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Mel walked into the Tardis' console room, careful not to catch her dress
on the doorframe, and paused just inside the doorway, striking what she
hoped was a dramatic but not camp pose. The Doctor, still in that ridiculous
multi-coloured coat of his, was rushing around the console, hurriedly
pushing buttons and muttering to himself. He seemed in a more then usually
animated mood.
"Doctor?" she said, a hopeful tone in her voice.
"Yes, yes," he muttered back, not looking up at her. This didn't deter her,
though.
"Doctor, what do you think?"
"Of what?" he didn't look up at her.
"My new outfit. I found it hidden away in the wardrobe room."
"Yes, yes," he now seemed to be concentrating on a keypad, repeatedly typing
in different number combinations, but he still didn't look up at her.
"But you haven't changed," Mel protested. "You agreed to change that awful
coat if I'd put on one of these long, Victorian dresses. It's not as
comfortable as my trousers but a deal's a deal. Now come on Doctor, off with
that awful coat."
"Mel!" The Doctor looked up at her, suddenly an expression of annoyance
flashed across his face.
"What's the matter?" she asked him.
"The Tardis has landed," he snapped back.
Then she noticed that the column in the centre of the console had stopped
moving, but it hardly seemed important.
"The Tardis does that all the time," Mel said.
"You don't understand," The Doctor said, stopping in his tracks and looking
straight at her. "The Tardis simply landed by itself. We were travelling in
the vortex and the next moment we materialised here, wherever here is. Now
none of the Tardis' instruments will tell me where we are!" with a
frustrated grunt he turned back to agitatedly tapping numbers into the
keypad.
"We must be somewhere," Mel said. She marched up to the console and tapped
the entry code on the Tardis' computer keyboard. It took her only a few
moments to discover that the Tardis did not know were they were, it actually
said they were nowhere.
"The Tardis says we're nowhere," Mel said.
"I know that," The Doctor replied in that 'I know that already, you fool'
voice of his. Mel ignored it, if she challenged him over it would only lead
to another argument, and pushed on.
"But how can we be 'nowhere'?"
"Somehow or someway we have been taken out of time."
"How? I know we travel in time and space but how can we be taken out of it?"
The Doctor rested his hands on the console and stared straight at her.
"Exactly!" he said.
"Is it the Time Lords?" Mel asked.
"No, no. They would have set alarms off in the Tardis, she would have
recognised them. No, the Tardis was stopped in her tracks and landed herself
here, wherever here is."
"Have you tried the monitor?"
"We're nowhere, there'll be nothing on it," he replied.
"Let me see," Mel said and quickly pressed the monitor control before The
Doctor could protest.
The scene the monitor revealed made both of them stop and look. Outside of
the Tardis was a large, formal, hedge-lined garden. The entire garden was
laid out in very ordered, neat and square or rectangular beds. The beds were
all neatly arranged in patterns of coloured plants and flowers, all forming
ordered displays. The hedges, that framed many of the beds and boarded the
garden itself in a high wall, were all cut into straight and sharp boxes.
The oriental trees were neatly trimmed into spheres and the occasional cone.
The paths, running between the beds, were all neatly raked, gleaming white
gravel. Even the packets of lawn were trimmed neat and a uniform green,
fitting in with almost mathematical precision with the ordered design of the
whole garden. At the head the garden, far into the distance, was a large and
rather ugly, red brick house, which seemed to sprawl out along the horizon.
The reorganisation was almost instantaneous for her, having spent much of
her childhood being taken on "educational trips" by her parents to every
historical stately home within a fifty-mile radio of Pees Pottage.
"It's an English Country garden," Mel exclaimed.
"So it is," The Doctor replied, his voice so obviously full of puzzlement.
"Therefore we must be somewhere Doctor." she turned towards The Doctor, but
he was staring intently at the monitor. "We go outside and look around, it
looks safe enough," she added but he just carried on staring at the monitor.
"I said, it looks safe. Lets go outside, Doctor," Mel said.
"I don't know, Mel," he said, turning to her. "The Tardis sensors all say
there's nothing out there."
"We just look outside, if there's nothing there we'll come straight back
in."
He paused for a moment; she could see him considering it all, the
concentration plain on his face. Then he said:
"All right, but only a quick look around. We've got to find a way out of
this mess."
Quickly she opened the Tardis' doors and together they walked outside.
Mel was surprised at the warmth of the garden; bright and hot sun beat down
upon them from a crystal clear blue sky. The air hung heavy, the heat almost
making the air thick around them. It reminded Mel of the hot and airless
English summers of her childhood.
The gravel was crisp under their feet, making loud and rasping sounds as
they walked on it. Mel wondered if anyone else had ever walked on it before
they did.
In front of the Tardis was a stone sundial. Quickly Mel walked up to it and
looked down at the time the shadow cast.
"It's mid-day here," she said.
"That could mean anything," he replied.
"The sun's at it's highest."
"That is, if this place has a sun. Remember, we don't know were we are."
"Well, there must be someone around here who knows where we actually are,"
Mel said as she scanned around herself, her eyes searching for any other
person in the garden.
"This garden is deserted," The Doctor complained.
"No, it isn't." Mel had seen him, a hunched over figure, sitting at the end
of a dark wooden bench, almost at the edge of the garden. He was a tiny
figure in the distance but she saw him clearly enough, and she felt he could
tell them were they where. The Doctor seemed more then usually negative
about all this. "There's someone over there," she said, pointing at the
figure.
"So there is," he replied. "How do you know they can help us?"
"There's only one way to find out," she said and marched off, along the
gravel path, towards the figure.
"Wait Mel," The Doctor called before he too followed her, a few steps
behind.
Her feet crunched sharply on the gravel as she marched towards that figure;
The Doctor's feet, a few paces behind, making the same sound.
As they walked The Doctor chatted on and on about where they could possibly
be. Mel made noises of agreement but her attention was on the figure sitting
on the bench. The closer they got the more she saw of the figure. He was a
man, a little old man hunched over on the edge of the bench, his black
clothes hanging loosely off his tiny body, his head graced by only a few
grey hairs. When they were only a handful of steps from him Mel saw that his
face and hands were creased and wrinkled as an old piece of parchment.
The old man, even as she and The Doctor drew close to him, didn't look at
them or even seem to respond to the sound of their footsteps on the gravel.
The old man simply stared off into the distance, his eyes unfocussed and
seemingly to be looking at nothing at all.
She stopped next to the bench, The Doctor stopping next to her, and noisily
cleared her throat.
"Excuse me," Mel said. "We're travellers and we seem to be lost. We arrived
here by accident and we don't know were we are. Do you know where we are?"
The old man slowly turned his head towards her, his movement painfully slow.
His face shocked her when he finally looked at her. Not by the dry and
creased old skin, which seemed to hang off his very skull, no flesh
underneath it; but by his cold and grey eyes, that even when they looked at
her seemed to reflect no light, dull and lifeless staring out of his head.
"You are lost?" the old man said, his words slow and mannered, yet his
accent still contained the edge of one who was once accustomed to giving
orders.
"Yes," Mel replied.
The old man's mouth slowly broke into a smile, a sinister and almost mocking
smile, but it never reached his eyes.
"If you are here then you are lost," the old man said.
"Now look here," The Doctor interrupted. "I'm a Time Lord and my companion
and I travel in time and space. Something caused us to land here and we
can't leave until we find out were we are."
"You travel in time and space," the old man's face suddenly lit up with
attention. His whole face had come alive and looked so dramatically
different, to Mel he suddenly seemed a different a person. This shocked her.
"Yes," The Doctor replied, a tone of annoyance in his voice.
"I will tell you where you are only if you will take me away from here," the
old man said.
"Why do you want to leave?" The Doctor asked.
"Doctor," Mel jumped into their conversation. "We need to know were we are."
she didn't want him getting sidetracked.
"I am a prisoner here. My prison cell is this awful garden. I cannot even go
further then those hedges. They will not let me in the house and it is
always this bloody noonday heat, all the time. There is no time here, we are
out of time, they are keeping me here forever," the old man said, his eyes
pleading up at them. Mel felt suddenly very uncomfortable, at the same time
outraged at what he had just said.
"Doctor," she turned towards him, "this is terrible. We can't just leave him
here. We have to take him with us."
"Yes, yes, Mel. Yes, yes we must," The Doctor, replied but he lost in his
own thoughts as he watched the old man.
"Who are you?" a woman's deep voice demanded of them, from behind them.
Both Mel and The Doctor wheeled around to face the woman. Mel had not heard
her approach and the woman's sudden voice had made her jump with surprise.
The woman stood there on the gravel, was watching Mel and The Doctor with a
stern expression. She wore a jet-black jacket, buttoned right up to her
neck, and matching black trousers - both of which seemed to have knife-edge
creases ironed into them. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight and
long plait, it seemed to make her pale skin appear almost white. Her face
seemed to have so little colour to it, her lips thin, her eyes grey and her
checks as pale as the rest of her skin. Mel thought that if she would smile
her would face might fall apart.
On her left wrist was some kind of electronic device, which also covered the
back of her left hand and seemed to be actually imbedded into her skin
rather then simply worn. Mel assumed it was her personal computer, as she
watched the woman's other hand hurriedly tapping the device.
"I'm The Doctor and this is Mel," The Doctor breezily performed their
introductions, as he always did. "And who do we have the pleasure of
addressing?"
"My bitch of a jailer!" the old man snapped.
"Quiet, or you'll be punished again," the woman addressed the old man. Mel
felt her anger and outrage rising, but with The Doctor sometimes it was
better to hold her tongue - and this was one of those times, she decided.
The woman turned her attention back to them.
"My name is Siraka," the woman informed them, "and I'm the Chief Officer
here. More importantly, how did you two get here?"
"I'm a Lord Time and we travel in time and space," The Doctor said in that
boastful way of his. "My Tardis landed here by itself and we appear stuck
here. We can't leave because we don't know were we are."
"You're a Time Lord," Siraka said. "Time Lords don't leave their home world,
you're proud of your self-imposed isolation."
"I'm not an ordinary Time Lord. I prefer to travel."
"You don't look like a Time Lord," Siraka replied.
"That's what I've always said," Mel added.
Their exchange was interrupted by Siraka's wrist device emitting a sudden
bleeping noise. Siraka raised it to her ear and seemed to be listening to
it. Mel watched the expression of Siraka's face change from one of stern
aggression to realisation and understanding.
"Right," Siraka said into her wrist device. Then she turned her attention
back to them. "It appears you are a Time Lord, we have identified the energy
signature of your craft. You now seem caught within our Time Sphere. Come
with me and I'll release you," she told them.
"What about him?" Mel said as she turned her attention back onto the old
man. "We can't leave him here," she protested.
"You can't take Duke Calatrava with you," Siraka said, the stern tone back
in her voice. "He's to stay here forever."
"Duke Calatrava?" The Doctor said, an expression of surprise crossing his
face.
"Yes," Siraka replied.
"Mel, we have to leave him, we have to go," The Doctor said, both his face
and voice serious and heavy in tone.
Mel glanced back at the old man, for a brief moment. He was no longer
looking at them, the light and life had gone out of him, and his body had
shrunk back down into the hunched over little figure they first saw. It was
a pathetic sight.
"Mel!" The Doctor shouted.
She turned and followed after him.
The Doctor and Siraka strode off ahead, towards The Tardis, forcing Mel to
almost run to keep up with them - the hem of her dress dragging over the
gravel. The Doctor and Siraka seemed to be talking as they walked but Mel
was too preoccupied to listen in. She couldn't get the image of the old man,
sitting forlornly on that bench, out of her mind. The Doctor must have had a
reason for leaving him behind but it stuck in her throat, it was so unfair
just leaving him to his fate like that.
The Doctor and Siraka stopped in front of the Tardis, giving Mel the moment
she needed to catch-up with them. They were deep in conversation when she
reached them.
"I will open a portal in the Time Sphere. I can only open it for a short
period so you will have to leave quickly," Siraka said.
"We can't go," Mel announced as she stood next to them.
"Mel, don't be silly. If we don't leave we'll be trapped here," The Doctor
replied.
"We can't leave that poor man, he's a prisoner here," she protested to The
Doctor, trying to ignore Siraka staring at her.
"She doesn't know!" snapped Siraka.
"Mel, he has to stay here," The Doctor said. "We can't take him away from
here because this is his prison. He deserves to be here."
"What!" Mel couldn't believe The Doctor was siding with this awful woman.
"He's Duke Calatrava, the Warlord. The Council of the Hundred Non-Empire
Worlds found him guilty of multiple war crimes. His punishment is to stay
here until the end of time," Siraka said, in her flat and emotionless voice
that seemed to hide so much.
"What was he guilty of?" Mel asked her, turning to look into Siraka's hard
expressioned face.
"Genocide. He ordered the extermination of the whole populations of twelve
worlds. He didn't simply invade those worlds; he wiped out all the
inhabitants of those worlds. They were Civilian worlds. Genetic and viral
warfare, blanket bombing; he used all the most sadistic methods to destroy
the worlds he conquered. He had billions upon billions of people killed."
Mel felt embarrassed as she listened to Siraka's words, embarrassed that she
had been so taken in by that old man, taken in by such an evil man.
Sometimes, she told herself, she was far too trusting.
"One of the worlds Duke Calatrava destroyed was your world," The Doctor
said, concerned in his voice.
"Yes. I was born on the colony planet of Trenchard Four. I was off world in
a Trade Delegation, my first time off world, when Duke Calatrava and his
armies attacked. He had everyone I knew killed, the whole population of nine
billion souls killed, and left my beautiful home a burnt crisp."
"I'm sorry," Mel muttered. All the things Siraka had said had been delivered
in that flat voice of hers, but underneath Mel could feel a sea of troubled
emotions.
"That is why you volunteered as his jailer?" The Doctor asked.
"Yes,"
"When does your period of duty finish?" The Doctor carried on asking.
"Never."
"Never?" The Doctor's voice had the surprise in it that Mel was feeling.
This woman couldn't be staying here for the same eternal sentence as Duke
Calatrava. He was guilty, but she had volunteered.
"None of us can leave, Doctor," Siraka said. "We have all volunteered to
guard him. We will all stay here until the end of the universe, reminding
him of his crimes."
"All of you, all of the Duke's jailers, you are all from worlds he's
destroyed," Mel said.
"Yes," Siraka replied.
Mel didn't know what to say. She didn't stand there opening and closing her
mouth like some silly fish, but inside that is how she felt.
"We'd better be going now, Mel," The Doctor said, his voice the smooth and
calming tone he used when he saw her upset.
"Yes," Siraka said. "I can only hold the window open in the Time Sphere a
very short period."
"Certainly, certainly," The Doctor said. "Right, into the Tardis Mel."
Without speaking Mel followed him into the Tardis.
She didn't speak, just stood there at the console watching him, as The
Doctor busied himself with the Tardis' controls, hurriedly setting the
switches and entering data into the Tardis' computer. Even after the Tardis
had taken off, the familiar whirring sound and shudder of the whole room as
the column in the centre of the console began to move up and down, The
Doctor carried on with his busy task of controlling The Tardis, as much as
the Tardis could be controlled.
Finally he stopped moving, just stood there at the console, and stretched,
arching his back.
"At last, we are finally safe in the vortex," he said.
Mel didn't answer him, she couldn't, the troubled emotions washing through
her mind were stopping her being able to think of a reply for him.
"Mel?" she looked at him and saw concern almost etched into his face. "Are
you alright?"
She was able to focus on his words; she now knew what her reply was.
"That was horrible," she said. "The garden looked so beautiful when we
arrived, but it was rotten underneath. The old man looked so helpless but
really he was a monster. Those people had volunteered as his jailers until
the end of the universe, willingly agreed to it. It was horrible… it's upset
me."
He moved next to her and, in that friendly and protective way of his,
slipped his arm around her shoulders.
"I'm sorry Mel, there are horrible places in the universe. Trouble is, you
don't know the places are horrible until you get there."
"Can we go somewhere nice, Doctor?"
"Yes Mel, somewhere very nice. Somewhere without Warlords and prisons and
killer plants. We'll have a quiet holiday by a crystal sea."
"Thank you Doctor," she said. "Thank you."
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