“Yowww,” cried The Doctor and jumped back
from the console as it gave him an electric shock. “Stop that,”
he added as he approached it again gingerly. “You’re supposed
to be on MY side.”
K9 whirred at his feet and though he had no change of expression –
since his metal face didn’t have that sort of mobility - The Doctor
was sure he was looking smug. HE never electrocuted his master, that expression
was saying.
He was almost sure the TARDIS engine hiccupped slightly, almost like an
apologetic reply to him. But when he touched it again he wasn’t
electrocuted, anyway. He felt fairly sure he could risk asking Wyn and
Stella to help him.
“What’s up, anyway?” Wyn asked as she took up position
at the drive control while The Doctor struggled to make some sense of
what was usually called navigation. That implied some kind of decision
about the destination and the inputting of co-ordinates by conscious choice.
In fact, the TARDIS seemed to be choosing its own destination and refusing
to tell him where and when it was.
“Somebody is messing about with the space-time continuum and the
TARDIS is chasing after them to stop it,” he answered. “I
REALLY wish people would stop doing that. It’s a bloody nuisance.
Seems to be happening far more often these days, too.”
“Do you think so?” Wyn asked. “Is that a bad sign?”
“It’s a pain in the neck, is what it is,” he answered.
“I wanted to take you girls to 1979 to see Ian Drury in Sheffield.
Started out to do that once before and got diverted. Never did get there.
One thing always leads to another, you know how it is.…”
Wyn knew how it was with The Doctor, anyway. So did her mum. Jo had often
talked of him promising to take her to some place called Metebelis Three
and never making it. In the end she went to Llanfairfach instead and stayed
there.
“It’s not happening more often,” Stella told him in
a quiet voice as she worked something out. “It’s happening
just as often, but the other Time Lords aren’t around to stop it,
and there’s just you now coping with it all.”
The Doctor looked at her and his twinkling eyes dimmed.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just… you know…
kind of obvious.”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “It is. And you’re right.
That’s about it. Mind you, when they were around, the lazy gits
usually left this sort of thing to me. So… well, really, nothing
new there.” He smiled and the twinkle came back to his eyes. His
moods were as changeable as the weather. Stella wondered if he had been
like that in her mum’s day, too, or was it just this version of
him.
She liked this version of him, anyway.
“So what or who is causing this particular bit of continuum vandalism
and where and when?” Wyn asked.
The Doctor’s smile deepened. She had managed to put all of the questions
he wanted answering into one perfectly grammatically correct sentence.
He just wished he had some answers to it. He hated not having the answers.
A few minutes later they all three picked themselves up from the floor.
“Another perfect exit from the time vortex,” Wyn noted as
she rubbed the bits of her that had collided hardest with the mesh floor.
“So where are we?”
The Doctor checked the temporal location.
“We’re in orbit around the moon – Earth’s moon
that is. On the dark side at the moment. And the date is… oooh….
Ohhhh…..”
“July twentieth, 1969?” Stella glanced at the temporal clock.
“Ancient history,” she added cheekily.
“Ooohhh,” Wyn echoed The Doctor’s thoughts on that particular
date. “We ought to get out of here. It’s about to get crowded.”
Stella looked at them both and scowled. She hated it when Wyn and The
Doctor got clever together.
“July twentieth, 1969,” Wyn explained for her benefit. “Apollo
Eleven. The Moon Landing. They would have taken off by now wouldn’t
they?” She looked at The Doctor for confirmation. “I don’t
know a lot about it, but some historical dates you don’t forget.”
“The launch was July sixteenth,” The Doctor said. “At
13:32 UTC. They did one and a half orbits of the Earth before firing the
booster rockets that sent them into a trajectory towards the moon. By
the 19th they were orbiting the moon preparing for the landing in the
Sea of Tranquility at 20:17 UTC on July twentieth.”
Stella looked over his shoulder to see if he was reading it from a Wikipedia
entry. He wasn’t. She watched him check the time again, noting that
it was 09:57 UTC, and then turn on the viewscreen.
“This should be interesting,” he told his companions. “Come
here and look.”
“Wow,” Stella gasped. “That’s….”
“Yes, it is. One giant leap for mankind on its way.”
Apollo Eleven filled the viewscreen for several minutes as its orbit passed
the TARDIS. The two humans watched in awe. The Doctor watched in admiration.
It was millions of years since his own people discovered space travel.
He knew about it only as some really dull history lessons from his early
years at the Prydonian Academy before they got onto what he and most of
his classmates regarded as the good stuff. It really WAS what Stella had
jokingly called ancient history on his planet. By the time he was born
there wasn’t much left to discover in terms of space technology.
But watching the early efforts of humans to catch up on the universe made
him just a little proud of that indomitable race.
“That all seems to be ok,” Wyn said. “It’s not
what brought us here, is it?”
“No, it isn’t,” The Doctor said. “Everything is
fine there. Right on schedule.”
“How come they never reported seeing a big blue police box out of
their windows?” Stella asked.
The Doctor grinned.
“The Perception Filter is on,” he explained. “People
not expecting to see a police box in space won’t see one.”
“Right.” Stella obviously DIDN’T understand, but she
took his word for it. “But we’ve parked the TARDIS loads of
places where people wouldn’t expect to see it and they DO see it.”
“I don’t always use it,” he answered. “It puts
a strain on the engines. But right now we don’t want to be seen.
Official First Contact between humans and the rest of the universe doesn’t
happen today.”
“Er…. You’d better tell THEM that, then,” said
Stella pointing to the viewscreen as another space ship came into view.
“Oh &#@&$%!” The Doctor groaned. “We got here
early. That’s the cause of it.”
“The continuum vandals?”
“They don’t look like vandals,” Wyn observed. “They
look like they’re about to be victims of a nasty accident.”
They all looked at the viewscreen and saw that she was right. The ship
was not so much flying as tumbling through space out of control. It was
a squat looking ship, with a rounded fuselage and odd looking fins that
she supposed made it aerodynamic in some way, and two engine nacelles
either side, only one of which glowed blue to indicate that it was working.
The other was flickering red and a grey and black smoke was pouring from
it.
“Hypo-static warp engines,” The Doctor commented. “Notoriously
unreliable. Hell to steer, too. I’ll bet they hit something coming
through the asteroid belt.”
“They’re going to hit US,” Stella yelled, wondering
why The Doctor was talking about unreliable engines and asteroid belts
so casually.
“No, they’re not,” The Doctor answered her. “They’re
further away than it looks on the screen.”
“Negative, Master,” K9 observed. “Current trajectory
indicates one hundred percent likelihood of collision. Likelihood of TARDIS
survival one hundred percent. Likelihood of unknown craft survival zero
percent. Suggest evasive manoeuvre to prevent fatalities aboard unknown
craft.”
The Doctor looked at K9 then looked at the console. “Yes, they are
going to hit us. Wyn, grab that lever. Stella, just grab anything. Evasive
manoeuvre….”
The TARDIS engines groaned as The Doctor swung it out of the path of the
stricken ship. Everyone felt that tug in the pit of their stomachs that
comes with a fast drop. It was the sort of thing that was part of the
excitement of a good roller coaster, but part of the hell of dropping
through space with a madman at the controls who was grinning and whooping
with joy as he used his foot to push a lever his arms weren’t long
enough to reach.
The alien ship missed them, but by no more than a few inches. Then The
Doctor began to shout out more orders to his crew.
“What are we doing now?” Stella asked.
“Trying to stop it crashing,” The Doctor answered. “Or
at least slowing it so that it soft lands and doesn’t disintegrate
when it impacts with the moon.”
“It’s going to hit the moon?”
“Not if I can help it,” The Doctor said. “Just need
to extend our gravity field.…”
“See, if you just installed a proper tractor beam that worked with
one button,” Wyn commented as she watched his hands blur as he rapidly
crossed wires inside a glowing panel of the environmental console. “It
WOULD be so much easier.”
“Tractor beam!” The Doctor grinned. “Where’s the
fun in that? Too easy. Anyway, done it now. Hold on, it’ll be bumpy.”
“What isn’t?” Stella commented. “Just save them,
whatever they are. Even if they’re bog eyed slime monsters inside,
they don’t deserve to get smashed to smithereens on our moon.”
“I’m doing my best,” The Doctor told her. “Yes,
they’re slowing. I can’t stop the impact. But I’ve managed
to slow them…. I…. Ohhh.”
He didn’t have to explain. It was obvious what was happening. The
alien ship was still crashing into the moon, though less terminally than
it would have done. But it was dragging the TARDIS with it. The engines
groaned again but they all felt the sensation of being towed along, out
of control, which was almost as unpleasant as the sudden drop sensation.
The Doctor looked like he was playing Twister with the console. BOTH feet
reached alternatively to press against levers and his hands reached and
pressed and pulled things with desperate fury while he hummed a tune that
Wyn couldn’t place for the moment but made her think of football
for some reason. It was only later, at a completely irrelevant moment
when the tune drifted into her mind again, that she realised it was the
theme from The Great Escape.
The two sisters looked at the viewscreen and saw the moon getting closer.
It already filled the screen and as the seconds went by they saw its topography
in increasingly close detail. They knew they were going too fast, and
they knew The Doctor was not in control of the landing. Both of those
facts were frightening. Travelling in time and space in a blue box were
only fun as long as they knew the owner of the box was in control of it.
Everything else was a near death experience.
They landed hard. Everyone was thrown to the floor again. How many times
was that today? The Doctor was the first to scramble to his feet, and
he gallantly helped his companions up and reached for his sonic screwdriver
in tissue repair mode to mend a nasty bump on Stella’s forehead
sustained as she had banged against the console.
“Ooh,” Stella sighed. “That feels nice. Like being massaged
with something cool and soothing. It’s almost worth getting hurt.”
The Doctor smiled warmly at her and turned to Wyn.
“Any thing I can help you with?” he asked, waving the sonic
screwdriver.
“No, thank you,” she answered. “I’ve got a bruise
the size of Wales on my bum, and you’re not massaging that with
anything. But what’s wrong with the TARDIS? Why are the lights flickering
like that?”
The Doctor kicked the console and the lights stopped flickering, but they
were dimmer than usual.
“We’re on back up power,” he said. “The main engines
were knocked offline. They’ll take about four hours to reboot. Meanwhile
I can’t dematerialise or move the TARDIS any closer to the other
ship. And I HAVE to run the Perception Filter in full extended mode because
EVERYONE on Earth is watching the moon right now, especially a bunch of
very clever people in Florida. I have to hide the TARDIS AND the other
ship. The lights are on power save mode to give us a bit more juice for
the important things.”
“What about the other ship?” Wyn asked, remembering the reason
why they were in this predicament. “Did it land or crash land? Is
it ok?”
“It landed intact,” The Doctor answered as he turned to the
console. “And, yes, I’m reading lifesigns. Still not sure
who or what they are, but we’d better go and see if they need any
help.”
Wyn automatically reached for the first aid kit that was kept in a panel
under the console. Stella stepped towards the door.
“Hang on,” The Doctor called to both of them. “We’re
on the MOON, remember. No air. Suit up.”
“Suit up?” Stella looked at The Doctor’s retreating
back as he went through the inner door. She and Wyn followed him until
he stopped at a door next to the kitchen that they always assumed was
a broom cupboard.
Wyn wondered WHY they thought that since the TARDIS automatically dispelled
dust through its vents and nobody EVER swept the floors.
In fact the cupboard contained space suits. She supposed that made sense.
This was a space ship. There must, occasionally, be a need for space suits.
“Essential emergency equipment,” he said. “In case of
life support failure, though to be honest the cupboard is in a stupid
place. In the event of life support failure the corridors tend to be vented
in order to preserve oxygen supply in the console room.”
He handed out the suits and showed them how to put them on properly and
attach the helmet and oxygen tanks.
“We’re space women,” Stella laughed excitedly. She tried
to jig up and down but found that her feet were clamped to the ground.
“Gravity control,” The Doctor told her, showing her a dial
on the arm of the suit. “Turn it back up when we get outside, though.
Otherwise you’ll be a Stella shaped balloon and we’ll have
to put you on a string.”
They all adjusted their gravity and stepped back into the console room.
They noticed The Doctor do something at the console before he turned towards
the door. Wyn was on the point of asking when he supplied the answer to
the question.
“I’ve temporarily shut down everything beyond the console
room,” he said. “The only physical rooms on the TARDIS are
this one, the cloister room, and the engine room itself. The rest are
maintained by the TARDIS using huge amounts of energy. I can save power
by letting them all collapse.”
“??” said Stella’s face. Her voice couldn’t work
out how to form the question.
“Sort of flat pack storage,” Wyn explained to her. “Don’t
worry, when it comes back online everything will be fine.”
“My room is flat packed?” Stella looked worried. But The Doctor
opened the main door and she forgot all about it as she glimpsed the moon
surface.
A moon surface that had not been stepped on by any Human being –
yet.
She turned up the gravity control and stepped onto the surface. She made
three or four more steps and turned and looked at The Doctor and Wyn as
they followed. Behind the helmet visor she was grinning with excitement
and delight.
“I was the FIRST!” she cried out shrilly. Wyn and The Doctor
both winced as her voice came through the microphone headsets that they
communicated through and told her to turn it down just a bit.
“But I’m the FIRST Human to walk on the moon,” she said.
“Isn’t that COOL.”
“Just so long as you don’t expect to get into the history
books,” The Doctor warned her. “Neil Armstrong will be along
in another couple of hours and he’ll expect the moon to be virgin
territory. Which brings us to another problem. I don’t know if either
of you noticed WHERE we landed.”
“My moon geography is a bit rusty,” Wyn commented. “Why?
Where did we….” Her voice trailed off. “Oh… bu…
sh…. Damn, I wish I could pronounce those Gallifreyan swear words
you use. I think one of them would be appropriate.”
“So where ARE we?” Stella asked, a little slow on the uptake.
“The Sea of Tranquillity,” Wyn answered. “Where the
Eagle Landed. On July twentieth, 1969. We need to get this rescue operation
over and done with and get us and them out of here, and clear up any evidence
of us being here before the Americans arrive.”
“In six hours, thirty minutes and fifteen seconds,” K9 said.
“We have less than half that,” The Doctor said. “On
back up power I can’t risk running the perception filter for more
than three hours. If we’re still there then we’ll be on live
television all over Earth. Apollo Eleven was broadcasting pictures of
the moon’s surface, especially the area they were about to christen
Tranquillity Base.”
“We really want to avoid that, then,” Wyn observed.
“Anyway,” The Doctor added. “Errand of mercy, first.”
He looked carefully at the crashed spacecraft. It was more or less intact,
although it had landed at an angle and one of the fins was buried in the
thick grey moondust and the other one had a bad crack along it. He stepped
up to the airlock door and ran his gauntleted hand down the edge. Even
through the fabric he could sense the atmosphere inside. It was oxygen
based, though thinner than Wyn or Stella were used to. It would feel like
they were at high altitude. But they should be ok. They weren’t
going to be there for long.
“You know,” Wyn pointed out as he used the sonic screwdriver
to unlock the airlock. “We don’t even know if they’re
friendly.”
That was a very good point, The Doctor conceded to himself, but he carried
on unlocking the door. Apart from anything else, it was his duty to offer
assistance to the occupants of the crashed ship. There was an intergalactic
law that no ship’s captain with a conscience could disregard.
The Captain of the good ship TARDIS had an abundance of conscience. He
sometimes thought he was the conscience of the universe.
The airlock door opened with a hiss. They stepped inside. The Doctor closed
the outer door and pressed the button that re-pressurised the small, claustrophobic
room before they could open the inner door. The Doctor thought about what
Wyn had said and thought about some of the hostile races that existed
in the universe and changed the setting of the sonic screwdriver to welding
mode. He had never actually used it to weld an enemy, and the confirmed
pacifist soul of him hoped he never would. But just in case….
The first thing they heard as they stepped in through the inner door
was what sounded like either a baby or a kitten crying. It was hard to
tell which, but they all understood it was the sound of something or someone
very vulnerable in distress.
“This is a small freight ship,” The Doctor observed as he
took off his helmet and looked around. Stella and Wyn did the same as
they picked their way through a small cargo hold. A lot of the cargo had
broken free of the straps that held it in place. The impact had been hard
enough to do that. That made The Doctor anxious about the crew. He thought
he’d managed to give them a soft landing. But it looked like it
wasn’t soft enough.
“What sort of cargo is this?” Wyn asked as she moved a box
out of her way and it split open, spilling a pile of toys out of it. Mostly
they were balls of various sizes and colours and they all rolled away
into the shadowy corners of the dark hull.
“Looks like somebody moving house,” Stella commented.
“Yes,” The Doctor replied. “Space equivalent of Rent-a-Van.”
He bent and picked up one of the toy balls. It was rubber and jingled
with a little bell inside. He smiled. “I don’t think we’re
dealing with anyone hostile,” he added. “Just a terribly long
way from home.”
He took the lead as he stepped through the bulkhead door. Wyn and Stella
followed curiously and were very surprised by the next sounds The Doctor
made.
“Awwwww. Poor little mites. Whasssamatter then? Don’t cry.
The Doctor’s here. There’s a poor little kitty. Who needs
a drink-a-milk then?”
“Kitty?” Stella and Wyn both chorused and then gulped as The
Doctor turned around to reveal the small child he was holding. It had
the shape of a Human aged about three, but it had the face, paws and tail
of a cat and the parts of it not covered in a blue romper suit had fur.
The Doctor was cuddling it tenderly and it was making much quieter noises
now, though its three siblings in the big basket were still crying.
“Doctor, I can hear somebody calling,” Wyn said, leaving aside
all the questions she wanted to ask right now about the nature of the
rent-a-space-van family. “Somebody FRIGHTENED.”
The Doctor listened and realised she was right. He put the child/kitten
in Stella’s arms.
“You look after them,” he said. “That machine on the
wall there is an automatic cream dispenser. That should quieten them.
Wyn, with me. K9, don’t scare the kittens.”
Wyn followed him as he sprinted to the bulkhead door opposite where they
had come in to the untidy living area. On a ship as small as this the
last section had to be the cockpit. The door was jammed. It wasn’t
locked. But it had jammed on impact. The Doctor tested first to make sure
there WAS atmosphere behind the door and then used the welding mode of
the sonic screwdriver to cut through the hinges and pull the door aside.
The cockpit had suffered the worst of the damage. But after glancing at
the exoglass ‘windscreen’ to ensure it was intact and not
leaking atmosphere or in any imminent danger of doing so he gave his attention
immediately to the two people he found there.
Both the people were CATS, Wyn immediately noticed. Again their height
and body shape was roughly that of Human adults, but they had cat faces
and paws and the female had a slit in her dress to allow a long black
tail to hang out. She was kneeling next to a male who was trapped beneath
a spar of metal from the wrecked drive controls.
“All right,” The Doctor said gently. “I’m here
now. It’s all going to be just fine. What’s your name?”
“Petra,” the female answered. “Petra McDevitt. He’s
Gordo, my husband. The children… I couldn’t open the door.
They were crying… I couldn’t….”
“The children are fine. They’ve got a babysitter now.”
He touched her on the shoulder and pointed back through the door to where
Stella was sitting on the floor feeding cream to all four of the children,
two of them lapping from bowls on the floor, and two climbing all over
her to drink from a bowl she held in her hand.
“Let’s see what we can do for Gordo,” The Doctor added.
He had already drawn his sonic screwdriver and changed the setting to
medical analysis. Gordo was not doing too good. His lifesigns were weak.
A concussion to the head was the reason he was unconscious, but there
was also massive internal bleeding. The Doctor put his hand on the spar
that trapped the cat-father thoughtfully.
“I can cut through this and lift it off him,” The Doctor said.
“But as soon as I do, and the pressure is released, the internal
bleeding becomes even more serious. He needs an operation immediately.
And I think I’m going to have to do it here. He can’t be moved.”
“Operate?” Wyn and Petra both looked at The Doctor equally
fearfully. Wyn knew The Doctor could literally BE a doctor when he had
to be. But this sounded desperate even for him.
“Wyn, you know how to take a pulse?” Wyn nodded. She had learnt
first aid from him, along with so many other things she knew about. “Come
and do that. If anything changes – CPR on cat people is the same
principle as humans. I have to go back to the TARDIS and get some more
equipment. The basic first aid kit isn’t enough for this.”
Wyn did as he asked. He turned to Petra and put his hand on her shoulder.
“I’ll be back as fast as I can,” he promised.
Petra looked into his brown eyes and knew he was telling the truth. She
nodded and managed a smile. He ran back through the living cabin, telling
Stella she was doing a great job, and through the cargo hold where the
entire possessions of the McDevitt family were stored and into the airlock.
It seemed to take a precious long time before the outer airlock opened
and he ran out, his footprints once again marring the pristine grey-white
moon dust as he raced across the fifty yards or so to the TARDIS. He was
inside the door before he remembered he hadn’t put his helmet back
on. He was so anxious to get there he hadn’t even thought about
breathing.
He breathed now, one deep breath and then reached the console. He restored
the internal rooms. That took a few minutes before the inner door would
open and he raced down the corridor to the medical room. He wondered why
it was that such an important room was so far from the console room. It
stood to reason that if it was needed it was probably needed in a hurry.
But the TARDIS had been designed to have the kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms,
waste disposal, even a home cinema room that Wyn and Stella used on long
trips, all much closer than the medical room.
The Doctor knew perfectly well that the TARDIS could re-arrange all the
rooms at will. It COULD put the medical centre next door to the console
room. He could only conclude that the reason it didn’t was that
it like to make him run. It liked a bit of drama, and having him race
through the corridors on a life or death mission where every second counted
was drama.
Daytime TV drama, he noted wryly. He never figured the TARDIS for a soap
fan!
He reached the medical room and quickly grabbed everything he would need.
Scalpels, sutures, swabs, sterile gloves, face masks, paper surgical gown,
anaesthetic, oxygen….
His head buzzed with the list of thing he needed and by the time he was
finished he looked like a contestant in one of those game shows where
you had to hold onto all the prizes and not drop them. He was halfway
back to the console room when he remembered that he had left his helmet
behind.
Least of my worries, he murmured as he burst through the door and ran
across the console room floor. He raised his foot up agilely to the manual
door release and stepped out onto the moon again. As he ran he noted Apollo
eleven passing by in one of its final preparatory orbits before the landing.
Time was NOT on the side of this Time Lord right now.
Again, the airlock seemed to take ages before it let him through. It wasn’t
an excessive time, really. His internal body clock knew that. But his
anxious hearts and mind felt just like any other being who feels the pressure.
Every second he was delayed was a second more in which Gordo McDevitt
got a little weaker and less able to survive the terrible stress on his
body when he lifted the spar and began to operate on him.
He put on the surgical gown, gloves and mask first and had Wyn and Petra
do the same. Then he took the sonic screwdriver in that welding mode he
hoped never to use as a weapon and carefully welded through the spar.
Wyn and Petra took the strain of it and as soon as it was broken free
they lifted it and pushed it aside. Immediately, The Doctor got into position
and Wyn took her place as his head nurse, placing a mask over Gordo’s
face, supplying a mixture of oxygen and anaesthetic.
“Turn the pressure down,” he told her. “They come from
a planet with a lower oxygen content in the air. The usual pressure will
be too much for him.” Wyn did as he told her as he made the first
incision into Gordo’s torso. Beneath the soft brown fur on her face
Petra blanched as a lot of blood poured out of the incision.
“That’s because his stomach cavity is full of blood,”
The Doctor said as he asked her to apply the sterile swab. She did so
obediently and The Doctor opened up the incision more fully to see where
the damage was.
“Ruptured spleen,” he said. “Ok, that’s bad, but
not as bad as a major organ. And I learned to do splenectomies YONKS back.
Easy peasy.”
His disarming grin was lost behind the face mask, but Wyn saw that his
eyes had that twinkle that proved he really wasn’t just saying that.
He could perform the operation, even if they were doing it in a cramped
little cockpit of a tiny family space ship. Things would be all right.
Petra didn’t know about the twinkle. She was still anxious. The
Doctor knew that. As he worked steadily he talked to her.
“You’re moving house then?” he asked casually, as if
they were just having coffee at a space station lay-by.
“Yes,” she answered. “You know how it is with us Felinites.
So territorial. I have four older sisters and they all have kittens. So
Gordo and I packed up and headed off. We’re heading for Gantus III.
Do you know it?”
“I know it,” The Doctor replied. “But….”
Gantus III was, he knew, the old name for the planet Humans eventually
renamed New Earth. Felinites had been the indigenous population when the
Humans arrived and established their version of civilisation on it, much
like Cortez established civilisation in the Americas and Europeans had
established civilisation in Australia - or his own people had established
civilisation on a variety of planets in shouting distance of the Kasterborous
system.
At the expense of the customs and traditions of those who thought they
already were a civilisation!
But that was a long way in the future. Gantus III was at this time a small
colony of Felinites who set out from their own overcrowded planet where,
as Petra said, it was impossible to find a bit of land to bring up a family
that wasn’t already claimed as somebody else’s territory.
Gantus was their equivalent of the open American prairies to the pioneers
of the late nineteenth century on Earth or the Beta Delta colonies to
Earth humans by the twenty-fourth century. It was the land of opportunity
for those prepared to brave the hardships and trials and make a go of
it.
What puzzled him was that Gantus III was about five hundred light years
away from Earth’s solar system. This little ship could not possibly
have drifted this far off course on its own.
He gave his full attention to Gordo for a few minutes as he reached the
crucial part of the splenectomy where he actually cut out the organ and
micro-sutured the left and right gastro-omental arteries. Humanoids could
live without the spleen. It made them very susceptible to infection. Gordo
would have to be careful to get all his vaccinations up to date and get
the regular parvo-virus and feline flu jabs. But he should be ok.
“His blood pressure is down a bit,” Wyn observed as The Doctor
began to suture the wide incision he had made into the body cavity. The
Doctor looked up and noticed she was right.
“He needs a blood transfusion,” he said. He looked at Petra.
She shook her head.
“We’re different blood groups,” she told him. “I’m
O-b. Gordo is B+d.”
Felinites had completely different blood groups to other humanoids, The
Doctor remembered. There was no way the children could give blood at their
age. Only one thing for it. He told Wyn to take over the suturing. It
was fairly straight forward now and began to set up a simple gravity transfusion,
taping the needle at one end of the tube into Gordo’s vein before
rolling up his own sleeve and inserting the other end into his upper arm.
Petra looked startled.
“Time Lord blood is universal,” he assured her. “Perfectly
safe.”
“Are you ok doing that?” Wyn asked. He was not exactly stocky
of build and his arm looked thin and pale even before he began syphoning
off his own blood. By Human standards he looked anaemic already.
But of course he wasn’t Human, and as she completed the operation
on Gordo McDevitt he gave up two pints of his own blood to ensure their
effort was not in vain. He didn’t even look dizzy when he was done,
although he did ask Petra if there was any chance of a cup of tea. Wyn
wasn’t sure if he really NEEDED a cup of tea or whether that was
just a way of getting Petra to do something other than worry about Gordo
for the time being.
“No, I really DO need a cuppa,” The Doctor answered her even
though the question had just been floating in her head. “Gordo is
going to be just fine now. I’m not sure about his ship, though.
And that’s our next problem.”
By the time Petra had made the tea in the corner of the living area where
she prepared the family meals, The Doctor had carried Gordo gently through
and laid him in the bed where the two adults slept. He just needed rest
now. The Time Lord blood mingling with his own would give him the boost
he needed until his own body was ready to do the fighting for him. The
Doctor took the tea and drank it. He knew they were still on a time limit,
but even he needed a breather before he tackled that next problem. He
looked at Petra as she cuddled her children, competing somewhat with Stella
for their affections.
“What happened to cause the engine malfunction?” he asked.
“Was there something unusual?”
“Yes,” she said. “Although I don’t really understand
it myself very much. Gordo is the pilot. I look after the children. They
were all asleep. We were just about to put into orbit around a small planet
and turn in for a few hours. Then there was a sort of lightning. I mean,
it was like lightning. But I didn’t think you could GET lightning
in space. And it came closer to us. It was bigger as it got closer, and
we sort of passed through it. And I don’t know…. If I think
about it, concentrate really hard, I can sort of remember what it was
like. But if I tried to describe it to you I.… No, sorry it’s
gone again.”
A Time Ribbon, The Doctor thought. They were rare things. Even his own
people weren’t sure what they were and they were so erratic there
was no way to study them. But when they occurred they caused tragic devastation.
Gordo and family had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Doesn’t matter,” The Doctor said, knowing he didn’t
have time to explain Time Ribbons even if he could. “You passed
through it, anyway, and came out….”
“In the middle of a load of asteroids,” Petra continued. “We
were hit by one straight away, before Gordo knew they were there and tried
to move around them. I think about three or four big ones hit. But we
got through somehow. We saw on the long range scanner that the blue and
green planet had an oxygen atmosphere. I didn’t want to go. We didn’t
know what the people might be like. But really we had no choice.”
“You nearly made it,” The Doctor said gently. “Gordo
didn’t take into account the gravitational pull of Earth’s
moon. You got pulled off course. Good job we were around, really.”
He drained his tea cup. “I’d better get on with the repairs
to the ship. Wyn, K9, old boy, you up to it?”
“Sure, Doctor,” Wyn said, uncurling herself from the cushion
she was sitting on. Cushions were what Felinites used for chairs. It made
sense, but it meant you had to stretch your legs after you stood up.
K9 declared himself ready for action and hovered along at The Doctor’s
ankles as he came back into the thoroughly battered cockpit. Blackened
patches where small fires had died out in the oxygen light atmosphere
showed which instrument panels were most seriously damaged. Even the most
cursory visual assessment was dismaying. When he set K9 to do a diagnostic
test of the computerised navigation system his hearts sank.
“We’re going to be up against it,” The Doctor said.
“This is going to take hours.”
It would have taken many MORE hours, Wyn reflected, if any ordinary computer
engineer was in charge of the repairs. She was a pretty good one herself,
but she wouldn’t know where to begin. She did what The Doctor told
her inside the panels while his hands blurred as he worked. Petra brought
more tea, but this time The Doctor let it go cold. He was too busy. Wyn
saw his expression as the time passed by. He was worried. Desperately
worried.
He might not do it!
The idea shocked Wyn. The Doctor not able to do something was a new and
curious, and dreadful thought. He could do anything. He could do everything.
He always had the answer and he always saved everyone in the nick of time.
She had been there at the nick of time, the last moment, the eleventh
hour, more times than she could count.
The Doctor always managed to cut the blue wire and stop the bomb going
off. Or if she was going to do movie metaphors, he was the US cavalry
coming over the ridge as the civilians in the circle of wagons were down
to their last bullets.
He ALWAYS did it in the nick of time.
Not this time, Wyn, The Doctor thought. This time I can’t. There’s
too much damage. Even if I get the systems on line there’s still….
He groaned out loud and his hearts sank even further.
The wings. He still had to look at them yet.
“K9 has a list of what has to be done yet,” he told Wyn. “Carry
on, will you, while I go and look at the fuselage.”
“Ok,” she answered. “Doctor….”
He paused and looked at her.
“I KNOW you’ll think of something,” she said. She smiled
at him. He smiled back, but with his mouth. Not with his eyes. The twinkle
wasn’t there.
He forgot, again, that he didn’t have his helmet. He could have
borrowed Wyn’s or Stella’s, of course. But he didn’t
even think about it until he was in the airlock waiting for the depressurisation.
He closed off his lungs. He could keep going for about thirty minutes
without needing a breath. If he couldn’t do it in that time he couldn’t
do it at all.
He looked up. Last minute preparations were going on up there. The lunar-lander
was being prepared for that historic happenstance that was only about
an hour away now. Of course, when they did land it was another few hours
before they judged it the right moment to step outside, but the Eagle
had WINDOWS. They couldn’t be here then.
It seemed trivial. What would it matter, some might say, if Neil Armstrong
popped along and had a cup of tea in the TARDIS and said hello to a race
of people who evolved from panthers and not apes?
BECAUSE it didn’t happen, was the reason. Humans couldn’t
find out, today, July twentieth, 1969, that there really WAS life on other
planets. They couldn’t know that their technology was thousands
of years behind even the Felinites, who still used a relatively primitive
method of propulsion in their little immigrant crafts. Time Lord technology
would send them mental.
It had to happen in the right order in the right time frame. Humans needed
another three centuries of slowly developing technology before they could
“slip the surly bonds of Earth” at will and go on to slip
the even more surly bonds of the solar system and reach out to touch all
those stars in their heaven, even if they never managed to touch the face
of their god.
Enough poetry, he chastised himself as he tested the right forward fin
and a chunk of it broke off in his hand. He sighed dismally. The Time
Ribbon had been almost wide enough for the ship to pass through whole.
The Doctor didn’t like to think about what would have happened if
it hadn’t been, but the vision came unbidden into his mind. One
half of the ship would have been left in the original space time location,
and the other would be instantly transported to this one. The children,
Gordo, Petra, would asphyxiate as their poor bodies tumbled out into the
vacuum of space.
He shook himself and pushed the horrible thought away. It hadn’t
happened. But the fin must have dragged the edge of the Ribbon and the
temporal equivalent of sparks had flown. Where they hit bits of the fin
had been split off and left randomly in space and time. What was left
looked like it a Spitfire wing that had been shot up by a Messerschmitt.
There was no on the spot bodge job he could POSSIBLY do that would make
this ship spaceworthy in the twenty minutes margin he had before the perception
filter failed and the TARDIS and the Felinite ship were both visible to
Apollo Eleven and the world.
The perception filter! The Doctor turned and ran to the TARDIS. When he
came out through the console room loaded with medical equipment he hadn’t
closed the inner rooms down again. He hadn’t had a hand free to
do it and he had been more concerned with getting back to Gordo.
The back up system was ten minutes short of going down. There was an insistent
alarm telling him so as he entered the TARDIS. He looked at the console.
The mains engine would be ready to come back online in about fifteen minutes.
There would be five minutes when they were all completely exposed.
An insane idea occurred to him. A long shot even longer than offering
a lorry load of chewy sweets to a bus depot eating giant lizard. He ran
through the inner corridors to a room loosely called the lumber room.
It was where he chucked all sorts of bits and pieces that got left behind
on the TARDIS. Odd bits of furniture that he accidentally materialised
around from time to time; a spare hatstand, a portaloo - don’t ask;
half a Dalek. REALLY, don’t ask. Anything, basically, that wasn’t
a weapon. Those he threw straight in the garbage disposal.
This wasn’t technically a weapon, so he had tossed it in here and
almost forgot about it. But right now he could think of a really good
use for it. He turned and ran back through the console room, taking a
gulp of breath before he stepped out on the moon again, wryly noting that
there was a whole trail of footsteps in the dust now. Virgin territory
it was not!
He stood a few feet away from the Felinite craft and raised the shrink
ray that had been confiscated from one of B’Tallia Vance’s
henchmen the last time he ran into her/him. He fired a burst and watched
as the craft shrank to the size of a child’s tricycle and picked
it up and tucked it under his arm as he turned back to the TARDIS. He
stepped inside and closed the door. He put the ship down on the floor
gently and stepped towards the console. It was actually quite easy to
do the same thing to the TARDIS itself without a raygun. He didn’t
do it often, not deliberately anyway. But he could if it was convenient
to do so.
He did so. Inside there was no obvious difference. Outside, if there was
anyone to observe, the TARDIS would have been shrinking down to the size
of a child’s dolls house. He heard a soft plump and knew that some
of the moon dust had collapsed onto the roof. That ought to be enough
to disguise the ten inches or so of blue roof as he turned off the perception
filter. Without it the back up power would last the ten minutes until
the mains engine could fire up again.
He reached in his pocket and called Wyn on his mobile.
“Are you ok in there?” he asked, just slightly worried about
the wisdom of shrinking down a ship full of people and then shrinking
down the ship that ship was in. He was slightly relieved when her voice
didn’t sound at all ‘small’.
“Ok, listen, we’re nearly out of the woods as it were. Just
hang on there for a few more minutes. And… listen, this is very
important. Please do as I say. I can’t emphasise how important it
is. ALL of you, stay away from the windows. DON’T look out of the
windows.”
Wyn sounded puzzled but said she’d make sure everyone did as he
said. He asked about Gordo and was told that he was snoring, which had
to be a good sign.
And Stella was becoming seriously emotionally attached to the kittens.
He felt the slight shudder as the main engine finally kicked in. He smiled
and reached to reverse the miniaturisation process and made the TARDIS
full size again. Yet again there was no difference inside, and outside
the perception filter was in place again so any observer would only have
noticed a square indentation appear in the moondust.
Those indentations and footprints were something The Doctor had to deal
with next before he could think about leaving. He very carefully piloted
the TARDIS upwards about ten feet, then turned a dial that turned the
underside of it into a powerful gravitational force. Moondust rose up
like iron filings attracted to a magnet that was then abruptly switched
off. The dust fell again and settled smoothly and there was no trace of
any footprint or indentation ever sullying the Sea of Tranquility. He
looked it over carefully before he was satisfied then hit the dematerialisation
switch minutes before the lunar lander descended and history was made
in the proper order history was supposed to be made in.
Wyn and Stella, accompanied by the children and Petra stepped out into
the sunshine.
“Where are we?” Wyn asked as she looked back at the Felinite
ship parked on a rather nice golden beach. The Doctor was standing there
with a smile on his face and his hand behind his back, holding something
he didn’t want her to see.
“One of the uninhabited Micronesian Islands,” he answered.
“Nearest place I could find to park up while we transfer Gordo to
the medical room. Might as well let the kiddies build a couple of sandcastles
and I’ll see if there’s a couple of tins of tuna in the kitchen,
make a bit of a picnic.”
Petra was happy to leave the children in Stella’s care on the beach
– they were happy with the sand but stayed well away from the sea.
A race dislike of water, of course. She went with The Doctor and sat beside
Gordo as he slept on, unaware of being moved into the nice comfortable
bed in the medical room. Neither he nor Petra were aware of The Doctor
going back outside and firing the raygun at the ship and shrinking it
back to tricycle size.
Wyn watched him do that and remembered what he had said about not looking
out of the windows and put two and two and two together and then divided
them.
“Oh!” she said. “Right. I see.” She took a tuna
fish sandwich and stretched out on a towel in the sunshine, glad to be
rid of the space suit. She just nodded when The Doctor picked up the toy
sized ship and left it inside the TARDIS before coming to sit down himself.
It would only take a few hours to get to Gantus III and drop the family
off. They could enjoy their picnic first. When they left, the tide would
handily wash away the footprints and sandcastles and impressions left
by two alien craft that had briefly visited.
“It’s still July Twentieth, 1969?” Wyn
asked out of idle interest as she looked up into the blue sky. Despite
it being mid-afternoon there was a faint, pale gibbous moon in the sky,
as there so often was when moonrise didn’t coincide with night-time.
She couldn’t see anything, of course. But she had imagination enough
to picture what was going on up there.
“Yes,” The Doctor said. He reached out his hand towards that
pale moon and waved, and in a low voice recited the poem that had been
in his head for a while and which seemed wonderfully appropriate for this
momentous day in Earth’s destiny.
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.