Foreword - by The Genie
This is it, the beginning of the six-part The Time of the Doctor spin-off, Trenzalore.
This episode - like two others this series (Episode 2, Do They Know It's Christmas? and Episode 3, Fairytale of New York) is penned by co-producer Lewis Robinson-Hurst (producer of Manhattan, She Wrote and writer of the Haunted Series Four two-parter, The Curse of the Rose Thorn/Room 666). To give credit where credit's due, Lewis came up with a lot of the ideas for the series. Trenzalore is the most hands-off thing I've ever written, so I've just let the other writers loose. This is the end product.
Lewis is one of these writers who can pick up something that's already been written in the way that a good art student can replicate a classic painting. He does so with ease and makes the end result believable but, indeed, different to the original. He adds subtle but brilliant nuances and throws in some wonderful perspectives.
A Spaceman Came Travelling is, for that reason, a success, in my eyes at least. As the opener, it's the only episode to barely feature any new material, yet the whole thing feels completely fresh. But hey, I haven't seen The Time of the Doctor since last Christmas, so maybe it's just that.
Enjoy - and Happy Advent!
This episode - like two others this series (Episode 2, Do They Know It's Christmas? and Episode 3, Fairytale of New York) is penned by co-producer Lewis Robinson-Hurst (producer of Manhattan, She Wrote and writer of the Haunted Series Four two-parter, The Curse of the Rose Thorn/Room 666). To give credit where credit's due, Lewis came up with a lot of the ideas for the series. Trenzalore is the most hands-off thing I've ever written, so I've just let the other writers loose. This is the end product.
Lewis is one of these writers who can pick up something that's already been written in the way that a good art student can replicate a classic painting. He does so with ease and makes the end result believable but, indeed, different to the original. He adds subtle but brilliant nuances and throws in some wonderful perspectives.
A Spaceman Came Travelling is, for that reason, a success, in my eyes at least. As the opener, it's the only episode to barely feature any new material, yet the whole thing feels completely fresh. But hey, I haven't seen The Time of the Doctor since last Christmas, so maybe it's just that.
Enjoy - and Happy Advent!
A Spaceman Came Travelling - Written by Lewis Robinson-Hurst
Once there was a planet, much like any other, and unimportant. This planet sent the universe a message. A bell tolling across the stars, ringing out to all the dark corners of creation. And everyone came to see. The Daleks came. And the Slitheen and the Sycorax. The Sontarans and the Rutans paused in their eternal war and came together. And the Angels came on wings of stone. Although no one understood the message, everyone who heard it found themselves afraid. Except one man. The man who stayed for Christmas...
In an instance there was a shimmering blue light as the man stepped forward from nothing, a heavy cloak about him and a hood over his head. The spaceship was dark and gloomy, the walls barely visible. A strong, confident, yet youthful voice emanated from the hooded man.
“I bring proof. Of courage. And comradeship.”
The man pulled forth a device known to all across the universe as a Dalek eyestalk. He held it aloft as he pulled back his hood, revealing a boyish face upon which sat a mop of hair styled into a quiff. The man could not have been more than 30 years old. Yet his eyes. His eyes were much, much older. The face would be familiar to many across the universe, although most would not remember why. To some, the face was recognisably the eleventh face of the Time Lord known as... The Doctor.
The Doctor turned to address the large empty space he stood in. He felt like he was on a stage and so he put on a bit of bravado as he continued to speak.
“What is this ship and why are you here? Identify yourselves by species and planet of origin!”
A steady pulse ran through the ship. Almost like a heartbeat. Blue lights shone from every space in the room. At eye level. Almost like eyes themselves. The Doctor lowered the Dalek eyestalk hesitantly as he considered his next move, his suspicions about the owners of this ship grew. And then-
“Exterminate!”
A Dalek, bronze plated with its gun arm twitching moved into the light, advancing on the Doctor.
“Exterminate!” it cried again.
“Exterminate!” another Dalek moved into the space.
“Exterminate!” Another Dalek.
Another.
Another.
The Doctor quickly lost count. He was surrounded. He had to get out of there. He pressed his finger to the hidden communicator in his ear.
“Handles!” He hissed.
The Doctor ducked, as a Dalek ray narrowly missed his head and obliterated a chunk of wall behind him.
“”Handles!” The Doctor yelled again as another ray just missed him by a few centimetres, he could feel a few of his hairs singing from where it had passed. The Doctor grew impatient.
“HANDLES!” he yelled. At this, a blue light appeared around the Doctor... and he vanished.
“Exterminate!” a Dalek cried futilely as it rolled over the spot the Doctor had been moments before. If it hadn’t been for the agitated Daleks and the obliterated chunks of wall... it was if he had never been there.
“I said ‘Put me on a ship’. Handles, I didn’t say ‘Put me on a Dalek ship’.”
Back in the safety of the TARDIS console room, the Doctor threw his cloak to one side while making a mental note that cloaks were almost certainly cool. He stormed up to the TARDIS console and approached a robotic head wired in to the TARDIS systems. The head, was recognisably a Cyberman’s, yet with the organic matter removed and its systems rewired. ‘Handles’ was the nickname the Doctor had given it.
“Don’t put me on a Dalek ship when I’m holding a broken bit of Dalek!” The Doctor cried. He whacked Handles on the forehead with the Dalek eyestalk which he was still holding. This only succeeded in the eyestalk bouncing off Handles and hitting the Doctor in his own forehead.
“OW!” he cried, more out of annoyance than actual pain. He grabbed Handles and walked to the other side of the console.
“You did not indicate a preference.” Handles said smoothly in a polite, charming yet emotionless voice. More pleasant to the ear than a Cyberman’s, yet not quite human.
“Use your head. It’s not like you’ve got a lot of alternatives.” The Doctor snapped sarcastically.
Handles remained silent. From experience he knew not to respond to the Doctor’s sarcasm. Cybermen were not built to trade wits.
The Doctor flicked on the TARDIS scanner and looked at the assembling ships now massing around the small planet. There were more ships than he could count. He held Handles up so the robot could get a clear view of the screen.
“Look at them,” the Doctor ranted, “They’re all here. Daleks, Sontarans, Terileptils, Slitheen. And they’re not even fighting! They’re just parked! Why?!”
“The message was received across the universe.” Handles interjected in response to the Doctor’s query.
“Ah yes the message!” The Doctor flicked a switch on the console and a short, three note tone echoed around the console. “Even I can’t translate it! I mean, why is everyone here if they don’t understand it?”
“...You’re here.” Handles said bluntly.
The Doctor waved the response away and placed Handles awkwardly on one of the TARDIS’s many levers. “Well you know, I’m OCD. What’s their excuse? What does this message mean? What do they even think is down there?! Really amazing ice cream?!”
The tone of the message was cut out suddenly by the sound of a ringing phone. The Doctor reached for a spot on the console and then paused. Ah. Yes. That was the old console room.
“Oh no.” He muttered. “Try and identify planet Boring for me, Handles. And remind me!” He called back to Handles as he walked to the TARDIS doors. “I’ve got to patch the telephone back through the console unit. This is getting ridiculous!” He cried, remembering a specific event which left him hanging from the bottom of the TARDIS above Trafalgar Square.
“Attention. Information available.” Handles stated.
The Doctor, almost to the doors, paused and ran excitedly back to Handles like an overgrown child.
“Okay?” He asked, waiting for Handles response, on edge.
“You must patch the telephone device back through the console unit.” Handles beeped almost happily.
The Doctor’s face dropped.
“No. No. No. No no no no no. Not now. Remind me later.”
“When?” Queried the Cyberman head.
“I don’t know. Just later. Just pick a time.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. Just any old time. When you think I’ve forgotten.” The Doctor explained.
“... When?” Handles responded, confused.
The Doctor sighed. “Just pick a random number. Express that number as a quantity of minutes and when that time has elapsed, remind me to patch the telephone device back through the console unit.” The Doctor stared at Handles expectantly.
The lights on Handles forehead flashed as he pondered the Doctor’s words.
“Affirmative.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “How those Cyber evenings must fly!” he shouted sarcastically as he opened the TARDIS doors, just as two spacecraft flew over the TARDIS, and answered the phone.
“Hello , The TARDIS!” he shouted cheerily as he brought the phone inside the console room.
Meanwhile at that exact moment several hundred years ago on the Planet Earth, Clara Oswald dashed frantically around her flat, carrying Christmas crackers, plates and other assorted items with the phone balanced between her cocked head and her shoulder.
“Emergency! You’re my boyfriend!” She shouted down the phone.
The Doctor smiled a goofy grin.
“Ding dong! I’m a bit rusty but I’ll glance at a manual!”
“No! Not actually my boyfriend!” Clara cried.
“Oh.” The Doctor slumped. A little disappointed. That lasted shorter than his brief affair with Jane Austen. “It’s a roller coaster this phonecall.”
“But I need a boyfriend really quickly!” Clara shouted.
“Well I hope you’re nicer to the next one!” The Doctor snapped.
“No! Shut up! Christmas Dinner! Me! Cooking!” Clara shouted as she threw several Christmassy decorations on the table.
“So?” The Doctor asked.
“So I may have... accidentally... invented a boyfriend.” Clara mumbled, embarrassed.
The Doctor laughed.
“I did that once! And let me tell you, there’s no easy way to get rid of an android!” He chuckled, remembering. The scanner on the TARDIS beeped. The Doctor looked at it with growing interest.
“No. Not an android. A pretend one. An imaginary one. And I said he’d be coming to Christmas dinner! If they thought I didn’t have a boyfriend, they’d have brought one for me. They’re desperate for me to get married. My Dad’s girlfriend wants me to have kids!”
“Well that won’t work. You’re both women!” The Scanner beeped again catching the Doctor’s attention. He looked and saw a new ship appear amongst the many surrounding the planet. “Yeah.” The Doctor mumbled, losing interest in Clara’s plight fast. “That’s a new one. Rings a bell. Handles, that’s a new ship. Okay, we’ll take the TARDIS this time.”
The Doctor ran round the console pushing buttons and pulling levers as Clara continued to talk.
“I need you to come to Christmas dinner. Just do that for me. Come to Christmas dinner and be my Christmas date.”
The Doctor, realising Clara was still on the line, quickly shouted down the phone. “Sorry! Missed that last bit. Got to dash.”
Before Clara could even say a word of resistance, the Doctor ended the call.
The Doctor opened the TARDIS door slowly and shoved Handles out the door. The Cyberhead made no noise. The Doctor stepped out and placed the phone back on its receiver.
“Fat lot of good you are. You’re supposed to give me the all clear.” He grunted at the head.
The Doctor looked about. The TARDIS had landed in a hallway. The ship was cold. And very very blue. That was good. He liked blue. A door stood at the end of the hallway. The Doctor stepped towards it with confidence and shouted his greeting as the door opened.
“Hello! Don’t be alarmed! I come in –“
The Doctor stopped mid sentence.
“-peace.” He muttered.
Cybermen lay in stasis in pods across the room. More than he could count. A small alarm sounded. The Cybermen began to awaken. Not good. A Cyberman awoke. It looked at the Doctor. And then looked at Handles. Very not good. The Doctor raised his free hand hesitantly.
“Now there’s a very good explanation for this. It’s really not as bad as it looks.” He stammered.
“Alert! Alert!” The Cyberman boomed. “Intruder detected! The Intruder will be upgraded!”
“Argh! No!” The Doctor dashed out of the room as the Cybermen followed, firing energy bolts at his retreating form. The Doctor shook Handles angrily.
“You could’ve mentioned it was one of your own ships!” He yelled at the head.
“I have developed a fault.” Handles responded calmly.
“Delete!” The Cybermen roared emotionless behind the Doctor. He turned to them as he ran.
“Sorry! Sorry for disturbing your nap! I’ll just pop off shall I? No harm done? Let bygones be bygones?”
Another energy bolt fired past the Doctor.
“I’ll take that as a no!”
“I have developed a fault. I have developed a fault. I have developed a fault.” Handles repeated.
“SHUT UP!” The Doctor roared as he reached the TARDIS and dashed inside. He threw Handles onto the console and prepared to set new co-ordinates. Then the phone rang. The Doctor reached for it, then remembered again it was now outside. Outside where a horde of angry Cybermen were waiting. The Doctor braced himself, adjusted his bow tie and ran to the doors, pulling them open, grabbing the phone and slamming the doors shut again as more energy bolts rained upon him.
“I need you! I’m cooking Christmas dinner!” Clara shouted down the phone.
The Doctor pulled a lever and the TARDIS took off, appearing once more above the nameless planet. Not to be so easily outwitted, the Cybership gave chase firing at the TARDIS.
“But there’s a funny little planet and a mysterious message and the whole universe is turning up-“ The Doctor blathered.
“Cybership locked on and attacking.” Handles warned.
“And I’m being shot at by Cybermen!” The Doctor yelled.
“It’s my family! I could use a little help.” Clara insisted.
“So could I!” The Doctor replied.
“Well can’t we do both?!” Clara panicked, trying to compromise.
The Doctor thought about this. “Yeah why not?”
The Cybership fired two missiles at the TARDIS. The Doctor threw the phone to one side and pulled several levers. The TARDIS vanished just as the missiles were about to hit. The Cybership zoomed past where the TARDIS had been only moments before and when the TARDIS showed no signs of returning, the Cybership returned to its position above the small planet.
Clara Oswald was not in control. And the one thing Clara Oswald hated above anything else, apart from that little old lady with the beady eyes and the corgi from hell at the paper shop, it was not being in control. Clara ran through all the things likely to go wrong in her mind. The turkey could not be done in time. It could be done too long and set the kitchen on fire. Gran could drink too much wine. Linda could accidentally choke on a turkey bone. Oh wait. That one didn’t sound too bad. Clara looked round at her family. Her father sat to her left. He’d aged a lot over the past few years. There were a few moments where it was almost as if he was a different man. It was hard to believe the balding, middle aged man next to her was the dark haired youth who had took her out to play football in the parks of Blackpool, swearing she’d one day become a footballer. Next to him sat Linda. His girlfriend. Blonde and posh, she was an alarmingly poor match for her father. Not that he wasn’t good enough for her, oh no, Linda was a cow and had yet to prove to Clara she deserved to be with her father. Clara smiled to herself as she remembered describing Linda to the Doctor one day; “A Cruella De Ville, Miss Kizlet and Regina George soufflé”. Finally, on the other side of the table sat Clara’s Gran. God she loved her Gran. Gran was just one of those people who knew exactly the right thing to say and wasn’t afraid to say something rude because she could get away with it. If she wasn’t half the woman her Gran was when she was old, then she went wrong somewhere Clara often thought to herself. The table was a rush job. The table quickly pulled from the kitchen and draped with as many decorations as Clara could find in a hurry. Clara looked at the assembled guests and decided to play her duties as host.
“Everyone okay? Gran you need another drink?” She asked.
“No, no, fine.” Her Gran said, sipping slowly from her glass.
“Uncle Reg is going to be late.” Clara’s Dad observed, glancing at his watch. His old one. Not the new one Linda had bought him.
“Yes.” Linda added. “His friend Phil was looking everywhere for him.”
Clara glanced at Linda coldly.
“His husband Phil.” She corrected.
Linda glanced back at Clara.
“A Civil Partnership does not a husband make.”
Clara’s eyes narrowed. Correction. If there’s one thing she hated more than not being in control, it was ignorant bigots.
“Well I’m sure you can resume that conversation from last Christmas,” Clara snapped, “And I for one am looking forward to sticking my head out of a window and praying for a merciful death.”
Silence. Clara and Linda continued to glare at each other. Eventually, Clara’s Dad coughed awkwardly and the two women dropped the glares.
“How’s the turkey doing?” Linda broke the silence.
“Great! Yeah, yeah, it’s doing great. Well, dead and decapitated, but that’s Christmas when you’re a turkey!” Clara responded, a little too fast.
Linda glanced at Clara coldly once again.
“Actually, I think I will have a little more.” Clara’s Gran held up her now empty glass.
The tension broken, Clara refilled the glass.
“There you go Gran!” Clara said cheerfully. As she poured, her Gran gave a small conspiratorial wink, only noticeable to the two of them.
“Did you put it in early enough?” Her father asked, concerned.
“Dad, I put it in when you phoned me.” Clara lied.
“I emailed you some instructions.” He added.
Clara pulled out a large wad of paper from the cabinet behind her.
“You certainly did.” She said under her breath.
“Are these from your holiday?” Linda’s voice called.
Clara glanced around and noticed Linda casually going through photos Clara had displayed on the mantelpiece behind the table. Clara’s eyes narrowed. She hated people going through her things without asking.
“Yep. Portugal.” Clara said, trying to be civil and also thankful she’d hidden the photos of her at Akhaten and with Angie and Artie aboard Porridge’s ship in her bedroom.
“So...where is he?” Linda asked.
Ah. Brilliant. Clara racked her brains and came up with the best lie she could:
“Well...taking the photographs.”
“You didn’t take any of him?” Linda asked, suspicious.
“I can’t. He’s horribly disfigured. And anyway, his wife might see them.” Clara laughed awkwardly.
Linda only stared.
“You and your sense of humour.” She muttered.
“Yep. It’s great having one of those.” Clara responded.
“I think I will have a drop more.” Clara’s Gran broke in.
“But I just gave you- oh.” Clara noticed the already empty glass. “You’ve taken care of that, haven’t you, you clever old thing. Just give us a moment, checking a thing.”
Clara ran out of the room.
“Nervous. Bless.” Linda commented.
Clara ran into the kitchen, praying under her breath. She glanced out of the window and all her prayers were answered. The TARDIS stood in the field. Parked and waiting. Clara couldn’t help but grin. She dashed out of the flat, down the stairs, across the field and into the TARDIS.
“Oh Doctor!” she shouted. “I so need you-“
She stopped. And stared.
“Clara!” the Doctor yelled. Stark naked. He moved towards her, arms outsetched for a hug.
“No!” Clara shouted “Don’t move! No! Stop that! Move back behind the console now! Keep the console between you and me at all times! Don’t do anything!”
The Doctor instantly looked concerned.
“Why? What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked.
Clara turned her back to the Doctor.
“You’re naked.”
“Yes!” he shouted proudly. “I am naked! I wondered if you’d notice.”
“Doctor,” Clara asked carefully “why are you naked?”
“Because I’m going to church!” The Doctor responded, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Honestly.” He mutered, pulling a lever on the TARDIS. There was a bright flash and then
“Better?”
Clara turned slowly. And the Doctor was wearing clothes again. His traditional purple frock coat and waistcoat. Clara breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, that was...quick.” She noted.
The Doctor smiled a playful smile.
“Hologram clothes, projected directly onto your visual cortex.”
“Oh... so you’re still naked underneath then?”
The Doctor shrugged.
“Everyone’s naked underneath.”
Clara shuddered.
“Don’t say things like that. It’s Christmas.”
Suddenly she remembered.
“Come meet my family!”
The Doctor pointed at the scanner, where a planet was in full focus surrounded by too many spaceships to count.
“Can we go and get shot at afterwards?” He asked almost like how a child would ask to go out and play.
“After this, I will be very happy to be shot.” Clara responded.
The two walked out of the TARDIS and the Doctor locked the door behind them. He didn’t want someone to randomly stumble into the TARDIS. Goodness knows enough trouble had been caused the last time that happened. Clara walked on ahead.
“So you don’t like Christmas?” he called to her.
She paused and turned back to him.
“Christmas is a whole year of my family in one meal. The turkey is only there to stop them eating each other.” She replied.
“Maybe you’re not reading the jokes in the crackers. Those are amazing!” the Doctor bubbled.
Clara grinned. “I’ve missed you!” she admitted and hugged him.
“I’ve missed you too Clara Oswald.” He replied.
Suddenly Clara stiffened. She detached herself from the Doctor.
“Naked!!” She cried.
“Yes I am!” he said proudly.
Clara and the Doctor burst into the living room.
“Hello. So...err...here he is.” She said awkwardly.
“Hello the Oswalds!” The Doctor shouted. “Merry Christmas!”
He shook her father and Linda’s hands. He then shook her Gran’s.
“Hello handsome.” He said in a flirtly voice. “Anyone for Twister?!” He shouted, addressing them all.
“So this is the Doctor.” Clara tried to regain control of the situation. “He’s my boyfriend.” She looked at her family. Her father and Linda were shocked, her Gran had a smile on her face. “Isn’t anyone going to say hello?” Clara asked confused.
Her Gran downed her glass. “Hello.” She said seductively.
“Excuse me a moment.” The Doctor tugged Clara’s sleeve and pulled her to one side.
“Listen,” he whispered “I’ve got an idea to break the ice. Why don’t I project my clothes onto their visual cortexes too?”
Clara groaned internally. “So, just to be clear, no one except me can see your clothes?”
The Doctor nodded. “Yes, and I think it might be causing tension.”
Clara’s Gran leaned towards them. “Are we playing Twister now?” She asked with a smile on her face.
Clara turned to the Doctor. “Get in the kitchen!” she hissed.
“Eh? Sorry?” The Doctor asked.
Clara grabbed him and pushed him out of the room. She turned to her family and said “Sorry. He’s Swedish.”
She ran out of the room leaving everyone bewildered.
Clara shut the Kitchen door behind her and threw her head back. Of course it all went wrong. She looked at the Doctor who was staring at her oven with immense interest. She walked over to him.
“Doctor, please-“
“Oh, that’s never going to work is it?” he interrupted, pointing at the turkey which was slowly cooking.
“Why? What’s wrong? Do you think it’s not done yet?” Clara asked concerned.
“I think a decent vet would give it half a chance.” The Doctor replied.
Clara grumbled.
“Well, okay, use an app!” she responded.
“An App?” The Doctor asked confused.
“On your Screwdriver! App it!” she mimed buzzing the turkey with the Sonic Screwdriver.
“Most certainly not.” The Doctor stated. “It doesn’t do turkey. Nothing does turkey. You’d need a time machine!”
Clara paused. She slowly looked at the Doctor. He looked at her confused.
“What?”
“You can’t keep using the TARDIS like this!” he shouted, annoyed as they walked into the TARDIS.
Clara tried to balance the turkey as best she could. “Like what?” she called.
“Missed birthdays, restauraunt bookings and please, just learn how to use iPlayer!” he shouted back.
He led the way under the TARDIS and pulled open a small hatch. A wave of heat hit Clara in the face.
“Oooh. Vortex cooking?” she asked.
“Yep, exposure to the time winds.” The Doctor replied “It’ll either come up a treat, or quite possibly lay some eggs.”
Clara laid the Turkey in the space and the Doctor slammed the hatch shut. There was a beep from overhead.
“Information available.” a robotic voice called down.
“What was that?” Clara asked.
The Doctor led the way upstairs and pointed at Handles.
“Oh, just a bit of a Cyberman. He’ll get us to the church on time.”
“I have developed a fault.” Handles responded.
“The organics are all gone, but there’s a full set of data banks.” The Doctor explained. “Found it at the Maldovar market. Knock down price. I got a head!”
He looked at Clara with a huge grin. She looked at him blankly.
“That was a pun.” She remarked.
“I know!” beamed the Doctor, “Loads more of those bad boys in Christmas crackers! You should get yourself a box! I can lose a whole day!”
He turned to Handles.
“Handles, what have you got.”
The TARDIS took off and landed. Clara had no idea where.
“Planet identified from analysis of message.”
“Right cool.” Said the Doctor. He dragged Clara over to Handles and they both waited. “Go on then. Okay, tell us. What is the planet? Go on.”
Handles beeped. “Processing official designation.”
The Doctor and Clara waited.
“Processing.”
The Doctor groaned and walked off.
“In your own time dear. Don’t rush.” He said sarcastically.
“So why haven’t you just gone down there and had a look?” Clara asked.
“Oh it’s shielded. Even the TARDIS can’t break through it.” The Doctor responded with a wave of his hand.
Handles beeped.
“Gallifrey.”
The Doctor stopped. Clara turned to him. He turned towards her. They shared a look. The Doctor walked back to Handles.
“What did you say?” He asked.
Handles’ machinery whirred and the robot beeped again.
“Gallifrey.”
“What are you talking about? Gallifrey? What do you mean?” The Doctor asked sternly.
“Confirmed. Planet designation, Gallifrey.”
The Doctor angrily grabbed Handles and stormed to the scanner, thrusting the robot head at the screen and angrily pointing at the planet.
“You see that?!” He ranted at the robot. “Gallifrey is my home. I know it when I see it. That is not Gallifrey!”
“Doctor?” Clara asked cautiously. “Are you okay?”
The Doctor forcefully rammed Handles onto his stand and leaned over the console, his shoulders slumped.
“It’s not Gallifrey. Gallifrey is gone.” He muttered.
“Unless, unless you saved it.” Clara interjected. “You thought you might have.”
The Doctor slowly walked towards the TARDIS doors, Clara at his heels, braced himself and opened the doors. He looked down at the planet below. It was blue and small. Not large and orange. He turned to Clara mournfully.
“Even if it survived, it’s gone from this universe.” He pointed with a long arm at the planet below. “That is not my home.” He said adamantly. He turned back into the TARDIS, shutting the doors behind him. He leaned over the console with his head bowed.
“It can’t be.” He murmured.
Clara took a step forward, about to offer some words of comfort when a loud foghorn blared from outside the TARDIS doors. A large white light beamed into the console room. The Doctor spun round. The mournful expression was gone, instantly replaced by a boyish grin once again.
“What’s that?” Clara asked.
The Doctor bounded to the doors and pulled them open, revealing a massive ship that reminded Clara of a computer. Large circuit boards decorated the large tower like vessel.
“Who are they?” she asked.
“The Papal Mainframe!” The Doctor shouted. “They’re the ones who shielded the planet, they can get us down there!”
A hologram of a dark haired woman with ritualistic markings on her face appeared on the ship. She looked down at them with piercing eyes and then smiled a flirtatious smile. She raised a finger and beckoned sedutctively.
“Friend of yours?” Clara asked.
“Tasha Lem! The Mother Superious! She’s inviting us aboard!” the Doctor cried. He handed Clara a small pill. “Here eat this.”
Clara popped it in her mouth. It tasted slightly of jelly baby.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Portable hologram shell. You can’t go to church with your clothes on!” The Doctor responded.
Clara looked at him, a glare of terror on her face.
Clara shifted uncomfortably. She hated being naked. To the outside observer, Clara was wearing a pleasant yellow jumper and a skirt. In reality, Clara was stark naked. And so was the Doctor. The Doctor, leaving Handles in the TARDIS, led the way down an appealing red carpet. The spaceship’s interior was an official deep black with highlights of blue scattered around. Clara guessed these blue highlights carried important data and information across the ship. The TARDIS had landed on the end of a long hallway and a red carpet ran to a small staircase, atop which stood a very official looking woman with dark hair and strange markings over her face. This, Clara guessed, was Tasha Lem. She wore a beautiful dress that trailed behind her. She was flanked by several soldiers. More soldiers stood on the outside of the red carpet. Escorts to guide us the right way? Or guards to make sure we don’t escape? Clara thought, not sure which one was right. The Doctor walked calmly ahead. He certainly seemed very comfortable here, but then again the Doctor seemed comfortable anywhere. “Walk in and pretend you own the place” the Doctor had told her once. She scurried to stay by his side.
“I don’t feel like I’m wearing anything!” She hissed.
“I know!” The Doctor responded. “Relaxing isn’t it?”
“What is this place?”
“The church of the Papal Mainframe. Security hub of the known universe.”
“A security church?”
“Keeping you safe, in this world...and the next.”
The Doctor reached Tasha Lem at the end of the carpet. He swept into a deep bow, his pointy chin almost touching his toes.
“I venerate the exaltation of the Mother Superious.”
A Colonel, his name tag identified him as Albero Clara noted, looked down at them.
“Welcome to the Papal Mainframe. Your nudity is appreciated.”
Clara suddenly felt self conscious.
Tasha stared down at the Doctor officially...then smiled and grinned. She winked.
“Hey babes.”
The Doctor grinned back.
“Loving the frock.”
She smiled.
“Is that a new body?” she asked. “Give us a twirl.”
“This old thing?!” The Doctor laughed. “I’ve had it for centuries!”
He spun on the spot.
“It’s nice though...tight.” Tasha muttered.
Clara coughed awkwardly.
“Hello! Also here!” She butted in.
“Clara, this is Tasha Lem, head of the church of the Papal Mainframe. Tash, this is my...” The Doctor stopped. He looked at Clara and tried to think of the right word. Companion? Assistant? Friend? He settled on one. “Associate. Clara Oswald. Miss Clara Oswald!”
Tasha nodded politely to Clara. She turned to Albero her.
“We’ll go to my chapel.” She whispered.
Tasha turned to the assembled group.
“All honours in place!” she cried. “No sacrifices required!”
Clara gasped.
“Sacrifices?!” she asked.
“Oh of course. Sacrifice is a common ritual. Sacrifice Tuesdays are great fun.” Tasha responded.
Clara wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or not as she followed the Doctor and Tasha through a large doorway.
Clara tagged along behind the Doctor and Tasha. Tasha led the way, lifting her dress as she walked almost regally. Clara rubbed her shoulder anxiously. She knew they were alone, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched. She sensed eyes above her, yet when she looked she saw nothing. Something hissed near her. She shivered. She looked up. The Doctor and Tasha were deep in hushed conversation.
“You two – um – know each other then?” She asked cautiously.
The Doctor turned back and grinned.
“Well she’s tried to kill me, what, four times? Five?” He explained.
“Well who wouldn’t? You’re so pretty.” Tasha added.
She turned to see Clara’s look of terror.
“Oh take that look off your face. My oath of non-homicide is on record. I haven’t committed a nonsancitfied murder in twelve years. And that was just a fun thing.”
“Doctor?” Clara asked, baffled.
“On Tasha’s home planet, the ecosystem is so competitive, the indigious life-forms evolved into compulsive killers just to survive,” Explained the Doctor. “Sort of like Earth really.”
“Thanks,” Clara replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“For us, the road to peace and virtue is truly divine for it is inclined against our natures,” Tasha commented.
“Plus they only kill bad people,” The Doctor added.
“And there’s always one to hand, if you’re feeling frisky,” noted Tasha.
The Doctor coughed awkwardly.
“It was Tasha who shielded the planet,” the Doctor said after an umcomfortable silence, “But you could sneak me down there couldn’t you Tash?”
Tasha led the way to a large, wooden door. Completely out of place on the spaceship.
“I would have conditions,” she replied.
Tasha was about to open the door and then paused. Tasha turned to the Doctor, looking at his face.
“Oh! You have a new face too!” She cried.
The Doctor went incredibly red.
Tasha turned to Clara with an awkward smile on her face.
“I have confidential matters to discuss with the Babe.”
“BABE?!” Clara exclaimed.
“Sorry. Doctor now, isn’t it?” Tasha responded, “Anyway, I have confidential matters to discuss with the Doctor. Would you excuse us?”
“Anything you have to say to me, you can say to Clara as well,” the Doctor interjected.
Clara smiled proudly.
“Well,” the Doctor added, “Quite a lot of it. Probably about half. Maybe a smidge under?” He paused, “Actually Clara would you mind waiting out here, please?”
“No worries. You two get yourselves a room.” Clara said with a wink.
“Yes, quite,” the Doctor said, “No! Stop it!”
“Boss of the psycho space nuns. So you!”
Tasha turned to Clara.
“You are a sanctified guest,” she added, “You will be perfectly safe. But if anyone does annoy you, please inform me, and I will personally put them to death... It would be no trouble... Even if you see someone you don’t like the look of...”
Tasha walked through the door. The Doctor gave Clara an apologetic smile and followed, leaving her on her own.
“Well,” The Doctor began. The door closed.
Clara kicked her heels on the floor. She was bored. She wondered what everyone was doing at home. Perhaps her Nan had finally lost it and strangled Linda with the Tinsel? That would be a sight to see. Clara looked up...and stopped. A lone figure in a black suit was approaching her. Long and thin, with long spindly fingers attached to large fleshy hands, a large head with no mouth and eyes as black as sin, it was if it had walked out of Clara’s nightmares. It hissed with a rattly voice and advanced on her. Clara backed towards the door slowly.
“Doctor?” she called, afraid.
The Doctor sauntered into Tasha’s chapel like an elephant in a china shop. As in to say he bounced in. The Doctor walked over to an ornate bed like sculpture as Tasha pulled some wine from a cupboard.
“That altar looks like a bed!” he called as he sat on it.
Tasha turned.
“That bed looks like an altar,” she said flirtily.
The Doctor gulped. Tasha walked over to the Doctor and handed him a glass of wine. The Doctor took a sip, made a face and spat it back in the glass. Tasha rolled her eyes.
“Excuse me,” she said while leaning into as much of the Doctor’s personal space as possible. She pressed a button on the side of the bed and the sound of the mysterious message played through the room.
“That message,” she monologued, “is being transmitted though all of space and time. You have feelings Doctor. What did it make you feel?”
The Doctor edged away from her.
“Feel?”
“Every sentient being in the universe who detected that signal felt something,” Tasha explained, “Something overpowering.”
“What?” The Doctor asked.
“Fear. Pure...unadulterated...dread.”
Clara eyed the creature fearfully. It advanced upon her slowly. Then it moved behind a pillar, obscuring her sight. She tried her best to keep it in her eyel-Clara kicked her heels on the floor. She was bored. She wondered what everyone was doing at home. Perhaps her Nan had finally lost it and strangled Linda with the Tinsel? That would be a sight to see.
Suddenly a lone figure emerged behind a pillar. The creature. She’d forgotten it. How had she forgotten it. She eyed the creature.
“I saw you...and then I forgot you. How does that work?” She asked.
The creature hissed and moved behind another pillar.
Clara kicked her heels on the floor. She was bored. She wondered what everyone was doing at home. Perhaps her Nan had finally lost it and strangled Linda with the Tinsel? That would be a sight to see. There was a hissing noise somewhere above her. It was beginning to get on her nerves.
“Right! What’s the signal? Where’s it coming from?” The Doctor asked, edging out of Tasha’s personal space.
Tasha rolled her eyes, annoyed.
“It’s a settlement. Human colony level tw- A farm basically!”
“Right. Anyone been for a look?”
“Any one ship lands, the rest will follow. There will be bloodshed. Fortunately, we got here first. Shielded the planet. We maintain the truce while blocking all of them.”
“Daleks, Cybermen, one of that lot could break through your defences,” the Doctor noted.
“Perhaps,” Tasha agreed, “But they’re afraid remember. Nobody wants to go first.”
“I do,” the Doctor said eagerly.
“I was counting on it,” Tasha grinned.
Confess hissed a voice behind Clara.
She turned and saw the creature again. The memories came flooding back.
Confess another voice hissed. A second creature stepped into view.
“What are you?!” Clara yelled, “Why do I keep forgetting you?!”
A third creature appeared. The three creatures advanced on her, their arms stretched wide.
Clara kicked her heels on the floor. She was bored. She wondered what everyone was doing at home. Perhaps her Nan had finally lost it and strangled Linda with the Tinsel? That would be a sight to see.
Confess, confess, confess, confess they chanted.
“I’m sorry?” Clara asked.
She turned and ran, straight into Tasha’s chapel. The Doctor and Tasha jumped and spun round at the intrusion.
“You ok?” the Doctor asked.
Clara paused. There was something...it was gone.
“Fine. Yeah, fine, sorry,” she scratched her head awkwardly.
“Right,” Tasha said making her way to the confession booth at the back of the room, “This is my personal teleport. I can put you down just outside the town. Find the source of the message and report back to me in one hour. And on your life Doctor, you will cause no trouble down there. ”
The Doctor climbed inside the booth.
“When do I?” He asked.
He paused.
“Don’t answer that.”
He closed the curtain behind him.
“It’s a massacre waiting to start, and I won’t let you start it. It would be the greatest pleasure to kill you Doctor...but that doesn’t mean I trust you.” Tasha said.
The Doctor opened the curtain.
“You’re a very screwed up person you know that?” he said and closed the curtain again.
Tasha pulled the curtain open and held out her hand.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m not an idiot. Everyone in this church is trained to see straight through holograms.”
“Ah. Brilliant.” Clara suddenly felt very self conscious.
“Give. Now,” Tasha emphasised, “You’re taking no technology of any kind down there.”
“What can I do with a key?” he pointed at Clara, “You, in now!”
Clara climbed inside the confession booth. The Doctor closed the curtain. Tasha pulled it open again.
“You can summon your TARDIS.”
“The TARDIS doesn’t work by remote! Fine! If it makes you feel any better, there we are!” he took off the chain holding the TARDIS key and tossed it at Tasha. She smiled and set the controls on the teleport. She turned to Clara.
“Are you sure you want to go down there?” she asked, “We have no idea what’s down there. There could be terrible danger.”
Clara shrugged.
“The alternative is Christmas Dinner.” She closed the curtain.
“And remember,” she called as the teleport powered up, “I want you back in one hour.”
The teleport activated beaming the Doctor and Clara down to the planet. Tasha stepped back and breathed a deep sigh. Albero stepped from the shadows. He stood close to Tasha.
“Are you sure the Doctor is the right person to send down there?” he asked.
“No,” Tasha said, “But I doubt even the Doctor could start a war on the fields of Trenzalore.”
The Doctor and Clara landed in the middle of a snowy field. Clara shivered.
“Brr it’s cold,” she said, rubbing her arms for warmth.
“Don’t worry,” the Doctor ran over and rubbed her arms to keep her warm, “There’s a heat loss filter in your hologram shell. Just give it a minute.”
“So!” The Doctor circled the clearing, “Sweet little town, half a universe in terror. Why?”
Clara turned. She saw something.
“Doctor?”
“What is it?”
Clara approached it. It seemed to be a frozen hand.
“It’s a hand...”
“Well don’t touch it Clara,” the Doctor cautioned.
Clara tapped it.
“Ah it’s fine. It’s only a statue!” she called, turning to the Doctor.
The Doctor froze.
“Clara get away from it!” he cried.
Suddenly Clara felt a hand grasp her foot. The statue had grabbed her. The Doctor grabbed her and attempted to pull her free.
“Don’t stop looking at it!” he cried, “There’s a Weeping Angel under the snow!”
“A what?!” Clara shouted.
“Looks like a statue, isn’t a statue. A quantum lock lifeform. It can only move when it’s not being observed. Now pull!”
“I can’t!” Clara wiggled as much as she could, “My shoe is stuck!”
The Doctor paused.
“Clara...you’re not wearing a shoe.”
“Good point.”
“Now pull!”
They pulled and then suddenly Clara was free. The sudden force sent them both tumbling down a nearby hill. The Doctor sprang to his feet pulling Clara with him. He spun around.
“More Angels! Look at them! Don’t blink! Don’t even blink! Blink and you’re dead Clara!”
He pointed. Clara turned and saw the Angels. Stone, intricately carved and yet with twisted demonic features.
“They’re climbing out of the snow!” Clara cried, “What are they doing here?!”
“Same as everybody else! They must have got past Tasha’s shield. Keep looking at them!” the Doctor shouted back.
Clara tried, but it was impossible.
“I can’t! The snow’s in my eyes!”
“Don’t worry! I just need to bring the TARDIS down!” The Doctor called.
“But you can’t fly it remotely!”
“No, but it can home in on the key!”
“You don’t have the key! Tasha took it!”
“She only took one.”
Clara turned to respond to this and witnessed the Doctor pull off his hair, revealing a bald head and a spare TARDIS key.
Handles sprung to life.
“Engines activating!”
The soldiers watched as the TARDIS vanished. One of them grabbed a nearby soldier by the arm.
“Fetch the Mother Superious. Now!” she hissed.
The soldier scurried off.
The TARDIS materialised around the Doctor and Clara. Clara covered her mouth and pointed at the Doctor’s bald head.
“Key in the quiff routine. Never fails!” The Doctor bounded around the console room, dumping his wig on Handles, “Okay, homing in on the mysterious message. Ooh. I like that. The mysterious message,” he waved his hand for effect.
“You shaved your head!” Clara shouted.
“Clever plan to get us and the TARDIS past the shield!” the Doctor responed.
Clara folded her arms.
“You got bored one night didn’t you?”
The Doctor bowed his head embarrassed.
“A tiny bit yeah.”
Clara leaned in.
“Is that what happened to your eyebrows?”
“No they’re just delicate. Right! Setting us down near the signal source! I’ll turn the engines on silent. Don’t want to cause a fuss.”
Clara grabbed the Doctor’s wig and threw it at him.
“Put it back on.”
“Why?”
“Your ears are like rocket fins.”
“I know,” he grinned.
The Doctor grabbed the Sonic screwdriver and placed it in his pocket, only for it to fall through the holographic pocket and straight to the floor. The Doctor looked at Clara.
“Clothes,” he said.
Clara stepped out of the TARDIS, wearing her normal clothes again. The Doctor followed, Handles under his arm and wearing a handsome frock coat with fur lining. Clara looked about. To her eyes it appeared to be a simple farming town. The houses were nice, plainly decorated and functional.
“So much better to be wearing clothes don’t you think?” She asked
The Doctor nodded but wasn’t really listening. He was scanning the surrounding area with his Sonic Screwdriver.
“Now what do we make of this place? It’s two O’clock in the afternoon. Must be very short days here. The message is coming from that tower.” The Doctor pointed at a nearby clock tower in the centre of the town. He frowned. “What do clock towers normally say? Midnight? Sometimes they say midnight...”
He grumbled and walked towards the clock tower, Clara on his heels.
“Primitives detected! Delete the primitives!” Handles cried.
The Doctor looked up and saw a man and a woman approaching. About middle-aged. The man was tall while the woman was short. To all eyes they appeared to be a happily married couple.
“Hello!” The Doctor called, “Hello there!”
He turned to Clara.
“Right we’re a couple from the next town. My name’s probably Hank or Rock or something.”
“Or Daisy,” Clara giggled.
“Shut up,” the Doctor turned to the couple, “Hello there! Good to meet you! Nice snow!”
The Man shook the Doctor’s hand.
“Most pleasant to meet you,” he said.
“Most pleasant. Most pleasant,” the woman agreed.
The man shook Clara’s hand too.
“I’m Abramal and this is my wife Marta.”
The Doctor smiled.
“I’m the Doctor. I’m a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. I stole a time machine and ran away and I’ve been flouting the principal law of my people ever since.”
The Doctor covered his mouth in shock. Abramal and Marta laughed.
“That wasn’t quite what I meant to say,” the Doctor said awkwardly.
Clara grinned.
“I’m Clara Oswald, I’m an English teacher from the planet Earth and I’ve run off with a man from space because I really fancy-“ she managed to cut herself off in time. The Doctor gave her a funny look.
“I think you had better stop talking until you get used to it,” Marta said.
“Used to what?” the Doctor asked.
Marta smiled and turned to Clara.
“What did you say your name was?” she asked.
“Bubbling personality masking bossy control freak,” Clara babbled.
“I’m wearing a wig!” the Doctor cried.
Abramal and Marta laughed again.
“Oh! OH! I see! Of course! It’s a truth field! Oh, that is so quaint! I haven’t seen a truth field in years!” the Doctor said.
“No one can lie in this town,” Abramal said, “Especially not this close to the tower.”
Abramal and Marta walked on.
“Doesn’t that make life a bit difficult?” he asked.
“Not at all!” Marta cried.
“Yes!” Abramal cried.
The two gave each other a look and walked on.
“This town, what’s it called?!” the Doctor shouted.
“It’s Christmas!” Abramal shouted.
The Doctor checked his watch which somehow gave him the exact date and time of wherever he was. Most of the time.
“It’s July!” he shouted.
“No! The town! The town is Christmas!” Marta called.
“Be happy here! Be well!” Abramal said as a farewell and the two walked away.
The Doctor walked towards the clock tower. Clara followed.
“How can a town be called Christmas?” she asked.
“I don’t know. How can an island be called Easter? Maybe it’s just nice here.” he responded.
He reached the clock tower doors and stopped. He turned to Clara mournfully.
“You know, I’m almost hesitant to find out what’s wrong...”
Then he smiled and opened the doors.
Tasha walked up to the space where the TARDIS had just been. She reached her hand and felt the empty space. She frowned and dropped her hand.
“Oh Doctor,” she said, “Whatever am I going to do with you?”
The Doctor and Clara walked into the Clock Tower. It seemed as if the town used it as some sort of dumping ground. Furniture covered the entire space. Clara walked off to explore. The Doctor turned...and saw it. He placed Handles on a nearby chair.
“There you are. What took you so long?” he asked.
Clara wandered back.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, “It’s only a crack in the wall.”
But the more she looked at the crack...the more it felt...wrong somehow. It was there in the wall opposite them, yet it was huge and a bright white light shone from within it. The Doctor looked at her sadly.
“I knew, I always knew it wasn’t over.”
“What is it?” Clara asked.
“A split in the skin of reality.”
The Doctor walked up to the crack and touched it slightly. As if a side effect from the crack, memories from long ago began to surface.
“Two parts of space and time that should never have touched... pressed together.”
“That’s like the crack from my bedroom wall when I was a little girl!”
“Ooh that’s bad. That’s very very not good.”
The Doctor opened the door marked “11” and looked in. The crack glared back at him.
“Of course. Who else?”
The Doctor shivered slightly. He turned to Clara.
“A tiny sliver of the 26th of June 2010, the day the universe blew up.” He explained.
“Missed that,” Clara said confused.
“I rebooted it, put it all back together again.”
“That’s good.”
“Well it was my TARDIS that blew it up in the first place. I felt a degree of responsibility. But the scar tissue remains. A structural weakness in the whole universe.”
He paused. Lightbulb.
“And someone’s trying to get through it from outside our universe from somewhere else! Of course! Of course! It make sense!”
“It does?” Clara asked.
“Yes! If you were trying to break through a wall, you’d choose the weakest part of the wall. If you were trying to break into this universe-No! If you were trying to break back into this universe you’d choose this crack!”
He pointed at Handles.
“You said Gallifrey! Why did you say Gallifrey?!” He asked.
“Analysis of message composition matches Gallifreyan origin according to TARDIS databanks,” Handles beeped.
“You said Gallifrey was gone,” Clara said.
“No, I said it was in another universe. The message is coming through here. At a guess the truth field is too. If it’s the Time Lords...if it’s the Time Lords!”
The Doctor pulled a small circular object form his pocket. He held it up. Clara could make out a strange symbol on it.
“The seal of the High Council of Gallifrey! Nicked it off the Master in the Death Zone. There is an algorithm imprinted in the atomic structure,” he placed the seal on Handles, “Use it to decode the message.”
“Message decoding. Message analysis proceeding. Information available. The message is a request for information.” Handles beeped.
“It’s a question! Why can’t you just say it’s a question?!” The Doctor said, annoyed.
“It is being projected on a repeating cycle across all of Time and Space,” Handles stated.
“The oldest question in the universe...” the Doctor muttered, realising, “Hidden in plain sight.”
“Warning. Translation will be available to all life forms in range.” Handles warned.
“Well they’ve all come a long way,” the Doctor handwaved.
“Translation follows,” Handles began, “Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
Slowly his voice began to change, taking a more human and more regal voice. The voice of a Time Lord.
“Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
The Daleks spun round. It couldn’t be...their oldest enemies...the Time Lords?
“Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
The Cybermen looked at each other, sharing information across the Cyberiad. Soon the meaning was clear. The Cybermen instantly began to prepare.
“Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
The Sontarans cheered in victory, chanting their battle cry of “Sontar Ha!”. War was coming. And they would be a part of it.
“Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
A shadowy figure leaned back in his throne. Soon the time would come to play his part. This...event was exactly what he required.
“Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
Tasha looked around as the message boomed. She looked at the surrounding soldiers.
“Patch me through to the Doctor. Now!”
The Doctor leaned against the crack. His eyes mournful.
“A question only I can answer,” he muttered, “and a truth field so I can’t lie. If I give my name they’ll know they’ve found the right place and that it’s safe to come through.”
“The Time Lords?” Clara asked, “So you answer the question and they all come through?” If you do it, what happens?”
The Doctor searched his pockets and removed a small device. He handed it to Clara.
“You need to take this to the TARDIS and place it in the charger slot for the Sonic.” He said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Hell. All hell. That’s what happens if the Time Lords come through. Now just go to the TARDIS and do as I say.”
Clara nodded and ran. The Doctor watched her go. It wasn’t technically a lie...
“Doctor!” Tasha’s voice boomed across the town. Her face appeared above the clock tower, anger visible on her face.
“Doctor!” She boomed again, “Speak with me! Face me now!”
Clara looked up at the sky with terror and ran to the TARDIS opening the doors and running inside. She placed the device in the sonic charger.
“Doctor!” Tasha shouted again.
The Doctor walked up the stairs to the top of the bell tower. He approached Tasha’s face.
“I have one thing to say to you. Nose clippers!”
No flirting now. He was serious.
“Mother Superious,” he called, “There is only one thing I need from you. This planet. What is it called?”
Tasha looked down at him.
“Trenzalore.”
The Doctor’s hearts plummeted. This was it. This was really it.
The TARDIS made several noises. Clara looked up anxiously.
“Ok, are you doing a thing? Are you doing a clever thing?”
“If you speak your name, the Time Lords will return.” Tasha boomed.
“If they return, they will return in peace!” The Doctor pleaded.
“It doesn’t matter. They will be met with a war that will never end. The Time War will begin anew. You know that Doctor.”
The TARDIS engines stopped. Clara froze.
“Done?” she asked.
She ran to the doors and pulled them open to see- her home. She stopped and turned to the TARDIS. It slowly began to take off.
“NO!” she cried “Don’t you dare!”
She grabbed the TARDIS door handle. It shook violently trying to shake her off, but Clara held tight. Then it vanished, taking Clara with it. And then Clara knew nothing but the cold.
“They’re asking for my help!” the Doctor cried.
“If you give it then war will be the consequence! I can not let that happen! At any cost!” Tasha cried.
“Speak your name and this world will burn!” she warned.
“No. No!” the Doctor cried, “This planet is protected!” He spun and soniced the bell. It rang, loudly across the town. “I will protect this town for as long as it takes. For the rest of my life if needs be. And I plan to live a very long time!”
Tasha’s face vanished...only to return.
“I do still think you’re sexy.”
She vanished again.
In an instance there was a shimmering blue light as the man stepped forward from nothing, a heavy cloak about him and a hood over his head. The spaceship was dark and gloomy, the walls barely visible. A strong, confident, yet youthful voice emanated from the hooded man.
“I bring proof. Of courage. And comradeship.”
The man pulled forth a device known to all across the universe as a Dalek eyestalk. He held it aloft as he pulled back his hood, revealing a boyish face upon which sat a mop of hair styled into a quiff. The man could not have been more than 30 years old. Yet his eyes. His eyes were much, much older. The face would be familiar to many across the universe, although most would not remember why. To some, the face was recognisably the eleventh face of the Time Lord known as... The Doctor.
The Doctor turned to address the large empty space he stood in. He felt like he was on a stage and so he put on a bit of bravado as he continued to speak.
“What is this ship and why are you here? Identify yourselves by species and planet of origin!”
A steady pulse ran through the ship. Almost like a heartbeat. Blue lights shone from every space in the room. At eye level. Almost like eyes themselves. The Doctor lowered the Dalek eyestalk hesitantly as he considered his next move, his suspicions about the owners of this ship grew. And then-
“Exterminate!”
A Dalek, bronze plated with its gun arm twitching moved into the light, advancing on the Doctor.
“Exterminate!” it cried again.
“Exterminate!” another Dalek moved into the space.
“Exterminate!” Another Dalek.
Another.
Another.
The Doctor quickly lost count. He was surrounded. He had to get out of there. He pressed his finger to the hidden communicator in his ear.
“Handles!” He hissed.
The Doctor ducked, as a Dalek ray narrowly missed his head and obliterated a chunk of wall behind him.
“”Handles!” The Doctor yelled again as another ray just missed him by a few centimetres, he could feel a few of his hairs singing from where it had passed. The Doctor grew impatient.
“HANDLES!” he yelled. At this, a blue light appeared around the Doctor... and he vanished.
“Exterminate!” a Dalek cried futilely as it rolled over the spot the Doctor had been moments before. If it hadn’t been for the agitated Daleks and the obliterated chunks of wall... it was if he had never been there.
“I said ‘Put me on a ship’. Handles, I didn’t say ‘Put me on a Dalek ship’.”
Back in the safety of the TARDIS console room, the Doctor threw his cloak to one side while making a mental note that cloaks were almost certainly cool. He stormed up to the TARDIS console and approached a robotic head wired in to the TARDIS systems. The head, was recognisably a Cyberman’s, yet with the organic matter removed and its systems rewired. ‘Handles’ was the nickname the Doctor had given it.
“Don’t put me on a Dalek ship when I’m holding a broken bit of Dalek!” The Doctor cried. He whacked Handles on the forehead with the Dalek eyestalk which he was still holding. This only succeeded in the eyestalk bouncing off Handles and hitting the Doctor in his own forehead.
“OW!” he cried, more out of annoyance than actual pain. He grabbed Handles and walked to the other side of the console.
“You did not indicate a preference.” Handles said smoothly in a polite, charming yet emotionless voice. More pleasant to the ear than a Cyberman’s, yet not quite human.
“Use your head. It’s not like you’ve got a lot of alternatives.” The Doctor snapped sarcastically.
Handles remained silent. From experience he knew not to respond to the Doctor’s sarcasm. Cybermen were not built to trade wits.
The Doctor flicked on the TARDIS scanner and looked at the assembling ships now massing around the small planet. There were more ships than he could count. He held Handles up so the robot could get a clear view of the screen.
“Look at them,” the Doctor ranted, “They’re all here. Daleks, Sontarans, Terileptils, Slitheen. And they’re not even fighting! They’re just parked! Why?!”
“The message was received across the universe.” Handles interjected in response to the Doctor’s query.
“Ah yes the message!” The Doctor flicked a switch on the console and a short, three note tone echoed around the console. “Even I can’t translate it! I mean, why is everyone here if they don’t understand it?”
“...You’re here.” Handles said bluntly.
The Doctor waved the response away and placed Handles awkwardly on one of the TARDIS’s many levers. “Well you know, I’m OCD. What’s their excuse? What does this message mean? What do they even think is down there?! Really amazing ice cream?!”
The tone of the message was cut out suddenly by the sound of a ringing phone. The Doctor reached for a spot on the console and then paused. Ah. Yes. That was the old console room.
“Oh no.” He muttered. “Try and identify planet Boring for me, Handles. And remind me!” He called back to Handles as he walked to the TARDIS doors. “I’ve got to patch the telephone back through the console unit. This is getting ridiculous!” He cried, remembering a specific event which left him hanging from the bottom of the TARDIS above Trafalgar Square.
“Attention. Information available.” Handles stated.
The Doctor, almost to the doors, paused and ran excitedly back to Handles like an overgrown child.
“Okay?” He asked, waiting for Handles response, on edge.
“You must patch the telephone device back through the console unit.” Handles beeped almost happily.
The Doctor’s face dropped.
“No. No. No. No no no no no. Not now. Remind me later.”
“When?” Queried the Cyberman head.
“I don’t know. Just later. Just pick a time.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. Just any old time. When you think I’ve forgotten.” The Doctor explained.
“... When?” Handles responded, confused.
The Doctor sighed. “Just pick a random number. Express that number as a quantity of minutes and when that time has elapsed, remind me to patch the telephone device back through the console unit.” The Doctor stared at Handles expectantly.
The lights on Handles forehead flashed as he pondered the Doctor’s words.
“Affirmative.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “How those Cyber evenings must fly!” he shouted sarcastically as he opened the TARDIS doors, just as two spacecraft flew over the TARDIS, and answered the phone.
“Hello , The TARDIS!” he shouted cheerily as he brought the phone inside the console room.
Meanwhile at that exact moment several hundred years ago on the Planet Earth, Clara Oswald dashed frantically around her flat, carrying Christmas crackers, plates and other assorted items with the phone balanced between her cocked head and her shoulder.
“Emergency! You’re my boyfriend!” She shouted down the phone.
The Doctor smiled a goofy grin.
“Ding dong! I’m a bit rusty but I’ll glance at a manual!”
“No! Not actually my boyfriend!” Clara cried.
“Oh.” The Doctor slumped. A little disappointed. That lasted shorter than his brief affair with Jane Austen. “It’s a roller coaster this phonecall.”
“But I need a boyfriend really quickly!” Clara shouted.
“Well I hope you’re nicer to the next one!” The Doctor snapped.
“No! Shut up! Christmas Dinner! Me! Cooking!” Clara shouted as she threw several Christmassy decorations on the table.
“So?” The Doctor asked.
“So I may have... accidentally... invented a boyfriend.” Clara mumbled, embarrassed.
The Doctor laughed.
“I did that once! And let me tell you, there’s no easy way to get rid of an android!” He chuckled, remembering. The scanner on the TARDIS beeped. The Doctor looked at it with growing interest.
“No. Not an android. A pretend one. An imaginary one. And I said he’d be coming to Christmas dinner! If they thought I didn’t have a boyfriend, they’d have brought one for me. They’re desperate for me to get married. My Dad’s girlfriend wants me to have kids!”
“Well that won’t work. You’re both women!” The Scanner beeped again catching the Doctor’s attention. He looked and saw a new ship appear amongst the many surrounding the planet. “Yeah.” The Doctor mumbled, losing interest in Clara’s plight fast. “That’s a new one. Rings a bell. Handles, that’s a new ship. Okay, we’ll take the TARDIS this time.”
The Doctor ran round the console pushing buttons and pulling levers as Clara continued to talk.
“I need you to come to Christmas dinner. Just do that for me. Come to Christmas dinner and be my Christmas date.”
The Doctor, realising Clara was still on the line, quickly shouted down the phone. “Sorry! Missed that last bit. Got to dash.”
Before Clara could even say a word of resistance, the Doctor ended the call.
The Doctor opened the TARDIS door slowly and shoved Handles out the door. The Cyberhead made no noise. The Doctor stepped out and placed the phone back on its receiver.
“Fat lot of good you are. You’re supposed to give me the all clear.” He grunted at the head.
The Doctor looked about. The TARDIS had landed in a hallway. The ship was cold. And very very blue. That was good. He liked blue. A door stood at the end of the hallway. The Doctor stepped towards it with confidence and shouted his greeting as the door opened.
“Hello! Don’t be alarmed! I come in –“
The Doctor stopped mid sentence.
“-peace.” He muttered.
Cybermen lay in stasis in pods across the room. More than he could count. A small alarm sounded. The Cybermen began to awaken. Not good. A Cyberman awoke. It looked at the Doctor. And then looked at Handles. Very not good. The Doctor raised his free hand hesitantly.
“Now there’s a very good explanation for this. It’s really not as bad as it looks.” He stammered.
“Alert! Alert!” The Cyberman boomed. “Intruder detected! The Intruder will be upgraded!”
“Argh! No!” The Doctor dashed out of the room as the Cybermen followed, firing energy bolts at his retreating form. The Doctor shook Handles angrily.
“You could’ve mentioned it was one of your own ships!” He yelled at the head.
“I have developed a fault.” Handles responded calmly.
“Delete!” The Cybermen roared emotionless behind the Doctor. He turned to them as he ran.
“Sorry! Sorry for disturbing your nap! I’ll just pop off shall I? No harm done? Let bygones be bygones?”
Another energy bolt fired past the Doctor.
“I’ll take that as a no!”
“I have developed a fault. I have developed a fault. I have developed a fault.” Handles repeated.
“SHUT UP!” The Doctor roared as he reached the TARDIS and dashed inside. He threw Handles onto the console and prepared to set new co-ordinates. Then the phone rang. The Doctor reached for it, then remembered again it was now outside. Outside where a horde of angry Cybermen were waiting. The Doctor braced himself, adjusted his bow tie and ran to the doors, pulling them open, grabbing the phone and slamming the doors shut again as more energy bolts rained upon him.
“I need you! I’m cooking Christmas dinner!” Clara shouted down the phone.
The Doctor pulled a lever and the TARDIS took off, appearing once more above the nameless planet. Not to be so easily outwitted, the Cybership gave chase firing at the TARDIS.
“But there’s a funny little planet and a mysterious message and the whole universe is turning up-“ The Doctor blathered.
“Cybership locked on and attacking.” Handles warned.
“And I’m being shot at by Cybermen!” The Doctor yelled.
“It’s my family! I could use a little help.” Clara insisted.
“So could I!” The Doctor replied.
“Well can’t we do both?!” Clara panicked, trying to compromise.
The Doctor thought about this. “Yeah why not?”
The Cybership fired two missiles at the TARDIS. The Doctor threw the phone to one side and pulled several levers. The TARDIS vanished just as the missiles were about to hit. The Cybership zoomed past where the TARDIS had been only moments before and when the TARDIS showed no signs of returning, the Cybership returned to its position above the small planet.
Clara Oswald was not in control. And the one thing Clara Oswald hated above anything else, apart from that little old lady with the beady eyes and the corgi from hell at the paper shop, it was not being in control. Clara ran through all the things likely to go wrong in her mind. The turkey could not be done in time. It could be done too long and set the kitchen on fire. Gran could drink too much wine. Linda could accidentally choke on a turkey bone. Oh wait. That one didn’t sound too bad. Clara looked round at her family. Her father sat to her left. He’d aged a lot over the past few years. There were a few moments where it was almost as if he was a different man. It was hard to believe the balding, middle aged man next to her was the dark haired youth who had took her out to play football in the parks of Blackpool, swearing she’d one day become a footballer. Next to him sat Linda. His girlfriend. Blonde and posh, she was an alarmingly poor match for her father. Not that he wasn’t good enough for her, oh no, Linda was a cow and had yet to prove to Clara she deserved to be with her father. Clara smiled to herself as she remembered describing Linda to the Doctor one day; “A Cruella De Ville, Miss Kizlet and Regina George soufflé”. Finally, on the other side of the table sat Clara’s Gran. God she loved her Gran. Gran was just one of those people who knew exactly the right thing to say and wasn’t afraid to say something rude because she could get away with it. If she wasn’t half the woman her Gran was when she was old, then she went wrong somewhere Clara often thought to herself. The table was a rush job. The table quickly pulled from the kitchen and draped with as many decorations as Clara could find in a hurry. Clara looked at the assembled guests and decided to play her duties as host.
“Everyone okay? Gran you need another drink?” She asked.
“No, no, fine.” Her Gran said, sipping slowly from her glass.
“Uncle Reg is going to be late.” Clara’s Dad observed, glancing at his watch. His old one. Not the new one Linda had bought him.
“Yes.” Linda added. “His friend Phil was looking everywhere for him.”
Clara glanced at Linda coldly.
“His husband Phil.” She corrected.
Linda glanced back at Clara.
“A Civil Partnership does not a husband make.”
Clara’s eyes narrowed. Correction. If there’s one thing she hated more than not being in control, it was ignorant bigots.
“Well I’m sure you can resume that conversation from last Christmas,” Clara snapped, “And I for one am looking forward to sticking my head out of a window and praying for a merciful death.”
Silence. Clara and Linda continued to glare at each other. Eventually, Clara’s Dad coughed awkwardly and the two women dropped the glares.
“How’s the turkey doing?” Linda broke the silence.
“Great! Yeah, yeah, it’s doing great. Well, dead and decapitated, but that’s Christmas when you’re a turkey!” Clara responded, a little too fast.
Linda glanced at Clara coldly once again.
“Actually, I think I will have a little more.” Clara’s Gran held up her now empty glass.
The tension broken, Clara refilled the glass.
“There you go Gran!” Clara said cheerfully. As she poured, her Gran gave a small conspiratorial wink, only noticeable to the two of them.
“Did you put it in early enough?” Her father asked, concerned.
“Dad, I put it in when you phoned me.” Clara lied.
“I emailed you some instructions.” He added.
Clara pulled out a large wad of paper from the cabinet behind her.
“You certainly did.” She said under her breath.
“Are these from your holiday?” Linda’s voice called.
Clara glanced around and noticed Linda casually going through photos Clara had displayed on the mantelpiece behind the table. Clara’s eyes narrowed. She hated people going through her things without asking.
“Yep. Portugal.” Clara said, trying to be civil and also thankful she’d hidden the photos of her at Akhaten and with Angie and Artie aboard Porridge’s ship in her bedroom.
“So...where is he?” Linda asked.
Ah. Brilliant. Clara racked her brains and came up with the best lie she could:
“Well...taking the photographs.”
“You didn’t take any of him?” Linda asked, suspicious.
“I can’t. He’s horribly disfigured. And anyway, his wife might see them.” Clara laughed awkwardly.
Linda only stared.
“You and your sense of humour.” She muttered.
“Yep. It’s great having one of those.” Clara responded.
“I think I will have a drop more.” Clara’s Gran broke in.
“But I just gave you- oh.” Clara noticed the already empty glass. “You’ve taken care of that, haven’t you, you clever old thing. Just give us a moment, checking a thing.”
Clara ran out of the room.
“Nervous. Bless.” Linda commented.
Clara ran into the kitchen, praying under her breath. She glanced out of the window and all her prayers were answered. The TARDIS stood in the field. Parked and waiting. Clara couldn’t help but grin. She dashed out of the flat, down the stairs, across the field and into the TARDIS.
“Oh Doctor!” she shouted. “I so need you-“
She stopped. And stared.
“Clara!” the Doctor yelled. Stark naked. He moved towards her, arms outsetched for a hug.
“No!” Clara shouted “Don’t move! No! Stop that! Move back behind the console now! Keep the console between you and me at all times! Don’t do anything!”
The Doctor instantly looked concerned.
“Why? What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked.
Clara turned her back to the Doctor.
“You’re naked.”
“Yes!” he shouted proudly. “I am naked! I wondered if you’d notice.”
“Doctor,” Clara asked carefully “why are you naked?”
“Because I’m going to church!” The Doctor responded, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Honestly.” He mutered, pulling a lever on the TARDIS. There was a bright flash and then
“Better?”
Clara turned slowly. And the Doctor was wearing clothes again. His traditional purple frock coat and waistcoat. Clara breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, that was...quick.” She noted.
The Doctor smiled a playful smile.
“Hologram clothes, projected directly onto your visual cortex.”
“Oh... so you’re still naked underneath then?”
The Doctor shrugged.
“Everyone’s naked underneath.”
Clara shuddered.
“Don’t say things like that. It’s Christmas.”
Suddenly she remembered.
“Come meet my family!”
The Doctor pointed at the scanner, where a planet was in full focus surrounded by too many spaceships to count.
“Can we go and get shot at afterwards?” He asked almost like how a child would ask to go out and play.
“After this, I will be very happy to be shot.” Clara responded.
The two walked out of the TARDIS and the Doctor locked the door behind them. He didn’t want someone to randomly stumble into the TARDIS. Goodness knows enough trouble had been caused the last time that happened. Clara walked on ahead.
“So you don’t like Christmas?” he called to her.
She paused and turned back to him.
“Christmas is a whole year of my family in one meal. The turkey is only there to stop them eating each other.” She replied.
“Maybe you’re not reading the jokes in the crackers. Those are amazing!” the Doctor bubbled.
Clara grinned. “I’ve missed you!” she admitted and hugged him.
“I’ve missed you too Clara Oswald.” He replied.
Suddenly Clara stiffened. She detached herself from the Doctor.
“Naked!!” She cried.
“Yes I am!” he said proudly.
Clara and the Doctor burst into the living room.
“Hello. So...err...here he is.” She said awkwardly.
“Hello the Oswalds!” The Doctor shouted. “Merry Christmas!”
He shook her father and Linda’s hands. He then shook her Gran’s.
“Hello handsome.” He said in a flirtly voice. “Anyone for Twister?!” He shouted, addressing them all.
“So this is the Doctor.” Clara tried to regain control of the situation. “He’s my boyfriend.” She looked at her family. Her father and Linda were shocked, her Gran had a smile on her face. “Isn’t anyone going to say hello?” Clara asked confused.
Her Gran downed her glass. “Hello.” She said seductively.
“Excuse me a moment.” The Doctor tugged Clara’s sleeve and pulled her to one side.
“Listen,” he whispered “I’ve got an idea to break the ice. Why don’t I project my clothes onto their visual cortexes too?”
Clara groaned internally. “So, just to be clear, no one except me can see your clothes?”
The Doctor nodded. “Yes, and I think it might be causing tension.”
Clara’s Gran leaned towards them. “Are we playing Twister now?” She asked with a smile on her face.
Clara turned to the Doctor. “Get in the kitchen!” she hissed.
“Eh? Sorry?” The Doctor asked.
Clara grabbed him and pushed him out of the room. She turned to her family and said “Sorry. He’s Swedish.”
She ran out of the room leaving everyone bewildered.
Clara shut the Kitchen door behind her and threw her head back. Of course it all went wrong. She looked at the Doctor who was staring at her oven with immense interest. She walked over to him.
“Doctor, please-“
“Oh, that’s never going to work is it?” he interrupted, pointing at the turkey which was slowly cooking.
“Why? What’s wrong? Do you think it’s not done yet?” Clara asked concerned.
“I think a decent vet would give it half a chance.” The Doctor replied.
Clara grumbled.
“Well, okay, use an app!” she responded.
“An App?” The Doctor asked confused.
“On your Screwdriver! App it!” she mimed buzzing the turkey with the Sonic Screwdriver.
“Most certainly not.” The Doctor stated. “It doesn’t do turkey. Nothing does turkey. You’d need a time machine!”
Clara paused. She slowly looked at the Doctor. He looked at her confused.
“What?”
“You can’t keep using the TARDIS like this!” he shouted, annoyed as they walked into the TARDIS.
Clara tried to balance the turkey as best she could. “Like what?” she called.
“Missed birthdays, restauraunt bookings and please, just learn how to use iPlayer!” he shouted back.
He led the way under the TARDIS and pulled open a small hatch. A wave of heat hit Clara in the face.
“Oooh. Vortex cooking?” she asked.
“Yep, exposure to the time winds.” The Doctor replied “It’ll either come up a treat, or quite possibly lay some eggs.”
Clara laid the Turkey in the space and the Doctor slammed the hatch shut. There was a beep from overhead.
“Information available.” a robotic voice called down.
“What was that?” Clara asked.
The Doctor led the way upstairs and pointed at Handles.
“Oh, just a bit of a Cyberman. He’ll get us to the church on time.”
“I have developed a fault.” Handles responded.
“The organics are all gone, but there’s a full set of data banks.” The Doctor explained. “Found it at the Maldovar market. Knock down price. I got a head!”
He looked at Clara with a huge grin. She looked at him blankly.
“That was a pun.” She remarked.
“I know!” beamed the Doctor, “Loads more of those bad boys in Christmas crackers! You should get yourself a box! I can lose a whole day!”
He turned to Handles.
“Handles, what have you got.”
The TARDIS took off and landed. Clara had no idea where.
“Planet identified from analysis of message.”
“Right cool.” Said the Doctor. He dragged Clara over to Handles and they both waited. “Go on then. Okay, tell us. What is the planet? Go on.”
Handles beeped. “Processing official designation.”
The Doctor and Clara waited.
“Processing.”
The Doctor groaned and walked off.
“In your own time dear. Don’t rush.” He said sarcastically.
“So why haven’t you just gone down there and had a look?” Clara asked.
“Oh it’s shielded. Even the TARDIS can’t break through it.” The Doctor responded with a wave of his hand.
Handles beeped.
“Gallifrey.”
The Doctor stopped. Clara turned to him. He turned towards her. They shared a look. The Doctor walked back to Handles.
“What did you say?” He asked.
Handles’ machinery whirred and the robot beeped again.
“Gallifrey.”
“What are you talking about? Gallifrey? What do you mean?” The Doctor asked sternly.
“Confirmed. Planet designation, Gallifrey.”
The Doctor angrily grabbed Handles and stormed to the scanner, thrusting the robot head at the screen and angrily pointing at the planet.
“You see that?!” He ranted at the robot. “Gallifrey is my home. I know it when I see it. That is not Gallifrey!”
“Doctor?” Clara asked cautiously. “Are you okay?”
The Doctor forcefully rammed Handles onto his stand and leaned over the console, his shoulders slumped.
“It’s not Gallifrey. Gallifrey is gone.” He muttered.
“Unless, unless you saved it.” Clara interjected. “You thought you might have.”
The Doctor slowly walked towards the TARDIS doors, Clara at his heels, braced himself and opened the doors. He looked down at the planet below. It was blue and small. Not large and orange. He turned to Clara mournfully.
“Even if it survived, it’s gone from this universe.” He pointed with a long arm at the planet below. “That is not my home.” He said adamantly. He turned back into the TARDIS, shutting the doors behind him. He leaned over the console with his head bowed.
“It can’t be.” He murmured.
Clara took a step forward, about to offer some words of comfort when a loud foghorn blared from outside the TARDIS doors. A large white light beamed into the console room. The Doctor spun round. The mournful expression was gone, instantly replaced by a boyish grin once again.
“What’s that?” Clara asked.
The Doctor bounded to the doors and pulled them open, revealing a massive ship that reminded Clara of a computer. Large circuit boards decorated the large tower like vessel.
“Who are they?” she asked.
“The Papal Mainframe!” The Doctor shouted. “They’re the ones who shielded the planet, they can get us down there!”
A hologram of a dark haired woman with ritualistic markings on her face appeared on the ship. She looked down at them with piercing eyes and then smiled a flirtatious smile. She raised a finger and beckoned sedutctively.
“Friend of yours?” Clara asked.
“Tasha Lem! The Mother Superious! She’s inviting us aboard!” the Doctor cried. He handed Clara a small pill. “Here eat this.”
Clara popped it in her mouth. It tasted slightly of jelly baby.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Portable hologram shell. You can’t go to church with your clothes on!” The Doctor responded.
Clara looked at him, a glare of terror on her face.
Clara shifted uncomfortably. She hated being naked. To the outside observer, Clara was wearing a pleasant yellow jumper and a skirt. In reality, Clara was stark naked. And so was the Doctor. The Doctor, leaving Handles in the TARDIS, led the way down an appealing red carpet. The spaceship’s interior was an official deep black with highlights of blue scattered around. Clara guessed these blue highlights carried important data and information across the ship. The TARDIS had landed on the end of a long hallway and a red carpet ran to a small staircase, atop which stood a very official looking woman with dark hair and strange markings over her face. This, Clara guessed, was Tasha Lem. She wore a beautiful dress that trailed behind her. She was flanked by several soldiers. More soldiers stood on the outside of the red carpet. Escorts to guide us the right way? Or guards to make sure we don’t escape? Clara thought, not sure which one was right. The Doctor walked calmly ahead. He certainly seemed very comfortable here, but then again the Doctor seemed comfortable anywhere. “Walk in and pretend you own the place” the Doctor had told her once. She scurried to stay by his side.
“I don’t feel like I’m wearing anything!” She hissed.
“I know!” The Doctor responded. “Relaxing isn’t it?”
“What is this place?”
“The church of the Papal Mainframe. Security hub of the known universe.”
“A security church?”
“Keeping you safe, in this world...and the next.”
The Doctor reached Tasha Lem at the end of the carpet. He swept into a deep bow, his pointy chin almost touching his toes.
“I venerate the exaltation of the Mother Superious.”
A Colonel, his name tag identified him as Albero Clara noted, looked down at them.
“Welcome to the Papal Mainframe. Your nudity is appreciated.”
Clara suddenly felt self conscious.
Tasha stared down at the Doctor officially...then smiled and grinned. She winked.
“Hey babes.”
The Doctor grinned back.
“Loving the frock.”
She smiled.
“Is that a new body?” she asked. “Give us a twirl.”
“This old thing?!” The Doctor laughed. “I’ve had it for centuries!”
He spun on the spot.
“It’s nice though...tight.” Tasha muttered.
Clara coughed awkwardly.
“Hello! Also here!” She butted in.
“Clara, this is Tasha Lem, head of the church of the Papal Mainframe. Tash, this is my...” The Doctor stopped. He looked at Clara and tried to think of the right word. Companion? Assistant? Friend? He settled on one. “Associate. Clara Oswald. Miss Clara Oswald!”
Tasha nodded politely to Clara. She turned to Albero her.
“We’ll go to my chapel.” She whispered.
Tasha turned to the assembled group.
“All honours in place!” she cried. “No sacrifices required!”
Clara gasped.
“Sacrifices?!” she asked.
“Oh of course. Sacrifice is a common ritual. Sacrifice Tuesdays are great fun.” Tasha responded.
Clara wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or not as she followed the Doctor and Tasha through a large doorway.
Clara tagged along behind the Doctor and Tasha. Tasha led the way, lifting her dress as she walked almost regally. Clara rubbed her shoulder anxiously. She knew they were alone, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched. She sensed eyes above her, yet when she looked she saw nothing. Something hissed near her. She shivered. She looked up. The Doctor and Tasha were deep in hushed conversation.
“You two – um – know each other then?” She asked cautiously.
The Doctor turned back and grinned.
“Well she’s tried to kill me, what, four times? Five?” He explained.
“Well who wouldn’t? You’re so pretty.” Tasha added.
She turned to see Clara’s look of terror.
“Oh take that look off your face. My oath of non-homicide is on record. I haven’t committed a nonsancitfied murder in twelve years. And that was just a fun thing.”
“Doctor?” Clara asked, baffled.
“On Tasha’s home planet, the ecosystem is so competitive, the indigious life-forms evolved into compulsive killers just to survive,” Explained the Doctor. “Sort of like Earth really.”
“Thanks,” Clara replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“For us, the road to peace and virtue is truly divine for it is inclined against our natures,” Tasha commented.
“Plus they only kill bad people,” The Doctor added.
“And there’s always one to hand, if you’re feeling frisky,” noted Tasha.
The Doctor coughed awkwardly.
“It was Tasha who shielded the planet,” the Doctor said after an umcomfortable silence, “But you could sneak me down there couldn’t you Tash?”
Tasha led the way to a large, wooden door. Completely out of place on the spaceship.
“I would have conditions,” she replied.
Tasha was about to open the door and then paused. Tasha turned to the Doctor, looking at his face.
“Oh! You have a new face too!” She cried.
The Doctor went incredibly red.
Tasha turned to Clara with an awkward smile on her face.
“I have confidential matters to discuss with the Babe.”
“BABE?!” Clara exclaimed.
“Sorry. Doctor now, isn’t it?” Tasha responded, “Anyway, I have confidential matters to discuss with the Doctor. Would you excuse us?”
“Anything you have to say to me, you can say to Clara as well,” the Doctor interjected.
Clara smiled proudly.
“Well,” the Doctor added, “Quite a lot of it. Probably about half. Maybe a smidge under?” He paused, “Actually Clara would you mind waiting out here, please?”
“No worries. You two get yourselves a room.” Clara said with a wink.
“Yes, quite,” the Doctor said, “No! Stop it!”
“Boss of the psycho space nuns. So you!”
Tasha turned to Clara.
“You are a sanctified guest,” she added, “You will be perfectly safe. But if anyone does annoy you, please inform me, and I will personally put them to death... It would be no trouble... Even if you see someone you don’t like the look of...”
Tasha walked through the door. The Doctor gave Clara an apologetic smile and followed, leaving her on her own.
“Well,” The Doctor began. The door closed.
Clara kicked her heels on the floor. She was bored. She wondered what everyone was doing at home. Perhaps her Nan had finally lost it and strangled Linda with the Tinsel? That would be a sight to see. Clara looked up...and stopped. A lone figure in a black suit was approaching her. Long and thin, with long spindly fingers attached to large fleshy hands, a large head with no mouth and eyes as black as sin, it was if it had walked out of Clara’s nightmares. It hissed with a rattly voice and advanced on her. Clara backed towards the door slowly.
“Doctor?” she called, afraid.
The Doctor sauntered into Tasha’s chapel like an elephant in a china shop. As in to say he bounced in. The Doctor walked over to an ornate bed like sculpture as Tasha pulled some wine from a cupboard.
“That altar looks like a bed!” he called as he sat on it.
Tasha turned.
“That bed looks like an altar,” she said flirtily.
The Doctor gulped. Tasha walked over to the Doctor and handed him a glass of wine. The Doctor took a sip, made a face and spat it back in the glass. Tasha rolled her eyes.
“Excuse me,” she said while leaning into as much of the Doctor’s personal space as possible. She pressed a button on the side of the bed and the sound of the mysterious message played through the room.
“That message,” she monologued, “is being transmitted though all of space and time. You have feelings Doctor. What did it make you feel?”
The Doctor edged away from her.
“Feel?”
“Every sentient being in the universe who detected that signal felt something,” Tasha explained, “Something overpowering.”
“What?” The Doctor asked.
“Fear. Pure...unadulterated...dread.”
Clara eyed the creature fearfully. It advanced upon her slowly. Then it moved behind a pillar, obscuring her sight. She tried her best to keep it in her eyel-Clara kicked her heels on the floor. She was bored. She wondered what everyone was doing at home. Perhaps her Nan had finally lost it and strangled Linda with the Tinsel? That would be a sight to see.
Suddenly a lone figure emerged behind a pillar. The creature. She’d forgotten it. How had she forgotten it. She eyed the creature.
“I saw you...and then I forgot you. How does that work?” She asked.
The creature hissed and moved behind another pillar.
Clara kicked her heels on the floor. She was bored. She wondered what everyone was doing at home. Perhaps her Nan had finally lost it and strangled Linda with the Tinsel? That would be a sight to see. There was a hissing noise somewhere above her. It was beginning to get on her nerves.
“Right! What’s the signal? Where’s it coming from?” The Doctor asked, edging out of Tasha’s personal space.
Tasha rolled her eyes, annoyed.
“It’s a settlement. Human colony level tw- A farm basically!”
“Right. Anyone been for a look?”
“Any one ship lands, the rest will follow. There will be bloodshed. Fortunately, we got here first. Shielded the planet. We maintain the truce while blocking all of them.”
“Daleks, Cybermen, one of that lot could break through your defences,” the Doctor noted.
“Perhaps,” Tasha agreed, “But they’re afraid remember. Nobody wants to go first.”
“I do,” the Doctor said eagerly.
“I was counting on it,” Tasha grinned.
Confess hissed a voice behind Clara.
She turned and saw the creature again. The memories came flooding back.
Confess another voice hissed. A second creature stepped into view.
“What are you?!” Clara yelled, “Why do I keep forgetting you?!”
A third creature appeared. The three creatures advanced on her, their arms stretched wide.
Clara kicked her heels on the floor. She was bored. She wondered what everyone was doing at home. Perhaps her Nan had finally lost it and strangled Linda with the Tinsel? That would be a sight to see.
Confess, confess, confess, confess they chanted.
“I’m sorry?” Clara asked.
She turned and ran, straight into Tasha’s chapel. The Doctor and Tasha jumped and spun round at the intrusion.
“You ok?” the Doctor asked.
Clara paused. There was something...it was gone.
“Fine. Yeah, fine, sorry,” she scratched her head awkwardly.
“Right,” Tasha said making her way to the confession booth at the back of the room, “This is my personal teleport. I can put you down just outside the town. Find the source of the message and report back to me in one hour. And on your life Doctor, you will cause no trouble down there. ”
The Doctor climbed inside the booth.
“When do I?” He asked.
He paused.
“Don’t answer that.”
He closed the curtain behind him.
“It’s a massacre waiting to start, and I won’t let you start it. It would be the greatest pleasure to kill you Doctor...but that doesn’t mean I trust you.” Tasha said.
The Doctor opened the curtain.
“You’re a very screwed up person you know that?” he said and closed the curtain again.
Tasha pulled the curtain open and held out her hand.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m not an idiot. Everyone in this church is trained to see straight through holograms.”
“Ah. Brilliant.” Clara suddenly felt very self conscious.
“Give. Now,” Tasha emphasised, “You’re taking no technology of any kind down there.”
“What can I do with a key?” he pointed at Clara, “You, in now!”
Clara climbed inside the confession booth. The Doctor closed the curtain. Tasha pulled it open again.
“You can summon your TARDIS.”
“The TARDIS doesn’t work by remote! Fine! If it makes you feel any better, there we are!” he took off the chain holding the TARDIS key and tossed it at Tasha. She smiled and set the controls on the teleport. She turned to Clara.
“Are you sure you want to go down there?” she asked, “We have no idea what’s down there. There could be terrible danger.”
Clara shrugged.
“The alternative is Christmas Dinner.” She closed the curtain.
“And remember,” she called as the teleport powered up, “I want you back in one hour.”
The teleport activated beaming the Doctor and Clara down to the planet. Tasha stepped back and breathed a deep sigh. Albero stepped from the shadows. He stood close to Tasha.
“Are you sure the Doctor is the right person to send down there?” he asked.
“No,” Tasha said, “But I doubt even the Doctor could start a war on the fields of Trenzalore.”
The Doctor and Clara landed in the middle of a snowy field. Clara shivered.
“Brr it’s cold,” she said, rubbing her arms for warmth.
“Don’t worry,” the Doctor ran over and rubbed her arms to keep her warm, “There’s a heat loss filter in your hologram shell. Just give it a minute.”
“So!” The Doctor circled the clearing, “Sweet little town, half a universe in terror. Why?”
Clara turned. She saw something.
“Doctor?”
“What is it?”
Clara approached it. It seemed to be a frozen hand.
“It’s a hand...”
“Well don’t touch it Clara,” the Doctor cautioned.
Clara tapped it.
“Ah it’s fine. It’s only a statue!” she called, turning to the Doctor.
The Doctor froze.
“Clara get away from it!” he cried.
Suddenly Clara felt a hand grasp her foot. The statue had grabbed her. The Doctor grabbed her and attempted to pull her free.
“Don’t stop looking at it!” he cried, “There’s a Weeping Angel under the snow!”
“A what?!” Clara shouted.
“Looks like a statue, isn’t a statue. A quantum lock lifeform. It can only move when it’s not being observed. Now pull!”
“I can’t!” Clara wiggled as much as she could, “My shoe is stuck!”
The Doctor paused.
“Clara...you’re not wearing a shoe.”
“Good point.”
“Now pull!”
They pulled and then suddenly Clara was free. The sudden force sent them both tumbling down a nearby hill. The Doctor sprang to his feet pulling Clara with him. He spun around.
“More Angels! Look at them! Don’t blink! Don’t even blink! Blink and you’re dead Clara!”
He pointed. Clara turned and saw the Angels. Stone, intricately carved and yet with twisted demonic features.
“They’re climbing out of the snow!” Clara cried, “What are they doing here?!”
“Same as everybody else! They must have got past Tasha’s shield. Keep looking at them!” the Doctor shouted back.
Clara tried, but it was impossible.
“I can’t! The snow’s in my eyes!”
“Don’t worry! I just need to bring the TARDIS down!” The Doctor called.
“But you can’t fly it remotely!”
“No, but it can home in on the key!”
“You don’t have the key! Tasha took it!”
“She only took one.”
Clara turned to respond to this and witnessed the Doctor pull off his hair, revealing a bald head and a spare TARDIS key.
Handles sprung to life.
“Engines activating!”
The soldiers watched as the TARDIS vanished. One of them grabbed a nearby soldier by the arm.
“Fetch the Mother Superious. Now!” she hissed.
The soldier scurried off.
The TARDIS materialised around the Doctor and Clara. Clara covered her mouth and pointed at the Doctor’s bald head.
“Key in the quiff routine. Never fails!” The Doctor bounded around the console room, dumping his wig on Handles, “Okay, homing in on the mysterious message. Ooh. I like that. The mysterious message,” he waved his hand for effect.
“You shaved your head!” Clara shouted.
“Clever plan to get us and the TARDIS past the shield!” the Doctor responed.
Clara folded her arms.
“You got bored one night didn’t you?”
The Doctor bowed his head embarrassed.
“A tiny bit yeah.”
Clara leaned in.
“Is that what happened to your eyebrows?”
“No they’re just delicate. Right! Setting us down near the signal source! I’ll turn the engines on silent. Don’t want to cause a fuss.”
Clara grabbed the Doctor’s wig and threw it at him.
“Put it back on.”
“Why?”
“Your ears are like rocket fins.”
“I know,” he grinned.
The Doctor grabbed the Sonic screwdriver and placed it in his pocket, only for it to fall through the holographic pocket and straight to the floor. The Doctor looked at Clara.
“Clothes,” he said.
Clara stepped out of the TARDIS, wearing her normal clothes again. The Doctor followed, Handles under his arm and wearing a handsome frock coat with fur lining. Clara looked about. To her eyes it appeared to be a simple farming town. The houses were nice, plainly decorated and functional.
“So much better to be wearing clothes don’t you think?” She asked
The Doctor nodded but wasn’t really listening. He was scanning the surrounding area with his Sonic Screwdriver.
“Now what do we make of this place? It’s two O’clock in the afternoon. Must be very short days here. The message is coming from that tower.” The Doctor pointed at a nearby clock tower in the centre of the town. He frowned. “What do clock towers normally say? Midnight? Sometimes they say midnight...”
He grumbled and walked towards the clock tower, Clara on his heels.
“Primitives detected! Delete the primitives!” Handles cried.
The Doctor looked up and saw a man and a woman approaching. About middle-aged. The man was tall while the woman was short. To all eyes they appeared to be a happily married couple.
“Hello!” The Doctor called, “Hello there!”
He turned to Clara.
“Right we’re a couple from the next town. My name’s probably Hank or Rock or something.”
“Or Daisy,” Clara giggled.
“Shut up,” the Doctor turned to the couple, “Hello there! Good to meet you! Nice snow!”
The Man shook the Doctor’s hand.
“Most pleasant to meet you,” he said.
“Most pleasant. Most pleasant,” the woman agreed.
The man shook Clara’s hand too.
“I’m Abramal and this is my wife Marta.”
The Doctor smiled.
“I’m the Doctor. I’m a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. I stole a time machine and ran away and I’ve been flouting the principal law of my people ever since.”
The Doctor covered his mouth in shock. Abramal and Marta laughed.
“That wasn’t quite what I meant to say,” the Doctor said awkwardly.
Clara grinned.
“I’m Clara Oswald, I’m an English teacher from the planet Earth and I’ve run off with a man from space because I really fancy-“ she managed to cut herself off in time. The Doctor gave her a funny look.
“I think you had better stop talking until you get used to it,” Marta said.
“Used to what?” the Doctor asked.
Marta smiled and turned to Clara.
“What did you say your name was?” she asked.
“Bubbling personality masking bossy control freak,” Clara babbled.
“I’m wearing a wig!” the Doctor cried.
Abramal and Marta laughed again.
“Oh! OH! I see! Of course! It’s a truth field! Oh, that is so quaint! I haven’t seen a truth field in years!” the Doctor said.
“No one can lie in this town,” Abramal said, “Especially not this close to the tower.”
Abramal and Marta walked on.
“Doesn’t that make life a bit difficult?” he asked.
“Not at all!” Marta cried.
“Yes!” Abramal cried.
The two gave each other a look and walked on.
“This town, what’s it called?!” the Doctor shouted.
“It’s Christmas!” Abramal shouted.
The Doctor checked his watch which somehow gave him the exact date and time of wherever he was. Most of the time.
“It’s July!” he shouted.
“No! The town! The town is Christmas!” Marta called.
“Be happy here! Be well!” Abramal said as a farewell and the two walked away.
The Doctor walked towards the clock tower. Clara followed.
“How can a town be called Christmas?” she asked.
“I don’t know. How can an island be called Easter? Maybe it’s just nice here.” he responded.
He reached the clock tower doors and stopped. He turned to Clara mournfully.
“You know, I’m almost hesitant to find out what’s wrong...”
Then he smiled and opened the doors.
Tasha walked up to the space where the TARDIS had just been. She reached her hand and felt the empty space. She frowned and dropped her hand.
“Oh Doctor,” she said, “Whatever am I going to do with you?”
The Doctor and Clara walked into the Clock Tower. It seemed as if the town used it as some sort of dumping ground. Furniture covered the entire space. Clara walked off to explore. The Doctor turned...and saw it. He placed Handles on a nearby chair.
“There you are. What took you so long?” he asked.
Clara wandered back.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, “It’s only a crack in the wall.”
But the more she looked at the crack...the more it felt...wrong somehow. It was there in the wall opposite them, yet it was huge and a bright white light shone from within it. The Doctor looked at her sadly.
“I knew, I always knew it wasn’t over.”
“What is it?” Clara asked.
“A split in the skin of reality.”
The Doctor walked up to the crack and touched it slightly. As if a side effect from the crack, memories from long ago began to surface.
“Two parts of space and time that should never have touched... pressed together.”
“That’s like the crack from my bedroom wall when I was a little girl!”
“Ooh that’s bad. That’s very very not good.”
The Doctor opened the door marked “11” and looked in. The crack glared back at him.
“Of course. Who else?”
The Doctor shivered slightly. He turned to Clara.
“A tiny sliver of the 26th of June 2010, the day the universe blew up.” He explained.
“Missed that,” Clara said confused.
“I rebooted it, put it all back together again.”
“That’s good.”
“Well it was my TARDIS that blew it up in the first place. I felt a degree of responsibility. But the scar tissue remains. A structural weakness in the whole universe.”
He paused. Lightbulb.
“And someone’s trying to get through it from outside our universe from somewhere else! Of course! Of course! It make sense!”
“It does?” Clara asked.
“Yes! If you were trying to break through a wall, you’d choose the weakest part of the wall. If you were trying to break into this universe-No! If you were trying to break back into this universe you’d choose this crack!”
He pointed at Handles.
“You said Gallifrey! Why did you say Gallifrey?!” He asked.
“Analysis of message composition matches Gallifreyan origin according to TARDIS databanks,” Handles beeped.
“You said Gallifrey was gone,” Clara said.
“No, I said it was in another universe. The message is coming through here. At a guess the truth field is too. If it’s the Time Lords...if it’s the Time Lords!”
The Doctor pulled a small circular object form his pocket. He held it up. Clara could make out a strange symbol on it.
“The seal of the High Council of Gallifrey! Nicked it off the Master in the Death Zone. There is an algorithm imprinted in the atomic structure,” he placed the seal on Handles, “Use it to decode the message.”
“Message decoding. Message analysis proceeding. Information available. The message is a request for information.” Handles beeped.
“It’s a question! Why can’t you just say it’s a question?!” The Doctor said, annoyed.
“It is being projected on a repeating cycle across all of Time and Space,” Handles stated.
“The oldest question in the universe...” the Doctor muttered, realising, “Hidden in plain sight.”
“Warning. Translation will be available to all life forms in range.” Handles warned.
“Well they’ve all come a long way,” the Doctor handwaved.
“Translation follows,” Handles began, “Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
Slowly his voice began to change, taking a more human and more regal voice. The voice of a Time Lord.
“Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
The Daleks spun round. It couldn’t be...their oldest enemies...the Time Lords?
“Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
The Cybermen looked at each other, sharing information across the Cyberiad. Soon the meaning was clear. The Cybermen instantly began to prepare.
“Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
The Sontarans cheered in victory, chanting their battle cry of “Sontar Ha!”. War was coming. And they would be a part of it.
“Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
A shadowy figure leaned back in his throne. Soon the time would come to play his part. This...event was exactly what he required.
“Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who? Doctor Who?”
Tasha looked around as the message boomed. She looked at the surrounding soldiers.
“Patch me through to the Doctor. Now!”
The Doctor leaned against the crack. His eyes mournful.
“A question only I can answer,” he muttered, “and a truth field so I can’t lie. If I give my name they’ll know they’ve found the right place and that it’s safe to come through.”
“The Time Lords?” Clara asked, “So you answer the question and they all come through?” If you do it, what happens?”
The Doctor searched his pockets and removed a small device. He handed it to Clara.
“You need to take this to the TARDIS and place it in the charger slot for the Sonic.” He said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Hell. All hell. That’s what happens if the Time Lords come through. Now just go to the TARDIS and do as I say.”
Clara nodded and ran. The Doctor watched her go. It wasn’t technically a lie...
“Doctor!” Tasha’s voice boomed across the town. Her face appeared above the clock tower, anger visible on her face.
“Doctor!” She boomed again, “Speak with me! Face me now!”
Clara looked up at the sky with terror and ran to the TARDIS opening the doors and running inside. She placed the device in the sonic charger.
“Doctor!” Tasha shouted again.
The Doctor walked up the stairs to the top of the bell tower. He approached Tasha’s face.
“I have one thing to say to you. Nose clippers!”
No flirting now. He was serious.
“Mother Superious,” he called, “There is only one thing I need from you. This planet. What is it called?”
Tasha looked down at him.
“Trenzalore.”
The Doctor’s hearts plummeted. This was it. This was really it.
The TARDIS made several noises. Clara looked up anxiously.
“Ok, are you doing a thing? Are you doing a clever thing?”
“If you speak your name, the Time Lords will return.” Tasha boomed.
“If they return, they will return in peace!” The Doctor pleaded.
“It doesn’t matter. They will be met with a war that will never end. The Time War will begin anew. You know that Doctor.”
The TARDIS engines stopped. Clara froze.
“Done?” she asked.
She ran to the doors and pulled them open to see- her home. She stopped and turned to the TARDIS. It slowly began to take off.
“NO!” she cried “Don’t you dare!”
She grabbed the TARDIS door handle. It shook violently trying to shake her off, but Clara held tight. Then it vanished, taking Clara with it. And then Clara knew nothing but the cold.
“They’re asking for my help!” the Doctor cried.
“If you give it then war will be the consequence! I can not let that happen! At any cost!” Tasha cried.
“Speak your name and this world will burn!” she warned.
“No. No!” the Doctor cried, “This planet is protected!” He spun and soniced the bell. It rang, loudly across the town. “I will protect this town for as long as it takes. For the rest of my life if needs be. And I plan to live a very long time!”
Tasha’s face vanished...only to return.
“I do still think you’re sexy.”
She vanished again.
The citizens of Christmas gathered at the bell tower. They were terrified and confused. The Doctor stepped forward from the doors.
“Hello! Hello everyone! Spot of news! Christmas has a new sheriff! Hello everyone! I’m the Doctor!” The Doctor clapped his hands gleefully.
Tasha stepped up to the podium. This was something she wished she’d never have to do, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Representatives of all the different Chapels, Priors and Chapters of the Papal Mainframe were stood before her. They looked up, awaiting her word.
“Attention! Attention all chapels and priors of the Papal Mainframe!” Tasha boomed, “The siege of Trenzalore has now begun! There will now be an unscheduled faith change. From this moment on, I dedicate this church to one cause! Silence! The Doctor will not speak his name. And war will not begin. Silence will fall!”
“Silence will fall! Silence will fall! Silence will fall!” chanted those gathered before her.
Tasha knew she should be proud, yet somehow, deep down, she felt a twinge of regret.
The Doctor turned to walk back inside the clock tower when he felt a tug on his arm. He turned and saw a young woman stood before him.
“So is it true?” she asked, “Is it true there’s deadly alien armies above us waiting to destroy us all?”
“Yes of course it’s true. I can’t exactly lie can I?” The Doctor responded.
“Sorry. Yes. Of course. Sorry. It’s just...it’s just all so wonderful isn’t it?” the woman said.
“Wonderful?” The Doctor asked.
“Well... yes they are coming to destroy us and that’s bad I guess...but it’s actual life. Life from another world. And not just one, hundreds of them! Thousands! And that’s rather wonderful isn’t it?”
The Doctor smiled.
“What’s your name?”
“April.”
“Nice name April. You should certainly keep it.” He turned and entered the Clock Tower to find a middle aged man glaring at him.
“Oh...hi...and you are?” the Doctor asked.
“Archibald Sawyer. The sheriff of this town.” The man said gruffly.
“Oh. Oh. I’ve sort of just... oh... yeah...” the Doctor stammered. Then he paused. “Why does a town with a truth field need a sheriff?”
“People can’t lie. Doesn’t stop them commiting crimes.” Arhcibald responded.
“Good point Archie.”
“Don’t call me Archie.”
“Whatever you say Archie.”
“Listen here,” Archie jabbed a finger into the Doctor’s chest, “This town is my life. I would die to defend it. You can tell them anything you wish, but I know the truth. It’s you these aliens are after. Not the town. You!”
“No. They want to stop that crack opening. And the only way to do that is to kill me and then destroy the planet. Seriously, weren’t you listening?!”
The Doctor jumped into a comfortable armchair and plucked Handles from a nearby desk.
“So Archie, any board games?”
“Board games?” Archie asked confused.
“Scrabble! Cluedo! Twister! Monopoly! Oooh maybe some Trivial Pursuit!”
The Doctor looked at Archie’s baffled face.
“Not even Uno? Blimey this is going to take longer than I thought.” He muttered.
“Affirmative.” Beeped Handles.
“Quiet you,” said the Doctor.
“I have developed a fault.”
“Not this again.”
“Hello! Hello everyone! Spot of news! Christmas has a new sheriff! Hello everyone! I’m the Doctor!” The Doctor clapped his hands gleefully.
Tasha stepped up to the podium. This was something she wished she’d never have to do, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Representatives of all the different Chapels, Priors and Chapters of the Papal Mainframe were stood before her. They looked up, awaiting her word.
“Attention! Attention all chapels and priors of the Papal Mainframe!” Tasha boomed, “The siege of Trenzalore has now begun! There will now be an unscheduled faith change. From this moment on, I dedicate this church to one cause! Silence! The Doctor will not speak his name. And war will not begin. Silence will fall!”
“Silence will fall! Silence will fall! Silence will fall!” chanted those gathered before her.
Tasha knew she should be proud, yet somehow, deep down, she felt a twinge of regret.
The Doctor turned to walk back inside the clock tower when he felt a tug on his arm. He turned and saw a young woman stood before him.
“So is it true?” she asked, “Is it true there’s deadly alien armies above us waiting to destroy us all?”
“Yes of course it’s true. I can’t exactly lie can I?” The Doctor responded.
“Sorry. Yes. Of course. Sorry. It’s just...it’s just all so wonderful isn’t it?” the woman said.
“Wonderful?” The Doctor asked.
“Well... yes they are coming to destroy us and that’s bad I guess...but it’s actual life. Life from another world. And not just one, hundreds of them! Thousands! And that’s rather wonderful isn’t it?”
The Doctor smiled.
“What’s your name?”
“April.”
“Nice name April. You should certainly keep it.” He turned and entered the Clock Tower to find a middle aged man glaring at him.
“Oh...hi...and you are?” the Doctor asked.
“Archibald Sawyer. The sheriff of this town.” The man said gruffly.
“Oh. Oh. I’ve sort of just... oh... yeah...” the Doctor stammered. Then he paused. “Why does a town with a truth field need a sheriff?”
“People can’t lie. Doesn’t stop them commiting crimes.” Arhcibald responded.
“Good point Archie.”
“Don’t call me Archie.”
“Whatever you say Archie.”
“Listen here,” Archie jabbed a finger into the Doctor’s chest, “This town is my life. I would die to defend it. You can tell them anything you wish, but I know the truth. It’s you these aliens are after. Not the town. You!”
“No. They want to stop that crack opening. And the only way to do that is to kill me and then destroy the planet. Seriously, weren’t you listening?!”
The Doctor jumped into a comfortable armchair and plucked Handles from a nearby desk.
“So Archie, any board games?”
“Board games?” Archie asked confused.
“Scrabble! Cluedo! Twister! Monopoly! Oooh maybe some Trivial Pursuit!”
The Doctor looked at Archie’s baffled face.
“Not even Uno? Blimey this is going to take longer than I thought.” He muttered.
“Affirmative.” Beeped Handles.
“Quiet you,” said the Doctor.
“I have developed a fault.”
“Not this again.”
Next Time: Do They Know It's Christmas?
Trenzalore faces its first attack in the form of a dysfunctional Sontaran clone batch. As villagers begin to fall victim to the new world they've been launched into, Christmas' old Sheriff must come to terms with the fact that a bleak future is approaching.
Friday 5th December at 5:00
Trenzalore faces its first attack in the form of a dysfunctional Sontaran clone batch. As villagers begin to fall victim to the new world they've been launched into, Christmas' old Sheriff must come to terms with the fact that a bleak future is approaching.
Friday 5th December at 5:00