Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ Geological Conundrum ❯ Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Doctor Who is owned by BBC international, as are the characters of UNIT. The character Dr. Weismann, Dr. Padyesh, and Dr. Alvarez Moore as well as other minor characters not in Dr. Who are my own creations, and mean no harm to the show. This story is fan fiction!

The Geological Conundrum

Part II Missing a Week

By Trynia Merin

 

The reporter clung to the seat of a UNIT land rover as it zoomed down a British motorway. Several cars flashed past them. A grumbling zoom and a big bulky auto roared by, speeding well near 80 mph. "Stupid blighter," she muttered in disgust, smelling the exhaust. The foggy English skies gave way to a light drizzle, the tiny droplets brushing damply against her cheeks.

UNIT headquarters stood several miles into London. Inside bustled staff and soldiers, each going about their individual duties inside and outside the complex. Different departments comprised UNIT; everything from military to intelligence information passed through the organization. It was initially formed to protect the interests of the United Nations in Great Britain.

In one important office sat the man in charge of the Great Britain branch of UNIT. He was Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stuart, a tall strongly built man dressed in a beige uniform. This mustached fellow had years of experience behind him, and most of it consisted of unusual circumstances. Now, he was dealing with UNIT's latest task; the strange energy readings emanating from Cheddar Gorge in Avon. For the last few days a division of UNIT soldiers sealed off the area and reassured frightened tourists and residents, but had so far found nothing more promising than an unofficial blast test sight located near the park.

The phone rang, interrupting the Brigadier's last thought. Picking up the receiver he spoke, "Lethbridge-Stuart here... report from Trap 2? Sergeant Benton. Yes, send him in here now." He replaced the phone, and took a swig of hot tea from a ceramic UNIT mug.

Benton entered, dressed in his green field uniform, topped of with his usual beret and field rifle slung over one shoulder. Respectively he saluted the Brigadier. "Benton reporting here sir."

The Brigadier stood up. "Have your men discovered anything that could explain?"

"Detected some more of those strange wave readings, and other scientific mumbo-jumbo the boffins can't make out. And something else.”

“Being…”

“The Doctor's friend turned up… rather unexpectedly.”

“You mean Miss Smith? I had wondered if she'd continue poking her nose into things. I'll have to chat to the Doctor about handling his assistant…” sighed the Brigadier.

“She claimed she was part of a tour group, sir. But that's strange because the area was cordoned off a week ago,” Benton said.

“Is she been examined for amnesia?” the Brigadier asked.

“No, she asked to see the Doctor. I figured Corporal Bell could get her sorted out while I reported to you. Perhaps the Doc. can explain why she's here…”

“I'd like to speak to her myself first,” said the Brigadier. “Find out what the deuce she's thinking she's doing walking around a UNIT investigation without a proper pass.”

“She claims she'd lost it sir,” said Benton sheepishly.

“Send her in. She can't be allowed to simply come and go as she pleases.”

“Sir, wouldn't it be best to let the Doctor sort her out. I'd rather it be out of our hands. Perhaps he'll set her straight. Though I don't relish the task he'll have of it,” Sergeant Benton said with some amusement.

“Thank you Sergeant that will be all. Send her in now. Might as well let her know the score,” the Brigadier said with an annoyed but amused sigh.

“Right sir,” Benton saluted.

“And if I find it IS the same Miss Smith that claimed she was the Doctor's assistant during the Dinosaur business, see to it that she has an access pass the next time she blunders into this sort of thing without telling us she's working with the Doctor,” said the Brigadier. “Can't be too careful.”

“Right sir,” Benton saluted.

Sarah Jane Smith was hastened down a long hallway, when a string of news correspondents with tape recorders and cameras crowds about her. She proved an interesting target, when they note her spelunking gear.

A door opened, admitting the Brigadier to the hall. Catching sight of the reporters, he angrily ordered them escorted out. “Miss Smith… I must say this is quite a surprise.”

"Brigadier, thank heaven," she answered.

"Step inside the office, please," he instructed, opening the door and ushering her inside. Sergeant Benton pulled up a chair for her to sit on. At last Benton slammed the door shut, banishing the cacophony outside.

Once they had both sat down the Brigadier confronted her. "All right Miss Smith, tell me just WHAT you're doing mucking around a UNIT investigation. The public was well informed about the strange happenings at Cheddar Gorge site to keep well away."

“I'm very sorry Brigadier,” she apologized. “But you see I was part of a student group doing an article on public awareness of science. I had a nasty knock on the head, but something ELSE strange has been going on! You've got to believe me…”

“I see, you've once again managed to end up in the middle of yet another of our matters. Does the Doctor know you're up to this?” asked the Brigadier.

“Actually he has no idea. I come and go as I please. Look, if you let me speak to the Doctor I'm sure he'll vouch for me. Especially after what I have to tell him. There's something QUITE odd going on in those caves! Last time I fell asleep the date was…”

She pointed to the calendar on the wall. “You see… it's been a WEEK! I can't have been knocked out for a week… your physician himself sorted that bit out!”

“Maybe so, Miss Smith,” said the Brigadier patiently. “I'll let you see the Doctor now. But bear in mind you'd best keep out of his way unless you ARE planning on doing what you're told.”

“I am most sorry about this, Brigadier, but it was a good reason. I wouldn't just make up a load of rubbish if it weren't founded,” Sarah reassured him.

"I see, Miss Smith. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Provided you share all you know after you speak to the Doctor," said the Brigadier, with a flare of recognition in his thoughts. "But you do know you have no positive identification as to your business in the caves. Luckily you helped us a bit during the Dinosaur affair. If not for that you'd be under arrest right now.”

"Yes… quite," Sarah blushed.

“Now I see you might like to freshen up. If you'll go with Private Phillips here, she'll see to it.”

“Thank you Brigadier,” Sarah said gratefully. Relieved she followed the neatly uniformed female private out the door. Before they reach the junction hallway the Brigadier called after them, “No more `going out to play' without us knowing, eh?”

“Er… right,” she said.

Benton ushered in a middle aged woman with curly black hair. Her olive complexion was well complimented with the red blouse she wore and a paisley scarf secured about her neck with a fancy brooch. She brushed off her herringbone jacket and smoothed her matching skirt under her as she sat down. "Ah, so you are Brigadier Lethbridge-Stuart?" she asked in a voice rather English for her Mediterranean appearance.

"Dr. Maria Alvarez I presume. Good to see you... there's been the strangest goings on in those Cheddar Gorge caves."

The Brigadier conducted Doctor Moore to a block of scientific labs in UNIT's west wing. Most of the rooms were originally rooms of an ancient manor house, now converted to cubbyholes with the latest technology. This seismologist had just been assigned such an office cubicle with a small cot and simple desk. As they walked further down the halls, the doors become less and less frequent. "We hope you find the accommodations suited well to your work," said the Brigadier.

"Oh, I have no complaints now, but I would have preferred to room next to Padyesh... he's so much more polite then that physicist chap..."

"Weismann?" offered the Brigadier.

Just then, a thin fellow pushed past the Brigadier with a hurried, "Pardon me!" Finally they arrive at their destination, the last door on the left. Before entering the Brigadier knocked. There was no answer, so he entered, beckoning to Moore to follow him into the huge lab. All manner of objects decked the whitewashed brick walls, including wooden cases of butterflies, world maps, and space pictures. A large roll top desk laden with scientific journals sat against the back wall past two or three lab benches laden with equipment.

"Balderdash! This is simply preposterous!" bellowed a voice from the hall. "I will not have my research shot down by an overdress crackpot like you!"

"Overdressed crackpot indeed," retorted an equally incensed voice. "It's a wonder why a scientist who makes a frightful mess of his calculations is even allowed to work here, let alone hold a graduate post!"

"Of all the disrespectful, pompous..."

"My dear Professor," patronizes the second voice. "Men of science are very truthful unless one considers those who alter their data simply to gain undue credit for a hypothesis he is reluctant to admit is incorrect!"

"You are accusing me of being a liar, me a professor at Cambridge?"

The argument ensued for several minutes, in the hallway. Quite forgotten, Moore shook her head. The Brigadier too listened to the conversation, a bit amused. How annoying when they couldn't see who was talking or what was going on. Her mind told her that two very prominent scientists are the very voices arguing. "How typical," she smiled, leafing through one of the journals. Her eyes landed upon a tall blue box nestled in one far corner, with the notable words, "POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX" written at the top. She touched the doors, and then suddenly pulled her hand away. A faint pulsing vibrated the side, as if some energy source were inside.

Two figures burst into the lab. A white-haired man wearing a black cloak stormed in; a white coated researcher at his heels. Whirling about, he faced his pursuer, the red silk lining of his cloak flashing. "I've said all I shall say to you, Professor. Now if you will excuse me, I have some pertinent experiments of my own to attend to. Most interesting discussion with you, but sadly rather hopeless."

The other scientist's face flushed red as a ripe beet as he gulped down his rage. "Well pardon me," he retorted, voice chilled with sarcasm. "Go on ahead and play with those expensive gadgets of yours. Who knows how much of UNIT's funds you deplete each day?" Eyes flashed behind his small half-moon spectacles.

Discreetly Dr. Moore coughed, and the two men turned to face her. "Quite a debate I see," she commented, hiding a smug smile. "Oh, how rude of me," said the tall white haired fellow. "We have a visitor Brigadier?"

"This is Dr. Moore, from Oxford. She knows a bit about seismology."

"Here to join your cheerful little unit family," she added, shaking his large white hand.

"Delighted to have you Ma'am. It will be nice to have a bit of stability here... a little change in perspective for once," he commented, glancing at Weismann.

"Professor Weismann, of Cambridge?" asked Moore, her hand extended towards the white coated man.

The German scientist glared at the Doctor, then turned to Dr. Moore. "Enscuhldigung mir bitte, Frau Moore, as we say in my country," he apologized. "You must excuse the conduct of ruffians here... at times we can be rather testy."

"Speaking of testy times, what has been discovered about the mysterious disturbances so far," asked Moore.

"The Doctor... our Scientific Advisor has been working on this problem for a considerable amount of time..." began the Brigadier helpfully. Just then the phone rang. The Doctor rose to answer it.

"Hello yes?" he greeted, tentatively eyeing the long spiral phone flex. Glancing gingerly at the Brigadier he asked, "Certain you had this fixed?"

"Yes Doctor."

"What's wrong?" needled Weismann.

"Sssh!" hissed the Doctor. He listened for a moment. "Yes, he's here. I'll put him on straightaway."

Taking the Phone, the Brigadier listened to an excited Sgt. Benton. "Yes, I'll call a meeting of our top boys in ten minutes..."

"So what have you discovered so far, Doctor?" asked Dr. Moore, crossing her arms across her red blouse.

"To make a long story short, I admit that I am baffled," announced the Doctor, striding over to one of his benches. "What do you make of these readings, Dr. Moore?" he asked, passing her a set of printouts. "They were made on a conventional seismograph."

"Can't say really," she mused, biting her lower lip and squinting at the readings. "Afraid this is even beyond my area of seismology expertise... these waves look very strange."

"If it's a seismograph," cut in Weissman. "Certainly it must look like some sort of earthquake."

"I would say it could be anything... from an earthquake, to a large explosion... to anything... really."

"England isn't on a fault line," said the Doctor, leaning against a lab bench and folding his arms. "And the explosives are not quite strong enough..."

"Hah! What's wrong? Afraid your precious prognosis is wrong?" asked Weismann laughing.

"It is the sign of a limited intelligence that accepts defeat..." retorted the Doctor.

"That does it, you overdressed buffoon!" shouted Weismann.

"Gentlemen, please," cut in Moore impatiently. "Where did this last disturbance take place?"

"Several miles beyond Stratford upon Avon...." started the Doctor.

"Idiot! He doesn't know an earthquake from a blast!" shouted Weismann, throwing up his arms in amazement and walking between the lab tables.

"Do keep it down, old chap," called the Doctor. "Some of us are trying to think!"

Nudging the Brigadier, Weismann jeered, "Hear this Brigadier! Your scientific advisor shoots down my generator, and he doesn't know an earthquake when he sees one!"

"Professor, I am extremely busy," sighed the Brigadier, straining his attention between Benton on the phone and the flustered scientist.

"What's on?" asked Moore, walking up beside Weismann.

"A domestic matter, concerning an organization called Engletech..." said the Brigadier. "Yes, I'll call a meeting in fifteen minutes."

"Huh... I thought that was something serious," muttered Moore, scratching her head.

"Brigadier, I must insist that this Doctor is an incompetent fool!"

"Now wait a minute..." protested the Doctor.

"That's enough, Professor Weismann!" thundered the irritated Brigadier, muffling the talking end of the receiver with one hand. "You are acting out of line!"

"No more comments from me sir. Go back to playing toy soldiers with your men!" snapped the Professor icily. Turning to the tall fellow wearing the long cloak cape, he continued. "You haven't seen the last of me, Doctor Jones... Smith... or whatever the hell your name is!"

With disgust the Brigadier slammed down the phone.