in real trebble."

"Got that right."

"Love the room. Makes me think of ma ain home."

"Best not to think about that too much."

"No, I guess not," he sighed. "That's the past. I'm a Time Traveler nau."

He sensed a resonance. Despite his efforts not to pry telepathically, he saw vague glimpses of the same confusion. Ace rarely thought of her parents, in the same way he rarely thought of his da, back in Scotland. She remembered the town she grew up in, but certain things were carefully filed into locked drawers. For example, Callom remembered the mountains and moors, but not the basement. Or Miss Fergusson's cooked meals, and not the nights he went hungry. Without food.

Or the sting of a leather belt. When someone was angry. The resonance was so painful it hurt. Was Ace more like him than he thought?

Life made you hard, or life made you scared. Ace was hard; Callom was scared. Afraid to leave the familiar. But dying for adventure beyond. that's why he'd started traveling with Vitreum.

"I'd better go get ma ain stuff together," he said hastily, rising from the chair.

"See you in a few, kid."
***

In the brightly-lit console room, the Doctor stood with his hands on his hips. Reaching in his pockets, he pulled out a leather case. Slipped out a pair of half-moon glasses with wire frames, and put them on. Checked the atmospheric readings time and again.

He realized someone was looking over his shoulder, from a distance. "Hullo, Callom. All ready to go?"

"Aye. But I'm still worried. What if this is the wrong planet."

"don't worry," said the Doctor, still intent over one keyboard. "It isn't."

"But ma powers aren't that predictable."

"Ace claims the TARDIS isn't either. But the old girl has a good instinct. Uncannily she can materialize in the right place at the right time. it's very frustrating."

"Like ye?" giggled Callom.

Hearing the Scot laugh, he spun round. "I resemble that remark. Do me a favor. Go check the gravity readings across there."

Not touching the console, Callom circled to the panel across from the Doctor. His features were blurred staring through the Time Rotor in its center. "This one?"

"What's the output say?" asked the Doctor.

"Atmosphere about 18 percent oxygen, 60 percent argon. And some nitrogen thrown in fer guid measure. Doesna sound that safe, wi all that argon though."

"No problem."

"Wind velocity's about 150 kph. Pretty stiff. I dinna want to get caught in that."

"Gravity?"

"Bout 1 G. Same as earth's I'd take it,” nodded Callom.

"Right. Good chance of keeping our feet well on the ground, lad. As long as none of us has fasted, that is."

Callom shook his head. Walked over to an old-fashioned coat rack near the double doors. Reached for a long herringbone jacket and scarf. Slipped it on, and wound the scarf several times around his neck.

"Wait up, you two," called Ace, walking into the room. She wore her usual jacket covered in pins and patches like a well-traveled steamer trunk.

Over his question mark pullover sweater, the Doctor put on a long brown coat. In the back it had a sort of belt, and handkerchiefs dangled out of the hip pockets. "Better put on something warm. It is a bit windy out there," he advised.

"Just as long as I don't pass out breathing the air, I'm fine," commented Ace, zipping up her jacket. She put on a striped stocking cap over her dark hair, and a pair of red woolen mittens.

Callom popped his highland bonnet on his head, making sure the ribbons hung down the back of his neck. Slipped on gloves tucked into his jacket sleeves.

"Won't you be cold without anything on your knees?" Ace asked him, before the Doctor opened the door. All Callom did was give her a withering look, and shake his head.

"I'm wearing mah wool socks. What else should I put on?"

Out into the climate of another world they trudged. Bitter winds whipped past their cheeks. A few bright stars twinkled overhead in a purple sky. On the horizon stretched a band of sherbet green. Slowly a green sun was rising. Already a large red disc loomed on the horizon.

"That's the planet Tetrabyria," said the Doctor, raising his voice over the howling wind. Crags and spires pointed toward a huge dome of night.

"Och, ye mean we're on a moon? And Tetrabyria is a gas giant... like Jupiter?"

"Yes, lad, that's right. you've learned your astronomy well."

"Thanks to Raina," said the young Scot sadly.

"let's get a move on," shouted Ace, moving ahead. She pulled out her baseball bat. "I'll take the point."

The ends of Callom's ribbons swirled past his neck. He had to hold his bonnet on his head with one hand, and clutch his jacket collar shut with the other. "What a crazy place!" he called. "who'd want to live here""

"The inhabitants are under the surface, Callom," explained the Doctor. They walked together after Ace. Fumbling in his breast pocket, the Time Lord pulled out a pocket watch. Lifted the silver lid. Except the watch gleamed with tiny flashing lights.

"Some timepiece, Doctor. Doesna look like any watch I've seen."

"It's a space mystery watch. Tells me things that are more useful than just the time."

"Of course. What wuild a Time Lord need wi a watch," muttered Callom, shouldering his bag and following them.

If he shut his eyes, he could hear songs in the wind. Like the wind on the moors of Scotland. Such pretending was so tempting, so he focused his mind on Vitreum instead. That resonance now sang in his brain. Back when they first met, she had placed a piece of her mind into his, and he had into hers. A permanent fixture, like a window or a door. A telephone line down which their communications drifted. Unlike many beings, her mind operated at a much different wavelength. He had to have her step up his thoughts through a psychic loudspeaker to let her hear his.

That's Vitreum why she wore that headband. Called it a psychokinetic modulator. Let her translate other creature's brain waves into a pattern she could discern. Also it served to focus her raw psychic powers. Without it, she'd go mad.

It also served to protect her from attacks. Mental attacks. Since she was one of the species that had genetically engineered itself to mimic humanoid brain frequencies. If she was a normal Mantissan, she'd be immune to telepathic manipulation by humanoids. No one could read her mind, because they couldn't pick up her high frequency thoughts.

Time Lords didn't have this advantage. Even though their brains were more powerful, their minds still operated in the wavelength range close to humans. that's why some of them could discern human thoughts. Not always that well.

"Hey Doctor! Wait!"

"What?"

"I feel the resonance. Over that way!"

Both males ran to catch up with Ace. To tell her she was headed in the wrong direction. Now daylight was illuminating the landscape around them. High craggy mountains pierced the level horizon, higher than many on Earth. Glancing briefly at the ground around him, Callom thought he was walking on limestone. Certainly it was porous. Coral reefs could have built up this landscape. Or stromatellites. Callom recalled that calcium carbonate in limestone usually came from a biological source. But what had dried up the oceans?

Raina the geologist might know. If they could find her.

"Ace! Come back! Callom feels a lead . . . "

No Ace. The landscape was empty of her.

"Uh oh," he mumbled.

"What d' ye mean, uh oh?" asked Ace.

"There are these creatures, called Tetraps. Nasty lot. Encountered them before."

"What do they look like?"

"Large, hairy, and bat like. But you don't get a good enough look till they're right on top of you."

"Ye ken they can fly?" flinched Callom.

"Right. And they literally have eyes in the back of their heads,” the Doctor comfirmed.

"They'd make good teachers?" Callom teased.

"Well, maybe she's just around the corner. Scouting ahead, she said."

"Ace! Where are you!" yelled the Doctor, cupping his hands around his mouth.

"Ace! C'mon out, lass!" cried Callom's treble voice against the base din.

A swishing noise enveloped the Doctor. Callom jumped out of the way of a crackling net that dropped from nowhere. He spun about, smelling oily fur. A hissing grimacing muzzle was near him. Instinctively, the Scots lad shut his eyes. A switch closed in his mind, a gland oozed a chemical.

To leave a bat like creature blinking its four eyes in confusion. Callom gripped the limestone spire from a distance of a few meters away. He could see the Doctor struggling inside a sparkling energy web. Valiantly he fought to get out.

"Those bat things, are they the Tetraps?" Callom wondered, squinting to get a better look. "They're no familiar with teleporting, luckily."

"ACE!" shouted the Doctor wildly, getting himself more tangled then ever. His eyes widened as the Tetrap reeled in the net. It was fired out of some sort of special gun.

Howling, a girl jumped from above. She swung her baseball bat. Unfortunately for her, the Tetrap's rear eye spotted her. All she succeeded in doing was grazing its shoulder.

Another Tetrap swooped down. Ace retreated, bat extended. Shoulder the weapon, and swung at the grasping claws. The Tetrap lunged, and she managed to score a hit.

A net gun fired, from the first Tetrap. Narrowly it missed the teenager. "You creeps won't get me that easily," she taunted.

However, the other recovered, and raised its net gun. Ace looked both ways at the creatures. couldn't go left or right. Callom felt sick. What could he do? "Wait a minnit. What is a Tetrap scared of?"

Reaching out with his mind, he scanned. Their brains were chattering records in reverse. But their thoughts were discernable. The young Scot thought of the biology text. Bats ate insects, right?

"Try this, beasties!" he cried, putting his hands to his head.

Instantly the two Tetraps howled, and hissed. Ran about wildly flapping their membranous wings. Ace clobbered the net guns from their hands.

"Htom! Htom!" they hissed, and disappeared in a flutter of oily fur.

"Mega!" cried Ace, glancing around. "Scared 'em off."

"Ace, once you stopped congratulating yourself, do you mind?"

"Oh, sorry Professor. didn't see you there."

Indignantly the Doctor put his hands on his hips. Difficult to do, when you were laying spread eagle on the ground.

"This oughta keep you out of trouble," she laughed, trudging over to him as he struggled with the net.

"OW! Just extricate me from this entanglement."

"don't get yourself wrapped up any more than you are," she said, trying to keep from laughing. "I'll find something to cut you out with."

"Do be careful, Ace. I'm not wrapped in twine, you know."

Callom rushed out to them both. "Are ye okay?" he asked.

"Where were you hiding, squirt?"

"Dinna blame me. Ye were doing fine, lass. I shuild ask ye where ye disappeared to, scaring us like that!"

"Spotted some bat's reject relatives, and wanted to catch them by surprise," said Ace.

"OW! Do you mind?"

"Stop grousing Professor. I'm doing the best I can here."

Reaching into his sock, Callom pulled out his knife. "Will this help?"

"Not against titanium strands," sighed the Doctor.

"Good job I was here to get you out of this mess," said Ace. She grabbed a piece of rock, and started to saw at the fibers. Callom tried his best with his serrated knife.

"I rather think it wasn't your antics," said the Doctor. At last he could move his legs.

"What are you on about? I showed up in the nick of time."

"They were terrified of something. And it wasn't a teenager with an aluminum sided rounders stick."

"That's the thanks I get for saving your butt," she griped. "Can you move your hands now?"

"Yes, thank you."

"So if I didn't scare them what did? Some high frequency ultrasonic thing you whipped up?"

"Not me. Callom,” the Doctor pointed to the young man.

"Callom? Get real," said Ace.

"I did, lass," said the young Scot shyly.

"How?"

"I thought of what a bat wuild be scared of."

"But I didn't see anything…"

"You didn't," said the Doctor, sitting up. Wincing, he dusted himself down with his handkerchief. "But they did."

"Stop speaking in riddles."

"Callom is as I suspected a psycho projector. His power is to tune into the cerebral cortexes of brains to imprint images."

"Aye. That's the scientific way o' putting it, yes."

"Wait a minute," said Ace, putting a hand to her head. "You mean to tell me he's like a television broadcasting antennae?"

"Crudely, yes. He telepathically transmits images to brains. Most of the visual processing is in the brain, not the eyes. So it looks like there is something there, but it isn't."

"But what did they see?” Ace wondered.

"A giant moth," laughed the Doctor, slapping his thighs. "Brilliant, my lad."

"Thank ye," smiled the Scots boy.

"Okay, guys. We got a lot of ground to cover," said Ace, helping the Doctor to his feet. "Let's get out of this wind storm."
***

A few minutes later, with Callom's scrying, the trio found the cave entrance. Gratefully they slipped into the narrow aperture, at a forty-five degree angle from the ground. They had to duck down to get inside. Morosely the cave moaned the farther they trekked inside.

When the winds faded to a background white noise, the Doctor stopped everyone. They could hear him fumbling through his pockets. "Must have a torch here somewhere," he muttered.

Seconds later his face appeared in a small shaft of light. He clutched a rectangular hand flashlight, the type you could buy in a gas station. "Are you goin to tell a ghost story?" Ace asked him.

"Whatever makes you ask that?"

"I dunno. Swing the flashlight outta your face, and let's see where we are."

The beam swung around in a circle. Gradually their eyes were adjusting to the reduced light. No outside light penetrated this far down.

Impatiently, Ace pulled a more substantial flashlight out of her backpack. It was one of those heavy metal ones a camper would take. The type with a fluorescent panel in it. She beamed it the opposite direction as the Doctor.

"How far do ye think we're under?" asked Callom.

"Oh, off the bat I'd say six meters. Enough to stop and consider what we're about to undertake."

"Please, dinna mention the word "bat", Doctor."

In the rectangle view they saw the red rock walls. Small spongy holes glittered with tiny rock crystals in the rusty matrix. "Hmm. Looks like sedimentary rock to me," muttered the Doctor. He pulled a small geological hammer out of his pocket, and chipped at the walls.

"Ere, there's time for that later," said Ace.

Hand on his shoulder strap, Callom glanced forwards and backwards. The hair on his knees stood on end, and he shivered. "Er, ken we get moving?" he asked. "The psi trace is stronger t' the left."

"Very well. Lead on, McDuff," said the Doctor.

"Mah name's McPherson, if ye please," snapped Callom, highland pride aroused.

"Just a saying, lad."

Further down they trudged. The cavern floor angled gently downwards. Umbrella in one hand, the Doctor held his flashlight in the other. He brought up the rear of the party. Up ahead, Callom carried Ace's large fluorescent lantern. Each step filled him with further dread. To have darkness in front of him was just as unnerving as to have it behind him. Behind him, Ace walked, eyes flicking back and forth on the narrow passage walls.

A pungent smell grew stronger. "Phew, what's that?" asked Callom, wrinkling his young nose.

"Smells like bird shit," muttered Ace to herself.

"We are in a live cave," commented the Doctor. He appeared as calm as a professor walking into a lecture hall before class.

" You mean I'm smelling bat droppings?" asked Callom. "I ken guess who made 'em."

"Better cover your mouths, children. We could be walking into a rookery."

"Not of those Tetraps, I hope."

"No. The smell would more closely resemble human excrement."

"How can you be so blasted calm?" asked Ace.

"I'll take the point, if you don't mind," sniffed the Doctor, hurt. Clamping a handkerchief over his nose, he handed his umbrella to Callom and strode into the room.

In here, the ceiling soared much higher. Thin translucent stalactites, called soda straws, nestled next to huge dripping pillars.

"Phwagh," gasped Callom, pulling his tartan scarf over his mouth and nose. "What a stench!"

Ace trudged ahead, pulling her jacket collar around her mouth. Underneath their feet, a white paste carpeted the cavern floor. Tiny squeaks echoed from the ceiling. Normal bats fluttered and jockeyed for position on the various gallery roofs. They didn't notice the Doctor and his two companions. Only when Ace beamed her flashlight up directly onto the roof did the clouds disperse and flap around them.

"Hmm. Must be their plasma source," muttered the Doctor.

"What?"

"I'd reckon they either eat these bats, or make another use of them entirely." He gingerly tiptoed through the white mass, occasionally lifting his black and white shoes to stare at the bottoms.

"This white stuff," said Ace, squatting down on her haunches. "Looks a lot like potassium nitrate."

"How'd it get here?" asked Callom.

Hand clamping the handkerchief, the Doctor pointed up at the ceiling. "Och, gross!" winced the Scot.

"Just be glad you're wearing a hat," quipped Ace.

All three dashed through the chamber, as fast as their legs would carry them. Fortunately, none were gifted with the raw potassium nitrate. "Am I glad to be out of there," sighed Ace. "That place pongs worse than Liverpool."

Callom once more stood in one place, eyes blinking shut. He stood quite still through the dark. The Doctor could discern the stretching of his psychic probes as he listened for Vitreum's thoughts. "So far so guid," he announced, after a few moments. "Right on track."

"I was thinking, Professor."

"What about…" asked the Doctor.

"Those two Tetraps on the surface. Why would they be out there, if they're bats, when the sun was coming up?" Ace wondered.

"Routine patrols. The Rani leaves nothing to chance."

"Does that mean she was expecting us?" Callom flinched.

"Not necessarily."

"But they could be reporting us to her right now, Professor," pointed out Ace. "we'd better shake a leg."

"Right. Come on, lad. Don't fail us now. Listen like you've never before."