Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ A Growing Madness ❯ Chapter 4

Doctor Who and its accoutrements are the property of the BBC, and we obviously don't have any right to them. Any and all crossover 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 4

 

Hurtling through the Vortex where Space and Time combined was an odd craft indeed. With its erratic steering, the vessel always ended up in the last place any of them expected. From the outside, it resembled a square blue 1950s Police Box. Yet its inner dimensions far exceeded its outward appearance.

Inside a sterile gleaming control room stood two Time Travelers. The first one bent over a six-sided console calmly flipping switches. He stared intently at the information screen before him. This traveler, with countless adventures behind him, was called the Doctor. In his most recent incarnation, this shorter version had age and experience on his side. "Seems there's a bit of flux in the xR-370 section of the Vortex," he muttered, straightening up. Across his sweater was knitted a pattern of question marks and zigzags.

"Does that mean trouble, Doctor?" asked Callom MacLaren, the other traveler in the room. He moved nervously toward the wall.

"Youngsters," thought the Doctor. "Always worrying about the littlest things." Chuckling to himself, the Doctor remembered how this lad always found his worst fears were completely unfounded.

Yet they both worried about the two female members of the TARDIS crew, one of whom was being checked on by Ace.
***

The geologist awakened to soft light and silence, except the distant humming of some powerful generator. Someone's shadow had handed her a squeeze bottle of water to wet her lips. Then she'd slipped under again.

Only to shake off sleep and sit boldly upright. Surprised that she was breathing, that the triple beat of her pulmonary system delivered blood to all parts of her body. Small hands rubbed at encrusted eyes, and everything was blurry.

Of course. The eyes were always a problem. She was allergic to chemicals capable of curing the deficiency. Hence the solution of glasses, a primitive yet effective sight correction. Fuzzy shadows and lights formed themselves into a watercolor rendering of a room. The brown square mass off in the distance must be a chair. A rounded blob right before her eyes was the tip of her nose. Something soft fell into her eyes. Feeling its stringy soft texture she realized it must be hair. But was her hair so long?

"Just how long was I asleep," she wondered without speaking.

But she shouldn't be here. Shouldn't she be at the base camp, at the foot of the mountain? At Mt. St. Helens in Washington state, on Earth. With the other geologists.

Geologists? Since when was she at Mt. St. Helens? Or at any volcano?

Again, she looked down at the hands. They felt too small. Somehow, the fingers were much shorter in proportion to the palms. She wondered if there had been some corrective surgery done. Seeing any sign of sutures was not usual, many civilizations could use lasers or skin grafting enzymes to promote healing.

She struggled out of the covers. The bed felt like a sleeping bag tossed over a form-fitting couch supporting back and knees. Hard floor rose up from underneath her and knocked the wind from her peripheral lungs. Hard cold floor that was glassy smooth. All around her fell long brown strands.

The woman took a length of the strands in her hand and stared at the tips. It was long enough to fall well below her shoulders. She looked down at hands pressed against the floor. Small hands. Looked down at large breasts and thighs curving beneath the loose garment sheathing her body. Small hands felt sloping shoulders and wide hips, soft living hair. Eyes looked at feet that were wide and short toed. Humanoid feet and fingers, four to each hand with an opposable thumb. Much like it should be. Fudge brown hair swept over her shoulders. Hair was something programmed for appearance's sake. Funny, because she could swear she had died. Yet, she could feel the solidness of the body, and the weight of the bones. Again she pushed against a floor and swayed to stand.

"I'm alive…" Dr. Mariner gasped, shaking her head. "I'm actually alive…"

Beneath her, the floor rocked from side to side, and only the wall could stop her from falling. "Here! You shouldn't be out of bed, girl!"

"What . . . "

Rolling along the wall, she faced the speaker. A figure with pink fleshy features atop black and multicolored blobs. Quickly it came into focus as it approached her. Inches away the blob became the face and shoulders of a young female human. Her eyes registered the human emotion of concern blended with pique.

"You only just came out of it . . . lie down . . . c'mon . . . "

Hands took her arms and guided her to the bed. The woman took faltering steps, tripping over her own small feet.

"I shouldn't be here . . . they need me at the camp . . . "

"What the 'ell are you babbling on about? You gave us all a nasty fright. Come on and lay down . . . "

"I don't know who you are, or where I am, but I need to get out of here and back to the base camp. There's going to be an eruption any day . . . "

"Take it easy…"

She let the girl sit her down. "Where am I?"

"In the TARDIS. Don't you remember? You almost bought it . . . "

"I don't get it. Who are you?"

"I'm Ace. You've had a nasty accident, and you're just recovering. You need to rest . . . or you'll never get over it."

"Rest… why? I haven't got time to rest. There's so much to do . . . "

"What are you talking about? Don't you remember anything?"

"What am I supposed to remember?"

Ace spun some story of a fantastic adventure. The woman didn't match any of it with her memory.

"That's not right," insisted the woman.

"The Doctor gave you an anti radiation drug. Whatever hit Fiona Vitreum copped you, and then you passed out…"

"Fiona Vitreum?" Raina asked slowly. "Who the hell is that?"

"Don't you remember anything?"

"This place… where are we?" Raina demanded, glancing around the room. "Some sort of lab.. or building…"

"We're in the TARDIS… traveling through time and space…"

"I've been abducted… no way," Raina muttered. "It's impossible…"

"Dr. MacLaren, you have got to remember! You and Callom were abducted by the Rani! To use as specimens in her latest experiment!"

Callom, Rani. The name exploded images out of the nothingness. At last she remembered before the pain. Or at least pieces began to fall into a coherent plot line.

"Callom! Is that kid okay? What happened to him?"

"He's fine. Now just take it easy . . . "

"Did the Rani get to him?" she demanded, eyes wide with horror. Ace felt the woman's small hand clamping on her upper arm with amazing strength.

"Here now, stop that!"

"I must know! I'm responsible for him! Fiona said so…"

Urgency shivered through the woman's arm and viselike grip. It was clear that the mention of Callom had temporarily jogged her memory. Best to take advantage of this new development, the teenager thought. "He . . . he's helping the Doctor now. He was really scared to death . . . but he's coming through well."

Ace raced to keep up with her. Down the maze of corridors she stumbled blindly after the geologist. Despite her hazy mind, this woman possessed incredible endurance. For what seemed like hours she explored the winding corridors of the TARDIS with a halting, yet measured pace. A pace she deliberately used to mark the distance traveled.

At last Ace caught up to the geologist. Dr. MacLaren stood inside a vast chamber filled with clothing racks. Hands groped at various garments as they held up shirts and cloaks.

"Where the hell are my clothes?" she asked Ace, pooling through the wardrobes.

"We had to destroy them, in case they were polluted. But if you want to, the Professor's got all sorts of stuff to chose from…"

"Good. I'll have to talk to this Professor about this abduction… and how he can take me home. I'm right in the middle of a geological survey," she muttered. Now she held a frilly shirt up to herself and looked. Shook her head. Turned to the other racks.

"Nothing to wear, eh, Yank?" Ace said. "Here… try this."

"All these clothes… so many different time periods. I could swear it's like being in a museum…"

"C'mon… we'll find you something, Yank," Ace promised, and led her over to another wardrobe.

"Any bras maybe?" she asked hopefully. "I had a backpack with me…"

"Trust me to forget," Ace laughed. "Here… he left it in your room. C'mon I'll take you back there and you can get dressed."

Hand to her forehead, she sank toward the floor. Ace ran to catch her as she crumpled, but was knocked off balance by the woman's greater body weight. So she guided her to a prone position.

Dark eyes fluttered open after a half-minute. Squinted up at Ace. Then the seventies geologist from UCLA Berkely sat bold upright. "I passed out, right?"

"Got that right. Are you okay?"

"Now I am…" she groaned. "Damn, hell of a place to get a migraine…"

"C'mon let's get you back to your room," Ace said, helping Raina with an arm around her shoulders.

***


Suddenly, a jolt shook the TARDIS. "What was that?" gasped Callom, steadying himself by clinging to the Louis XIV chair.

"Simply a bit of time turbulence, my lad," reassured the Doctor. "Nothing to worry yourself about."

A teen-aged girl wearing a denim skirt over black leggings and a Sonic Youth T-shirt emerged from the corridors. "Ah, Ace. How's our patient faring?"

"She was pretty flaky for a while, Doctor, but she's acting pretty normal now."

"So she's up and about, I can safely assume."

"You wouldn't think she was laying stiff on her back a few hours ago . . . " began Ace, but stopped when the Doctor threw her a sharp glance.

"Sorry, kid," she apologized. "I was forgetting you were up here."

Callom shrugged and pulled down his sweater over his waist again. The son of a twentieth century Scottish laird, Callom wore the traditional tartan of his clan MacLaren. Only recently had he come to travel with the Doctor and Ace. Bravely the fair haired young Scot smiled at the Doctor. "It's okay. Jest as long as she's all right, nothing bothers me for long."

"Where are we headed Professor?" Ace asked him, trying to change the subject.

"A little vacation planet I learned about the last time I was at Maruthia . . . "

"The last time you and I were there, there was that big bust up. At Bonjaxx's," snorted Ace. "I wasn't sure we'd get outta there with our skins on."

"I was assured that this planet . . . well was a prime spot. And what our patient needs now is a neutral environment."

"Somewhere neutral? She should have gone to Perivale."

"Where's Perivale?" asked Callom.

"Ace's hometown," said the Doctor. "According to Ace, it's right in the middle of nowhere."

"Jest make certain it's a peaceful place enau . . . "

"I'll try, Callom. I used to have a Zero Room on the TARDIS. Normally that's the perfect neutral environment for a regenerated Time Lord. But I had to jettison it for thrust a long time ago."

"That the same time you jettisoned the pool, Doctor?"

"Ace, I already told you I have no control over what piece of the TARDIS is detached when I do that . . . "

Another shock sent them all grabbing for the nearest object. The resulting shudder threw Callom into the chair, and sent Ace flying into the far wall. Naturally the Doctor gripped the TARDIS console. "Feels like something jest fell off yuir TARDIS nau . . . "

"That's impossible . . . Callom . . . "

Again the room vibrated. Through the door stumbled a stocky, dark-haired woman clutching the doorframe for support. A red vest with multiple pockets hung from her broad shoulders. "I know this isn't an active fault zone, Doctor, " she said conversationally. "But you didn't tell me you'd need a seismograph . . . "

"Dr. MacLaren!" laughed Callom, running to her. "I'm so glad yuir awake again!" Momentarily, he hesitated flinging his arms around her. From past experience, he feared she'd reprimand him for making a scene.

"Uh… hi…" Raina said, surprised at getting a firm hug around her waist. "Nice to see you're okay too, kid."

Delighted, he wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her hard in a choke hold that would have strangled an ordinary human "Nau everything's gonna be okay!"

"I certainly hope so," she laughed, holding him apart from her. "But ease up on the bear hug before you crush a few ribs…"

"Wonderful to see you up and about . . . " smiled the Doctor, walking over to them. "You had me worried Dr. MacLaren."

"What's wrong, Doctor? Why did I get sick and lose my memory! Ace told me that I had radiation poisoning…"

Scratching his head, the Doctor looked sheepish. "To tell you the truth… yes. But the effects seem to have worn off due to the anti radiation drug."

Ace was glad they'd found something for the geologist to wear. Certainly she dressed differently than before, with her green coveralls and puffy sleeved blouse. That red vest looked just like the sort a hiker or a fisherman would wear, with its dozens of pockets of assorted sizes. All that was familiar was the segmented headband fastened around the crown of her scalp, keeping her fudge brown shoulder-length hair out of her face.

"Another modern convenience in this space ship, right?" she laughed. A nice hearty laugh, thought the Doctor. Still she kept an arm around Callom. As fellow prisoners, she had taken charge of him, and he had been drawn to her as a source of strength when they were in the Rani's clutches. Momentarily, the lights in the TARDIS went off.

"Professor!" Ace snapped. "What in blue blazes happened to the lights?"

There was a thump and a grunt. "How should I know?"

"Well don't you have a power gauge or something?"

"I did, but the readout light is on the blink . . . "

All was plunged into darkness, save some lights flickering on the TARDIS console. Raina moved away from Callom. "What's going on?" he whispered to her.

"Wait there a moment, kid."

She groped her way to the console panel, where one light had caught her eye. "Hey Doctor," she said. "This warning message on the visual scanner panel. I think there's something outside you should see . . . "

"What?"

"The scanner's detecting a strange cloud of particles congealing on the TARDIS's exterior!"

Quickly the Doctor switched on the screen. As a panel in the roundelled wall slid down, all four stared in amazement at a shimmering cloud flickering against the background of stars. "Hyperbolic," muttered Ace, standing transfixed.

"How did we dematerialize out in space without me knowing?" demanded the Doctor. "Better not be the High Council asking me to do their dirty work for them again!"

"I didn't hear the remote control mechanism," said Ace.

"But the coordinates read outer space," puzzled the Doctor. The shimmering lights cast a flickering multicolored display, playing off the walls and faces of the crew. "Callom! Get on the Fault Locator," shouted the Doctor through a high-pitched wailing that had started. Just as the youth stumbled his way to the bank of computers, the lights blinked back on.

"Och! Nae need for that nau," muttered the boy irritably.

Sparkling vapor penetrated the walls and seeped into the room. Raina leapt back in surprise. Ace and Callom scattered, alarmed.

"How'd it get in here?" Raina wondered, finger pushing her glasses further along the bridge of her upturned nose.

"Most interesting," observed the Doctor. "The momentary blackout temporarily let down the force-field, deshielding the TARDIS's temporal stability..."

"I don't care how the flamin' thing got in here!" yelled Ace. "What the 'eck is it?"

"Doctor! It's headed toward the console!"

"Eh, Callom?" grunted the Doctor, intently studying a panel on the console. Shimmering, it hovered closer to the six-sided console, and the oblivious Doctor. Bewildered, he glanced up as all the shimmering particles in the cloud's heart pressed together, and leapt directly into the power core. There was a flash, and a bang. The Doctor was thrown back. Ace rushed to help the Doctor to his feet. A third jolt flung her toward where Callom stood. Dizzily, the TARDIS whirled about like a crazy merry-go-round. Its passengers pressed close to the walls form the intense centrifugal force. Whining pulsed to a drone, beating the air about them. "Ace! This is a real thrill!" exclaimed the young twentieth century teenager.

"This . . . isn't supposed . . . to be . . . happening!" grunted the Doctor, pressed flat to the roundelled wall. He struggled to pull free by pressing the flats of his palms against the sides of the chamber.

"No joke, Dick Tracy!" shouted Raina, over the rising roar of the rotation. "I feel like a slab of wall paper! Get us away from here."

The droning vibrated the spinning chamber, growing steadily in volume and intensity. It drilled into Callom and Ace's brains. "What's . . . happening?" moaned Callom, sick from the motion.

"Disruption. Of the temporal . . . continuum!" gasped the Doctor. "Something's causing ripples . . . in our path!" At last he managed to break free of the wall. Moving painfully in slow motion, he approached the console. He stretched out his arms, fingers only inches from the console. Pressure forced in from all sides to halt his progress.

"It cannae be that Time Wind again, can it?" groaned Callom.

"No! We would have been fizzled away by now!" shouted Raina. "It's something else!"

"Don't think I like this anymore," mumbled Ace feebly. Head tipped to the side, she could barely stay awake. The pressure and droning bombarded her skull relentlessly. Beside her, young Callom moaned. Both slipped in and out of consciousness. Pinned to the wall, neither he nor Ace could have the sweet relief of a horizontal faint. The incessant droning filled their minds, suspending them between blackout and alertness.

The Doctor strained intense mental vibrations to disrupt the time storm. HE swept out with her thoughts, focusing his mind on the one particular lever that would end the misery. Gritting against the droning pulsation dominating his mind, he pried himself loose from the wall. Somehow he fought against the force, driving it back with his mind. Reached out his arm, throwing himself forwards to grab the levers. Just a few millimeters took enormous strength.

Relief resounded in the wheezing groan of dematerialization. Emergency materialization jarred the TARDIS, flinging the passengers to the flight deck. All lapsed into blissful nothingness. A sound, like a dozen elephants trumpeting, reverberated the corridors of a space ship. The oblong, blue shape of a London Police Box blinked in and out of existence battling to become solid.

***
Screams echoed in the corridors of the Cerise, an Aries class survey ship. Frantically young Lieutenant Dumas raced away from a maddened band of people bent on only one thing: his death! A tear of exhaustion slid down his face as he stopped gasping before a silver grille. The sterile white corridors offered temporary refuge, yet would soon betray his whereabouts. At intervals in the tunnels lay the sleeping forms of many crewmembers. Those who had escaped sleep had become paranoid.

"Commander Morgan! They--they're after me!"

On the multi windowed command deck sat a weary control officer. Her ruffled hair frizzed in a cloud about her drooping head as she grimly listened to the crewmember. Stars slid behind the glass, reflecting across her red rimmed eyes. "Take the secret access tunnel to the command deck." Before she could finish, the commander heard a blood-chilling scream. Sadly she closed her heavy eyelids. Veins bulged under the pale skin covering her hands as she depressed the recording button.

THIS is the Commander. I fear this will be my last entry. The madness has affected nearly thirty members of my crew . . . ten are dead . . . Untold others have slumped into a feverish sleep. They can't wake! I'm not sure which is worse, facing the mad crowd or falling prey to a nightmarish sleep. All around me is madness . . .

She continued till her weary head nodded from exhaustion. Glancing at her empty stimulant bottle, she started in fear. No more of the drugs existed to whisk her from the brink of madness. Footsteps mingled with ever louder angry shouts, closer, closer. A dozen fists pounded the steel door behind her. "This, is the end. I take my last stand. One sip away from insanity."

A bottle shattered on the floor, sending a thousand glittering shards of glass to scatter. They mirrored the stars' intensity, and the gleaming madness in the crew's glassy eyes.