Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ Dr Who – Martha and Ten The Inbetweens and Backstories ❯ Chapter Ten ( Chapter 10 )

Martha felt as though they were in an Agatha Christie novel set in 1909, which had been gate crashed by Mulder and Scully, looking for agents “K” and “J” who were chasing shape shifting aliens. It wasn't so much Professor Plum, in the conservatory, with the lead piping; more like shape shifting aliens, in the village of Kelmore, with a gigantic lizard, cow . . . thing.

The Doctor on the other hand, was reminded of Loch Ness in 1975, when he was in his fourth body and travelling with Sarah Jane. They had been at Loch Ness, where the monster was in fact a Skarasen, and the Zygons were planning to take over the Earth (as usual). Happy days.

When he thought of Sarah Jane, he remembered how, after a dodgy start, she and Rose had become firm friends. He should have told Rose about his other companions before then, but the subject never seemed to come up. She had him in fits of laughter though, when one evening on the sofa she told him how she and Sarah Jane had tried to trump each other by comparing monsters they'd met.

It was early morning on the shore of Lake Kelmore at Templewell, where the Doctor had freed the Skaresen from the Zygons' control by running the engines of all the construction equipment that had originally been used to imprison it.

`There's a subterranean channel leading out into the Irish Sea. The Skarasen will find its way to freedom. That's lovely. Isn't that lovely?' the Doctor said, glancing over at the digger and the 'dozer, whose engines were still rumbling away. `But that racket's ruining what ought to be a very promising morning.'

Ian Lunn was a bright faced young boy, and his eyes lit up with enthusiasm. `I'll turn them off,' he said happily running to oblige. Ian had been incredibly brave in helping Martha defeat the Zygons.

`I've already switched off the Opel's engine,' said Victor sadly. `What's left of it. I hadn't realised you -' The Doctor and Martha had been attacked in the car by Zygon Warlord Brelarn, who had taken the form of an English Mastiff called Teazel. He'd lost control of the car and side swiped a tree.

`Sorry, Victor.' Martha was pointing, her face grave. Everyone looked. With the Skarasens gone, they could see straight across to where Victor's car lay smashed against the tree.

Zygon Analyst Taro was crawling past the wreck of the motor car, forcing herself up the hillside. `Thought I'd killed the thing,' said Romand coldly. `With the same pistol they were ready to turn on the King.'

Claude Romand was a French journalist for News of the Globe in Paris, who had been despatched with a new fangled Pathe film camera to produce a news reel for the cinemas.

`Wait here.' said the Doctor, striding off purposefully towards the injured Zygon. `All of you. I'll be back.'

`Doctor!' Martha called, but he didn't look round.

`Shall we go after him?' Victor wondered.

`No.' Martha shook her head a fraction. `Give him a minute.'

Taro wasn't moving fast, she couldn't. The Doctor soon caught up with her. He could see she was bleeding from her side. As he approached, she hissed, tried to crawl a little faster.

He stood a few metres away from her. `Is that wound serious?'

She lay still, panting for breath. `You will kill me before I can die from it.'

`Will I?' He walked over and sat beside her, just out of reach. `Why would I do that, then?'

`Why would you not?'

`Because you're not all the same. And because I know you've lost just about everything.' The Doctor looked towards Martha and the others, back in the valley, and sighed. He'd lost his home, his people, his family . . . his Rose. `I hope none of them ever find out what that feels like.'

The distant drone of the machinery died. An eerie silence settled over the valley.

Taro's brows were knitted together in a fierce frown. `I do not seek your pity, Doctor.'

`That's good, 'cause I've got none to give,' the Doctor retorted. `Just a proposition to put to you. Go back to your ship, summon your surviving crew, wherever they might be, and rejoin the children. I checked your relays; you've got enough power left for a single trip. Leave here, hide yourselves and return to the amber sleep.'

`To await a rescue that may never come?' Taro hissed weakly. "Amber sleep" was a form of suspended animation that the Zygons used on long journeys or in emergencies.

He came closer. `It's the best I can do.'

Taro grabbed his hand in hers. `Your body is weakened by my venom,' she croaked. `A further sting . . .' she looked up at him. `I could kill you.'

`And then my friends would kill you,' he said evenly, not resisting. `Your crewmates would starve to death, and your children would have no one.' He looked her in the eyes. `I won't give you a second chance, Taro.'

Slowly, with a wheezing breath, she let go of his hand and turned away. The Doctor sat beside her in silence as the minutes passed, as the sun sauntered slowly through the sky towards the horizon. There had been too many deaths these last few days; he hoped that Taro, as a mother, would choose life for her family and her friends . . .

Later that afternoon, from the field beside the TARDIS, Martha surveyed the majestic sunset. The red sun sat low in the sky, reducing the rugged landscape to a series of sharp black shadows. And a dark, spidery spaceship was whizzing by high overhead, the whine of its drive systems devastating the silence.

She looked round at the select audience who'd gathered here besides her and the Doctor - Victor, Romand, Ian and Lord Haleston. They held their hands over their ears, staring as the ship slowly dwindled into the pink sky.

`No more Zygons, then,' she murmured. They're really leaving.'

`Somewhere nice and remote,' the Doctor agreed. `North Pole? Or the South Pole. Somewhere polar, anyway.'

`We should have killed the lot of them,' said Lord Haleston darkly. The Doctor sighed. `That's right, your lordship, end the day with a smile.'

`I certainly shall,' Ian informed them. `Nanny Flock has taken to her bed. Nerves and bruises, Dr Fenchurch says. He's given her a tonic.'

He grinned nastily. `And I've swapped it for cod liver oil.' His nanny was a stern woman who didn't tolerate his adventurous spirit. She delighted in feeding him cod liver oil as a punishment.

Romand laughed. `A taste of her own medicine, yes?'

Haleston cleared his throat. `A little respect and decorum, if you please, gentlemen.'

`You won't tell Mother and Father, will you, sir?' Ian asked, wide eyed.

`I should hate to set back their recovery.'

`He'll be far too busy helping out with the recovery of my motor car,' said Victor, smiling at Haleston. `Won't you, old buck?'

`Yes, sorry about your car,' said Martha. `You're insured though, yeah?'

He looked at her blankly. `Insured?'

The Doctor lowered his voice. `No proper car insurance till the 1930s.'

`Ah,' said Martha. `Unlucky.'

`On the contrary,' said Victor. `After living through all that has happened here, I feel as lucky a man as the King, himself.'

`As do we all,' Haleston suggested, `for playing our small part in protecting the life of the monarch.'

`Long live King Edward,' cried Ian, and Martha joined in the chorus of agreement.

The Doctor nodded. `Though why he was named after a potato will always be a mystery to me.'

Haleston's face darkened, and Martha hid her smile by turning towards the TARDIS. She thought of all the people who'd be coming home just as they were leaving. Little Molly, reunited with her family. Ian's parents back together with Teazel. The real Mrs Unswick, taking back ownership of her Lodge. And poor Clara, who'd be visiting her parents' church for a final time.

Martha was still wearing the girl's cardigan. She wanted to bring it out into the stars with her; a little piece of the girl she'd never known, that would fly forever.

`I take it,' said Lord Haleston, his grave voice interrupting her thoughts, `that you have some luggage stowed away in this extraordinary object?'

`Lots,' Martha agreed. `We'll just go and get it.'

Romand took her hand and kissed it. `And then, my dear, it will be my privilege to run you to the station in my motor car, yes?'

`If my own car wasn't in pieces, I'd offer the same service myself,' said Victor, pressing a kiss against her other hand.

Martha smiled at them both. `And if I was going to the station, boys, I'd take you up on it.'

Ian looked puzzled. `Then, how are you getting home?'

Martha smiled round at them all one last time, as the Doctor unlocked the TARDIS door and slipped inside.

`Don't let appearances deceive you,' she said, giving Ian's hand a fond squeeze. `This is our home.'

Ian watched her follow the Doctor into the strange-looking police box and close the door. Victor and Romand frowned at each other, and Lord Haleston started to mutter something about inappropriate behaviour under his breath.

'How's your throat?' Martha asked from the other side of the console. The Doctor's neck was red and swollen where he had been stung by Taro as he'd tried to stop her from repairing the cybernetic implant in the Skaresen's brain.

'Feels like I've swallowed a cactus,' he said with a smile as he rubbed his throat.

'Come through to the Medi-bay and I'll have a look at it for you.'

'Nah, its all right thanks,' he said dismissively as he started up the Time Rotor.

'Oi! I might not be a doctor yet, but I am a third year medical student,' said Martha sternly. 'And you've been keeping me from my clinical studies. So come through to the Medi-bay. I need the practice,' she said with a tone of voice that she used on the drunks on a Saturday night shift.

The Doctor's defiant stare softened and turned into a smile. 'Okay, Third Year Medical Student Jones.'

He allowed himself to be herded into the Medi-bay, where she applied a soothing balm to his neck. She shone a light into his mouth, using a tongue depressor to look at his tonsils while he said "aahhh".

She felt the glands in his neck, and listened to his chest with a stethoscope. She smiled to herself as she heard his two hearts lub-lub-dub-dubing away in his chest. She took the stethoscope out of her ears and straightened up.

'Well, what's the verdict?' he asked her.

'Diagnosis,' she corrected him. 'A doctor gives a diagnosis. A judge gives a verdict.'

'Actually, it's the jury that hands down the verdict. The judge renders a judgement of conviction before sentencing,' said the Doctor with a smug smile.

Martha didn't rise to the bait. She's treated plenty of awkward patients at the Royal Hope on a Saturday night. 'The skin on your neck is inflamed, but the glands aren't swollen. Your airway isn't restricted and you have equal air entry to both lungs.'

The Doctor gave her a genuinely impressed smile before she concluded. 'Oh, and as far as I can tell, both your hearts are beating normally. In conclusion, you'll live, which is more than can be said for me if I don't get some sleep.'

'Thank you Third Year Medical Student Jones, and as THE Doctor, I prescribe a good nights sleep for you. See you in the morning.'

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The next morning, Martha entered the console room, dressed in a black lace top, purple skirt, brown boots; and a light purple head band to keep her hair back. The Doctor had changed back into his brown pinstriped suit, but instead of a shirt and tie, he'd gone for a denim shirt with a white T-shirt underneath.

He was frowning in concentration at the monitor, as she approached.

'Found something interesting?' she asked, as she stood by his side and looked at the unintelligible symbols on the screen.

'Mmmm, yeah, I think I've found our next adventure.'

'Really?' she said, a bit apprehensive about him trying to get them killed again.

'Yeah, a collapsing star is in the first stages of forming a black hole, which happens all the time . . . what's interesting though is the shape of time and space around it are being distorted to form a Starman.'

'What's a Starman when it's a home?'

'A Starman, is a cosmic being with primitive consciousness. They travel through space and time on the energy they receive from eating stars, and sometimes, if you're unlucky, they migrate from their own time and go trampling through existence, wiping it clean and rewriting history, rewriting the laws of science itself.'

'Okay, not good then?' she said.

He straightened up from the console. 'Come through to the Library, I'll show you a published paper on them.' He walked towards the corridor. 'My people used to watch out for them and keep them in check.'

'So who does it now?' she asked in concern.

He looked over at her and smiled. 'You're looking at him.'

In the Library, the Doctor perused the shelves, searching for a particular publication.

'Ah, here we are,' he announced, and pulled out a thin, hard backed book. He handed it to Martha, and they sat on the comfy sofa.

'Starmen. The genesis, aetiology and morphology of a trans-dimensional, polymorphic entity,' she read out loud. 'A treatise by Arkytior. Seventh year student, Prydonian Academy.' She looked up at the Doctor with a questioning look.

'Don't worry; the title is worse than its contents. It's a student paper from the Academy on Gallifrey, it's very readable and informative.'

'O-kay,' she said uncertainly. 'I'll give it a go.'

Thanks to all the studying that she had been doing recently to become a doctor, she was able to read and retain information really quickly, and by the time she'd finished reading the paper, she was quite the expert on the Starmen.

'Fascinating,' she said, putting the book on the low table in front of her. 'How are you going to stop it?'

'Well, when it appeared as two giant humanoids on Karkinos, I used a device that had the power of a collapsed star in it. It was made by a very clever, and not very nice, character called the Exalted Holgoroth of All Tagkhanastria.'

'That's alright then,' she said, relieved that he had a method of stopping this very dangerous threat.

'Ah, but then there was a larger Starman, created by ripples from the Karkinos Starman. That one migrated to ancient Babylon, where it appeared as a kind of giant goat-fish. I lost the orb of the Exalted Holgoroth of All Tagkhanastria when I fought that one,' he told her.

'Giant goat-fish?'

'Yeah, it had no back legs, just the tail of a rotten fish, huge and bloated, and it pulled itself along with two immense lizard-like arms. Its head had dangling fleshy tendrils and two horny protuberances jutting from the top,' he told her, a distant look in his eyes as her remembered.

'It had the same dead, distant eyes as the twin giants, and the same faint appearance as if it was there but somehow not there at the same time. The strangest thing of all was what looked like water gushing from its shoulders, giving the appearance of two long, drooping silver wings.'

'Blimey, they really can take on any appearance then. Do you know what this next one is going to look like . . . ?'

He opened his mouth to answer, but she interrupted him. 'Oh, and where and when its going to appear . . . ?' He went to answer again. 'Oh, and how we're going to beat it?'

He smiled at her, she'd said `how are WE going to beat it', she was part of the TARDIS team for sure. 'Let's go back to the console, and I can scan the forming Starman.'

At the console, the Doctor scanned the collapsing star, and the forming trans-dimensional being. He tracked it forwards in time, predicting its migration, and calculating the point where it would appear.

'Ooh, that's new,' he said. 'Not seen that configuration before.'

'What is it, is something wrong?' Martha asked.

'No, not really, unless you call four eggs wrong? Well, four pod like things containing body parts wrong. Well, four things containing a head, chest, abdomen, and tail, that will form a giant lizard when they hatch and fuse together, wrong.'

'Yeah, that sounds very wrong. You'd better fill me in on the details . . . and where did you say it was migrating to?'

'Er, I didn't . . . it's your hometown . . . London.'