Doctor Who?
~~by Bobbie Cabot~~

If you knew about the Doctor and you saw a 60s blue British police call box, you'd probably come to the conclusion that the time-travelling Doctor is around somewhere, trying to save the world from the Daleks again, or maybe from the Cybermen, the Sycorax or the Judoon.

But this time, this isn’t the Doctor. Not exactly…

-----
“Well, I don’t know why you had to regenerate me as a girl!” the tall, slim, very pretty blonde complained while she walked down the row of stores in the open-air mall.

“I didn’t regenerate you as a girl,” her companion, a shorter brunette answered crossly as she followed the blonde. “No one regenerated you! Didn’t he explain that there’s really no controlling regeneration? ”

“But why a girl!! Of all the things…”

“Like I said, no one can control regenerations!”

“Seriously, Binky. A girl?”

The brunette raised her arms in frustration. “I give up!” She reached out and swiped at the flashlight-thing that the blonde was holding. “Gimme the sonic screwdriver, for God’s sake! You don’t even know how to work it.”

“Hey! Gimme that back. I do so know how to work the screwdriver! I was the one who got the brain dump.”

“Well, he said that would take time to take effect. In the meantime…” She flicked something on the flashlight and the top opened up like a four-pronged pair of pliers with a green light in the middle.

It made a kind of warbling sound, and the brunette followed the sound like one would a geiger counter’s clicks.

“I think I found it!” She waved the blonde to follow. “Quinn, stop shopping and come on!”

The blonde looked up from the vintage, striped brown, off-shoulder blouse she was looking at. She returned it to the hanger along with the rest of the blouses in the shop’s display and hurried after her friend.

-----

The brunette that Quinn called “Binky” stood in front of a vintage music store. The sign said “Groovy Tones – musical curios from the 40s to the 70s.” She was waving the buzzing flashlight with the green light at the store’s glass display front.

“So, it’s inside?” Quinn asked.

Binky nodded. “Apparently.” She went into the store, and Quinn followed.

The tinkling of the door’s old-fashioned chimes greeted them, and an old man in a bathrobe that seemed to be his uniform came over.

“Good morning, Quinn, Mary Elizabeth. Welcome to Groovy Tones. What brings you two here?”

“Good morning. Are you the one that runs the place?” Quinn asked.

“Not usually,” he said. “But my shop is currently in… ummm, let’s just say it’s in a state of temporal flux at the moment, caught between two planes of reality. So, while I wait for it to turn up, I’m here helping out a friend, and taking care of his shop.”

“Hold on… you know us? How did you know our names?”

The old man chuckled. “It’s magic! More like a magic spell, actually.”

Binky frowned at him.

“You don’t believe in spells?” he asked her.

“Arthur C. Clarke’s third law says ‘any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’”

“Arthur C. Clarke again,” the old man growled. “What does he know?”

“So, you know us?” Quinn asked.

The old man harrumphed. “Of course! You’re Doctor Quinn Valentine, who recently completed his residency and doctoral thesis, and just acquired his doctorate at the University of Cambridge, and you’re with your best friend, Mary Elizabeth Kristensen, and she is a doctoral candidate also in Cambridge.”

She was about to nod and congratulate the man for his knowledge but paused.

“Wait! You said ‘he’…”

“Well you were, weren’t you? A ‘he,’ I mean. Before your regeneration made you into a girl.”

“Hold on a second! You know about that, too?”

“Of course I know! You should be more careful. Your regeneration’s your own fault, you know, letting your TARDIS land on you and crush you.”

“It wasn’t my fault! How would I know it would take off straight up and then come crashing back down? We just finished assembling it, and we were still testing it, after all.”

“Well, anyway, what can I do for you today?”

Quinn looked at him for a second, made the decision to ignore any questions she might have tor the old man, and to just concentrate on what they were after.

“We’re looking for something,” she said.

“Well, duh, of course, you’re looking for something. I mean, what are you looking for, specifically, and maybe I can help you find it?”

“We’re, umm, looking for a cassette tape. You know what that is, right?”

The old man sighed. “Well, yes, of course I know what a cassette tape is. You ARE in a vintage music store, after all. You know, for a doctor, you don’t sound too smart.”

The old man led them to a table piled high with a lot of music knickknacks and odds-and-ends. He pointed to a cardboard box full of used cassette tapes in the corner. Some of them were still in their cases but most weren’t.

“Here’s our selection of cassette tapes,” the man said. “You can have the entire box for five hundred dollars.”

“Five hundred American dollars for a box full of moldy, used tapes?” Binky said in a very crisp, northern English, Lancashire accent. “I think not.” She started rooting inside the box. After a moment, she found the one that they wanted.

“Aha!” she said, and held up the beat up-looking cassette tape. It was labeled “TARDIS Mix Tape. DO NOT ERASE! - The Doctor.”

Quinn turned to the old man. “We only want this one. How much?”

“That one? How about fifty cents?”

Binky reached into her jeans’ front pocket and brought out a bunch of coins. “Bugger! I don’t think I have any American coins!”

“Here,” Quinn said, and handed her two quarters.

Binky stuck her tongue out at Quinn. “Americans…” she muttered, and gave the coins to the old man.

“Thanks, m’dear. Anything else?”

Binky put her hands on her hips. “Hello? Receipt?”

The old man gave her a dirty look, but after a moment, turned back to an old-fashioned manual cash register on the front counter, punched up some buttons on it, pulled a lever, and it spit out a small piece of paper. He handed the receipt to her.

“There! Happy now?”

“Ta... Umm, thanks,” Binky said.

“’Kay, let’s get outa here,” Quinn said. “Thanks, mister.”

“Let me help you,” the old man replied. He snapped his fingers and they found themselves being picked up by something invisible, and then they were floating towards the front of the store. The door swung open and they found themselves outside.

“Whoa!” Quinn said. “That was like magic!”

The old man chuckled. “That was nothing. I’m great at magic. Spells are us, you know. Now, goodbye!”

The door slammed closed.

They looked at each other.

“Rude,” Binky commented. “What did we say?”

“Let’s not find out and just get back to the phone booth. That dude’s pretty creepy, and I’m scared what else he’ll do with his ‘magic.’”

Binky suited words to action, and they rapidly walked back to the edge of the little open mall where a red telephone booth stood. Most British people would have recognized the red telephone booth with the legend “TELEPHONE” near the top, but it was weird seeing a red, British one in California.

The two didn’t hesitate and opened the booth’s doors.

“Boo!” a bunch of uni freshers exclaimed, and leaned out the doorway as a soon as Quinn and Binky opened the doors.

“Oi!” Binky said, and tried pushing them all back in. “You lot! Back in there!”

There were at least a dozen of them trying to lean out of the door. Someone from the outside would wonder how a dozen people could fit in a tiny phone booth (or, more appropriately, a red London “telephone box”), but TARDISes, even home-made copies of old, outdated, broken-down ones, are still larger on the inside than on the outside.

“We’re hungry!” one of them said. “Did you get chips at least?”

“Shut your mouth!” She turned to Quinn, in an almost accusing manner. “You didn’t have to bring your bloody students!”

Quinn shrugged. “They didn’t want to be left behind. And we wouldn’t have been able to finish the TARDIS if it weren’t for them. We owe them.”

“Bloody students…” Binky muttered, shoved them inside, and stepped in herself.

When everyone was inside, Quinn took the opportunity to look her new TARDIS over. She would have preferred the chameleon circuit to be working, but what could they do? They were building a copy of the Doctor’s TARDIS, but that one’s chameleon circuit wasn’t working, so her version wouldn’t have a working one either. At least they were able to update the look so, instead of a 50s police call box, hers was disguised as a contemporary, red, London phone box.

At the moment, her TARDIS could only fly through space. But, with the data cassette tape they just acquired, it’d be able to fly through space AND time. Hopefully…

“Anyway,” she thought, “time to get back to the lab and finish up the final pieces of the TARDIS. Besides, I’m sure the Doctor is getting impatient by now.” Maybe next time, she’d be able to come back and stay longer. She sure did miss LA.

She stepped into the box, closed the door and, in moments, the red box slowly disappeared accompanied by a mechanical, groaning kind of sound.

---end---

Note that this is a fanfiction story of Doctor Who. The TARDIS
and the Doctor, as well as the original Doctor Who logo,
are properties of the BBC. No ownership of these properties
is claimed. No IP infringement is intended.

-------------------------------

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Doctor Who? - Bigger on the Inside
(or “Trapped in a Phone Booth in a Space Station”)
~~by Bobbie Cabot~~

The Doctor has disappeared, but he left his newest apprentice on 21st century Earth to help the humans while he was away, Dr. Quinn Valentine.

This is the story of Quinn’s first mission as the Doctor’s pinch-hitter. And she comes with her new sonic screwdriver, her own companion (best friend Mary Elizabeth “Binky” Kristensen), and even her own TARDIS, except Quinn’s TARDIS looks like a red London Phone Box.

-----

1. About Quinn and Binky

It’s been ten months now since that day, or maybe that’s not right. Maybe I should say it’s been three years and ten months… Or actually, if you’re going by the calendar, I should say three months.

Confused? Well, that’s nothing new for me.

Hi. I’m Dr. Quinn Valentine, recently appointed associate professor of astrophysics in Cambridge University’s Institute of Astronomy in Cambridge, England.

And, as my best friend, doctoral candidate Mary Elizabeth Kristensen (who I call Binky just to be annoying), and I sit in this holding cell, I can’t help but reminisce on how we ended up here.

Almost four years ago (going by the elapsed time in my head), I was still a he then, and Cambridge’s newest wunderkind.

I was controversial, not for anything I had done, but simply because I was American. And in the hallowed halls of Cambridge, an American physics-slash-astronomy professorial candidate was almost unheard of. Despite my obvious brilliance (as you see, I am very humble, heehee), my application would have been passed on, if not for the man my professors called “the Doctor.”

The Doctor had apparently taken a shine to me, and, with his sponsorship, I eventually became one of the Institute’s few American professors.

From then on, this mysterious “Doctor” became a fixture in my life, and things would never be the same for me again.

2. About The Doctor

No one in the university really knew him, except that he was very important to the university higher-ups, and was allowed anything he wanted.

The Doctor was actually a “Time Lord” – an alien from Gallifrey, a planet located in the constellation Kasterborous, within a parsec or two from the center of our galaxy. Time Lords are able to travel to any place and time in the known universe through the use of amazing time machines called TARDISes (TARDIS stood for “Time and Relative Dimension In Space”).

The Doctor was a tall, thin, salt-and-pepper-haired crotchety old man that didn’t seem to do much of anything except fly around in his TARDIS, but when Binky and I found ourselves whisked along with him on some of his trips around space and time, I realized I was totally wrong.

Apparently, the Doctor was a kind of Robin Hood, or maybe a Batman or a Green Arrow, and he went around helping people in situations that needed help. Many times they were like world-shaking emergencies or disasters, and he traveled the universe helping where he could.

Apparently, humans had a special place in his heart because he seemed to have taken on the role of the Earth’s protector, helping to stave off invasions, disasters, the depredations of would-be dictators and other assorted bad guys.

We weren’t destined to be like the so-called “companions” that the Doctor has had over the centuries (and yes, I did say “centuries”) – simple bystanders along for the ride; he had a definite plan for us.

After that disastrous thing with the “monks” a couple of years ago (betcha can’t remember, right? But don’t fret - most of us had more-or-less forgotten what happened already), the Doctor had started looking for a sort of pinch-hitter to help him because he knew the Earth was going to need some help to get through some tough times in the 21st Century. And, apparently, I was to be this pinch-hitter.

And so began my apprenticeship.

3. About Quinn’s TARDIS

Binky and I got to join him in a few of his “adventures,” and were introduced to several of the baddies that Earth would again be facing– such as the Daleks, the Cybermen and the Martian Ice Warriors. But, most of all, we got a crash course in galactic history as well as comprehensive lessons in the care and feeding of the Doctor’s Type 40-TT TARDIS – apparently, I was going to get my very own TARDIS and needed to know my way around one.

But, instead of going to Gallifrey to get one (something I found out even the Doctor couldn’t swing, given his reputation among the Time Lords), we ended up going to a kind of Gallifreyan boneyard of discarded Gallifreyan tech at the edge of the galaxy, which included broken-down TARDISes, TARDIS parts and other things.

TARDISes were never made - they were actually “grown” in labs on Gallifrey. But that didn’t stop anyone putting one together, provided he knew where to get parts from old TARDISes.

So, under the guidance of the Doctor, my students and I found a derelict Type 40 and scrounged up all the parts we would needed to make it functional. We then used the Doctor’s own TARDIS as our reference (apparently, you couldn’t get blueprints for TARDISes, especially for obsolete versions like the Doctor’s own Type 40). We soon had a working TARDIS (although the word “working” wasn’t completely correct).

My TARDIS was essentially lacking the stuff that gave a TARDIS character, but the Doctor said I’d eventually accumulate that over time. But the Doctor did select a “desktop theme” that he thought was nice (it was similar to the theme that his eleventh incarnation preferred).

One thing that we never did get used to was the fact that a TARDIS was bigger on the inside. On the outside, it looked like a ten-foot-tall metal cylinder, but once its chameleon circuit was engaged, it would look like some normal feature or object from its immediate surroundings. So, when the Doctor landed in 1960s London, his TARDIS took on the appearance of a British 1950s police callbox. However, apparently, its chameleon circuit was damaged so it was stuck like that ever since.

As for my TARDIS, since we were using the Doctor’s TARDIS as our pattern, we inadvertently copied its stuck chameleon circuit as well. But, at least, my TARDIS was able to update itself a little – mine now looks like one of those red telephone phone booths that you see in London. Thank goodness it didn’t look like a 1950s police box. But, like the Doctor’s, mine was stuck as well.

On the inside, though, it was as if the space inside the TARDIS was infinite. I didn’t really understand the Doctor’s sketchy explanation, but I didn’t care. All I needed to know was that there was enough closet space for all the clothes I would eventually be buying.

4. About Quinn’s Regeneration

After we got my TARDIS working, it was then that the Doctor revealed the second part of his plan.

Through some contrived pretext, he exposed me to something called The Eye of Harmony for a whole week (something you shouldn’t do), and I became a sort of human analogue of a Timelord, somewhat similar to the infamous Dr. River Song. This was essential because, in order for my TARDIS to start working, it needed to imprint on its Gallifreyan pilot, and that was to be the transformed me.

Furthermore, I discovered that I could also undergo what are called “regenerations” - you see, real Gallifreyan Time Lords could regenerate their physical selves when they found they were close to death. And, apparently, even “fake” Time Lords like me also regenerated. My first regeneration was necessary so that I would be able to survive the “brain dump” that I was going to be given, like the brain dump that Donna Noble, one of the Doctor’s old companions, experienced, but since she was just an ordinary human, she almost died because of it until the imprinted knowledge was erased.

So, the Doctor arranged for an “accident” to trigger my first transformation.

Of course, no one told me about the regeneration, the data dump, the fact that the regeneration would turn me into a physically different person, and that the change would be completely uncontrolled. Oh, well. I guess there are worse things than turning into a blonde bombshell, right? As well getting the attendant blonde bombshell attitude and personality: Binky said I’ve turned into a bimbo, but I don’t think so. She’s just jealous. (Although I do seem to have this new instinct to start wearing sexy clothes. Heehee.)

Anyway, soon after the regeneration and brain dump, the Doctor told us about this old-time cassette tape we had to pick up in LA (see my story from our third Mix Tape post - Bobbie), and as soon as we left, he disappeared to parts unknown, along with his friends Bill and Nardole. And we never saw him again.

Anyway, instead of the hoped-for plans to fix my TARDIS, it turned out the cassette was full of instructions for our first, ummm, “mission.”

The cassettes said we’re supposed to investigate this space station currently orbiting the planet, and to stop whatever nefarious plans its builders had for it. What the station was, who its builders were, and what they had planned for it, we didn’t know, except that it was going to be something “very, very bad,” as the Doctor said in the cassette.

Well.

5. About the Mysterious Space Station

Anyway, it seemed that we were all alone on this one - no Doctor to help - and Binky and I began with some reconnoitering. Not difficult if you had a TARDIS.

We went through all the Internet feeds and channels, and I found, in the secret ones run by the government, that people were already aware of the station. They were trying to find out who sent it up, but they weren’t having luck. Some were backtracking and tracing all rocket launches in the last few years. Their theory was that it was assembled from parts sent up and assembled in orbit piece by piece. But then, how come no one saw it being assembled? In fact, it was only found by accident a few months ago, courtesy of some high school kids with a homemade telescope.

The natural conclusion was that it was of alien origin.

But, looking at its picture in the TARDIS’s monitor, it was clearly of human origin. In fact, it looked like the ISS, except for a ginormous module attached to it – a big tin can-shaped thing about the length and width of a football field. It was so large it was as long and wide as the rest of the station.

There was like a kind of scaffolding that connected the flat side of the can to the ISS part, and it had four equidistant rows of ports on its curving wall.

“What are those?” Binky said, pointing at the ports. “Thrust vents or something?”

“I don’t know,” I answered. I then flipped switches in a certain sequence. The knowledge of what to do seemed automatic to me now.

Binky looked at me. “So,” she said, “the brain dump is finally working, huh?”

I shrugged. “Well, not completely. I seem to be getting bursts of stuff, but it’s all random. Anyway – look.” I pointed to the screen.

The close-up shot showed that the ports had something stuffed inside them. Binky squinted. “Those look like rocks inside the ports.”

“Yes, they are. And look at this.”

A kind of shuttle was fast approaching the space station. As we watched, it laboriously maneuvered and parked itself right above the flat side of the tin can. It then opened its bay doors and mechanical arms started transferring rocks into the tin can via a large hatch. And the shuttle’s cargo bay seemed full to the brim with rocks.

“Now why would they be collecting rocks?” Binky asked.

Putting two and two together, my blood ran cold.

“I think I know why,” I said. “Hold on!”

Almost instinctively, I reached for a lever and pulled it down. The familiar wheezing sound reverberated through the control area.

6. About Breathable Air

After a few moments, we felt the TARDIS land, and the sound slowly diminished.

Binky and I looked at each other. “You coulda’ warned me, you blasted…”

I waved her down. “No time for that.”

I started walking back into the inside of the TARDIS.

“Now, where are yeh going?” she asked exasperatedly.

“To change outfits, of course!” I exclaimed.

In a while, I came out wearing a little black dress with a short skirt, heels and smoky tights, and with my dark-blonde hair in kicky little ponytail. I thought it made me look professional, not to mention cute.

“You have your equipment with you?” Binky asked.

“Yes,” I said as I typed a long email on my phone and then pressed send. “I got my psychic paper, sonic screwdriver, makeup kit…”

She sighed in irritation. “Dammit…”

“Here,” I said, and handed something to her, mostly to shut her up.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a modified cellphone. So we can keep in touch with each other if we get separated.” I then put my Wayfarer sunglasses in my outfit’s breast pocket, my phone, my girl-wallet, a packet of tissues, my special compact makeup clutch, the psychic paper and, of course, my sonic in various other pockets.

“Why not use a purse for all your stuff?” Binky waved her own purse.

She’s right, of course. Now why didn’t I think of one? Clearly, I’m still done regenerating yet.

Before I could open the doors, Binky put a hand on my arm. “Wait! Is there air out there?”

“You’re forgetting – the TARDIS makes its own atmosphere. We’re safe to walk out.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not forgetting. I didn’t know it in the first place. That brain dump must really be working on you now, huh?”

I shrugged.

We stepped out and started looking around. Apparently, we materialized, or “landed” as the Doctor might say, inside one of the station’s landing bays. (Mentally, I was congratulating myself for my piloting skills – I landed us in the place I was aiming for.)

That fact alone was impressive – as far as I knew, humans haven’t been able to build anything in orbit large enough to even have a landing bay. And, of course, if there’s a landing bay, then there were ships that would make use of the landing bay. Seeing the words “Bay 02” on the wall also told me there was at least one other landing bay. Wow.

Binky pointed to the sign. “English,” she said. “Definitely a human station, then.”

I didn’t bother to point out that, having come from inside the TARDIS, everything we would see would be translated to English, but since I knew that the sign was indeed in English script, I just let it go.

I took out my new sonic screwdriver and waved it around.

“Well,” I said, “the station itself is fully pressurized, including that attachment we saw. But no one’s around in this part of the station. Everyone’s on the other side.”

“You can tell all that with the sonic screwdriver?”

“Well… yes?”

“What is that attachment anyway, do you think?” Binky asked.

“Well, essentially, it’s a bomb bay. They’ve set up this station into something like an orbital bombing platform. They’ll be able to drop rocks onto the planet like bombs. And with the speed, size and mass of the rocks, they’ll have enough kinetic energy that they could be like little nuclear bombs exploding on top of cities.”

“Oh, my god!”

“Not planet-killer size rocks, though – those ports we saw are too small for those.”

“What do we do, Quinn?”

“Well, offhand, I think we have to destroy the station, or at least that bomb bay. The question is, how?”

“Yes, indeed, that is the question,” we heard a deep voice with an Italian accent emanate from the intercom speakers.

“Oh, my god,” Binky whispered, “they know we’re here!”

7. All About Captivity

We looked around in the little holding cell we were put in. Nothing except the bunks and the chairs.

Binky took a sip of her drink.

“It’s ironic,” she said. “We’re trapped in a space station, and the drink they left us with is Tang.”

We both giggled at that.

“Eat your heart out, Neil Armstrong,” I said.

We heard someone open the door of our cell.

“Good evening, ladies,” the man at our door said. It was the man from the intercom. The thick Italian accent was a giveaway. “Hope you are feeling well today.”

“We’re doing okay,” Binky said, and nonchalantly sipped her so-called orange juice.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” he said, nodding to Binky, “but I’m even more pleased to meet the famous Doctor,” he said and bowed to me, “and his magical phone booth. In my organization, you, Doctor, are quite famous. I do love the new you, though. Excellent regeneration.” He wagged his eyes suggestively. “And I have so wanted to perhaps see the inside of your TARDIS?”

“I’m sorry, but you have me mistaken for someone else.”

He laughed. “I doubt that – we find two women in my station without spacesuits, with no spaceship parked anywhere near, a strange phone booth parked in my landing bay, and one of these women carrying one of these.” He brought out my brand-new sonic screwdriver.

“You know,” he continued, “we’ve heard of what your sonic screwdriver is capable of. Still, none of my people can figure out how it works. I would ask you for a demonstration, but I don’t know if that’s safe.”

I shrugged. “How about our other stuff?”

“You mean these?” He gestured to the other guy, who brought out a Ziploc bag with all our stuff. “I’m afraid I can’t let you have them, either, my dear.”

I decided to use another tack.

“You know,” I said, “you seem to know all about me. But I’m afraid I don’t know anything about you. I think that’s a little unfair.”

The man laughed. “Of course, you’re right. Let me introduce myself, then. I am Tomas Stelisto, from the beautiful and historic city of Milan, and formerly of the United States Space Program. I’m fairly sure you don’t know me, but I’m sure you know my employers – the Slitheen Family of Raxacoricofallapatorius? Goodness – that is indeed a mouthful.”

“The Slitheen? No wonder. I take it this station is theirs?”

“Ah, no. It’s mine. I built it, under contract to the Slitheen.”

“So, you built a space-based meteor-bombing platform for the Slitheen. Did they tell you why they wanted one?”

“Well, not really. I can assume they want to enslave the human race – use the station as their bargaining chip, perhaps.”

“Well, no. The Slitheen don’t really want the people. All they want is the planet itself.”

“Well, whatever. I never did plan to give it to them. So, I took their gold, used it to get whatever I needed to build the station, but I never intended to give it to them. No one is going to be taking over the Earth anytime soon, except for me.”

“I don’t get it. So, it’s not good for aliens to take over the planet, but it’s perfectly fine if a human did?”

“Sure. Especially if that human happened to be me.”

“What made you think the Slitheen would just leave you alone after you take their station?” Binky interjected. “Do you even know what they’ll do to you once they find out what you’re doing?”

“Ahhh! That’s why I called UNIT. Anonymously, of course. They’ll chase away the Slitheen for me, which they already have, according to my mole. Now, I’m free to do what I want.”

“UNIT,” I said. “I imagine they already know about your station.”

“Hah! We’ve been constructing the station for years now, and, during all this time, they never even knew we were here.”

“How is that even possible?” Binky asked.

“Because of this.” He then brought out a little device about the size of a pack of cigarettes.

“That looks like a Slitheen cloaking device,” I said. “They’re pretty effective.”

”Indeed, it is,” the Italian said. “This one little gadget allowed me to hide our station.”

“That small, little thing?” Binky said incredulously.

“This was all we needed. The anonymity of my entire operation depends on this one little device.”

“That’s all I needed to know,” I said.

I reached out suddenly, grabbed the little box and threw it against the bulkhead. It smashed into little bits and, just for a second, the lights blinked out.

“There,” I said. “You are now visible to Earth-based radar and other detection stations.”
“Why, you…”

While he was still reacting, I reached out, grabbed my sonic from his hand and pointed it at one of the control panels on the wall.

8. All About Running In the Dark

The station’s power was turned off, but I made a slight miscalculation – since it was spin gravity, we didn’t start drifting up when we lost power, as I was intending it to, hoping to distract the people that way. So I made some slight changes in my plan.

Despite the total darkness, I knew where Binky was. It was like I had a photographic memory now. I grabbed for her hand and knocked Tomas aside. I then reached out to where the other man was and grabbed the bag with our stuff and ran through the open door. The two fumbled around in the dark, trying to grab us.

“Owww!” Binky exclaimed when she hit her shoulder on the jamb, but I didn’t stop and continued running down the hallway.

I randomly pointed my sonic to the wall, hoping to hit one of the control panels. As I waved the sonic about, I was able to trigger one of the panels. The lights and power came back on. I went to the nearest panel, punched up the satellite plans and looked for the route getting back to Bay Two.

“Stop!” one of the people that saw us yelled. Dammit!

I switched the power off again, but I was sure of my bearings now.

“Binky,” I said, “just hold onto my hand and follow my lead, okay? Don’t get scared.”

“Okay, Quinn,” she said. “I trust you.”

“Now, run!”

In complete darkness, we were actually running.

We collided into several people, however, and Binky bumped into some walls, but I didn’t let up, knowing they’d be able to turn the lights back on soon.

9. About UNIT

We were at Bay Two’s main doors when the lights finally came on. Thank goodness for that.

The people around us were starting to get their bearings but I didn’t wait for them to notice us. I slammed my hand on the Door Release, and the blast door slid open.

I pulled Binky inside, closed the door, pointed my sonic at the controls and short-circuited it. It felt good to finally be safe. But…

“Umm, Quinn…”

I looked around and found us surrounded.

Thinking quickly, I lifted my sonic again and pointed it at them. The sonic’s warbling was loud inside the landing bay.

“Don’t move!” I said, “unless you want some of this!” I waggle the sonic.

They complied, and even raised their hands.

“Okay, now move away from the phone booth!”

They backed away from my TARDIS. I opened the TARDIS’s door with my key, and we jumped in.

As soon as we were secure inside, I went to the main controls and started the TARDIS. In moments, we heard that familiar groaning noise, and we materialized back into outer space, about eighty kilometers from the station.

Binky laughed. “Would the sonic have really hurt them?” she asked.

“No,” I giggled.

Binky turned on the monitor and saw the station.

“What’s that?” Binky said, pointing to half a dozen metal slivers approaching the station.

“I imagine that would be UNIT’s missiles. I called them earlier saying I’ll take care of their cloaking.”

“Ahhh…”

A light started blinking on the panel.

“A message!”

I turned the monitor on, and a video message from the Doctor was displayed.

A blonde woman was looking at us. “Good work, Doctor Quinn. Congratulations. Now, I need you and Ms. Kristensen to go somewhere. There’s another cassette tape you need to find.”

“Dammit!” I exclaimed.

“Did the doctor regenerate?” Binky asked.

---end---

Note - The picture was a collage made from publicly accessible pictures of the Doctor Who logo, The Agent G character and other pictures: No ownership is claimed; no IP infringement is intended.

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Doctor Who? - There’s a Cat In My TARDIS!
~~by Bobbie Cabot~~

The Doctor has disappeared, but he left his newest apprentice in 21st century Earth to help the humans while he was away – this was Dr. Quinn Valentine.

But she’s having some problems with her TARDIS…

-----

Quinn had heard of UNIT, of course, both from her own research and from stories of the doctor. She was of two minds regarding UNIT. Clearly, UNIT, or the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, had played a major part in the Earth’s survival against several alien invasions in the past, and as the doctor told her, it would do so again in the future, but it had also precipitated several near-apocalyptic disasters, and it was largely because of UNIT (and a clandestine organization called Torchwood) that the ill-prepared human race was now a potential target of several belligerent races in the galaxy.

So when she got the latest “mix tape” cassette from the doctor instructing her to contact UNIT, she didn’t know whether or not she should.

Currently, her TARDIS was drifting in space, floating somewhere between the orbits of Jupiter and Saturn, safely away from people as she tried to figure out how to fix it: at the moment, her TARDIS was unable to travel through time, except linearly and moment-to-moment, just like all regular things in the regular universe. If she didn’t get this licked, maybe she should just change the name of her TARDIS to DIS or something…

“Oi,” her companion, Elizabeth “Binky” Kristensen, said, trying to get her attention, “co, what will we do? Call UNIT?”

Quinn played the cassette tape over and over, trying to understand what the doctor wanted her to do. But, as usual, the doctor was being unclear. She was left none the wiser about what the right decision was.

“Oh, what the hell!” she said, and impulsively threw a lever forward. The TARDIS then started making that characteristic groaning that meant it was moving through space-time, or, in this case, just space.

A few moments later, the red TARDIS rematerialized in a big, airplane hangar-sized space in Cardiff, which was the British headquarters of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, or “UNIT,” presently under the command of the so-called Osgood Twins, Petronella and Bonnie Osgood.

Quinn and Binky opened the TARDIS door and stepped out, and soldiers in US Marine-type uniforms immediately surrounded them.

“Doctor?” a bespectacled girl with a long knitted tartan scarf and white lab coat asked. “Is that you? Thank God! How did you know we needed your help?”

“Well,” Quinn answered, “I’m a doctor. But if you meant THE doctor, I’m sorry to disappoint.” She extended her hand. “Hi! I’m Quinn Valentine, astrophysicist, nuclear physicist, medical doctor, biochemist, history buff, amateur philologist and Spice Girls fan from the University of Cambridge, at your service.” She gestured to her companion. “This is Elizabeth Kristensen, doctoral candidate at the University of Cambridge. And you are?”

“I’m Dr. Osgood,” she said. “I run UNIT.” She shook Quinn’s hand.

“Ohmigod!” Quinn enthused. “You’re THE Osgood!” She moved closer. “Tell me, are you the human or the Zygon Osgood?” she whispered.

Osgood laughed. “What do you think?”

“I’m sorry, the doctor never told me. Anyway, how can we help you?”

“Well, I was actually hoping to talk with the doctor?”

“The doctor is currently unavailable,” Binky responded. “We’ve been assigned as his temporary substitute while he’s away.”

“While ‘she’s’ away,” Quinn corrected. “Anyway, what seems to be the trouble?”

“Wait! What do you mean ‘temporary substitute!’ What do you mean ‘assigned!’”

So Quinn and Binky went through how they, together, came to be the doctor’s “substitute.” (note to reader: for more information, please refer to the story “Doctor Who?” in “Through the Fire and the Flames - A TG Mixed Tape.”)

“So you’re telling me…” Osgood said, “that you’re…”

“Yes,” Quinn replied.

“And that is a new TARDIS?” She pointed at Quinn’s TARDIS, which looked just like a regular red telephone booth – the kind you see in London all the time.

“Yes,” Quinn replied again. “Well, it’s sort of new…”

“And you made it into another phone booth?”

“It wasn’t up to me. If it were up to me, I’d have preferred it to look like a nice Porsche or something. And the doctor’s TARDIS wasn’t a phone booth – it was a police call box.”

“Dammit!”

“Well… well… now that you know, how can Binky and I be of service to UNIT?”

“And why Binky?”

Quinn shrugged. “That’s just what I call Elizabeth. To irritate her.” She giggled. “And it’s working.”

Osgood shrugged, as if saying it wasn’t any of her business. “It’s just this, Dr. Valentine – for the past few months, people have been disappearing from the London metropolitan area. Police and local authorities have not been able to find out what’s been happening, and have not been able to track down the missing people.”

“So why are you in Cardiff?”

“And, from what we know of UNIT,” Binky continued, “that does not sound like something you folks would get involved with. It sounds more like a matter for Scotland Yard.”

“Normally, yes,” Osgood said, “but not when the missing people are several thousand already, and some of those missing people are Earth Zygons. This is just on this edge of a national disaster for Great Britain.”

Quinn and Binky looked at each other.

“Any clues?” Quinn asked.

“Well, we managed to retrieve these.” Osgood gestured, and a uniformed UNIT soldier came over pushing a cart. On top of the cart were several chrome devices that had the faint look of mechanical chrome rats.

“Quinn,” Binky asked, “are those, what do you call them, cybermats?”

“Yes, they are, Miss Kristensen,” Osgood replied for Quinn. “Don’t worry, these particular ones are deactivated. Or dead if you prefer.”

Quinn pointed her sonic screwdriver at them, and nodded. “Yep, they’re dead.”

Osgood explained that several of these cybermats were found near locations where several hundred people had disappeared. Other than that, they had found a kind of greenish-gray, viscous residue. Osgood held up a small vial containing a little of the residue.

Quinn whipped out her sonic screwdriver again and ran it over the vial. “Hmmm,” she went.

“We haven’t found out what it is,” Osgood said, “except that it’s a unique combination of amino acids, long protein chains and what curiously looks like a kind of long-chain liquid polymer.”

“Long chain liquid polymer?” Binky asked.

“She’s saying it’s a kind of liquid plastic,” Quinn explained. She looked at Osgood. “Like, maybe from the Autons?”

Osgood shook her head. “No, not the Autons.”

“May I?” Quinn gestured at the vial.

Osgood handed it over, and Quinn retreated back into the TARDIS. After a few minutes, she came back out with a computer printout that she handed over to Osgood. She had also taken the opportunity to change outfits. She now looked like some kind of marine commando, that is, if marine commandos wore tight miniskirts, high-heeled boots, fishnet stockings and bolero jackets in place of flack jackets. Prominent on her jacket was the nametag, JR DOCTOR, and she had UNIT’s official patches on her shoulders and on her beret, except hers were the defunct 70’s logo that said “United Nations Intelligence Taskforce.” She also had on insignia that showed her to be a brigadier-general in the British army.

Osgood looked at Quinn with a raised eyebrow but didn’t make a comment.

“Just ignore her,” Binky said. “It’s part of her regeneration.”

Osgood read through the printout. “It seems that residue we got is similar to the residue from the Lazarus Experiment back in 2007.”

“What’s that?” Binky asked.

“It was an experiment that the famous geneticist Dr. Richard Lazarus did in the early 2000’s, the objective of which was to extend human life by changing a person’s DNA. A high-tech equivalent to the fountain of youth.”

“Oh?” she said. “Did it work?”

“Sadly, no. It seems his process changes the human DNA so fundamentally that the person is turned into a literal monster. A murderous monster, at that.”

“Well, maybe we can ask him about it?”

Osgood shrugged. “He’s dead.”

“Oh. Bugger…”

“So what’s next?”

“Can you give us all the information you have, Doctor Osgood?”

She nodded and walked them to her office. As she showed them all that UNIT had on the matter, alarms started blaring.

“Oi!” Binky exclaimed. “What’s that?”

Osgood looked at her screen. “It’s a relay from nearby Torchwood. Seems whatever is behind the missing people, it’s followed us here to Cardiff. We’re under attack.” She lifted a phone receiver on her desk and pressed a button. “Alert Doctor Kate Lethbridge-Stewart over in Geneva HQ,” she said into the phone. “Tell her we’re under attack, and that it’s a red level emergency.”

“Show me,” Quinn said after Osgood hung up. Osgood punched a few keys and the big screen on her wall showed a video of several half-humans -- different kinds of half-humans -- outside the gates of UNIT.

At their lead were what appeared to be half-human, half-hippo hybrids. Their immense strength and bulk allowed them to knock down walls and barriers. UNIT soldiers fired several non-lethal rounds into them, but the half-hippos just shook them off.

Flanking them were what looked like half-tigers, but, later, it would be found out that they were actually half-cheetahs. These fast half-cheetahs flanked the soldiers and, using baseball bats, beat them senseless. And right behind the hippos were what appeared to be half-gorillas and other kinds of mutants.

Quinn knew enough that this was like a classic military deployment. Their “tanks” in the front to punch through the opposition’s defenses, fast flankers to pick off outlying units, and the main infantry to follow the tanks.

She knew they were in trouble.

“Dr. Osgood,” Quinn said, “is your facility supplied with standard tear gas grenades and military respirators?”

“Respirators?” Binky said.

“Gas masks.”

“Ahhh.”

“Yes, we are,” Osgood replied.

“Distribute the respirators to all your people, and show me where your cleaning supplies are.”

Osgood gave some instructions and brought Quinn and Binky to a large storage area.

Quinn grabbed several plastic containers of bleach and other bottles. “Grab some of those bottles, Binky,” she said, “and come with me.”

They went to a large storage room full of military supplies. The tear gas grenades were just in front of Dr. Osgood.

“Do you have medical supplies, too, Dr. Osgood?”

“What do you need?”

“Lots and lots of disposable hypodermics and lots of electrical tape, and as many off-duty people you can find.”

She called over a soldier and gave some orders.

“Binky,” Quinn said, “I’m gonna show you what I need you to do, and I want you to take charge of these soldiers and get them to do the same thing, okay?”

Quinn used a hypodermic and stabbed a bottle of bleach, sucked out some of it with the hypodermic, and did the same thing with several other bottles. She shook the hypodermic, injected the liquid mixture into a specific spot on one of the tear gas grenades and covered the hole with electrical tape.

“Got it?” Quinn asked. Binky nodded and, as soon as the soldiers showed up, she taught them the same thing.

As for Quinn, she went with Osgood and watched how the enemy spread through the compound. Clearly, the mutants didn’t know the layout of the compound, judging by how randomly they went through it.

“Good for us,” Quinn said. “And they haven’t broken into any of the buildings yet.”

Osgood pointed to a few really weird-looking enemy soldiers. “What kind of half-humans are those?” Osgood asked.

“Well, those aren’t half-humans,” Quinn said. “Those are half-Zygons.”

“Oh…”

Quinn’s cellphone rang and she flipped it open.

“Yeah, Binky?” Quinn answered, and Binky said all the grenades were ready.

“Okay, split the grenades into ten lots, and get your guys to bring them to the ten major entrances of the compound. People will meet them and get ready.” She hung up.

“A flip-phone?” Osgood said, laughing. “Really?”

“Hey, don’t knock my flip-phone! My flip-phone has unlimited signal. You can call anyone you want regardless of where in the universe you are. Can your fancy smartphone call people from the edge of the universe?”

Osgood looked at Quinn, mouth hanging open. She mouthed the words, “Oh my god.”

In the meantime, there were no more active UNIT personnel outside the buildings. All that were remaining were the people inside.

Osgood made sure everyone had gas masks, and she had everyone wear them, and, at her signal, the soldiers with grenade launchers started firing the modified tear gas grenades.

Each one exploded within the ranks of the mutants, and the mutants started falling down asleep, even the half-Zygons.

A few mutants weren’t gassed and they started to run. Several of the UNIT soldiers gave chase and, in less than half an hour, all the mutants were knocked out.

“Okay,” Quinn said, “in a few minutes, the gas will break down and it’ll be safe to take off the masks. Now, those mutants should be asleep for at least twelve hours. That’ll give you time to bring them all in. Make sure each one of them is in handcuffs, not just on their wrists but around their ankles as well.”

“What about the big ones?”

“Well, you’re gonna have to use rebar or something – weld them around their wrists or ankles. That’ll hold them until I can reverse their mutations. Shouldn’t be difficult actually, but I need time. Can you do that?”

“I believe so.”

“Okay, make it happen. Binky and I will go after the one who started all of this.”

Quinn brought out her flip-phone again. “Binky, meet me at the TARDIS. We’re going after Mr. Big?”

“Mr. Big? Who’s Mr. Big?”

“You know… the head honcho? The big enchilada? It’s just an expression, okay?! Oh, just get to the TARDIS!”

In a few minutes, the TARDIS materialized in the middle of an abandoned candy factory.

“A bloody abandoned factory,” Binky said. “Talk about cliché!”

Quinn giggled. “But it’s an abandoned candy factory,” she said. “That has to count for something.”

Binky snorted.

Suddenly, the factory reverberated with the sound of machine gun fire.

“Bloody hell!” Binky swore as they dove for cover. The bad guy was standing on a catwalk thirty feet up in the air, giving him a clear view of everything.

“Now what?” Binky asked.

“You know my new sonic screwdriver?” Quinn said. “It’s special.”

“How special?”

“Mine works long distance. Watch this!” She pointed it at an overhead crane fifty feet away. She pressed a button and one of the crane’s locks opened. One of the large hooks swung down and the blunt part hit whoever was firing in the face.

“Bollocks!” the bad guy cried, and they heard his machine gun clatter to the ground thirty feet below.

“Ha!” he said. “Do you think that’s all I have?” He held up what looked like a kind of rifle.

“You know what this is? This is version two-point-oh of my formula! This one is not reversible! So if I catch you with this, then you’re mine! Forever!”

He started firing his rifle, which turned out to be a kind of high-tech dart gun. The difference was, it fired gas cartridge darts like a machine gun, forcing Quinn and Binky to duck down as little darts started peppering the walls around them. The little cartridges went “pfffft!” as they injected their tiny chemical payloads into the cement.

“Ouch!” Binky cried. “Quinn! I’m hit!”

“Don’t let yourself get hit a second time,” Quinn said. She raised her sonic again. “Now, let’s see if I can be lucky a second time…”

This time, she targeted the bad guy. When she pressed the button, all of the gas cartridges in the gun were triggered at the same time causing the rifle to explode. Quinn pointed her sonic down a bit and the man’s entire supply of darts in his backpack was triggered.

“Aaahhh!” he screamed a big puff of air puffed out the pack and several darts injected their contents into his back and he collapsed. Quinn and Binky ran and climbed up to the catwalk, with Binky limping a little bit.

Then they saw the bad guy changing, but instead of changing into a half-human, half-animal hybrid, it was like he was changing over and over, like his body couldn’t decide what it wanted to be.

“Good lord,” Binky said, “is that what’s going to happen to me?”

Several weeks later, after Quinn was able to synthesize a cure, all of the victims – over three thousand of them, including about three hundred Zygons, were cured.

After they were cured, however, none of them could remember what happened.

As for the bad guy, who turned out to be an old lab assistant of Dr. Lazarus, his body continued to morph endlessly, and whatever Quinn tried, she couldn’t stop it. Quinn explained that, because of the quantities injected into him, his morphing was put into overdrive. Unfortunately, however, if the continuous morphing didn’t end soon, the man would eventually die from something she called cellular fatigue. All they could do for the guy was pray that the thing would run its course soon, and that the guy would the ordeal.

As for Binky, because the chemical used was a newer and more powerful version, Quinn couldn’t completely cure her. But at least she was able to keep Binky’s mind intact, and was able to moderate the effects of the chemical. So, although Binky wasn’t completely normal, she looked really close. That is, if one could ignore the thick, luxurious fur-like hair, the cat ears and the tail. But, with the right haircut and the right clothes, Quinn was sure Binky could camouflage them.

“Well,” Quinn thought and smiled, “At least she’s still cute.”

Quinn threw the TARDIS’ main lever and they rematerialized in Cambridge University’s main quadrangle. After all, Quinn had classes to teach, and Binky had to finish her thesis.

As the two best friends walked back to campus, Quinn couldn’t help but think of what their next adventure would be. Also, she needed to know how the Cybermen were involved in this recent incident, but she had to leave that for later.

She threw her arm over Binky’s shoulder and Binky wrapped her tail around Quinn’s waist as they walked to the main hall.

“You know,” Binky said, “I really don’t appreciate you calling me ‘Binky’ all the time…”

Quinn laughed and laughed. “Finally!” she said. “I can’t believe you lasted this long!”

---end---

Note - The picture was a collage made from publicly accessible pictures of the Doctor Who logo and other pictures. No ownership is claimed. No IP infringement is intended.

Want more Doctor Who? Then click this button.

click this button for more of Bobbie’s Little Stories