Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ Dr Who – Martha and Ten The Inbetweens and Backstories ❯ Chapter Fourteen ( Chapter 14 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

A visit to Kenya as mentioned in The Pirate Loop BY SIMON GUERRIER, and a derelict space ship from Wooden Heart BY MARTIN DAY. The Doctor is reminded of another derelict he visited before.

Non Anime: Doctor Who Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 03.14.2016 | Pages: 21 | Words: 7.4K | Visits: 312 | Status: Completed

Martha smiled to herself as she placed her I-Spyder Arachnid First Class certificate on the fridge with a Statue of Liberty novelty magnet. She had registered her score on the electronic book, and her certificate had been sent back electronically, where it appeared from the molecular transfer slot in the TARDIS console.

This is to certify that

MARTHA JONES

has obtained the rank of

ARACHNID FIRST CLASS

with an I-Spyder points total of

9,000,001

signed

Big Chief I Spyder

Certificate no. 00000001

There were two final additions that had boosted her score just enough to qualify for a certificate.

THE I-SPYDER BOOK OF EARTH CREATURES

TIME LORD

Dominus temporis

Location: worldwide

The Time Lord is a rare bipedal, bicardial mammal. It frequently mingles with herds of Homo sapiens, but can be distinguished from them by its unique physiology and distinctive fearless behaviour. It is between approximately 1.5 and 2 metres in height, and can have white, black, brown or blond hair. It is most commonly found in Europe, especially the United Kingdom.

Addendum:

It has been suggested that the Time Lord is of non-terrestrial origin. However, sightings spanning several millennia indicate that, even if it did not originate on Earth, it should now be classified as an immigrant species.

I-Spyder points value: 8963400

THE I-SPYDER BOOK OF EARTH CREATURES

HUMAN

Homo sapiens

Location: Europe, Asia, Africa, North America, South America, Australia

The human is a bipedal mammal that walks upright. It is mainly hairless with only a few patches of hair, the main one being on its head. Its smooth skin ranges from a pale pinky-white to a deep black. The male human is on average taller and heavier than the female. It is the only species on Earth to voluntarily clothe itself. As of publication, the human is still abundant on Earth.

I-Spyder points value: 2

This made her final submission:

THE I-SPYDER BOOK OF EARTH CREATURES

Creature Points

Dodo 800

Megatherium 500

Paradise parrot 500

Velociraptor 250

Mountain gorilla 500

Aye-aye 900

Siberian tiger 600

Kakapo 900

Indefatigable Galapagos mouse 1500

Stegosaurus 500

Triceratops 550

Diplodocus 600

Ankylosaurus 650

Dimetrodon 600

Passenger pigeon 100

Thylacine 250

Black rhinoceros 300

Mervin the missing link 23500

Tau duck 5

Dong tao chicken 4

Red-eared slider 40

Chinese three-striped box turtle 350

Forest dragonfly 150

Phorusrhacos 450

Steller's sea cow 1000

Sabre-toothed tiger 500

Megalosaurus 600

Time Lord 8963400

Human 2

Subtotal 9000001

She sipped her cup of tea and remembered the look on the Doctor's face as she received the laminated award with childlike pleasure. It was a sort of memento of their adventure, and a tribute to Dorothea the Dodo.

`Y'know, I've been thinking about zoos and safari parks,' the Doctor said from the door behind her, making her jump and nearly spill her tea. `Who needs them when you can have the real thing?'

`You what?' she said, a puzzled frown on her face.

`Safari . . . why have a park when you can have the real thing?'

`What, you mean go on a safari?'

`Well, if you don't fancy it, we could always . . .'

`Not another word,' she said, downing her tea. `You do the driving; I'm off to the wardrobe.'

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`The Meru National Park, 500 square miles of lush grassland and swamps,' the Doctor said as he stepped out of the TARDIS behind Martha.

He was wearing his usual brown suit, whilst Martha wore khaki shorts and vest top, hiking boots and a wide brimmed hat.

`Oh this is brilliant,' Martha announced as she looked out over the landscape. There were herds of zebra and wildebeest grazing in the near distance. The Doctor grinned at her enjoyment and held out his arm for her to take, and they started to stroll through the grassland.

A variety of animals occasionally lifted their heads and looked at them, assessing the threat level and trying to decide whether they needed to interrupt their lunch and run, or carry on grazing.

`We are safe here aren't we? I mean, don't they have lions and hyenas roaming these national parks?'

`Well yeah, there are predators about; but why would they bother with us when there are all those enormous meals on legs over there.' He nodded to their left where the herds were grazing.

Martha was looking to their left, where a stand of oddly shaped Acacia trees were offering an oasis of shade from the unrelenting African sun. In the shade of the trees, she was certain she'd seen some straw coloured blobs move slightly; with the shimmering heat haze it was difficult to tell at this distance.

No, wait. Was that the flick of a tail, swatting at flies? There was a deep meowing sound, like a cat on steroids followed by two feline hind legs in the air as a lioness scratched her back in the dust on the ground.

'Doctor, I don't want to worry you, but isn't that a pride of lions over there?'

`Eh?' He followed the direction of her wide eyed gaze. `Ah well, three adolescent lions don't make a pride. They're probably brothers and sister.'

The lions lazily stood up and started to saunter towards them. `Did you know that their hunting reflex is triggered by running animals?' the Doctor informed her.

`So what do we do, just stand here?'

`Er, no. Did you also know that they'll feed on bodies that they just happen upon?'

`So we can't run and we can't stand still, what can we do?'

`We can stare them down,' he said with a confident smile. `Just remember, they're more scared of us than we are of them.'

There was a bubbly laugh from behind them. `I very much doubt that,' a cultured woman's voice said from behind them. `You could try scratching them behind their ears though, they love that.'

The Doctor and Martha turned to see a tall, thin woman dressed in khaki, regarding them with a lopsided smile. A few yards behind the TARDIS was a dusty, open topped Land Rover. The three lions trotted towards them, the largest male emitting a throaty growl.

`Now, now Jespah, stop showing off and frightening the tourists,' the woman said as the lions rubbed their heads against her thighs, greeting her like a trio of domestic tabbys.

`Jespah? Jespah, where have I heard that name before?' the Doctor said as he scratched his head.

Martha held out her hand. `I'm Martha, and this is the Doctor. Thank you for taming the savage beasts.'

The woman shook her hand. `Oh they're hardly savage, more like big pussy cats really. I'm J . . .'

`Joy Adamson!' the Doctor exclaimed. `I thought I recognised the name Jespah. Jespah, Gopa and Little Elsa. Your work with Elsa proved that orphaned animals could be introduced back into the wild. It was brilliant.'

Martha was starting to catch on. 'Hang on, Joy Adamson, Elsa. That was that film "Born Free" we used to watch as kids on a bank holiday Monday.'

The Doctor was making cutting actions across his throat with his fingers. 'That film isn't released for another three years yet,' he whispered to her before turning to Adamson. 'She means the documentary you did with Attenborough. Very informative . . . they should make a film out of your book. It would be brilliant. Families could sit around the telly on a rainy bank holiday and watch it together . . . isn't that what you meant Martha?'

'Oh yeah, that's right,' she said sheepishly.

'I say, what a good idea. The royalties would certainly help to fund our work,' Adamson beamed at them. 'You must come and have a cup of tea and tell me your ideas.'

'Will there be scones?' the Doctor asked with a cheeky smile, whilst Martha rolled her eyes.

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Martha liked the occasional moments without the Doctor - the momentary pauses for breath, when she had time to take it all in, to dwell on the things she had seen, the adventures she had already had. Paths already taken.

Normal life never seemed so dull and one-dimensional

as in these brief moments of reflection. Then again, she didn't like having too much time to think - sometimes

it was scary. These events that played out before her threatened, on occasion, to wash her away entirely.

Sometimes she just wanted to watch a beautiful sunset on an alien world, or meet someone famous from history, without battalions of blood-sucking monsters and megalomaniacal villains hoving into view.

It was probably just as well, then, that at that moment she noticed the familiar and reassuring form of the Doctor, leaning against one of the walls, his face partly hidden by shadows, staring intently at the small scanner screen some feet away. He was chewing absentmindedly on one of the arms of his glasses, seemingly lost in thought himself.

Martha circled around towards him and he looked up. `It's just drifting through space,' he said, indicating the screen with his spectacles. `It's easy to think that the cosmos is full of planets and stars and stuff, when actually . . . So much of it is empty. Bit of stray gas maybe, echoes of dark matter and plasma, but otherwise . . . Nothing.'

She came round and looked at the screen. It showed, as the Doctor said, a remarkably dark area of deep space. The velvety blackness was smudged by only a handful of distant stars. Against this there drifted the silent form of a slowly spinning craft. Orientated vertically, it resembled a great smooth tube of silver that thickened into some sort of blackened propulsion system at its base. At the top the tubular shape sprouted various spokes and protrusions.

`What's the ship?' asked Martha.

`It's . . . interesting,' said the Doctor, as if that explained everything. `A Century-class research vessel. The Castor, if the faint mayday signals it's giving off are to be believed. Not built for speed, as you can see - once it reached its destination it would hang around in orbit like a space station. Jack-of-all-trades sort of vessel.'

`What happened to it?'

`Dunno,' said the Doctor. `No life signs, but no signs of collision or other damage either. I can't tell at the moment how long it's been here. Days, years, decades . . .' Suddenly his hands moved over the TARDIS controls in a blur. He spoke more quickly, a growing excitement evident in his voice. `There's an atmosphere, though, and gravity - now that's odd in itself. And there's a few other little things as well . . .'

`Enough to pique your interest?'

`Oh yes!' he exclaimed, grinning. `My interest is well and truly piqued. It's reached a critical level of piqued-ness. If it were any more piqued, I'd . . .' He slammed a few more controls home and very nearly pirouetted on the spot. `I think I'd run out of pique and need a little lie-down!'

The great engines at the heart of the TARDIS began to wheeze and shudder.

'Are we going to take a look?' asked Martha, wondering if the Doctor could pick up the uncertainty in her voice. Exploring a rusting old space station stuffed with dead bodies - or worse - didn't exactly sound like a barrel of laughs. `What am I saying?' she realised, seeing the Doctor's expression. `Of course we're going to take a look.'

`So, why the Castor?' asked Martha some moments later, when the Time Rotor had ceased its grinding, and they stepped through the TARDIS doors into darkness.

`Good question,' said the Doctor. He busied himself at a small panel on the wall, illuminated only by the piercing blue glow of his sonic screwdriver, then stepped backed triumphantly as the lights flickered on.

`They're not very bright,' said Martha. The lights that had come on were glowing dully, leaving pockets of shadow at regular intervals.

`Night cycle,' said the Doctor. He looked down the long, gently arcing corridor they found themselves in. `I imagine whoever named this craft had a love of the classics.'

`Castor, as in Castor and Pollux - the sons of Leda,' said Martha, trying to elevate the conversation somewhat - and, if truth be told, wondering if she could impress the Doctor with her learning.

`That's right,' said the Doctor, peering at another panel recessed into the wall. `Probably why on the colony world of Aractus they still say never turn your back on a swan.'

The Doctor slipped on his glasses while peering at the panel's small read-out screen. `It's obviously had just enough sunlight to keep it ticking over. To be fair, it hasn't had to expend much energy recently - a smidge on life support, a soupcon on a few other essential systems . . . The engines haven't been used in years, so it's just kind of drifted.'

`Is that what drew you here?' asked Martha. The mystery of it all - a Mary Celeste that drifts in the spaces between the stars . . .'

“Or a Madame de Pompadour”, the Doctor thought as he took a step back, suddenly serious. `It reminds me of another ship, a craft with a link to a person from the history of your planet . . .' He trailed away, his eyes intense, as if he could stare through the metal hull of the craft and see the stars and nebulae beyond.

Martha recognised that look. He was thinking about Rose again. And she was right - partly. He was thinking about how Reinette had inadvertently awakened his emotions when he had looked into her mind. How upset Rose had been at his infatuation with Madame de Pompadour. It was after that incident that he realised he'd fallen in love with Rose.

`The Pollux?' suggested Martha hopefully, dragging him from his memories into the present.

`Never mind the Pollux,' said the Doctor abruptly, replacing what was left of the panel's outer covering. `It's this vessel that fascinates me now. What happened here?'

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Martha and the Doctor were back with the extra-dimensional creature on the Castor, and the TARDIS could only be a few corridors away. The creature had created a virtual world, existing within a pocket universe inside and outside the Castor.

Like a three dimensional computer game, there was a medieval village, lake, forest and mountains in the distance, all populated by ordinary people living ordinary lives; a sort of medieval version of “The Matrix”.

The Doctor walked over to the prisoner, the god of the unreal world, and patted its flank. It had been captured by scientists and used to try and make evil human criminals good by removing their evil thoughts and intentions.

`Thank you,' he said simply. And then, after a pause, `You really are amazing!' He turned to Martha. `You're not so bad yourself, you know. If you hadn't gone back and tried to rescue Saul . . .'

Martha had forsaken the safety of the Castor to go back into the virtual forest to help a hunter that had befriended them and helped them when they first stepped into the virtual world.

The Doctor's eyes were distant, as if he - uniquely - could see through the walls of the Castor. Perhaps, just for a moment, he saw a dark forest and an island at the heart of a mysterious lake - and a village of flags and bridges, celebrating the return of its children.

`How did you rescue Saul from the monster?' he asked suddenly, the monster being a guardian that kept the inhabitants from straying outside of the simulation.

`Ah,' said Martha modestly. `I did have a little help.' She had risked her life to distract the monster, when Saul's brother Petr ran out of the forest and struck the spider-like monster with his sword.

`Well, you can tell me later,' said the Doctor. `I love a good story - heroes and monsters, that sort of thing.' He turned back to the creature.

`Like I said - give me a minute and we'll get you somewhere warm,' he said. When he could get the Castor into a star system, the solar arrays would give the creature the power it needed to sustain the virtual world and its inhabitants.

`And then you can drift again, far away from humans and all the evil things they do.' He glanced at Martha. `Present company excepted, of course.'

`Then back to the TARDIS?' said Martha.

The Doctor nodded. `Yes. Back to the TARDIS.' He turned to the doorway. `I can access the Castor's navigation systems from just down here . . .' Martha followed him out of the angular chamber. Their feet rang out on the metal walkway as they strolled away.

`I don't quite understand why the ship's scanners didn't pick up that creature,' said Martha as they walked. `It made a stab at tracking that shadow thing,' referring to the concentrated evil of hundreds of prisoners made carnate by the creatures subconscious.

`Well,' said the Doctor, `that big splurge of data . . . Maybe it wasn't just the bubble world it was detecting - but the creature as well. It's a very fine line, between creator and creation.'

`And what will happen if the Castor drifts into darkness again?' queried Martha.

The Doctor smiled. `Let's hope I do as good a job next time,' said the Doctor. `Let's hope I have someone with me as . . . brave as you were.'

`What do you mean, “next time”?' Martha asked, accepting his compliment without comment.

“Legend has it that each Dazai must retreat from the village, and battle with their own monsters, before they can be considered truly worthy of the title”, the village elder had told the Doctor. `Oh, just something the Dazai said. She sort of implied that this had happened before. That the biggest lessons in life we need to learn again and again.'

`And what lesson do we learn from all this? Not to go exploring when you find yourself in a forest in deep space?'

`Oh, yeah, that,' said the Doctor with a grin. `And . . .' He risked a final glance over his shoulder. `To be capable of love, nine times out of ten . . . someone needs to love us first.'

“I'm capable of loving you” Martha thought to herself, “so why can't you love me?” But even as she thought it, she knew the answer. It was time to change that line of thougt.

'So was this ship like the other ship you mentioned?' Martha asked as they walked down the corridor towards the TARDIS.

'Nah, not really,' the Doctor said with his hands in his pockets. 'That one didn't have a Narnia-like forest in the middle of it.'

'No, I should think that was pretty unique.'

'Although . . . it did have a very nice 18th century, French fireplace that led to the Palace of Versailles.' He put the key in the door and turned it. Martha looked at him as though he was telling one of his tall tales again. 'And clockwork robots that chopped up the crew to use them as spare parts . . .'

He pushed the door open and they stepped inside.