Mel Bush Page: The Third Encounter

PART VII

by John Seavey

There was a spark first. Then a few isolated arcs of electricity. And finally, a sphere of golden lightning illuminated the British countryside, earthing itself occasionally in a spectacular display of pyrotechnics.

Finally, the lightning faded away to reveal a motorcycle suspended approximately two feet off the ground. There were two passengers, a man and a woman, and they both grunted as gravity re-asserted its grip on them and the motorcycle thudded to the ground.

"Dorothée," the Doctor said, "you really need to work on that."

"Sorry, Professor," she said, "but I always figure it's better to materialize a bit up in the air than a bit down underground."

"Yes, I see your point," he said as he looked around. "You seem to have excellent navigational skills--we're within walking distance of the Nine Travellers."

"Right, then," she said grimly, pulling out her gun. "This should take all of five minutes."

"No!" the Doctor exclaimed. "You can't hurt any of these people!" Dorothée looked perplexed. "Don't you see? In five years' time, I arrive here looking for the third segment of the Key to Time, which is currently in the form of a necklace worn by the leader of the cultists. I meet these people. If you kill them now, the resultant paradox would be every bit as severe as the one we're trying to prevent!"

Dorothée reholstered her gun. "So what do we do?"

"Well, first we visit a nearby cottage and pick up a few odds and ends. Then we go to the circle and confront them." He smiled. "Don't worry--I have a plan."

After their stop at the cottage, they crept cautiously towards the circle. Despite the lack of any apparent guards or lookouts, Dorothée was still nervous. It was a clear, cloudless night and the moon was full--anyone could spot them. However, they reached the edge of the circle without incident. Carefully, they peered around the nearest stone.

Each cultist stood approximately four feet in front of one of the outer stones, roughly equidistant between them and the center sacrificial stone. Incongrously, the TARDIS sat on the sacrificial stone, still badly damaged.

On seeing the TARDIS, the Doctor's expression changed to one of berserk fury. He raced into the clearing and tackled the woman with silver skin, screaming, "NO!" But with the strength of one possessed, she flung him off easily. He almost dropped the staff he held, but luckily managed to keep ahold of it.

The silver woman laughed in the mocking tone of the Black Guardian. "Pathetic, Doctor! Truly pathetic! With all your vaunted intellect, all your legendary insight, the best effort you can muster is a feeble physical assault. You are doomed to failure."

"Not necessarily," said the Doctor, rising to his feet. He pointed the staff at the woman.

"You're too late, Doctor!" she cried. "The conjunction begins!"

Each stone began to glow as it absorbed energy from the celestial conjunction. The tops of the stone columns shot out rays of bluish light, linking them together in a true circle. Then that energy lanced down into the cultists, transfixing them with pure power.

The Doctor spun to face the TARDIS as the energy lashed out at it, as if he was trying to comfort it. The plasmic shell withered and melted under the assault, giving the TARDIS a surreal appearance.

And then the TARDIS screamed. Outside of the circle, Dorothée recoiled from the unearthly noise, but still she made no move to enter. This was the Professor's show, she thought to herself. All I am is his ride to the theatre.

The Doctor pointed the staff at the TARDIS with one hand, and let his free hand open up to reveal a pendant dangling from his long, delicate fingers. "Drop something?" he asked as he fired a blast from the staff at the TARDIS.

A swirling vortex of blue light surrounded the TARDIS, and it vanished altogether. The celestial energies collided with each other in the absence of a central target, forming a blindingly brilliant nexus in the center of the stone circle.

The cultists spoke in unison. "What have you done?" they asked in the voice of the Black Guardian.

"The third segment!" the Doctor shouted over the rising din. "Its powers include the ability to establish hyperspatial co-ordinates!"

"You..."

"I sent the TARDIS into hyperspace, using the staff that your host, Cessair, designed. And now, with no target to focus on..."

There were nine screams, all in perfect unison, as the energies backlashed through the cultists...as it flowed through the otherdimensional realms, through the connections the Black Guardian had established when he possessed them...as the unimaginable energies finally reached the being that had attempted to control them...

The cultists collapsed like puppets with cut strings. The Doctor walked over to Cessair and dropped the staff in the grass next to her. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a small vial. Opening it, he held it under her nose.

She awoke rapidly, coughing and spluttering. "What...what happened?" she asked. "Who are you?"

"Here," the Doctor said, dropping the necklace in her lap. "This doesn't belong to you." And with that, he walked away.

Mel awoke slowly, her mind still recoiling from something--some nameless horror--her arm--poisoned!

She sat up with a start, only to sink back woozily onto the bed. Her whole body was sore and achy, but her arm felt--she looked down and screamed.

"I'm sorry, Mel..." whispered the Doctor. "The poison had spread--it was changing you into one of those things. This was the only thing I could do to save your life."

"Go away," she said dully, looking at the bandage where her arm had been. "Just--go away." The Doctor looked as though he wanted to say something, but had no idea what. Instead, he simply walked out of the room.

"So where can I drop you, Professor?" Dorothée asked as they travelled through the vortex.

"The year 2000," the Doctor said quietly. "That should be long enough for the TARDIS to have recovered." He forced a smile. "Then find yourself some real clothes, hop ahead to 2010, and catch Benny's wedding." His grin became genuine. "After all, you are one of the bridesmaids."

Dorothée's response was lost in the winds of time. However, it may be relevant to note that the Black Scrolls of Rassilon record that a Time Scaphe once heard a woman's voice, shrieking, "Jesus sodding Christ!", on their entry into the vortex.

FIN (almost)

See the epilogue that should be nearby. :)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Epilogue


	Main : Doctor Who : The Melanie Bush Web Page : Fan Fiction The Third Encounter PART VII by John Seavey There was a spark first. Then a few isolated arcs of electricity. And finally, a sphere of golden lightning illuminated the British countryside, earthing itself occasionally in a spectacular display of pyrotechnics. Finally, the lightning faded away to reveal a motorcycle suspended approximately two feet off the ground. There were two passengers, a man and a woman, and they both grunted as gravity re-asserted its grip on them and the motorcycle thudded to the ground. "Dorothée," the Doctor said, "you really need to work on that." "Sorry, Professor," she said, "but I always figure it's better to materialize a bit up in the air than a bit down underground." "Yes, I see your point," he said as he looked around. "You seem to have excellent navigational skills--we're within walking distance of the Nine Travellers." "Right, then," she said grimly, pulling out her gun. "This should take all of five minutes." "No!" the Doctor exclaimed. "You can't hurt any of these people!" Dorothée looked perplexed. "Don't you see? In five years' time, I arrive here looking for the third segment of the Key to Time, which is currently in the form of a necklace worn by the leader of the cultists. I meet these people. If you kill them now, the resultant paradox would be every bit as severe as the one we're trying to prevent!" Dorothée reholstered her gun. "So what do we do?" "Well, first we visit a nearby cottage and pick up a few odds and ends. Then we go to the circle and confront them." He smiled. "Don't worry--I have a plan." After their stop at the cottage, they crept cautiously towards the circle. Despite the lack of any apparent guards or lookouts, Dorothée was still nervous. It was a clear, cloudless night and the moon was full--anyone could spot them. However, they reached the edge of the circle without incident. Carefully, they peered around the nearest stone. Each cultist stood approximately four feet in front of one of the outer stones, roughly equidistant between them and the center sacrificial stone. Incongrously, the TARDIS sat on the sacrificial stone, still badly damaged. On seeing the TARDIS, the Doctor's expression changed to one of berserk fury. He raced into the clearing and tackled the woman with silver skin, screaming, "NO!" But with the strength of one possessed, she flung him off easily. He almost dropped the staff he held, but luckily managed to keep ahold of it. The silver woman laughed in the mocking tone of the Black Guardian. "Pathetic, Doctor! Truly pathetic! With all your vaunted intellect, all your legendary insight, the best effort you can muster is a feeble physical assault. You are doomed to failure." "Not necessarily," said the Doctor, rising to his feet. He pointed the staff at the woman. "You're too late, Doctor!" she cried. "The conjunction begins!" Each stone began to glow as it absorbed energy from the celestial conjunction. The tops of the stone columns shot out rays of bluish light, linking them together in a true circle. Then that energy lanced down into the cultists, transfixing them with pure power. The Doctor spun to face the TARDIS as the energy lashed out at it, as if he was trying to comfort it. The plasmic shell withered and melted under the assault, giving the TARDIS a surreal appearance. And then the TARDIS screamed. Outside of the circle, Dorothée recoiled from the unearthly noise, but still she made no move to enter. This was the Professor's show, she thought to herself. All I am is his ride to the theatre. The Doctor pointed the staff at the TARDIS with one hand, and let his free hand open up to reveal a pendant dangling from his long, delicate fingers. "Drop something?" he asked as he fired a blast from the staff at the TARDIS. A swirling vortex of blue light surrounded the TARDIS, and it vanished altogether. The celestial energies collided with each other in the absence of a central target, forming a blindingly brilliant nexus in the center of the stone circle. The cultists spoke in unison. "What have you done?" they asked in the voice of the Black Guardian. "The third segment!" the Doctor shouted over the rising din. "Its powers include the ability to establish hyperspatial co-ordinates!" "You..." "I sent the TARDIS into hyperspace, using the staff that your host, Cessair, designed. And now, with no target to focus on..." There were nine screams, all in perfect unison, as the energies backlashed through the cultists...as it flowed through the otherdimensional realms, through the connections the Black Guardian had established when he possessed them...as the unimaginable energies finally reached the being that had attempted to control them... The cultists collapsed like puppets with cut strings. The Doctor walked over to Cessair and dropped the staff in the grass next to her. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a small vial. Opening it, he held it under her nose. She awoke rapidly, coughing and spluttering. "What...what happened?" she asked. "Who are you?" "Here," the Doctor said, dropping the necklace in her lap. "This doesn't belong to you." And with that, he walked away. Mel awoke slowly, her mind still recoiling from something--some nameless horror--her arm--poisoned! She sat up with a start, only to sink back woozily onto the bed. Her whole body was sore and achy, but her arm felt--she looked down and screamed. "I'm sorry, Mel..." whispered the Doctor. "The poison had spread--it was changing you into one of those things. This was the only thing I could do to save your life." "Go away," she said dully, looking at the bandage where her arm had been. "Just--go away." The Doctor looked as though he wanted to say something, but had no idea what. Instead, he simply walked out of the room. "So where can I drop you, Professor?" Dorothée asked as they travelled through the vortex. "The year 2000," the Doctor said quietly. "That should be long enough for the TARDIS to have recovered." He forced a smile. "Then find yourself some real clothes, hop ahead to 2010, and catch Benny's wedding." His grin became genuine. "After all, you are one of the bridesmaids." Dorothée's response was lost in the winds of time. However, it may be relevant to note that the Black Scrolls of Rassilon record that a Time Scaphe once heard a woman's voice, shrieking, "Jesus sodding Christ!", on their entry into the vortex. FIN (almost) See the epilogue that should be nearby. :) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Epilogue
Feedback \| Site Map \| Admin