It's been months since I put anything up here, so I thought I'd share this 11th 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).
