Doctor Who - The Unhappy Medium

Doctor Who, The Time Lords and the TARDIS are all copyright of the BBC. This is my homage to the wonderful stories I grew up with.

1)

A darkened hall, breaths held in anticipation, some are hopeful for a revelation; wanting to believe, others here to mock and discredit. The darkness hides a multitude of sins and more.

Then a stark light; blue electricity ten years before Tesla set the world ablaze. The gigantic bolts dance on stage and solidify into sound; crackling like static before coalescing into a wheezing, groaning form.

A miraculous sight materialises in front of the now shaken audience; there will be no sceptics tonight, only disbelieving in their own minds. A large blue cabinet, something normally associated with the magical fakeries of John Maskelyne now stands in front of them, glowing with an unearthly light; the words Police Telephone Box plainly seen. “Christ, it’s the peelers!” one of the audience shouts, much to the relieved mirth of the audience.

A door opens and a dishevelled man steps out sending gasps and screams from some of the more hysterical members. The man staggers a little, his long brown hair blowing from the energy released by the landing; he looks around him and sees the darkened huddles staring back at him in horror and disbelief.

“Guess that didn’t go according to plan either.” He says out loud, his voice louder than he anticipated. The audience now bursts out in applause; everything that they had been promised has certainly come to pass and much more. True, they had come expecting miracles and portents from a female medium, but this was so much better! The Doctor, still taken aback by their reaction, bowed sheepishly.

“Go on then, predict something!” came a shout, followed by more such demands. Momentarily flummoxed by such a request, the Doctor foolishly asked:

“What’s todays date then?” To a riotous outpouring of laughter.

“Wow; what a medium!” “Doesn’t even know today’s date, so how’s he going to predict the bleeding future?!”

The Doctor was now in trouble, part of him wanted to run back into the TARDIS and leave but something had brought him here and he intended to find out what and why.

“Pssst!” Came a hoarse whisper from the side of the stage. “It’s 1876!”

“Thank you!” He whispered back before holding his hands out in a dramatic gesture and the audience quietened. “In less than one years’ time my voice will be projected from another place and you would not need to be near me to hear it!” The Doctor shouted over the catcalls.

“Wish we didn’t need to hear it now, mate!” Another burst of laughter and the Doctor tried again.

“A monument to Cleopatra will needle its way into your London shores; just as it did to the heart of the Roman Empire and calamity will fall those who try to erect it. Then a great battle will commence against a race black of hue but proud of heart; somehow against impossible odds 140 soldiers will repel over 4,000 of the enemy. And one scientist will be able to harness the power of the sun in a globe that you will be able to hold in your hand!”

The audience stayed quiet for a few seconds, unsure about the outpouring from this strangely clad man. Then one of them started laughing, followed by another; and then the booing started: “Get back to your closet!” One of them shouted, quickly followed by: “Stick with magic, mate!”

The Doctor realised his time was done and looked to where the voice had come from and walked off the stage. He was met by a small, perfectly formed woman, full of figure and bristling with personality with long, beautiful hair. He was thankful for the darkness off the stage and doublely so when the audience finally had had enough and gone home.

“Thank you for your timely assistance, my dear.” He bowed, to which she curtsied and replied,

“You’re most welcome; and my name is Emily.”

“Well, Emily – I thank you once again!”

“So.. tell me more about Cleopatra’s Needle!”

“How do you know I wasn’t just pulling your leg out there… They all thought that I was!”

“Three things, Doctor. Three things that make me think you know far more than what you say. One: If you were truly making such things up you would never have asked for today’s date; you would have just made it up from the start. Two; all of what you say is perfectly feasible…I consider myself well read.. for a woman, at least.” She winked at the Doctor and he understood her meaning. “Certainly far more worldly wise than the rabble out there, I can tell you.”

“I believe you.”

“I know the situations you spoke of. You are either very prescient in your hypothesis or you have seen it happen already. Three; that was no light show today, nor trickery… Nor was it supposed to happen like that!”

“And how do you know for sure, my dear Emily?”

“Because I was supposed to be on stage this evening giving a mediumistic display of my own!”

“Ah, I see.” He bowed his head in apology and then looked at Emily in the eyes. “But you are a true medium. You possess the true sight.”

“That is correct, Doctor; how did you know that?”

“You know my name without it being given?”

“True… but then your mind has a tendency to leak.”

“It’s not the first time that’s been said, you know.”

“And there is a fourth reason why I knew you were not from these parts.”

“And what that might, dear Emily.”

“Your method of… dress. It’s eclectic; I’ll say that much, Doctor.” He looked down at what he was wearing: Dr Martin boots, dark blue jeans, long collared paisley shirt with a bomber jacket,

“Yes; I do see what you mean.”

“I think we can find you clothes that will be more appropriate, which will allow you to slip into polite society; then you can tell me what brings you to my part of the world.

“That sounds delightful, dear Emily; perhaps over high tea?”

The Doctor was so enamoured over Emily’s presence; it was rare to meet someone so open and aware at such a young age. So taken back by the whole experience he hadn’t noticed the presence at the other end of the stage; eying them both with unease. Not only was this presence exactly what he was looking for, but it also recognised the Doctor for what he was; especially since it had been the Time Lords who has caused so much calamity his race so long ago.

One hour later the Doctor sat in Bolla & Biucchi's Restaurant enjoying the finest afternoon tea he’d had in many years. It was often something he had planned to do but never gotten around to. All the time he had spent in England with U.N.I.T. and he’d never made the most of the opportunity; between staving off the many alien invasions and trying to sort out the materialisation circuits on the TARDIS he never gone for high tea.

And Emily was such a revelation; bright, erudite and remarkably intelligent. She had a thirst0. for knowledge and experience that almost rivalled his own. Unsurprisingly, she was a stanch Spiritualist, but that didn’t lead to the closed, blinkered mind he normally associated with the mindset. She had views on many subjects and was more than happy to speak her mind.

“…the biggest complaint,” She explained in-between mouthfuls of scone, “and I have to side with Massey on this, is that Darwinism does not factor in the Spirit world! It’s incomplete and becomes a mere phantom in itself. It’s like looking at the embryo without taking into account the eggshell.”

“You don’t strike me as overly religious, Emily.”

“Between you and me, Doctor, I’m not; but don’t tell anyone else. They’re less than forgiving, especially the Spiritualist bunch, believe it or not.”

“So what is it that you do believe in, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“The belief in Spirit does not naturally lend itself to Christianity; especially not if you’re believe in equality. I don’t believe in any deity that say’s we’re not worthy – I get that enough from men, as it is!” The Doctor laughed at that and nodded profusely, here was a woman so far ahead of her time; it was a delight to be in her company. “If we are truly made in Spirit’s image than how can we even begin to comprehend it? Isn’t that what we’re actually down here to find out?”

The Doctor was about to answer when there was commotion: someone had fallen across one of the tables, sending crockery, tea and cakes flying. Emily looked up in shock and rushed over to the source of the commotion, the Doctor not far behind. When the Doctor had caught up he was surprised to find Emily crying over the body of a woman, haggard and withered.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh Doctor; another one! There’s not going to be many of us left at this rate!”

2)

The Doctor was puzzled, apart from a heart attack or seizure this seemed to be a normal, if dramatic episode, certainly nothing that should be causing Emily so much anguish. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, what’s happening? Don’t you see it?”  The Doctor stepped in front of her, but Emily tried moving around him; her face ashen. What she saw was truly terrifying and should never have existed, but she had to be sure. Yet when she looked again there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen.

“Tell me, Emily; what did you just see?” The Doctor took her lightly by the arm.

“It was something, the like of which I’ve never seen before. Never have I looked on such a.. creature! It wasn’t human, that I am sure of.” The Doctor had to tread very lightly now for there were too many people to enquire any further so he led her outside in the sea air.

“You must tell me what you saw; it doesn’t matter how strange it might sound to you; you must describe it to me the best you can. It might be the very reason I’ve been brought here.”

“Why are you here? Just who are you?” Emily countered. The Doctor knew that Emily was doing the best she could, but it was becoming too much, even for her. He had to take this slowly. “That wasn’t just some light show earlier, was it?” She asked.

“I will tell you, Emily; I promise, but not now. I know it’s a lot to ask but you must trust me. Tell me what you saw, please.”

“It didn’t have any eyes or ears; or indeed any human features; just a mouth like a… like a lamprey; it was hideous. What are they?”

“They are the Sibilis but there should be none left in existence by your time. They were thought to be extinct; I was sure we had killed the last of them! If there’s just one left in existence then it could all happen again… and it mustn’t!”

“If what happens again?”

“That woman.. who was she? Why were you so shocked?” The Doctor knew he was starting to push his luck, but it was imperative that he find out as much as he could. Everything hinged in the balance now.

“She is a… was a Spiritualist, like me… We were so close, Doctor. I was covering for her tonight when you interrupted.”

“But if it was her time to go; you of all people should….”

“But it wasn’t! She was no older than me!” The Doctor realised the extent of the problem.

“How many times has this happened?”

“About ten in all, over the last year. At first we thought it was consumption; it was a gradual process; we didn’t think much of it. The person would waste away, become a shell and there seemed to be no way of reversing it.”

“No..  I don’t expect there was… And this only happened to practicing mediums? Yes… that makes sense. That means there must be more than one of them… but why are they being so careful? What could stop them in such a backwards environment with so much easy prey?”

“Doctor!” Emily snapped. “I demand that you tell me what is going on!”

“Yes.. quite right… I need to show you something first. You’ll need to see it in order to put the rest into context otherwise I don’t think you’re going to believe me…”

Taking Emily back to the theatre he was pleased to find the TARDIS in the same place.

“Is your contraption some kind of magicians closet?” Emily enquired.

“Just wait until you see this.” Walking inside Emily gasped with wonder.

“Never before have I had more reason to disbelieve my eyes.. but I hope beyond hope that this is real. Please tell me that I’m not dreaming, Doctor.”

“You’ve taken a big step into a strange, wonderful but sometimes frightening world… However, something tells me that you’re used to that already. You’ve seen things on other occasions as well, haven’t you? You’re good at predicting other peoples personal futures as well, aren’t you?”

“How do you know that?” Emily asked.

“You’re highly empathic; able to read people’s emotional states, but with you its’ so advanced it’s bordering on precognition!”

“But why can I not read you now?”

“Perhaps that’s because I’m not human. I don’t mean to shock you, but it’s true; and I expect you had already come to that conclusion yourself. I’m from a world called Gallifrey and we’re highly technologically advanced to the degree that we can actually travel in time. This is called the TARDIS.” He said, spreading his hands out gesturing to the console room and beyond.

“Time and Relative Dimensions in Space.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“She told me.”

“She… you mean.. the TARDIS? I know she had telepathic circuits but upon my soul, you are a marvel, Emily!”

“Thank you… and thank you Tara.”

“TARA?”

“It’s how your TARDIS first introduced herself to me. She doesn’t like being called Old Girl, either.”

“I’m sorry… Tara.” The Doctor blushed and patted the console. “I always meant it affectionately…. Anyway… The Sibilis were an ancestral enemy of the Time Lords even before the Great Vampires came into existence. In fact, there are some that believe that it was interbreeding with the Sibilis that created the Great Vampires; but I’ve never been sure about that myself. Now, the Sibilis are psychic predators. Back in the midsts there was almost no need for psychic protection, most races lived semi-peacefully, but then came the Sibilis; from where no one really knew, but they were parasitic and could take many guises. Some were almost invisible and hung onto their prey, weighing them down and sucking their life essences before moving on to the next. Whole populations would fall to them and in many instances it was seen as a form of plague, but with no known antidote for as no one knew how to see them they couldn’t protect themselves or put up any shielding. And that’s where the Time Lords come in.

“Even back then we didn’t interfere too much in the development of other planets but we knew that, left unchecked, there would be nothing to stop the Sibilis laying waste to the entire galaxy. They had to be stopped.”

“What did you do?”

“Back them we possessed more control over our bodies; it went hand in hand with our ability to regenerate. We could emit energy –great at staying warm- but we could also use it to heal or raise other peoples vibrational levels.”
“..To such a degree that they could see the Sibilis and protect themselves?” Emily interrupted.

“Yes. We taught people to protect themselves, and almost created a taskforce that systematically hunted the Sibilis to extinction… But now I find that’s not the case. So how did they survive?”

“Does that really matter, Doctor? If they’re keeping a low profile it’s obviously to solidify a power base. We don’t know how many of them are here, or what they plan to do.”

“No, that’s true. Nor do we know how to draw them out.”

“Well, there’s one way for sure.” The Doctor looked at Emily and raised his eyebrow before realising what she had in mind.

“No! I’m not going to let you do that. It’s too dangerous!”

“I’m the only one who’s seen them, or that can see them. If we can draw them out then we stand more chance at tracking them down to their lair, or finding out what they’re doing. You need me, Doctor.”

“It would seem so… alright, if you insist!”

3)

The next day Emily had arranged another Spiritualist meeting amongst her contemporaries, again open to the public. As before, the crowds did not disappoint.

“Remember, don’t take any chances – find out where they are and then close your psychic shields. Don’t be a hero. Remember what I told you last night.”

The Doctor had tried taking Emily to a pie shop he liked to go to down on Egremont Street, much to her alarm.

“Do you think that little of me, Doctor?” The Doctor looked puzzled at such an outburst. “Only painted ladies and thieves frequent that particular street, and I’m sure that you are not such a gentleman to insinuate such a thing.”

The Doctor coughed and spluttered an apology and asked where Emily wanted to eat instead; then over supper he explained how psychic defences worked, and how it was possible to close your mind to external influences.

“Of course,” He said, “having a strong will is certainly part of it. And that’s something that you have in spades. And you know that I taught Dee Fortune all she knew… except she did go all religious on me near the end. You are a funny lot, you know… you humans.”

“How do you mean?”

“I sometimes wonder just how far you might have advanced if it weren’t for religious doggerel dragging you back down. You’re not the only species to entertain such notions, but you have an endless capacity for self-deception and persecution… a pity really.”

“Sometimes you really irk me, Doctor.. you really do.”

“Yes, I’ve been told that before as well!”

Now it was a time to take centre stage once again. The hall was quiet, a single spotlight shining on Emily who let her mind open to the still emptiness around her. The Doctor, waiting in the wings, was doing the same. His mind was shielded, but he was banking on the Sibilis letting their guard down for this veritable feast. There would be no reason for them to expect any outside interference and it was highly doubtful that they recognised the TARDIS the previous day. They would be too preoccupied in sucking Emily dry, which was why it was paramount that she didn’t do anything rash.

Like a dowsing rod, her mind pinpointed something different… wrong.. alien, she turned to where she felt the Sibilis stood and Emily could see a woman; tall, thin with almost no nose to speak of; a flat, featureless face but with alert eyes, deep that bored through her even though there was a gulf of blackness between them.

Then her eyes opened, opened in on themselves; almost as if they had been painted on, and they became shafts of sickly blue light, drawing Emily inwards, ever inwards. Emily felt herself go, her whole personality shrinking, as the woman drew closer.

As the event horizon drew closer she saw staccato glimpses of other faces, a stroboscope of images that meant nothing to her and as the blackness finally claimed her, she gave into the nothing that surrounded her.

All of a sudden the stage was plunged into blackness and the obligatory screams broke the silence. The Doctor now knew where the aliens were hidden, he could now track them!

Just then another scream shattered his sense of victory: “She’s dead! The medium’s dead!”

4)

“No… no, you damned fool,” The Doctor muttered under his breath as he cradled Emily’s head in his hands. “Not like this.”

Clearing his mind, and blanking out the hysterical cacophony around him, he allowed his energy to bond with hers, saw her life flash through his in an instant and saw what she saw before she died. It wasn’t going to end like this for her.
Technically speaking, what he was doing was expressly forbidden by his people, but providing he didn’t make a habit of it, what the Time Lords didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. Besides, Emily had found the source of the Sibilis which could potentially halt another outbreak. There was no way the Doctor was going to let her die.

He felt his whole body slow and pulse as his energy coalesced with hers and within a few minutes her body was responding in simpatico. Her eyes widened and she gasped for air; she was alive!

He rolled her over into the recovery position and sat beside her. Now he was assailed by the moronic bystanders.. still, one of them may be able to furnish him with the information he needed.

An hour later, Emily had recovered remarkably well.

“So what did you hope to accomplish there, hmm?” The Doctor asked.

“You know exactly what, and you also know that I achieved it, as well!”

“Yes.. well… no more heroics… I doubt I’ll be able to pull that off a second time.”

“Just what did you do?”

“It’s simply a matter of moving energy. You weren’t exactly clinically dead… The trouble with you lot is that you’re not very well advanced in the ways of medicine; there was still a pulse (well, barely) and your breathing was perilously shallow, so to the layperson you appeared dead; so I was able to share my energies with you.”

“That’s why I feel so awake now?” Emily asked, pacing up and down in the corridor.

“Yes… that will die down in a while… now, tell me what you saw and experienced.”

“There are six of them, but they’re desperate; barely surviving. However they’re crippled here; their ship is barely working and they’re trying to contact their homeworld whilst biding their time. They don’t want to betray their presence, which is why they’re keeping a low profile; however, they know that you’re a Time Lord”

“Damn. I had hoped we’d have the element of surprise still… do you think you’ll still be able to spot them again?”

“Certainly, Doctor. Where do you think they’ll be?”

“You mentioned Egremont Street… is there anywhere worse? Anywhere that you’re afraid to go?”

“Worthingham Street, for certain! No one in their right mind would go there!”

“And why is that?”

“That’s where all the beggars and tramps go; the disreputable and diseased of our society.”

“The ultimate hiding place then, would you not agree?” The Doctor picked up his top hat.

“If you say so, Doctor.” Emily replied and went to go with him.

“I don’t think so, my dear. I’m not sure that it would be right for you to go to such a place…”

“You mean it’s alright for me to act as bait and nearly die, but not visit a den of iniquity and slumage? You’ve seen inside me, Doctor… do you honestly think there is any way you’re going to stop me from coming with you?”

“Well… when you put it like that…”

“That’s settled then. I’m pleased we see eye to eye… besides, you need me, Doctor. I’m the only one that can actually see them.”

Worthingham Street was not unlike walking along the sewers just 20 feet below; the smell was enough to make even the Doctor gag, and made Emily wish she had let the Doctor talk her out of coming along. The walls were damp; made from sea sand, they were now crumbling through the rain and wind. How could anyone live like this? She wanted adventure, but not like this. What was she involved in?

The Doctor was unperturbed; just who was he? The snatches she had picked up when their energies mingled were confusing, to say the least. He was a being of great power, but also of a great sadness. He had lived a great many lives, almost as a form of atonement –or was she trying to rationalise it in the only way she knew. He wasn’t human, after all, how could she possibly empathise with his plight? For her to understand him would be like a flea trying to understand the host on which it feeds, which brought her to the creatures that they were tracking.

They had killed many of her friends, but it was unsure why. The Doctor believed they were simply living in accordance with their nature; but when it fed on her she picked up a desperation. She didn’t pick up any malice or evil intent; but, again, how would she know how it felt?

The Doctor stopped her and bade her look around. “If you were a shape-shifting alien that didn’t want to draw attention to yourself then where would you go?”

Emily looked around her, it was an impossible task; the buildings all looked the same in their decrepitude. All except the one in front of them. There was something about it that was more revolting than the rest; a sickly smell of something rotting inside.

“Yes.” The Doctor agreed, “That’s what I thought. I’d keep away from this one as well… so logic dictates this is the place we’re looking for.”

If Emily had thought that the street was bad then the building was so much worse; the stench of decay hung heavy in the air; a cloying and clinging cloud that choked her. She wanted to run but knew that although the Doctor would not think ill of her, she would not be able to look at her own reflection again.

There was something else that was wrong; she was picking up thoughts that weren’t hers. She vocalised her feelings to the Doctor but he dismissed them. “It must be just a projection of your own fear; don’t worry, I quite understand. This must be pretty traumatic for you.”

“Could you be any more patronising, Doctor?” Emily stopped, her hands on her hips, staring daggers at him.

“Probably… though I’d get a well-deserved slap if I tried.” He bowed his head in shame. “I do apologise; you are quite right. What is it that you’re feeling?”

“Hmmph, well. I do feel fear, but I know it’s not just mine. We’re definitely on the right track. Someone knows that we’re here and it’s frightened about what we might stumble upon.”

“Well, that doesn’t make any sense. If it is the Sibilis then they don’t feel fear; why should they? What have they got to feel scared about here?”

They carried on walking through a corridor into a darkened room, trying to touch as little as possible. They heard a deep thrumming sound, unlike anything Emily had ever heard before.

“A very primitive generator… they certainly are resourceful!” The Doctor explained. The stench of death was even stronger and as the Doctor struck a match they could see bodies, badly decayed, lying on the floor. They must have been there for weeks to Emily’s reckoning.  As they neared the next door Emily heard an expulsion of gas.

“Doctor, please; the smell is bad enough already.”

“My dear Emily, I do hope you’re not implying that it was me…” Something moved which immediately caught his attention. “Oh dear. I think we need to be very careful from now on in. We are in a great deal of danger.”

Emily looked around her as the corpses were now starting to twitch and move of their own will. Like a nightmare, the dead were beginning to rise.

4)

Suddenly the door behind them slammed shut trapping them in the room with the now animated corpses, in the dark.

“Doctor.” Emily  hissed. “Just what are we to do now?”

“I’m so glad you’ve asked me that question, rather than screaming in my ear; it shows great fortitude. Hold my hand and focus on your mediumistic powers. Focus on the strength that lies within and let that light shine forth. I will do the same and that will give us time to escape.”

Emily closed her eyes and allowed herself to enter the trance state that preceded her mediumistic episodes; despite the danger and fear that closed in. She believed in the Doctor, trusted his power. She understood what they were attempting.

Their combined lights merged and spread forth, flooding the room with such strength that it was almost a wave of concussive force; so much so that it disrupted whatever was animating the corpses and they fell as if their strings had been cut.

“Well… that’s that.” The Doctor slapped his hands together’ and with a triumphant click he had the door open to the next room.

“You disrupted their energy flow.” Emily exclaimed.

“That’s right! Well… not their energy exactly but the particular vibrational pitch. The difficult thing was actually matching the frequency so I could block it; but that leaves us with a tricky predicament; they know that we’re here. What’s more; they definitely  know I’m a Time Lord.”

“We have known for some time actually, Doctor.” Came a voice from behind them. The Doctor whirled round to face the Sibilis.

“I know you!” Emily snapped. “You were the one that fed on my friends!”

The creature just stared at them, not saying anything until it simply turned back around and said “I would have you both follow me.”

“How do you know we won’t do anything like run away?” The Doctor replied.

“It’s far too late for anything like that. I feared something like this would someday happen, hence why we have kept hidden for so long. Follow me, and I shall explain more.”

Reluctantly they followed the Sibilis down another flight of stairs that Emily knew should not exist, but the Doctor explained it was using negative invective space, similar to the way that the TARDIS was designed. They were now walking within the star cruiser.

Finally they reached a large antechamber where five large cocoons stood upright, all were frozen; the inhabitants in cryogenic suspension.

“You crash landed.” The Doctor spoke finally. “You… the only survivor?”

“They live, but are beyond repair; at least by this primitive worlds standards. However, I have put out subspace transmissions to my home world, so they will rescue us; then we shall feast.”

“How long did you crash?”

“By Earth’s reckoning four years ago.”
“And no one has responded?” Emily asked, aghast at the sight in front of her.

“And no one will.” The Doctor replied. “You are the last of your kind; we wiped you out.”

“You tried so hard to ensure that, but we fell through a freak time hole and whether it was a  curse or a blessing we ended up here.”

The Doctor looked solemn and said, “Yet another remnant of the Time War… will I ever be free of it?”

“What Time War, Doctor?”

“Nothing.”

“So, we are all that’s left and either you will complete what your race started or I will kill you. I still have the energy enough to do that.”

“As it was in the beginning…” The Doctor was old enough now to see a pattern forming; all those races that had become sworn enemies of the Time Lords.; so much for their policy of non-intervention; only when it suited them, obviously -The Doctor knew that as much as anyone and had been used most of all. He was older, but was he any the wiser?

“There must be another way.” Emily protested.

“You gave us no alternatives. All were in peril due to the havoc you were causing. You laid waste and caused destruction; a swathe of entropy across the galaxy.”

“Our species was young; barely formed, at least in comparison to yours. Could not the Time Lords have found it within themselves to mentor us? Use their knowledge and experience to curb our more base survival instincts?”

“You must be joking! The Time Lords…”

“Yes… strict intervention; except when they destroy. And now you will take up that role? So is this to be a mercy killing, Doctor?”

The Doctor shrugged his shoulders, took out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the cryofreeze. “I’m sorry.” was all he could say.

5)

“I’m so glad that you didn’t go through with it, Doctor.” Emily said as the planet Roca receded away from the TARDIS; it had been all that the Doctor had promised and more; however it was nice to be back somewhere familiar. She chuckled to herself for thinking of the TARDIS as familiar now.

“Well, you were right. I’ve seen enough killing. The Time Lords were wrong to wipe them out, and I’m glad that I got a second chance.”

“You?”

“A figure of speech.”

“So, what happens to them now?”

“Roca is known as a rehabilitation planet. It manages this by being incredibly nice to everyone; there are no cells or prisons; the naturally high bombardment of positive ions just makes the place seem so serene.”

“Yes, it certainly was that.”

“In that kind of environment it’s very easy to find a new set of values and re-educate people.”

“And what about the Sibilis that are in stasis?”

“They will be looked after and restored.” Emily smiled, satisfied. “So… what about you then, my dear Emily? There’s a choice in front of you now. Would you like to journey together, with me or carry on living your humdrum medium life in Brighton?”

“Well… when you put it like that, Doctor.”

Stepping out of the illusion

Joel knew he was dying. This was no spiritual revelation; it was a balls to bone certainty, some incurable wasting illness that was inevitable, taking him piece by painful piece. He had a few months at worst and he didn’t know how much more he could take.

It wasn’t the disease or the pain that bothered him; they had almost become friends now; at least they were honest; they were doing anything out of malice but out of purpose; something that he no longer had.

He could no longer be himself around people; there was too much pity and misunderstanding; everyone walking on egg-shells, never planning for the future when he was in earshot. They drained him of his love of life; making him apologise for his situation, which made him feel more alone and angry.

He no longer wanted those feelings, no longer wanted to be around people that made him feel this way. Joel loved life too much to consider ending it himself; all life was a gift. One had to step outside the illusion and open themselves to the truth: death is a certainty; a friend, not something to be feared. He wanted to greet it as a friend amongst people who would understand.

He had heard of a place where death was revered and understood. It was talked of in hushed tones and only those who knew how to listen could find it.

There was a wood, bordering on train tracks where the lost, lonely and misunderstood went to die. Many of them knew their time had come and welcomed it, imparting their bodies to a single family who, for time immemorial, had taken care of their bodies, burying them with all respect afforded them.

So Joel travelled, spent many days and nights following their mournful but respectful song, enduring many hardships and much pain until his train finally reached a lone stop, on the border of Cairn Woods. There, waiting on the other side of the tracks, was a lone woman. She stood a head taller with an expansive frame, but seemed so comfortable in herself that he couldn’t help but smile at her. No words were spoken. She hugged him and he wept tears of joy. He was home.

He had come to die, to be accepted and die in peace, but on his first new morning he found that this was not to be the case.

Awoken before the sun, crippled by the storm of pain that wracked his body, he was surprised to find Earth Daughter sitting opposite him, her face serene; devoid of pity, but full of love and compassion, shining. She was not oblivious to his pain, simply accepting of it, and it helped him. He saw a depth in her eyes that he knew he could learn from and, in turn, allowed his own soul to take on those qualities. The pain did not cease but he no longer fought it.

“We must up.” She said eventually. Her skin was pale, as if composed of moonlight, her lips moist and red, but her eyes… Christ’s eyes.

“I don’t understand… I came here to die.” Joel replied.

“And so you shall, but it is not something to be taken lightly; it is not a gift freely given here. We are here to serve. It is US that have been given the gift. We have a responsibility to those that have chosen to come here; to pass through.

“You have chosen to die as you chose to live but feel that you have lost your way. Here you will find it again. When you understand, only then will you pass.”

Joel nodded and followed Earth Daughter out into the woods.

Dawn was alighting, its tendrils snaking out, awakening all that came into contact with it. From one of the trees hung a mist enshrouded body, like a long forgotten cocoon.  It was an old man, balding, his face ravaged by burns; yet there was a sense of bliss and acceptance. Joel had seen the same in Earth Daughters eyes.

“Our responsibility knows no timetable; our work is on-going; day or night. Reverence is key; we do not interfere, even if they struggle –to do so would destroy them; take away their only remaining power and dignity. We allow their souls time to make peace with their bodies and depart before we carry out our service. We then do our best to carry out their wishes, regardless of what they might be.

“Each of us is named according to our element and corresponds to the various ways of dispersal. Those that know of us will sometimes specify their wishes in accordance to how they might have lived their life, otherwise we will ask upon discovery.”

“How is that possible?” Joel asked, finding himself rocking in harmony with the man’s body, as it swayed in the wind.

“We understand people; the subtle signs that belie a life. After all, ours is a knowledge handed down generation after generation and people haven’t changed that much.” She smiled. “Today you will be joining me in preparing an Earth Burial. In time you may undertake each method of dispersal and will be able to draw strength and comfort before it is your time to pass.”

The dawn was peaceful. The mist hung, still enshrouding the rocking man. This was not a death of violence, despite the man’s ravaged appearance; his face was of a knowing calm. Joel understood the honour that he had been given.

“How is it that he is an Earth Burial when he chose to hang himself?” He asked.

“Everything has meaning. How we choose to transition is as important as any other method of travel. Bear in mind that the people who come here choose to do so; this is not borne of desperation, it is not a plea for help. We do not advocate suicide.

“Life is far too precious to squander. One must open themselves to the ways of the world and forsake the ego. If there is still only the one choice, then it is borne of true understanding and not out of reaction.

“The one you see before you now took his last step into the great unknown; he faced his transition as he faced his life: in peace. But as we prepare his body so you shall understand.”

Despite the pain, it was Joel who climbed the tree to lower the man down. The tree was ancient, the trunk worn into accessible foot and hand holds; its soft fibrous bark yielding in sympathy as Joel climbed. He took great care in untying the rope from the branch for it would have been disrespectful to cut it. Now it could be re-used by the others who would come here. When the body was at rest on the ground Earth Daughter went through the man’s pockets before taking the clothes off.

“Remember that this last journey of his was conscious; therefore everything that you find on his body is meant as a gesture. Sometimes we find letters and poems to us; thanking us for our services; likewise any money that is found will go towards our subsistence.”

In amongst the man’s possessions was a round of sandwiches which she left to one side.

“You must now dig a hole: 6x3x8ft deep; I shall show you where. We may then eat.”

“I can’t.” Joel replied, his voice breaking after the effort of lowering the man down.

“You must do what you can; you have come here to serve, to earn your place. And to be understood you must first understand. We do not ask this lightly; we will help those who help themselves from a place of knowing.

“Once upon a time the Tribe would have decided and supported the individual in their decision; but we no longer have that luxury. We will not assist you but empower you to make the next step; but it must be you who makes the choice. This man chose and he chose YOU to be witness to his crossing.”

Joel nodded and took the spade that was offered, bowing his head as he did so.

“This is not done out of torment; dig as best you can in the time that you can. Think of him, he will give you purpose and strength.”

For hours Joel dug the burial hole while Earth Daughter meditated; his pain a constant companion; known and almost loved for he didn’t allow it to define him. After the hole was dug he felt a perverse sense of pride.

“As well you should.” Earth Daughter said. “You have done him well.” They laid the man to rest in the hole gently, arranging the body as if he were sleeping. “Now we shall eat and allow him to acclimatise to his resting place.”

“Shouldn’t we wash our hands first?” Joel asked.

“That would be disrespectful. We will eat of his food and give thanks for our memories of him and then we shall say our goodbye.”

The sandwiches were simple ham and cheese, but they were among the best he had ever tasted. Joel couldn’t understand but then he looked around him; it was now almost mid-afternoon and the sun was high; everything was life affirming.

He was the rich tapestry; the skein of life that had brought him here. The hardships and pain suffered. He never thought that he could smile again, but here amongst the solace of the trees he wept with happiness for he had found himself.

He thanked the man for all that he had taught him and spend the next few hours filling in the grave, gently patting the ground when he had finished. Earth Daughter then arranged the undergrowth so it was impossible for anyone to tell that such a grave had been dug.

“We will know and that is enough. We know where each body has passed; it is our honour.”

They spent a few minutes standing over the grave site and Joel thanked Earth Daughter for her kindness before they headed back to the house where he went to bed.

That night he was surprised to find Earth Daughter in his room again. She was naked.

“I can’t…” He said, “I don’t know whether I can… my body… the pain..” He cried. She lay next to him and held him.

“Open yourself. Just be in the moment and love me because you can. Nothing else matters.” He opened himself to her and loved her for all she had shown him. The pain abated as the ecstasy of life overtook him.

Earth Daughter laid with him until morning, telling him stories of her life; honouring him with her spirit before marking his passing. He died knowing love, peace and understanding when all his life he’d known only pain. Earth Daughter returned to her family, to the life she had freely chosen and offered her blessing to all who had honoured her with their passing.

Pent up

I always have the window open whilst driving, even in the coldest weather. With the window closed it's too much like driving a four wheeled tomb; I get tense, claustrophobic and then manic. I don't like passengers so don't get many complaints.I ran over a kid a few years ago, not my fault you understand, but since then I don't even like having the seat belt on, it's so constrictive.

They say things happen in slow motion in a life or death situation but that's not true; that happens later during the action replays, like a channel that's on endless repeats with a broken remote control. The car breaking even as the kid hits the bumper, almost cartwheeling into the windscreen, fracturing it into a unique spiders-web. Luckily I never saw his face as he hit, just heard his screams later on. Since then my window is wound all the way down so I can feel that there's an outside world, so I'm not totally disconnected to what's really going on. I'm not this tiny metal box on wheels...

I mean, you ever notice when someone's in an accident they identify with their car? “You hit me!”... nope, not at all. My car collided with your car, no physical contact between our respective flesh and blood bodies took place. People get very possessive about the slightest thing happening to their car. Their wives and kids... ah, who cares? Touch their car and there will be hell to pay.

Me? I had to drive, I didn't necessarily enjoy it. My job was off the beaten track -a pre-fabricated office built in the grounds of a working farm, on the site of an old slaughterhouse (I kid you not!) and my girlfriend lives about an hour away from me, so I need a car and as she doesn't drive, and can’t be bothered to travel to see me, I don't have much choice!

Anyway, this particular night I've finished work and am driving to see her; over an hour away, and we have tickets to see a film. It’s one I'm really not bothered with seeing, but we're going with a couple of her detestable friends and she wants to show me off. Both of us were kind of undateable and met on this website for the terminally clueless, and actually made a pact to stick with the relationship no matter what. She's in her 40's, is about eleven years older than me, and no longer wants to be single. Going for a trophy boyfriend means she can push me around, and she constantly makes me wish I had never made the vow.

Twenty minutes into the drive and it starts to rain. Hard. I don't mind getting wet sometimes and it takes a lot for me to wind the window up, but this time there's a strong wind blowing the rain right into the car and I'm getting soaked. I have no choice now. I try winding it down a crack but it's no use, I'm still getting wet; brilliant! It's an open road and no cover, and it's pretty much straight for the next half an hour. Remember to keep breathing deep and level...

I'd love to say that the relationship has some perks. I mean, the first date was great, don't get me wrong. We spent the whole night talking and had so much to say, we just clicked. Six hours just flew and then she said, “Well, I'd normally invite you home as I don't believe in waiting for a few dates to fuck, but I'm tired. Maybe another night?”

I was bowled over to say the slightest. I wasn't even sure whether I found her attractive, but she'd already moved on to the next stage. The irony was, she was happy to fuck but not to kiss. Intimacy problems? Just what was I getting involved in?

I found out the next night....

Seems she didn't even want to wait for the next date. It was the only time she visited mine and she just turned up at my doorstep with a bottle of wine in her hand. I don't even recall giving her my address....

Anyway, we screwed for most of the night. I was woefully inexperienced but she actually liked that and enjoyed teaching me. But no hugging or kissing...on the mouth anyway. The sex was great though and I wonder if that was what kept me going back.

The traffic stalls with half the journey still to go and the film starting in less time than it takes to get there! I said to her not to get the early booking, but she did it deliberately. I'm her boytoy to do her bidding as she sees it. She'll pout, but if I try to exert any control then she just laughs. I just can’t stand my ground to her, hence tonight.  She's an inferior decorator or an unemployed museum curator. Her friends have more money than sense and want to go to an arthouse film where all you see is those annoying closed captions and stilted images; where you need to either forget what you’re watching or get thoroughly confused with who's fucking who. I mean, that's all those films are -sex, sex, sex- and if it wasn't for the fact that it turns her on more than usual I wouldn't bother going. (I'd much rather see the latest Danny Dyer film).

However, because Tracey and Paul are going they'll act as a damp squib -the intellectual equivalent of viagra. They should be distilled, bottled and given away to sex maniacs as a curative. They're actually grotesque in their saccharine falseness and complete insincerity. It's obvious that they care as much about each other as they do themselves, but they act like two newlyweds in a carry on film.. .but they look like bloated warthogs..

This isn't good.. I can feel my mood changing; I can feel myself getting really claustrophobic, I need to open the damn window! Need some fresh air or else I'll start going crazy and tonight is not the night for that to happen. The road ahead blinks in Morse code as more brake lights flicker and then dominate the landscape. We're going nowhere until the traffic clears, and it's still whipping up a storm and I can't open the window in case the car gets flooded.

That doesn't stop me from trying the passenger window though -genius!

And for a while it works, the fresh air calms me right down but then I see the bloke in the lane next to me. He has his window partially wound down and I can hear his music  playing; it's something like Coldplay or something equally as depressing and crass, and he's arguing with the woman in the passenger side so he turns the volume up even louder and I'm starting to get a headache now. Part of me wants to shout at him but I shut my window again and try to find something to concentrate on.

It's unlikely that I'm going anywhere for a while now and I know that I'm going to be late and miss the first part of the film. She'll see it as a personal attack because I don't like her friends and there probably won't be any sex tonight -which is, I think, the only reason I put up with her shit.

Our pact means nothing to me. It was something else that she got me to promise in mid-blowjob. It had been years since anyone else had willingly done that and with her mouth inches away from my begging cock I would have willingly sold my mum into slavery.

There was only one thing I could do now though and that was ring her.

She wasn't happy, and that was putting it mildly. Imagine the voice of a Dalek crossed with an angry Roseanne Barr and you're close... Of course, those Warthog friends of hers would be listening in and passing comment in the background. They never approved of me in the first place as I saw them for the frauds that they really were. She wouldn't let me have a word in edgeways and the crackling of the phone made her voice sound worse -if such a thing were possible.

The rain pelting on the windscreen and windows, the brake lights flashing out an epileptics nightmare, the car closing in on me and the idiot next to me still rowing with his wife, readying to strike her and then the bastards behind start honking their horns –none of this is conducive to my worsening mood!

And then she gets inventive with her nagging. Why not? I'm a captive audience and her friends are giving her fresh ammunition, constantly feeding her nuggets. Apparently I've no imagination, no money, inexperienced in bed and I wear a raincoat.... I kid you not, she actually said that she hated the fact that I wore a raincoat. She's embarrassed to be seen with me when I wear that 'thing', she thinks I look like a degenerate... That's it... the Mac was a gift from my parents and I love wearing it (it reminds me of Humphrey Bogart!) and with everything else that's happened on this journey so far, everything that I've kept bottled up since meeting her, everything that's happened in my whole life, I finally let it rip. It’s a brilliant, cascading hate filled, bile flooded tirade; a wonderful waterfall of pent up frustration; the damn finally swept away.

The rain ceases.

The bloke in the car next to me stops trying to hit his wife and turns the music off.

The frantic brake lights relent and the traffic actually starts moving again.

“Got to go, darling.” I say and hang up on her now hysteric sobbing. Guess I’m no longer her little miracle worker....

I pull off at the earliest opportunity and head home with the window open, singing along to Queen's 'Keep yourself alive' at the top of my voice. Back at home I have the best wank of my life; completely guilt free. Bliss!