Slow but steady...

Eureka! My writing is finally moving forward! Not at the pace I'd like, but faster than it has been. And why? Well, the ever approaching deadlines of course! Ok, so the deadlines themselves are fairly arbitrary, and I could just move them back, but having something to work towards actually makes me far more productive.

As I write this, it's nearly 9am on a Sunday morning, and instead of laying in bed I'm writing because I suddenly felt the urge to. And as I write I find more ideas coming, the words tripping out of my brain and onto the page with ease. I've written nearly 500 words in less than an hour and it's a great feeling! Pouring out all these thoughts onto a blank page is doing me good, and the more I write, the more I want to write. It's a kind of therapy, and once I get started, I find it very difficult to stop!

Just under a week to go for this one, then after that another week for another one. And at some point during all this time my second child is due to be born! Another incentive to get these stories finished as quickly as possible because they'll be the last thing on my mind when that happens.

Procrastination has been banished for now. Hello productivity! I hope you enjoy your stay...

Time is not what it was

So, last time I boldly proclaimed that I would have 3 - yes 3! - stories written by month's end. And how many are done, finished, ready to go? A big fat zero. Sure, I've done some work on them all, but so little as to be almost imperceptible to the naked eye. Not good. Time, it seems, doesn't work as it once did.

I've always, always found that last minute is best. Ok, so maybe not in every aspect of life, but certainly when it comes to the written word.Yes, this does hark back somewhat to my last post, the procrastination factor being the dominant element in me actually getting to putting words down. However, I'd like to lay the blame on time as the partner in crime of procrastination. Last time I blamed the internet, but it can't be solely responsible for my lack of productivity. Time seems to be swallowed up by so many other things these days which comes with the territory in being a married father of (almost) two. Yet I can't blame that side of life - it's what keeps me going - but rather my own inability to judge time.

Two hours ago my brain was thinking, "Right, now we've got time to do some writing! This is it!". Yet reality then overcame me. Yes, I had the house to myself (the perfect time!), but I hadn't factored in having a bath, having breakfast, all those other things that need to be done. Time just gets swallowed! And now, I find myself back here once again. More putting off!

But no more! This here is where I make a stand! One story will be finished in the next 5 days - by Tuesday one will done. No more procrastinating! I'm going to get right to it...after that cup of tea....

A blank canvas

At the moment, this page is like a void. A big, blank white void waiting to be filled with words. Only now it's not, as I've written some. The problem I have though is getting started. I see a blank, white screen and my brain immediately turns to mush. I mean I have ideas, plenty of them! When I was just getting back into writing earlier this year, ideas were the problem - or rather a surfeit of them was the problem. Now that my brain is wired back into writing mode I don't have that problem. The issue now is getting started in the first place.

What I did for a while was to write a little bit every day; and for a while it worked. Even if it was just a hundred words or so, the story started to write itself and before I knew it I'd finished the thing! A few thousand words in a handful of days...but now I just can't seem to get started. However, I think I've narrowed down the problem.

I used to write in my teens in the mid-nineties, and then I was still establishing my style, trying to get to grips with all the complexities that writing brings with it. I wrote little bits here and there, my problem then being having too many ideas and wanting to start writing a new one immediately. Consequently, very little of what I wrote was ever finished, and most of what did is now lost in the ether. The bits and pieces I've still got and have read through are interesting: here and there amongst all the feverishly rushed prose there are little glimmers of how my writing looks now. It's quite encouraging to see that even back then I had the love for writing that I do now, and I'm glad that I've built upon it to become more confident in myself and my own abilities.

However, I digress - and that's exactly the point! I could procrastinate at a national level, maybe international, if I tried. But I'd be too busy procrastinating. Hamlet was an amateur compared to me! I could do things last minute until the cows came home (and I'd only just finish as the farm gate was closing after the last one). Back in the mid-nineties, there was less distraction, but now while I'm writing I have the cursed tool I'm using to write these very words to blame: the internet.

My own willpower is not as strong as some people. "Don't open the internet browser!" they say, but I can't help it. I'll go looking for something, and hours later emerge with few words written and a completely different something to the one I was originally looking for! Even while writing this post I did it! And made a phone call. Next will be the obligatory toilet break, followed by a cup of tea/coffee, and the whole cycle start again.

So, I'm going to set myself a task. I've got three stories to write in the immediate future, and I'm going to have them all done by the end of the month. Every one. Well, one needs to be done by next Saturday, so that's a good start. This here blog will be my procrastination, and I shall update it with my progress as I go.

Right, deep breath, and off I go. Wish me luck....

The Man from Beyond

It's been months since I put anything up here, so I thought I'd share this 11^th Doctor tale that I wrote a while back for a series that never happened. I'm hoping to get some more writing up here soon too, and I'm in the process of setting up a review website too (which I'll link to from here when it's ready).

So, enjoy this little bit of fun. Nothing groundbreaking, but entertaining enough I hope!

The Man from Beyond

Dear Sirs,

    I enclose for your perusal another extract from the diary I have recently unearthed and hope that the contents of the piece can be used in the biography. As you are well aware, the research in this case have been exhaustive, and you can clearly see this in the draft I have previously provided.

    The nature of this particular piece is somewhat different to those which I have brought to your attention before, but is if anything, of even greater significance because of this.

    I trust you will give it your due care and consideration, and find it worthy of inclusion within the greater text (complete with commentary by myself naturally).

    Yours faithfully,

    A. Ravenstock Esq.

 

 

April 27th 1900 – London

    So, it started a few hours ago. I'd just finished a show – the Palace theatre – having managed to extricate myself once again from the clutches of the law (only for show, I hasten to add!), and was leaving by the stage door, when I was accosted by a member of the audience. Now, for me, this was a shock – I mean, I've only been here a few weeks – but he seemed very happy to see me.

     "Mr Houdini, I'm so pleased to meet you." He was a small man and little more than a boy, and I was pleased enough to accept any compliment that I was given.

    "Did you, enjoy the show?" I was slightly taken aback, and it seemed the most natural thing to ask.

    He nodded graciously, and if I wasn't mistaken, it seemed to me that he was either in awe or afraid.

    "Are you alright? You seem a little...nervous," I offered.

    "I was hoping, sir, that you could help me with something. It's my wife you see, she's disappeared."

    I was by this time slightly puzzled. "Why did you come to me? Surely the police would be your best option. I'm no Sherlock Holmes!"

    The young man laughed nervously, then continued. "I've tried them, but they say that they can't help me, that I'm making it all up."
    Again, I was more than a little puzzled, so I asked the inevitable. "Why would they think that?"

    "We went to see another show, see, and well, my wife she volunteered to help with one of his tricks. She steps into this box he's got on stage, and when he opens it, she's gone!"

    I smiled inwardly, knowing exactly what must have happened, then remembering the seriousness of the guy's predicament, I realised something must have gone wrong. "So, she vanished, and you've not seen her since?"

    He nodded once more. "And this was three days past, sir. I thought, what with you being in the same business, maybe you'd have an idea where she might be."

    I scratched my head. I was as vexed as the poor chap who had come to me. I wasn't really sure that I could be of any use to him, but I felt that I couldn't abandon him completely. I got him to write a name and where I could contact him on a slip of paper, and he gave me the address of the theatre his wife had vanished from, along with a small and rather crumpled picture of her.

    "I can't promise anything, but I'll do what I can."

    He shook my hand vigorously, thanking me numerous times before he left. It was only after he'd gone that I realised I'd not even asked his name! I looked at the piece of paper – smudged! Still, the address was legible.

    

    I decided to proceed to the Garrick Theatre, the place where the disappearance had occurred. It was when I arrived there that events took a turn for the strange. I made my entrance by an open side door (unusual in itself since the place seemed locked and empty from the front).

    Walking in, I noticed that the gas lamps were lit, which again struck me as peculiar, since it was – to all intents and purposes – after hours. I walked through the narrow back stage area, winding my way through the maze of corridors. As I neared the stage, I heard a voice. Male.

    "Oh, come now Pond, where's your sense of adventure!"

    He was obviously talking to an accomplice. Where these the abductors of the missing women? Or merely common thieves?

    Then came the other voice. Surprisingly, it was female.

    "I think I left it back in the tardis, along with the rest of me. It was the middle of the night, and some of us do need to...oh...what's the word again...? Oh right, SLEEP!" The missing woman? Surely not. All this talk of sleep and tardis (whatever that was). I didn't think they were from London. Certainly they were unlike any natives of the city I'd come across in my limited time here so far.

    I stumbled slightly, causing a nearby hat-stand to topple to the floor. I knew then that I couldn't remain hidden any longer, the two voices aware that of my presence.

    "Did you hear that? That might be the very person we're after." A pause. "Alright, show yourself!" The man held out a metal rod, glowing green at one end. Some kind of trick – perhaps he was indeed the man I'd been seeking.

    I stepped out, somewhat reluctantly, clearing my throat as I did so.

    The man turned to look at me. He seemed to have an abundance of dark hair, and was somewhat eccentrically dressed – though his ensemble was somewhat complimented by the bow-tie he wore around his neck. His companion – the female - was undeniably attractive, her flame –coloured hair framing her pale yet beautiful face. She was curiously underdressed, her slender long legs on show for all to see. It was not a sight I was accustomed to, and was somewhat taken aback at first, something that must have been obvious.

    "Ah, company. Right." He turned to the girl. "He seems rather taken with you Amy. I did warn you about clothing didn't I? I said..."

    "Yes, alright Doctor. There were more pressing issues at the time, remember?" She looked to her colleague, who replied while still looking in my direction.

    "Yes...quite. Who are you?" It was only after a few seconds that I realised he was talking to me.

    I coughed more, thinking carefully about what to say first. I settled on, "Maybe I should ask you the same thing? The place was closed up, so you've broken in too."

    The man clasped his hands together in front of him. "Very true. I think I'd have said the same. Well I did say the same. What I meant was that if I were me think I'd have said the same. Well I did say the same. What I meant was that I if were you I'd have said the same, but I'm not I'm me." He extended a hand. "The Doctor." A cough came from the female. "And Amy Pond. Pleased to meet you, Mr...?"

    I took his hand and shook it. "Houdini. Harry Houdini. Well, that's how folks know me these days anyway."

    The Doctor's face appeared to light up in front of me. "Of course!" It was as if he should have know who I was. "We haven't met yet! Well, we have and we haven't." I must have shown the confusion on my face – for I was truly bewildered! – as he then added, "No. Right. Don't...worry...about...that." He looked back to the girl, Amy. "Well, Pond, do you want to explain what we're doing here or shall I?"

    She held up a hand. "I think it might be a good idea if I handle it. You've just confused him!"

    "Right. Good. Ok...the floor is yours!" He moved aside, holding out the glowing stick from earlier, moving it around the room once more, a high pitched hum coming from it. My attention came back to Amy as she started to talk.

    "So, there've been some 'unusual occurrences' in London lately, and the Doctor and I, we're like...private investigators...like Holmes and Watson." I barely suppressed a chuckle as she pointed to herself as she said 'Holmes' and to the Doctor as she said 'Watson'.

    Behind Amy, an exclamation of surprise came from the Doctor. He beckoned me over to a tall box, the kind used for the disappearing acts that took place in this theatre. "Mr Houdini, Harry. Can I call you Harry? Good. Well, the thing is – what do you make of this box?"

    I stepped up to examine it. It seemed an ordinary enough wooden construction, used for these sorts of acts. I said as much to the Doctor, or rather was about to, when I noticed a very faint hum, like the sort that a very small piece of machinery might make. I pressed my ear to the box. "It's more than wood. There's some kind of mechanism in here!"

    The Doctor nodded. "Exactly what I thought, only....only I can seem to find anything in it." He paused, then restarted as a thought struck him. "Unless I step in it. Something more suited to a glamorous assistant, but no offence Amy, but this could be very, very dangerous."

    She was very quick to reply. "That never usually stops you! Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

    The Doctor looked to me then to Amy. "Complete cellular disruption. Atom by atom taken apart, and maybe not put back together, OR put back together in a very random, very unpleasant fashion." He gave a small smile. "I'll give it a go though. Give anything a go once." With that, and without myself or Amy able to stop him, he stepped into the box.

    Silence.

    Minutes seemed to pass, but it can't have been more than a few seconds before we heard the Doctor's voice once more.

    "It's all right! Just a little bit stuck this end. Need a hand!"

    My mind was all of a muddle – this end of what? He'd merely stepped into an illusionist's cabinet, a small one at that. There wouldn't have been much of an end to be stuck in. I moved around to the front of the cabinet, peering in to see if the Doctor was within.

    Empty.

    I looked to Amy, though what she said made little sense. "I know, very confusing, but it's probably just some kind of matter transport, teleport, sort of thing."

    I had no clue of the meaning of her words, but just then, from out of the air came the Doctor's voice once more. "Harry! Very confusing, but it's just a kind of matter transport, teleport, sort of thing.....which you have no idea about. Step in and you'll see what I mean!"

    I had absolutely no reason to trust these people, yet the Doctor's voice was oddly reassuring. I did as I was bid and stepped into the box, though I was sure I had stepped into another room. As I moved into it, I found myself bump into the Doctor, pushing him from whatever had stuck him where he was.

    I moved forward, and the Doctor turned round and shook my hand. I, however, was mesmerised by my surroundings. The room was vast and completely white , as if I'd died and this was my heaven. I saw other people standing there, the Doctor smiling as if everything was alright. And it seemed alright, as if everything was at peace.

    "I'm only young Doctor, but is this it? Is this death? I'm not afraid."

    The Doctor was busy waving his glowing stick around once more, this time concentrating it on something in the corner. A mechanical something, lots of buttons and levers, and things I didn't understand.

    " Dead? No, you've got a packed life to lead yet Harry. This here is the flight deck of a spacecraft, probably in orbit around the Earth. The teleport here has malfunctioned slightly, meaning these people," he gestured at those around him, and I recognised one as the wife of the man who'd come to see me, "have been stuck up here, when they should have been able to beam straight back down after the trick was done. AH!"

    I rushed over to him, thinking he must be in some kind of anguish, but he turned and grinned and said, "Done it! All fixed, mystery solved and in record time too!"

    He ushered the half a dozen people to the corner of the room, and each disappeared one by one. He shouted to Amy as he did so. "Are they coming through alright? No missing arms, legs, heads?"

    Her voice – Scottish? – came back through the air. "All fine Doctor. Is that all of them?"

    I didn't hear the reply, I was too busy marvelling at the sights around me, such wonders I could use in my own acts. The Doctor shook his head, as if reading my very thoughts. "Harry, you don't need all this! You do much better without it, will do much better without it, I'm sure."

    I sighed. "But Doctor, all this, this surely could make me a sensation!"

    "Your people, this planet, isn't ready for this yet."

    Before I could utter a response, he had pushed me back into the transporter, and seconds later we were both back in the theatre. The Doctor turned, made his tool light up and hum, and the box was silent.

    The people standing around us looked bewildered and unbelieving, as if what they had seen and where they had been was not quite real to them. Yet I knew that it was, some vision of the future.

    I strode up to the Doctor, thoughts and words colliding in my head. "Remarkable Doctor! The future – right there! I sense the moment approaching, the time when..." He stared at me strangely. "Was it something I said?" He held my gaze briefly, then shook his head.

    I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to face Amy. She looked up at me, wondrous eyes in that beauteous face. "I know, it's a lot to try to understand. The universe is a big old place though Harry. Between you and me, I don't think we're meant to understand all of it." She winked, and gave me a smile that lit up my heart. It was tinged with sadness also, as I knew that I probably would never see either of them again.

    The Doctor was checking over all of those people who'd returned and sending them on their way. Overhearing small amounts of conversation, it seemed that they remembered very little of what had occurred.

    Soon, it was myself, the Doctor and Amy left, and Miss Pond seemed to have questions for the Doctor – questions which I was keen to hear the answers of too.

    "So, what happened to whatever was flying the spacecraft? And...what did you do to it?"

    "Well," the Doctor began, "as for the original occupant, it's either dead or fled – or maybe both." Amy looked as if she were about to speak again, but the Doctor raised a finger to stop her before she could begin. "And no. Whoever was performing and using the matter transmitter had no idea what they were doing, so they'd obviously just stumbled across it." He paused once more. "They'll get a hell of a shock when their act doesn't go as planned tomorrow evening!"

    I was still confused, not really understanding the nature of the place we had visited, but I decided upon hazarding a guess all the same. "So, that 'spacecraft', it's some kind of vessel for travelling between worlds?" The idea seemed ridiculous, like something from the fictions of Mr Wells.

    "Not bad Harry, not bad at all! Good to keep an open mind on these things – remind Herbert that if you come across him, won't you?" Again, it was as if he'd read my thoughts – though talking of Mr Wells in this way...were they friends? Colleagues? I was more baffled than ever.

    Amy coughed, and pointed to a tall blue cabinet in the corner. "Time to get going Doctor?"

    The Doctor smiled once more and extended a hand in my direction. "Yes, quite. Thank you, Harry. See you again. Or before. Or..." He began walking to the cabinet, and Amy, after giving me a small kiss on the cheek (which made my heart flutter once more) followed him into it.

    "An illusion of your own?" I called after them.

    The doors were shut, but I heard the Doctor call out, "Remember Harry, an open mind!"

    With that, an unearthly grating sound filled the air, wind whipping around the theatre causing dust to fly in all directions. A light atop the cabinet blinked on and off several times, and the box itself appeared to disappear completely from view. As it faded away for the last time, I looked around me, wondering how it was done, though coming to no firm solution. Instead, I did what I would have done at witnessing any great trick.

    I applauded.

 

Dear Mr Ravenstock,

    The writings you present to us seem to be a work of a fiction, though whether your own or your subject's we are unable to ascertain. Should there be a degree of authenticity to them, and they are indeed the work of your subject, then perhaps we could publish them with others (are there indeed any similar?) as fancies by the great man.

    I am unable to comprehend how you – a learned man – could believe such stories to be true, but should you wish us to include these writings, we shall need to talk further on the matter as to how we could proceed with these.

    I have been contacted by an individual regarding the nature of the mention of this 'Doctor'. I am under the impression he is from some branch of the United Nations, though how or why the fictions are of interest to the UN I am thoroughly baffled. Perhaps it is a matter of copyright, but we shall have to clear that up in the meantime.

    I look forward to your reply,

    Yours,

    T.M. Hathenthwaite (and Partners).

 

 

 

 

Liz Shaw in a Big Finish attempt...

Now I've put one up, I thought I may as well stick this one up too. I quite like it, a little bit of Liz Shaw adventure told in the first person. A bit short (not my choice), a bit complex perhaps, but not the worst thing I've ever written. Enjoy it for what it is!

To All Intents and Purposes

It was the strangest of days. The weather was fluctuating, the air was still and UNIT HQ was the quietest it had been in some time. The Brigadier was sitting in his office, idly thumbing though paperwork that had required his immediate attention several days ago.

    The Doctor was fiddling with components he had taken from the TARDIS, attempting some complex procedure I was unsure of. He was always claiming that old police box was a time machine. Waste of time machine would be more appropriate, I thought. However, where the Doctor was concerned, anything was possible. It wouldn't have surprised me if it really could travel in time and space, but I'd believe it when I saw it.
    Sergeant Benton was putting the privates through their paces in the grounds, something to keep them occupied on this non-eventful day.
    No one seemed themselves, least of all me. I can never recall ever being so thoroughly disenchanted with the activities of a top secret organisation as I was on this day. So, being undeniably bored, and not wishing to infect anyone else with my own particularly ennui , I decided to take matters into my own hands.

    The file had been sent to the Doctor, but he rarely gave a second glance to anything that the Brigadier placed on his desk. The pile more often than not would teeter over onto the floor, much to the Brigadier's consternation. The Doctor had started to place a waste paper bin underneath his workbench, thereby saving him the bother of having to retrieve the mess and file it away himself.
    This one I took from the top of the pile, the Doctor far too engrossed with his tinkering with the TARDIS console to be even slightly aware of what I was doing. I passed him what looked like some kind of wrench, receiving a mumbled 'thank you Liz' for the effort, then walked out of the lab, the Doctor completely oblivious.

    I leafed through the notes, trying to decipher the scrawl of handwriting. The one thing that I could make out were rather thorough details of the location of whatever it was that had been reported. I had little clue as to what the event or occurance was, but since I was at least going to be able to find whatever it was, I thought it best just to head there and find out for myself exactly what had been reported.

    I took a staff car, some rather basic vehicle that fulfilled its function adequately. It wasn't much to look at, but I was trying to keep somewhat of a low profile. The directions were fairly easy to read, though I did have to stop at least a couple of times to ascertain if I needed to take one particular road or a similarly named one very nearby. The roads were clear, everyone otherwise engaged, as unsure as I was as to what the weather was going to do next.
    The end of the trail stopped at the edge of Stapler's Wood, some 15 miles away from UNIT HQ. There didn't appear to be anything outwardly unusual about the place, but I had that strange feeling again, the feeling that something wasn't as it ought to be. That in itself was an instinct I had learnt to hone in my short time working alongside the Doctor, and I knew when an event was that little bit more unusual than normal. Of course, this was UNIT's business, dealing with those occurances that were 'unusual'. Yet this seemed more than that, precisely as I had no idea what I was letting myself in for, and no one was there to ward me off should I become ensnared in untoward activity.
    Regardless, I pressed on, venturing a short distance into the wood where a small – presumably a park keeper's – wooden hut sat. Nothing marked it out as anything extraordinary, it was merely slats of wood fixed together, completely unremarkable. The light in this part of the forest was beginning to dim now, so the structure itself appeared as some sort of monolith, yet I knew that it was nothing of the sort. Nevertheless, I approached it with caution, my vision not completely sure of what was in front of my eyes anymore. My head began to feel heavy, a strange fuzziness pervading my senses, and I felt compelled to sit amongst the leaf litter on the ground.
    I closed my eyes, my blinking seeming to slow as if time itself were grinding to a halt. The light around me appeared to fade and rise at intervals, the 'hut' that I had seen beginning to shift and blur its shape and colour, as if refining itself to something I wanted to see. I could smell a faint metallic scent in the air, yet had no idea as to what caused it.
    I forced my eyelids open and gazed around me. The wood looked very different, as if the world had been shaken by some tremendous force, throwing random elements together and placing them in this acre of land. Beside me was what seemed to be a small fortress, constructed of some kind of metal, the like of which I hadn't seen before. It looked smooth and cold, as metal usually does, but as I reached out towards it – my hand not quite touching it – I felt a strange warmth from it.
    I picked myself up, and looked further around me, noticing that the metal structure was not the only feature which had not been there before. As I gazed upward, it seemed as if I were encased in a giant bell jar, the kind taxidermists used to show off their 'prizes'. A vast glass dome stretched high up into the sky, upwards towards the seeming never-ending blackness.
    I realised with some alarm that I wasn't in the same place I had been moments ago. To my left I was able to make out the cratered surface of what I knew to be the moon – Earth's moon – and past that, slightly further out, was the larger blue and green sphere of Earth itself.
    The ground beneath my feet was transparent, and I saw with horror that I appeared to be standing in space itself, somehow not falling or dying. The look on my face must have been a sight to behold since the reaction from the person standing in front of me was an attempt to reassure me that everything was alright.
    "An enclosed environment with a breathable atmosphere. You're quite safe." The speaker's face looked old, yet somehow I could see that he was of a similar age to me. He looked human, but my instinct told me that he couldn't have been.
    I extended my arm in spite of myself. "Thank you. I'm Doctor..." but before I could finish, I was interrupted.
    "I know. We've been expecting you Doctor." He paused, obviously waiting for a response. "I am Volnic."
    I was puzzled, having no clue as to why this person should have known I was coming, when suddenly it clicked into place – he was expecting the Doctor. Since the Doctor was an alien, it made sense that he would have contact with other aliens, beyond those which we had dealt with at UNIT.
    I decided to play along – he obviously had no idea as to what the Doctor looked like. Even if he had, the Brigadier has told me that he could change his appearance, so why shouldn't it have changed since he had met this person last?
    "Yes. I believe you have." I hoped my confident tone had covered up my initial puzzlement. "I assume that there is something that I can do for you? Something I can assist with?" I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but decided to continue the charade all the same.
    Volnic walked to the edifice standing over us, and opened a small concealed entrance, beckoning me forward. I watched him (I assumed it was a he) recede inside, and proceeded to follow him at speed, for fear of losing him. Part of me was concerned about my being somewhere above the Earth, but not once did I fear about returning to it. Somehow I assured myself that everything would be fine.
    Inside the structure, the ceiling was vast, a purple crystalline network of fibres and strands interlocking like a maze of spiders' webs. I found myself staring in awe at the intricacy of the design, though had to remember that I was – to all intents and purposes – the Doctor, and that he would be probably be completely unfazed by it all (especially if he had been here before).
    I continued onwards, catching sight once more of Volnic. The building seemed to be one vast chamber seemingly unending due to its vastness. However after not much longer I could discern the far end where a throne sat on a raised dais on which appeared to be an emaciated figure, clad in heavy robes.
    The figure reached out a withered hand, gesturing for me to approach. Volnic nodded that I should. Despite being in no way knowledgeable about the customs of these people, there was a reverential air about the room and I felt compelled to bow before the figure, suddenly realising that this was a female. In her eyes I saw a deep sadness, as if some great tragedy had befallen her.
    As I looked into them, I found myself unable to move, and what felt like fingers probing my mind, rooting through my thoughts and memories. At first it felt slightly intrusive, but without any real pain. It was strange, but at once beautiful and gentle, a feeling that I hadn't felt for some time. As I watched, transfixed, I noticed subtle differences in her face. Her skin was beginning to smooth, very slowly, but a definite change as if she were aging backwards.
    Then the pain began to make itself felt, a sudden prickling sensation across my face coupled with a slight rising in my body temperature. My medical training enabled me to rationalise what was happening, causing me to realise that I needed to do something in order to prevent myself collapsing. Regulate breathing Elizabeth, I told myself. Try to ignore the pain, concentrate on the breathing. I began to theorise what might be happening, and the likelihood – though improbability – of my becoming as gaunt as the figure before me had originally been.
    In spite of this struggle and my inability to avert the direction of my eyes, part of my brain become aware of other activity taking place in the room, hearing snatches of a conversation. It couldn't be, could it? Could the Doctor have followed me here somehow? Using as little of my mind as I could spare without giving up on the mental battle that was now taking place, I tried to listen in.
    "You need a mind, don't you? Well you've got the wrong person. The wrong Doctor." It was him, wasn't it?
    I heard the alien, Volnic reply. "We have the Doctor. Her mind is proving very useful to our illustrious Mother. All the knowledge she possesses, all the capability of renewal of body and mind, unlocking the mysterious of the boundless universe..."
    Concentrate Liz. Don't let it
defeat you, whatever it is, whatever it wants. DO NOT LET IT WIN. I began to wonder if these were my thoughts or the Doctor's. I was sure he was here, somehow aiding in this struggle.
    A light cough in the distance then, "I'm sorry to disappoint old chap, but I am the Doctor."
    The grip on my mind loosened, and I felt able to look away from the creature at last, watching as its skin began to lose the lustre that it had gained since it had attacked my mind. I felt the pain seeping away, and raised a hand to my own face. It felt aged, someway towards how the female had looked, but now smoothing back to my regular complexion.
    I immediately turned my head around, looking in the direction of the Doctor, who was standing tall beside Volnic, whose face was now curled into a snarl. As he spoke, his words poured forth like venom at the Doctor.
    "Our race is dead Doctor, you were to be our salvation - the means to restore our glorious empire."
    The Doctor seemed faintly amused at first, but any hint of compassion or joy quickly evaporated from his face. "I've met your kind far too many times before, all across time and space, and nothing is ever any different. You all want the same thing - to live forever, to rule forever." He shook his head. "It has to end. Death, and rebirth. It's what creation thrives on – evolution."
    Volnic shook with feeling, an almost pitiful figure now. "We survive Doctor, we must survive."
    The Doctor parried verbally with speed. "But you're parasites, vampires. It's not survival, it's not existence. It's wrong." The Doctor looked in my direction. "Hello Liz. How are you feeling?"
    I took a moment, daring to look briefly behind me, to the figure on the throne. Little remained of her now, the body looking desiccated, a husk with little or no life left in it. "A little shaken, but getting better Doctor."
    He nodded, then turned back to Volnic. "Your queen," he indicated the figure behind me, "is gone. Nothing left but rags and ashes. You, you have a choice."
    Volnic shook his head and walked slowly to the throne. "No Doctor," he whispered, "there is no choice left to me now."
    A look of surprise crossed the Doctor's face, but he seemed to understand what was about to happen. "Liz," he called, "I hope you have enough strength left to run."
    I needed no further encouragement. I didn't know why we needed to escape quickly, but when the Doctor implied something it was unwise to question it. Within moments we found ourselves outside of the building, back in the vast bell-jar like space I had arrived in.
    The Doctor pulled a metallic object out of his jacket. "Simple teleportation system Liz. A little crude, but easy to operate if you know how. We'd better be quick, this ship is about to explode. Now hold on this might be a little..."
    I closed my eyes...and opened them to find the wood once more.
    "...bumpy."
    I smiled, thankful he had arrived when he did. "Thank you."
    "Well," the Doctor smiled back "let's say no more about it."
    I never did find out how he knew where I was, and how he managed to reach me in time, but then as with most things were the Doctor is concerned, it was best not to ask.

The Heaven Machine

On the advice of someone wiser than me, I thought that I would set up another blog for more of my scribblings to go – properly formatted and (hopefully) easier to read. So, here is hopefully the first of a few, the first part of a two part story (the second part of which doesn't exist other than in note form at present) for someone else's series that hasn't come to pass.
Have a read, I hope you enjoy, and please use the link to hop back to gallifreybase and pass comment and/or vote. Many thanks!

 

The Heaven Machine

    

    "Gentlemen, if I may have your attention."

    The speaker had to shout. The lack of anything resembling a public address system was one of the many things that he despised about the place. No matter, he thought, they'll soon quieten down when they see it.
    It took a few moments, but the assembled crowd settled into their seats and looked to the speaker. They could see in front of him a metal case with wires extruding from its sides.
    He looked around at the silent faces in front of him, deliberately pausing before starting his speech. In his head he counted down, 3....2.....1...and....
    "This here," he tapped on the case, "this is victory!" Still silence, the crowd either disbelieving or awestruck by what they were witnessing. "It has taken so long to complete, so very long. Many good people have been lost, many close to us taken away. Yet this...this means that they were not taken for nothing. Behold!" he held up the box, "our salvation!"
    At this juncture the crowd cheered as if a contest had already been won and they were the rightful victors.
    The speaker had to shout now to be heard. "I'm not here to rewrite history, I'm here to be the author of the future." The noise in the chamber increased. The speaker held the case aloft, pressing a small button on its underside. "I call it...the Heaven Machine!"
    As he spoke, depressing the button, the case began to open, and a blinding light enveloped the room.

    Silence.

   

******

    It looked like a perfectly ordinary beach on any planet, in any galaxy. The tide lapped against the golden sand, the sun casting its joyful gaze across the idyllic looking scene. A gentle breeze blew the leaves of the trees that lined the seashore, distant birdsong could be heard by anyone who chanced this way.
    Peaceful. Tranquil even.
    Until...
    The wind gradually began to grow in intensity, blowing the leaves around with a force that was sure to dislodge them if it continued. The birdsong was drowned out by what sounded like something tearing the very fabric of space and time apart. Indeed, that was exactly what was happening, as the unmistakable shape of the TARDIS ground in and out of reality, its light appearing first, flashing in time with the materialisation of the time ship. With a heavy thud, it solidified, and the leaves settled once more.
    A slow creak accompanied the door opening, and the Doctor poked his head out, peering at the surroundings. Cautiously, he stepped outside and jumped up and down. Amy looked at him curiously from the doorway.
    "Hey jumpy, what you doing?"
    The Doctor stopped. "I was jumping Pond. Up and down...you know, jumping!"

    Amy rolled her eyes. After all this time, he hadn't changed. "I know that, but why....no wait, don't tell me..."

    "....to test the gravity." They said it in unison. The Doctor looked slightly affronted. "Well, why did you ask if you knew why? Besides," his face broke into a smile, "lovely spot!"
    Amy stepped back into the TARDIS.
    The Doctor looked around confused, before Amy reappeared with a large sombrero, a towel and a bucket and spade. "There, perfect beach...stuff!"
    "Aha! But Amy Pond, we are missing one very important thing." The Doctor whirled around, scanning in both directions. "Ice cream! Can't beat an ice cream at the beach!" The Doctor licked his finger and stuck it in the air. "Yes," he pointed to the left, "definitely this way."
    Sighing, Amy trudged after him. Then stopped. Standing next to a tree she was sure she could hear a faint humming noise. She pressed her ear to it. "Doctor!" He was a few metres ahead, and Amy wasn't sure if he'd heard her or merely noticed she wasn't right behind him. He came bounding up to her. "Listen. Sounds like...humming...some kind of machinery maybe?"
    The Doctor wore a puzzled look. "Machinery? In a tree? Are you quite mad..." He stopped, then, "Oh." He turned to Amy. "This tree is humming!"
    Again, she rolled her eyes. "I know! That's what I said!"
    "No, no, no, trees don't hum they...they just don't! So..." He produced his sonic screwdriver from inside his jacket pocket, waving it over the bark of the tree. He tapped at the bark, pressing his ear to it.
    Amy tapped him on the shoulder, and he whirled round to face her. "Well? Is it or is it not a tree?" she asked.
    The Doctor paused before he spoke again, fiddling with a catch on the screwdriver. He looked up at Amy. "Yes and no." He held up a finger to silence her before she gave the inevitable remark. "Externally, yes. Internally it's a machine. If I can calibrate the settings..." The screwdriver hummed and clicked several times as the Doctor cycled through its various functions. Suddenly a click from behind him let him know he'd found exactly what he was looking for. A small section of the bark had swung open, revealing a set of controls, numerous wires extending outwards from them.
    "Aha!" He prodded the screwdriver into the nest of cables. "Just as I thought –"
    He spun back around, and was surprised to see Amy was no longer there, and his surroundings had changed considerably. He was stood, alone, in a low-lit metal corridor.
    "-a rudimentary teleport system."

*****

A bright light had flared up from the 'tree', and when it had gone, so too had the Doctor. Amy stood, bewildered for a second, before understanding that the Doctor's probing had obviously tripped some kind of circuit within the machinery.
    "Only with you is a beach not a beach – now it's a desert island!" Her frustration lasted all of the few seconds it took to kick the sand four or five times before realising there was little she could achieve.
    "Right Amy, calm down, focus. What would the Doctor do?" She paused. "No, what would I do?" She looked back to the TARDIS, and started the journey back. There was bound to be something that would be able to find the Doctor, surely?
    As Amy mused on just how exactly she was going to locate the errant Time Lord, she noticed the unnaturally still sea was now beginning to ripple slightly. She stared out at the water, the ripples dramatically increasing in size within moments.
    "Ok. So, do I stay and wait for whatever it is to possibly eat or kidnap or God knows what to me? Or...run!" Not wishing to find out exactly what the thing was, she turned and began to pick up her pace towards the time machine.
    She'd only moved a couple of steps as the vehicle forced its way out and onto the beach, huge caterpillar treads narrowly avoiding running her down.
    "Oookay. So, now a bloody great tank drives out of the sea, and typically the Doctor isn't here!"
    A door opened on the side of the vehicle, and several similarly attired figures stepped out. They were covered in emerald-coloured metallic body armour, save for their heads which remained free of any adornment.
    It was what they did next that gave Amy slight cause for concern, each saluting her and then kneeling in turn. The first to have exited the vehicle, a small but well built man with thinning hair, approached Amy.
    He extended a hand. "Miss Pond! An honour to see you again!"
    Amy paused slightly before taking it, though realising that it would be safer to shake the hand, she did so. "And you, too, erm..."
    The man looked puzzled for a moment, then suddenly broke into a smile and laughed, pointing a finger jovially in Amy's direction. "Ah, Miss Pond, that sense of humour again. Very good, very good!"
    Amy smiled politely in return and watched as three other figures left the craft. Two other males and a female, all around average build, all saying nothing. She looked back at the man in front of her and gestured to the beach. "So, you're here then! Just like we said?" Even she was confused, not really knowing why she'd said it, but it seemed to be exactly what was required.
    "Of course! Commander Davis Morley is always punctual if nothing else."
    Right, thought Amy, I have a name now. But how does he know me?

*****

    "Ok, low lighting, metal walls...I'm getting an underground bunker kind of vibe here." The Doctor started walking along the corridor, waving the Sonic around as he did so. "Yep, definitely some kind of base. No siege yet though, so that's something. Ah!" He stopped, as the muzzle of a gun was pointed in his face by a less than impressed figure standing directly in front of him. "Would you mind pointing that another way, I'm allergic to bullets." The figure lowered the weapon slightly, but kept it trained on the Doctor.
    From behind the figure with the gun stepped a lean man dressed in what appeared to be a white lab coat. He gestured for the gun to be lowered and approached the Doctor.
    "Apologies for the misunderstanding. You can't be too careful though. Professor Wilby, and you are...?"
    The Doctor rubbed his hands together. "Yes I am...very confused. Did you know you have a malfunctioning teleport system on this planet? I'm assuming we're still on the same one...but really it needs some work doing to it. Any old idiot with a Sonic Screwdriver could wander in here."
    Wilby cracked a rictus grin. "Quite. The transmit device was not malfunctioning, rather it isn't in day to day use." He paused. "It's not widely talked of, and I'd prefer it if it remained that way."
    The Doctor playfully punched Wilby's arm. "Of course. Can't have people appearing out of nowhere can we!"
    Wilby made a noise that the Doctor took to be a humoured response to his comment, then proceeded to lead the way down the corridor, beckoning the Doctor to follow.
    "From your knowledge, I take it you are a man of science, like myself? We could use another mind on the project."
    They continued, the light growing brighter as they walked further. "What kind of project? If it's art and crafts I'm a bit rusty. My temporal engineering is...well, better not talked about, and..."
    They stopped outside of a large door, rust eating away at it. The guard swiped a card through a small reader to the side of it, and began turning the large wheel-lock at the door's centre.
    "The project is for the safety and continuation our race. The first stage has begun. Room 14 is our holding area. But first, I need to show you this."
    They stepped through the door, and the Doctor's eyes immediately looked to the box in the corner of the laboratory. "I'm assuming that box over there has something to do with it?"
    Wilby nodded. "Oh that's no ordinary box – that is the Heaven Machine."
    The Doctor muttered to himself. "I've a feeling I'm not going to like this..."

*****

    The troops were unloading equipment from their craft onto the beach, setting it up with a minimum of fuss. Amy didn't pay much attention to them, preferring to question Morley without letting him know she had no idea who he was.
    "So, everything's nearly ready then – the big one! The big...thing!" There's got to be a big something, there always is, she reasoned.
    Morley was typing something onto a small screen that looked to Amy like a larger iPhone or similar. He looked up as Amy cleared her throat. "Sorry Miss Pond? Oh yes, nearly ready. The end of it, peace once again."
    Realisation suddenly hit Amy. "So, we're in a war zone? An actual proper battlefield? Right now, with guns and bombs and..."
    Morley looked up at her, now convinced something was amiss. "You really don't know? You have no idea what is going on?"
    Amy sighed. "Finally, he gets it! No, I don't have a clue, and I'm sure I'd remember meeting you before. Why would you remember me?"
    "But we have met – whose idea did you think it was to set up and here and use the detonation device?"
    Amy narrowed her eyes at him. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to like the answer to that question?"
    One of the other troops signalled to Morley, and he hurried over to them, all the while keeping his eyes on Amy. As he reached it, he looked the device over and nodded.
    Amy didn't know exactly what it was, but she'd travelled with the Doctor enough to know that it was some kind of weapon, and it was pointed at the sky.

*****

    Looking around the laboratory, the Doctor was finding it hard to pick up any clues as to what this 'project' entailed. All he knew so far was about the ominously titled box, this 'Heaven Machine' that Wilby had mentioned.
    "I may regret asking this," he began, "but what exactly is a 'Heaven Machine'?"
    Wilby thrust his arms out wide. "Our greatest invention! A triumph! We shall live, far beyond what we could have hoped for."
    The Doctor braced the Sonic in his hand. "I don't very much like the sound of that. Extending your natural lifespan? What's the catch? Who has to suffer so that you can live longer?"
    Wilby tapped a few buttons on a console next to him, and a shutter slid open, revealing their true location.
    "No one will suffer – they will be our new home!"
    The Doctor peered out at the blackness of space. He could see the planet he'd arrived on below them, where Amy still remained.
    "A space station! Of course! What was I thinking? Underground base? The smell was all wrong, and as for the acoustics..." He pressed a button on the Sonic, the ultra high frequency causing Wilby and the guard to clutch their heads in agony while the Doctor quickly fled out of the room and further along the corridor.
    He had to stop at another door, using the screwdriver to trip the security on the lock. He hurried through, not noticing the number on the outside of the door.
    14.

*****

    "Ok, so you're setting up this weapon - some kind of missile I'm guessing – to destroy...something up there because I told you to?" Time travel often made little sense to Amy, despite what had happened to her so far.
    Morley nodded. "That's about the size of it Miss Pond." He pointed at the sky. "Out there, the enemy is lying in wait. They've got a station and, our intelligence tells us, something that will devastate this planet and everything on it." He turned to look at her once more. "We have to destroy them before they wipe us all out."
    "Listen," Amy began, "I don't like wars, I don't like death, but most of all...I don't like people acting all superior. So, I hope you're not lying to me Mr Army Man." She paused. "But whatever you do, I have got to find the Doctor." She walked back towards the tree the Doctor had been standing at before he disappeared. "But I don't know where..."
    A thought hit her – what if the Doctor had been teleported up to wherever this enemy was? He didn't stand a chance if the missile hit. She ran forward to the troops, waving her arms. "You've got to stop it, delay it, anything!"
    The two men held her back, while Morley said, "It's too late Miss Pond. The device has been activated, and there's nothing I can or would do to stop it."
   

*****

    "Hello!" The Doctor's voice reverberated around the room. "Very big. Like a large theatre. Empty though. Very odd." He began to walk around and felt a chill descend as he did. "There's definitely something in here with me..." Wind seemed to whistle past his ears as he moved, as if something was flying past him. He shook the thought from his head.
    Then he turned.
    Rows upon rows of ghostly figures stared back at him, the like of which he had seen before.
    "So this is how it happened..." the Doctor mused, fascinated and slightly scared at the same time.
    One of the figures started to speak. "We are transformed. We will consume. The Gelth will never die." A low chant began to build around the room. "Never die." Getting louder and louder. "Never die." Hands covering his ears, the Doctor backed away towards the door. "NEVER DIE! NEVER DIE! NEVER DIE!"
    He reached for the Sonic, but saw it had fallen to the floor. He dashed to pick it up, barely registering at first that the chanting had stopped. He looked around at the now still, silent figures. From a PA system came a loud klaxon, accompanied by the voice of Wilby.   
    "Detonation commences! Phase two of the project begins"
    The Doctor fumbled with the screwdriver, as the Gelth screeched and circled him once more. With a sudden clunk, the door opened and he dashed through, pursued by the army of spectres.
    He reached the control room, throwing himself through the doorway. The guard had his weapon trained on the Doctor immediately. Wilby looked him over and sneered. "A pity. I thought you could be of great use to us...what was it again?"


    The Doctor drew himself up to his full height, straightening his bow tie and running a hand through his hair for good measure.
    "I...am...the Doctor. And if you press that button...and I must warn you that it's really not something you should enter into lightly...if you press that button, there will be consequences."
    Wilby smiled his sickly grin once more. "Of course there will. The Gelth will rise again!"
    He pressed the button, a blinding light flared outside the station, enveloping the planet below it. Seconds passed as the light took hold on the world below and then it happened.
    The sphere below exploded.
   
    To be continued...