You will probably want to read the Introduction before you start.
Prologue
“What’s your name again?” asked the Doctor, hurrying out of the TARDIS.
“Russell, for the last time,” retorted the homeless man who’d snuck on board the TARDIS. He took it all in instantly and without difficulty, as if a transition from cardboard to a time-machine was somehow easier than from a working-class life to the streets.
“I still don’t know why you’re here,” complained the Doctor, taking in his surroundings. He’d been before, many lifetimes ago, but this fresh pair of eyes brought out different shades in this room, like the light blue of the walls and the starlight dome of a ceiling. This was the great ship Epicurus, an architecturally-noteworthy vessel designed during the Eighth Great and Bountiful Human Empire that was home to none other than the illustrious Planet Makers.
“The Planet Makers,” introduced the Doctor, pointing at 3D diagrams which lined the walls, and various communication desks. More empty seats than last time. “They do what they say on the tin; make planets commercially to suit purposes or desires. Name the planet and how you want it made and they’ll make it. Humanity thrived on interstellar business during these times so they’d craft whole solar systems, just so that they could form life intelligent enough to trade with. Staligon!” he burst out, startling Russell. An old man with a monocle and neat white hair greeted the Doctor with a familiar smile.
“It’s good to see you again, looking so young,” said the man, who was presumably called Staligon. “Thank you for coming when called. That’s unusual.”
“I keep a grandfather clock. Helps me to keep on time. You said you had a mission for me?”
“Yes.” Staligon winked with his monocle eye. “Have you ever heard of the Krynoid?”
The Doctor’s heart sunk. He calculated the date and correlated it with their evolutionary history. This was the worst possible time to hear the word ‘Krynoid’.
“We don’t call them that here, they’re just known as the Plant, but I thought we should clarify, since you’re a time pioneer.”
The Doctor laughed away the title. He was hardly Cerscillus.
“Why are they just called the Plant?” asked Russell, his cockney accent making the question sound stupider than it was. He scratched his bald head.
“They used to be called the Krynoid,” explained Staligon, “and they used to be a legend. Now they’re everywhere, and we call them the Plant. That’s where they stand in the food chain – they epitomise everything below them. Why make a new name when you’re the most powerful sentient force in the universe?”
“They’re small pods,” elaborated the Doctor, for Russell’s sake. “Or were, when they started out. They’re like weeds, travelling through space in pairs. When Krynoids take over an entire world, they’re able to harness its natural mechanisms, like, say, using a natural disaster to launch themselves to a new world.”
“And they’re more than just a bit of vegetation?”
“They’re carnivorous,” replied the Doctor bluntly. “And they control all the other vegetation on the world. They’re sentient on an intangible level and if they come in contact with you, they can turn you into one of them. Any more questions?”
“So this planet… what are we meant to do?”
“Well,” interjected Staligon, summoning a holographic diagram from nowhere, “this is the planet. V-3-Lime-6.”
It rolls off the tongue, thought Russell. “It’s square,” he remarked, his thick eyebrows nearly touching the ceiling.
“That was requested at the time, yes. There are settlements on the neighbouring planets, which the Plant will soon reach. When I say soon, I mean forty-eight hours. And sooner we have a plan of our own. In six hours, we’re going to blow up the planet to destroy the Plant infestation.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Always the option with the Krynoid, isn’t it? Blow up a whole planetary system to destroy one planet. The blast generated from up here can’t be controlled. You’ll wipe out…” He inspected the diagram. “Both neighbouring planets?”
“It’s the only way.”
“No it’s not,” uttered the Doctor with a patronised glare, “or you wouldn’t have called me here.”
“Destroying it from the outside would cause a cataclysm. But destroying it from the inside would only be half the picture.”
“Meaning?”
“The Plant has cut off our interface. We can’t control the planet; all we can do is launch super-explosives at it.”
“Meaning?” persisted the Doctor.
“That if we sent a team down onto the surface of the planet, you could either find a way of removing the Plant or generate a controlled explosion which would leave the neighbouring planets unharmed.”
“That’s why I’m here,” gathered the Doctor. “I’m up for it. What about you Russell?”
Russell nodded. The Doctor went along with it. Who even is Russell? Oh, it can wait…
“Rosie!” called Staligon. A multi-coloured, wheeled robot, about three feet tall, entered the room smoothly.
“These must be my comrades!” exclaimed Rosie, in a voice that was trapped somewhere between the British female Siri and an excited teenager. “I’m Rosie,” she said in exaggerated introduction. “I’ll be accompanying you on your journey. As well as providing you with a number of useful facilities, I am programmed for high levels of positive thinking!”
Staligon beamed. The Doctor shuddered. An ordinary-sized, decent-looking man with dark blonde hair and heavy-framed glasses offered the Doctor an assuring handshake. “Andy,” he said, “I’m a computer technician to help with the interface. It’s an honour to meet you, sir.”
“And you,” said the Doctor, before stopping. “And you’ve spent a long time making yourself look nice for this. That’s why your palm’s so clammy. So this is your first expedition?”
Andy nodded.
“Talk about throwing them in at the deep end.” The Doctor glared at Staligon. “So, you’d never trust me to lead a team, he’s on his first expedition and she’s an excitable robot. Who’s leading us?”
“I was just coming to that.” Staligon gestured to the elevator doors. “And here she is! Meet your team leader.”
The woman stepped out. She was garbed in leather, her blonde hair still permitted freedom down her back. The Doctor’s eyes widened. What were the odds?
“I’d like you all to meet Autumn Rivers,” said Staligon.
Autumn smiled; not, apparently, remotely surprised.
“Russell, for the last time,” retorted the homeless man who’d snuck on board the TARDIS. He took it all in instantly and without difficulty, as if a transition from cardboard to a time-machine was somehow easier than from a working-class life to the streets.
“I still don’t know why you’re here,” complained the Doctor, taking in his surroundings. He’d been before, many lifetimes ago, but this fresh pair of eyes brought out different shades in this room, like the light blue of the walls and the starlight dome of a ceiling. This was the great ship Epicurus, an architecturally-noteworthy vessel designed during the Eighth Great and Bountiful Human Empire that was home to none other than the illustrious Planet Makers.
“The Planet Makers,” introduced the Doctor, pointing at 3D diagrams which lined the walls, and various communication desks. More empty seats than last time. “They do what they say on the tin; make planets commercially to suit purposes or desires. Name the planet and how you want it made and they’ll make it. Humanity thrived on interstellar business during these times so they’d craft whole solar systems, just so that they could form life intelligent enough to trade with. Staligon!” he burst out, startling Russell. An old man with a monocle and neat white hair greeted the Doctor with a familiar smile.
“It’s good to see you again, looking so young,” said the man, who was presumably called Staligon. “Thank you for coming when called. That’s unusual.”
“I keep a grandfather clock. Helps me to keep on time. You said you had a mission for me?”
“Yes.” Staligon winked with his monocle eye. “Have you ever heard of the Krynoid?”
The Doctor’s heart sunk. He calculated the date and correlated it with their evolutionary history. This was the worst possible time to hear the word ‘Krynoid’.
“We don’t call them that here, they’re just known as the Plant, but I thought we should clarify, since you’re a time pioneer.”
The Doctor laughed away the title. He was hardly Cerscillus.
“Why are they just called the Plant?” asked Russell, his cockney accent making the question sound stupider than it was. He scratched his bald head.
“They used to be called the Krynoid,” explained Staligon, “and they used to be a legend. Now they’re everywhere, and we call them the Plant. That’s where they stand in the food chain – they epitomise everything below them. Why make a new name when you’re the most powerful sentient force in the universe?”
“They’re small pods,” elaborated the Doctor, for Russell’s sake. “Or were, when they started out. They’re like weeds, travelling through space in pairs. When Krynoids take over an entire world, they’re able to harness its natural mechanisms, like, say, using a natural disaster to launch themselves to a new world.”
“And they’re more than just a bit of vegetation?”
“They’re carnivorous,” replied the Doctor bluntly. “And they control all the other vegetation on the world. They’re sentient on an intangible level and if they come in contact with you, they can turn you into one of them. Any more questions?”
“So this planet… what are we meant to do?”
“Well,” interjected Staligon, summoning a holographic diagram from nowhere, “this is the planet. V-3-Lime-6.”
It rolls off the tongue, thought Russell. “It’s square,” he remarked, his thick eyebrows nearly touching the ceiling.
“That was requested at the time, yes. There are settlements on the neighbouring planets, which the Plant will soon reach. When I say soon, I mean forty-eight hours. And sooner we have a plan of our own. In six hours, we’re going to blow up the planet to destroy the Plant infestation.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Always the option with the Krynoid, isn’t it? Blow up a whole planetary system to destroy one planet. The blast generated from up here can’t be controlled. You’ll wipe out…” He inspected the diagram. “Both neighbouring planets?”
“It’s the only way.”
“No it’s not,” uttered the Doctor with a patronised glare, “or you wouldn’t have called me here.”
“Destroying it from the outside would cause a cataclysm. But destroying it from the inside would only be half the picture.”
“Meaning?”
“The Plant has cut off our interface. We can’t control the planet; all we can do is launch super-explosives at it.”
“Meaning?” persisted the Doctor.
“That if we sent a team down onto the surface of the planet, you could either find a way of removing the Plant or generate a controlled explosion which would leave the neighbouring planets unharmed.”
“That’s why I’m here,” gathered the Doctor. “I’m up for it. What about you Russell?”
Russell nodded. The Doctor went along with it. Who even is Russell? Oh, it can wait…
“Rosie!” called Staligon. A multi-coloured, wheeled robot, about three feet tall, entered the room smoothly.
“These must be my comrades!” exclaimed Rosie, in a voice that was trapped somewhere between the British female Siri and an excited teenager. “I’m Rosie,” she said in exaggerated introduction. “I’ll be accompanying you on your journey. As well as providing you with a number of useful facilities, I am programmed for high levels of positive thinking!”
Staligon beamed. The Doctor shuddered. An ordinary-sized, decent-looking man with dark blonde hair and heavy-framed glasses offered the Doctor an assuring handshake. “Andy,” he said, “I’m a computer technician to help with the interface. It’s an honour to meet you, sir.”
“And you,” said the Doctor, before stopping. “And you’ve spent a long time making yourself look nice for this. That’s why your palm’s so clammy. So this is your first expedition?”
Andy nodded.
“Talk about throwing them in at the deep end.” The Doctor glared at Staligon. “So, you’d never trust me to lead a team, he’s on his first expedition and she’s an excitable robot. Who’s leading us?”
“I was just coming to that.” Staligon gestured to the elevator doors. “And here she is! Meet your team leader.”
The woman stepped out. She was garbed in leather, her blonde hair still permitted freedom down her back. The Doctor’s eyes widened. What were the odds?
“I’d like you all to meet Autumn Rivers,” said Staligon.
Autumn smiled; not, apparently, remotely surprised.
The Eighth Doctor Adventures
Series 1 - Episode 6
The Planet Makers
Written by The Genie
“You’ll be beamed down to the planet’s surface in thirty seconds. You’ll arrive on a deck. Go back to that deck when you’ve completed the mission; it’ll detect your presence and we’ll be able beam you back up.” This was usually the ‘Any Questions?’ point but Staligon skipped straight to an abrupt: “Good luck!”
The teleport was a beam of white light that shone everywhere – from the team’s perspective – and left a warm, numb feeling after.
As promised, they arrived on a deck; a dark wooden circular thing like some sort of tribal gathering-place, raised a metre off the ground. The Doctor breathed in the alien air: fresh and calming. Water droplets gathered on his skin. He guessed this was the result of a planet overrun by vegetation. The foreign impression of the neighbouring planets hung in the sky, blending in with the landscape; to the North, a pink sphere with enchanting rings around it which looked as if they could be skated on, and to the South, a golden pyramid, sparkling and glistening tantalisingly. A jewel, trapped in the sky, permanently out of reach. It must have been teasing to live on such a land. Sadly, no one ever got the chance to.
Everyone was in awe, especially Andy who craned his neck to see above. It was silent – too silent. Autumn contained her wonder, pulling out a map from her backpack. She turned it up the right way as her finger hovered over it, searching for the right points.
“The mountains,” she said, breaking the silence. “That’s where we’ll find a control area.” She pointed to the South horizon; the picturesque snow-capped mountains which hung below the pyramid-world and beyond the green, like the new level of a computer game. She took a swig of water from her flask. “It should take us about two hours, with a brisk walk. Let’s go.” She jumped gracefully off the platform, securing the backpack on her shoulders.
“Right, er, Autumn,” murmured the Doctor, catching up with Autumn. They’d left the other two purposefully a few steps behind. “So, a bit of an explanation maybe?”
Autumn rolled her eyes. “I got bored on Earth. Such an angry planet. So I stole a vortex manipulator from the UNIT Black Archives and journeyed back out into space. Found myself here, and I wanted to do something for the community – like, you know, community service.”
“Oh, I see,” said the Doctor, nodding. “I release you from prison and you feel guilty?”
“No, not guilty,” she chuckled. “Not for a minute. I have no guilt about what I did to this day.”
“And what exactly is it you did? You didn’t tell me last time. Why were you in prison?”
Autumn stared onwards, unable to look the Doctor in the eye. Her tongue hovered at the back of her mouth, considering the risk. Don’t tell him.
“Doctor!” came a voice from behind them. Rosie was calling. The Doctor slowed up for her, but Autumn continued at her hasty pace.
“I have scanned the planet to find the largest centres of infestation. The results follow: North-West Zone, concentration of 23%. South-West Zone…”
The Doctor pulled a map out of his own pocket, following Rosie’s directions.
Andy caught up with Autumn, as they strolled a few paces ahead of the Doctor. “Do you think we’ll do it?” he said, starting conversation.
“I know we will. We have to.” Autumn studied the horizon thoughtfully.
“Positivity,” remarked Andy. “I like it.”
“You can go to Rosie for that,” joked Autumn. “There’s a difference between positivity and determination. I’ve done this mission before and it’s failed. I’ve seen civilisations destroyed because of our inability to fight the Plant and I’m not going to let it happen again. I’m not going to let that thing take any more lives.”
It seemed obvious, but when he stopped to think, Andy wondered whether by ‘thing’ Autumn meant the Plant, or the ship Epicurus, resting peacefully in the sky, unaffected and primed to destroy anything which could compromise its integrity.
Rosie fed her results slower and slower, choosing to spice them with the occasional positive comment. The team began their ascent up the mountain. As an engineered world, it was an easy climb with grips for feet and pathways carved out.
“Mountain Zone,” continued Rosie, finally caught up with the team. “Concentration of… 80%.”
The Doctor’s heart stopped and he ran further up the path, overtaking the rest of the team and peaking over the cap of the first mountain. A gentle flurry of snow landed on his jacket.
“Krynoid!” hissed the Doctor, as the fierce green of vegetation stuck out in the dip. “Back, back, back!”
The team hurried back down the mountain, tripping, sliding and stumbling. Out the corner of his eye, the Doctor saw a root creeping over the edge.
Russell tripped and felt himself bang into something.
“Uh-oh…” he hummed, and turned around to see the source of the menacing shadow that hung over him.
At the bottom of the mountain, a Weeping Willow tree had sprung up. No one even saw it appear; it must have risen from the ground, and already looked half-dead in the way that Weeping Willows always did.
There was no wind but the branches swung haphazardly as if there was some sort of exotic storm. As Autumn attempted to dodge them, one smacked into her and wrapped around her as it did, lifting her off her feet. She screamed, hitting it with her free arm, but only managed to knock a bit of bark off.
“Autumn!” exclaimed the Doctor.
Autumn lifted her blaster from its holder and fired it at the branch. It came detached just as the green was about to cover the brown around her hand. She hit the ground but leapt up, repulsed. One inch closer and she’d have been infected.
“Nice work,” observed the Doctor, secretly awestruck.
She had experience. Another thing Autumn Rivers was experienced in was brushing off injuries. “We need to head to the coast and get across that way. Go, before it gets the rest of us!”
The others became quickly aware of the Willow’s presence and moved around it. Once they crossed the threshold at the edge of the mountains, they were safe again, untouched. Somehow, they all sensed that wouldn’t last.
The journey to the shoreline was peaceful but brisk. The constant ticking clock, which Rosie was keen to remind them off with glee, loomed over every second, and devastated any hopes of being able to appreciate the landscape. Still, the sea was admirable in that second they could appreciate it; a deep, pure blue, with the sand a clear, purer white. It was as if someone had painted it, but someone without the ability to recognise the world’s imperfections. The Doctor understood, in that moment, what planet-making meant: creating a template for life to exist upon.
The Doctor bent down and pulled a spade out of his pocket, digging into the sand. Russell wondered how much he kept in that pocket. Quickly, the Doctor hit a metal floor and felt around for some buttons. Unexpectedly, he found a lever, but it did the job. As he pulled it, a pathway shot out from the sand and across the water; a flat, transparent bridge, taking them safely from one body of land to another. They ran across, the pathway moving with them as a conveyor belt. Before they knew it, they’d covered huge expanses of water, and were on the other side of the horizon.
“The control deck,” noted Autumn, looking on. They’d reached the edge of the planet, and the gravity had a strange effect. Being a cubed planet, it looked like a fall from the top of a building. Fearing the heights, Andy held back, but Autumn confidently placed her foot over the edge. She moved fully over, pushed by the force of the artificial gravity. Then she was onto a new face of the cube. The others followed, and when they were over they saw what Autumn meant.
The landscaped dipped centrally into a sort of crater; unmistakably the control deck. But before then was a greater challenge – a forest.
Autumn admired the look of the planet; the way it was like some sort of virtual world, full of challenges and untouched sections, waiting to be explored and conquered – her kind of place. Games were never enough. The adventure had to be real, tangible; evidenced.
“With regret, we’re going to have to run,” decided Autumn, pointing to a clearing between the trees. “They’ll take a swing for us, but if we all head at once to the crater, we might survive the attack. Rosie, do what you can to keep them back.”
“There is a statistical possibility that we will remain intact,” chirped up Rosie, unconvincingly. If that was the best sentiment she had to offer, they really were in trouble.
“Let’s go.”
They darted into the forest, eyes half-closed in the wind as the rush of brown and green came closer. They felt the trees closing in; thorns brushing against their arms and faces, and hoped that none would be that fatal touch. Russell, surprisingly, was safest, protected by his thick coat. Andy slowed up, running out of breath. He was pulled back, a stem creeping around his neck, throttling him. Touching him. Autumn realised it was too late – not just for Andy, but for the rest of them.
The same white light that had surrounded them when they arrived returned, as the setting was able to change without the slightest jerk. When it faded, they realised that the setting hadn’t just changed, but they had. Rather, their positions, as they were now lying down as opposed to standing.
“They’re waking up,” remarked a tall woman with a tall face, covered in makeup. She leant over the Doctor’s bed and stroked his cheek softly. “Don’t worry; they haven’t touched you. Or you, you, or you.” The Doctor realised she was addressing the others as he rubbed his eyes. But there was a missing ‘you’.
Everyone else sat up as he did, their eyes adjusting to the polished-white of the infirmary they’d found themselves in. Only Andy stayed laying down, unblinkingly, his face tangled in plant life.
“I wouldn’t go near him,” advised the tall woman. “We’re doing our best for him, but it’s not promising. He’s been touched by the Plant, the poor soul.”
The Doctor climbed out of his bed and rushed to the porthole of a window. Outside was space; below them, a world so varied in colour but so bulky it was like an unsolved Rubik’s Cube. The world, he realised quickly, they were moments ago journeying through.
“There was a gap in the Plant’s signal, explained the tall woman. “We were able to beam you up. You can’t contact the Epicurus from here – we’re on the wrong side, unfortunately. Cut off.”
“V-3-Lime-5,” stated Autumn, heaving herself out of bed. “We’re in the pyramid one, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” replied the tall woman, nodding proudly. “The Golden World, they once called us, though the Plant threatens us too. We can look after your friend, but we’re going to need to send you back down. Is there anything we can get you first?”
“No,” decided Autumn, on the behalf of everyone. “We just need to get back.” She inhaled the scent of luxury air-freshener, savouring the little time she was spending in this utopia. “You,” she said, addressing Russell. “Stay here with Andy. Look after him.” She began to work on her blaster, adjusting the settings. The Doctor moved over to Russell who sat by Andy, sombrely.
“You’ll be alright here?”
“Better than down there.”
The Doctor leaned over, waving his hand fearlessly in front of Andy’s face. “Are you in there?”
A bloodshot eye flicked open.
“You don’t have to speak,” he whispered. “I know you can understand me. I’m leaving Russell with you, but we’re coming back for you. We’re going to cure you. And when you’re cured, this planet will be safe.” He lowered his voice further. “I’ve consented to the destruction of worlds occupied by the Krynoid before. Never again. We’re going to break the Plant’s signal. Save everyone this time. I know it.”
***
The Limeans beamed the remainder of the team – a sociopathic psychologist, a nauseatingly optimistic robot and the Doctor – to a place just beyond the forest. The crater was more visible now; the one natural-looking part of this planet, but with a clear industrial influence. A clean escalator led them down into the darkness, the lights moving with them, like something from a spookier kind of London underground. The Doctor wished he had someone from Earth with him to appreciate the reference. Russell would have – whoever the hell Russell was. He really needed to address that.
“For your pleasure, the planet has prepared a series of stimulating advertisements,” commented Rosie, Robot Point-Out-The-Bleeding-Obvious-And-Make-It-Sound-Nice.
Again, the adverts resembled something off the London underground: plays, including one called Clequetran’s Toe and another called Pots. Others were for amusement parks and museums; Vot’s World, the Museum of Spherical Philosophy (the Doctor wasn’t even aware that philosophy could take shape). All of which were presumably once grand, respected locations from great minds, now just overrun with vegetation. A whole planet, set up to be loved, but untouched – like a LEGO set, smashed before it reached the child’s bedroom.
Kind of tragic.
***
The transformation was midway now. Andy’s skin was cracked and muddy. Green gunge trickled down his forehead, and leaves sprouted from his neck. But the worst part was that he maintained his mind, fully aware of what was happening to him. Russell felt awkward. He couldn’t touch Andy; his bedside manner was lost; detached.
“Why are you here?” wheezed Andy. “You don’t look like you’re ready for a mission. You don’t look like you’re ready for anything.”
“That’s because I’m not,” confessed Russell. “That Doctor bloke, I just got into his spaceship, then suddenly we were here.”
“You accepted it quickly.”
“No.” Russell laughed and shook his head. “I didn’t accept it at all. I’m still denying it.”
“How could you tell?”
“Because if I accepted, I’d be scared. I’d be crapping myself. But I ain’t scared – I’m not even thinking about it. It’s like a dream or something.”
“Have you got a family back home?”
“Yes. Well, no…” Russell looked to the window. “I had a son, but we… grew apart…”
“Argued?”
Russell nodded.
“It’s never too late,” Andy croaked. His voice was starting to go.
“It’s been six years. You can’t mend nothin’ after that long. He’d never let me back into his life. Quite right, too.” Russell winced. “I screwed up.”
“I’d let you back into mine…”
“Are you alright?” asked Russell, noticing Andy weakening, his breathing pattern becoming erratic. His eyes closed and the chesty breathing stopped. “Nurse!” called Russell. “Nurse!”
The nurse rushed over, but stopped unnaturally at the edge of the bed. “Get away from him.”
“What do you mean? Nurse, he needs our help.”
Suddenly, Andy shot upright. Except he was no longer Andy now – he was a creature. The change was implausible; the Plant had perfected its infection technique, and was able to grow rapidly. What was once Andy was now a colossal mass of plant organs and writhing, green strings.
“We are the Plant.”
The most alarming thing was how the Plant spoke with Andy’s voice – completely unchanged; clearer, in fact, than when Andy had been speaking to Russell at his bedside.
“What do you want?” asked Russell, feeling a modicum of fear.
It didn’t answer.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You humans – you pollute these worlds.” There was a change to Andy’s voice. It was detectable, now there was some context to what he was saying. Ambition. Andy had been so quiet, so meek and doubting. Now he was stronger; more confident. “You are nothing to the Plant. We take in poison and give back life. We are progressive – that is a fact of nature. We are necessary!” It roared as it placed emphasis. “You slow up progress and squander opportunities. The universe should be rid of your filth. We use our resources.” It lifted an arm. The nurse realised it was pointing – to them. “And you are our resources!”
As it lurched forward, the nurse picked up a table and threw it at the creature’s head. It felt back, stumbling for a minute, but came back stronger. Russell pushed the bed out, as its wheels and the polished marble floor prevented friction. It slid across the room, providing a temporary barrier between them and the Plant. They evacuated the room as quickly as they could.
***
The control area was a wide expanse at the bottom of the crater. Like the TARDIS, only without a roof, it was dotted with switches and levers which lined the walls; screens and buttons, with chairs and tables decorating the open spaces – an area designed to be casually maintained. The metal floor rattled as they trampled across it. The Doctor fiddled with some of the switches.
“Anything?” asked Autumn.
The Doctor kicked a box underneath the panel. “Nothing,” he hissed. “I don’t recognise the system. The interface is… stupid.” He cursed whoever designed it. “We needed Andy for this. I can’t work any of it. I can generate an explosion, but it wouldn’t be controlled. It would have the same effect as the explosives. The neighbouring planets would be destroyed. There’s got to be another way.”
“The Plant are linked by that signal, aren’t they? Could we weaken them by hitting some sort of pivotal area?” suggested Autumn.
“We could try, but I don’t hold out high hopes.”
“It’s the best we’ve got. We just need a weapon… Rosie!” Autumn beamed.
“Miss Rivers,” answered the robot. “A more positive way of looking at things could be to consider the amount of planets in the universe that are not facing imminent destruction.”
“I’m going to kill her,” muttered Autumn.
“I sympathise,” joined the Doctor.
“No,” murmured Autumn in concentration, turning Rosie over on the floor. “I mean I’m actually going to kill her. She’s got all the right parts, essentially. We can use her for a weapon.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. He wanted to say something like “Good idea”, but he could never quite find the words where Autumn was concerned. But he helped her to dismantle the robot as they rebuilt it together with what little combined knowledge they had, packing in some strong pesticide with it. By the time they’d finished, Rosie was no longer a miniature positive-thinking machine – she was a gun, albeit a rainbow-coloured one; a heavy, deadly bit of machinery that could be their escape card. As they got back on the escalator, the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and bleeped the handrail. Abruptly, it increased in speed, as the walls went by in a blur, and they were back at the top of the crater, facing the forest.
The teleport was a beam of white light that shone everywhere – from the team’s perspective – and left a warm, numb feeling after.
As promised, they arrived on a deck; a dark wooden circular thing like some sort of tribal gathering-place, raised a metre off the ground. The Doctor breathed in the alien air: fresh and calming. Water droplets gathered on his skin. He guessed this was the result of a planet overrun by vegetation. The foreign impression of the neighbouring planets hung in the sky, blending in with the landscape; to the North, a pink sphere with enchanting rings around it which looked as if they could be skated on, and to the South, a golden pyramid, sparkling and glistening tantalisingly. A jewel, trapped in the sky, permanently out of reach. It must have been teasing to live on such a land. Sadly, no one ever got the chance to.
Everyone was in awe, especially Andy who craned his neck to see above. It was silent – too silent. Autumn contained her wonder, pulling out a map from her backpack. She turned it up the right way as her finger hovered over it, searching for the right points.
“The mountains,” she said, breaking the silence. “That’s where we’ll find a control area.” She pointed to the South horizon; the picturesque snow-capped mountains which hung below the pyramid-world and beyond the green, like the new level of a computer game. She took a swig of water from her flask. “It should take us about two hours, with a brisk walk. Let’s go.” She jumped gracefully off the platform, securing the backpack on her shoulders.
“Right, er, Autumn,” murmured the Doctor, catching up with Autumn. They’d left the other two purposefully a few steps behind. “So, a bit of an explanation maybe?”
Autumn rolled her eyes. “I got bored on Earth. Such an angry planet. So I stole a vortex manipulator from the UNIT Black Archives and journeyed back out into space. Found myself here, and I wanted to do something for the community – like, you know, community service.”
“Oh, I see,” said the Doctor, nodding. “I release you from prison and you feel guilty?”
“No, not guilty,” she chuckled. “Not for a minute. I have no guilt about what I did to this day.”
“And what exactly is it you did? You didn’t tell me last time. Why were you in prison?”
Autumn stared onwards, unable to look the Doctor in the eye. Her tongue hovered at the back of her mouth, considering the risk. Don’t tell him.
“Doctor!” came a voice from behind them. Rosie was calling. The Doctor slowed up for her, but Autumn continued at her hasty pace.
“I have scanned the planet to find the largest centres of infestation. The results follow: North-West Zone, concentration of 23%. South-West Zone…”
The Doctor pulled a map out of his own pocket, following Rosie’s directions.
Andy caught up with Autumn, as they strolled a few paces ahead of the Doctor. “Do you think we’ll do it?” he said, starting conversation.
“I know we will. We have to.” Autumn studied the horizon thoughtfully.
“Positivity,” remarked Andy. “I like it.”
“You can go to Rosie for that,” joked Autumn. “There’s a difference between positivity and determination. I’ve done this mission before and it’s failed. I’ve seen civilisations destroyed because of our inability to fight the Plant and I’m not going to let it happen again. I’m not going to let that thing take any more lives.”
It seemed obvious, but when he stopped to think, Andy wondered whether by ‘thing’ Autumn meant the Plant, or the ship Epicurus, resting peacefully in the sky, unaffected and primed to destroy anything which could compromise its integrity.
Rosie fed her results slower and slower, choosing to spice them with the occasional positive comment. The team began their ascent up the mountain. As an engineered world, it was an easy climb with grips for feet and pathways carved out.
“Mountain Zone,” continued Rosie, finally caught up with the team. “Concentration of… 80%.”
The Doctor’s heart stopped and he ran further up the path, overtaking the rest of the team and peaking over the cap of the first mountain. A gentle flurry of snow landed on his jacket.
“Krynoid!” hissed the Doctor, as the fierce green of vegetation stuck out in the dip. “Back, back, back!”
The team hurried back down the mountain, tripping, sliding and stumbling. Out the corner of his eye, the Doctor saw a root creeping over the edge.
Russell tripped and felt himself bang into something.
“Uh-oh…” he hummed, and turned around to see the source of the menacing shadow that hung over him.
At the bottom of the mountain, a Weeping Willow tree had sprung up. No one even saw it appear; it must have risen from the ground, and already looked half-dead in the way that Weeping Willows always did.
There was no wind but the branches swung haphazardly as if there was some sort of exotic storm. As Autumn attempted to dodge them, one smacked into her and wrapped around her as it did, lifting her off her feet. She screamed, hitting it with her free arm, but only managed to knock a bit of bark off.
“Autumn!” exclaimed the Doctor.
Autumn lifted her blaster from its holder and fired it at the branch. It came detached just as the green was about to cover the brown around her hand. She hit the ground but leapt up, repulsed. One inch closer and she’d have been infected.
“Nice work,” observed the Doctor, secretly awestruck.
She had experience. Another thing Autumn Rivers was experienced in was brushing off injuries. “We need to head to the coast and get across that way. Go, before it gets the rest of us!”
The others became quickly aware of the Willow’s presence and moved around it. Once they crossed the threshold at the edge of the mountains, they were safe again, untouched. Somehow, they all sensed that wouldn’t last.
The journey to the shoreline was peaceful but brisk. The constant ticking clock, which Rosie was keen to remind them off with glee, loomed over every second, and devastated any hopes of being able to appreciate the landscape. Still, the sea was admirable in that second they could appreciate it; a deep, pure blue, with the sand a clear, purer white. It was as if someone had painted it, but someone without the ability to recognise the world’s imperfections. The Doctor understood, in that moment, what planet-making meant: creating a template for life to exist upon.
The Doctor bent down and pulled a spade out of his pocket, digging into the sand. Russell wondered how much he kept in that pocket. Quickly, the Doctor hit a metal floor and felt around for some buttons. Unexpectedly, he found a lever, but it did the job. As he pulled it, a pathway shot out from the sand and across the water; a flat, transparent bridge, taking them safely from one body of land to another. They ran across, the pathway moving with them as a conveyor belt. Before they knew it, they’d covered huge expanses of water, and were on the other side of the horizon.
“The control deck,” noted Autumn, looking on. They’d reached the edge of the planet, and the gravity had a strange effect. Being a cubed planet, it looked like a fall from the top of a building. Fearing the heights, Andy held back, but Autumn confidently placed her foot over the edge. She moved fully over, pushed by the force of the artificial gravity. Then she was onto a new face of the cube. The others followed, and when they were over they saw what Autumn meant.
The landscaped dipped centrally into a sort of crater; unmistakably the control deck. But before then was a greater challenge – a forest.
Autumn admired the look of the planet; the way it was like some sort of virtual world, full of challenges and untouched sections, waiting to be explored and conquered – her kind of place. Games were never enough. The adventure had to be real, tangible; evidenced.
“With regret, we’re going to have to run,” decided Autumn, pointing to a clearing between the trees. “They’ll take a swing for us, but if we all head at once to the crater, we might survive the attack. Rosie, do what you can to keep them back.”
“There is a statistical possibility that we will remain intact,” chirped up Rosie, unconvincingly. If that was the best sentiment she had to offer, they really were in trouble.
“Let’s go.”
They darted into the forest, eyes half-closed in the wind as the rush of brown and green came closer. They felt the trees closing in; thorns brushing against their arms and faces, and hoped that none would be that fatal touch. Russell, surprisingly, was safest, protected by his thick coat. Andy slowed up, running out of breath. He was pulled back, a stem creeping around his neck, throttling him. Touching him. Autumn realised it was too late – not just for Andy, but for the rest of them.
The same white light that had surrounded them when they arrived returned, as the setting was able to change without the slightest jerk. When it faded, they realised that the setting hadn’t just changed, but they had. Rather, their positions, as they were now lying down as opposed to standing.
“They’re waking up,” remarked a tall woman with a tall face, covered in makeup. She leant over the Doctor’s bed and stroked his cheek softly. “Don’t worry; they haven’t touched you. Or you, you, or you.” The Doctor realised she was addressing the others as he rubbed his eyes. But there was a missing ‘you’.
Everyone else sat up as he did, their eyes adjusting to the polished-white of the infirmary they’d found themselves in. Only Andy stayed laying down, unblinkingly, his face tangled in plant life.
“I wouldn’t go near him,” advised the tall woman. “We’re doing our best for him, but it’s not promising. He’s been touched by the Plant, the poor soul.”
The Doctor climbed out of his bed and rushed to the porthole of a window. Outside was space; below them, a world so varied in colour but so bulky it was like an unsolved Rubik’s Cube. The world, he realised quickly, they were moments ago journeying through.
“There was a gap in the Plant’s signal, explained the tall woman. “We were able to beam you up. You can’t contact the Epicurus from here – we’re on the wrong side, unfortunately. Cut off.”
“V-3-Lime-5,” stated Autumn, heaving herself out of bed. “We’re in the pyramid one, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” replied the tall woman, nodding proudly. “The Golden World, they once called us, though the Plant threatens us too. We can look after your friend, but we’re going to need to send you back down. Is there anything we can get you first?”
“No,” decided Autumn, on the behalf of everyone. “We just need to get back.” She inhaled the scent of luxury air-freshener, savouring the little time she was spending in this utopia. “You,” she said, addressing Russell. “Stay here with Andy. Look after him.” She began to work on her blaster, adjusting the settings. The Doctor moved over to Russell who sat by Andy, sombrely.
“You’ll be alright here?”
“Better than down there.”
The Doctor leaned over, waving his hand fearlessly in front of Andy’s face. “Are you in there?”
A bloodshot eye flicked open.
“You don’t have to speak,” he whispered. “I know you can understand me. I’m leaving Russell with you, but we’re coming back for you. We’re going to cure you. And when you’re cured, this planet will be safe.” He lowered his voice further. “I’ve consented to the destruction of worlds occupied by the Krynoid before. Never again. We’re going to break the Plant’s signal. Save everyone this time. I know it.”
***
The Limeans beamed the remainder of the team – a sociopathic psychologist, a nauseatingly optimistic robot and the Doctor – to a place just beyond the forest. The crater was more visible now; the one natural-looking part of this planet, but with a clear industrial influence. A clean escalator led them down into the darkness, the lights moving with them, like something from a spookier kind of London underground. The Doctor wished he had someone from Earth with him to appreciate the reference. Russell would have – whoever the hell Russell was. He really needed to address that.
“For your pleasure, the planet has prepared a series of stimulating advertisements,” commented Rosie, Robot Point-Out-The-Bleeding-Obvious-And-Make-It-Sound-Nice.
Again, the adverts resembled something off the London underground: plays, including one called Clequetran’s Toe and another called Pots. Others were for amusement parks and museums; Vot’s World, the Museum of Spherical Philosophy (the Doctor wasn’t even aware that philosophy could take shape). All of which were presumably once grand, respected locations from great minds, now just overrun with vegetation. A whole planet, set up to be loved, but untouched – like a LEGO set, smashed before it reached the child’s bedroom.
Kind of tragic.
***
The transformation was midway now. Andy’s skin was cracked and muddy. Green gunge trickled down his forehead, and leaves sprouted from his neck. But the worst part was that he maintained his mind, fully aware of what was happening to him. Russell felt awkward. He couldn’t touch Andy; his bedside manner was lost; detached.
“Why are you here?” wheezed Andy. “You don’t look like you’re ready for a mission. You don’t look like you’re ready for anything.”
“That’s because I’m not,” confessed Russell. “That Doctor bloke, I just got into his spaceship, then suddenly we were here.”
“You accepted it quickly.”
“No.” Russell laughed and shook his head. “I didn’t accept it at all. I’m still denying it.”
“How could you tell?”
“Because if I accepted, I’d be scared. I’d be crapping myself. But I ain’t scared – I’m not even thinking about it. It’s like a dream or something.”
“Have you got a family back home?”
“Yes. Well, no…” Russell looked to the window. “I had a son, but we… grew apart…”
“Argued?”
Russell nodded.
“It’s never too late,” Andy croaked. His voice was starting to go.
“It’s been six years. You can’t mend nothin’ after that long. He’d never let me back into his life. Quite right, too.” Russell winced. “I screwed up.”
“I’d let you back into mine…”
“Are you alright?” asked Russell, noticing Andy weakening, his breathing pattern becoming erratic. His eyes closed and the chesty breathing stopped. “Nurse!” called Russell. “Nurse!”
The nurse rushed over, but stopped unnaturally at the edge of the bed. “Get away from him.”
“What do you mean? Nurse, he needs our help.”
Suddenly, Andy shot upright. Except he was no longer Andy now – he was a creature. The change was implausible; the Plant had perfected its infection technique, and was able to grow rapidly. What was once Andy was now a colossal mass of plant organs and writhing, green strings.
“We are the Plant.”
The most alarming thing was how the Plant spoke with Andy’s voice – completely unchanged; clearer, in fact, than when Andy had been speaking to Russell at his bedside.
“What do you want?” asked Russell, feeling a modicum of fear.
It didn’t answer.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You humans – you pollute these worlds.” There was a change to Andy’s voice. It was detectable, now there was some context to what he was saying. Ambition. Andy had been so quiet, so meek and doubting. Now he was stronger; more confident. “You are nothing to the Plant. We take in poison and give back life. We are progressive – that is a fact of nature. We are necessary!” It roared as it placed emphasis. “You slow up progress and squander opportunities. The universe should be rid of your filth. We use our resources.” It lifted an arm. The nurse realised it was pointing – to them. “And you are our resources!”
As it lurched forward, the nurse picked up a table and threw it at the creature’s head. It felt back, stumbling for a minute, but came back stronger. Russell pushed the bed out, as its wheels and the polished marble floor prevented friction. It slid across the room, providing a temporary barrier between them and the Plant. They evacuated the room as quickly as they could.
***
The control area was a wide expanse at the bottom of the crater. Like the TARDIS, only without a roof, it was dotted with switches and levers which lined the walls; screens and buttons, with chairs and tables decorating the open spaces – an area designed to be casually maintained. The metal floor rattled as they trampled across it. The Doctor fiddled with some of the switches.
“Anything?” asked Autumn.
The Doctor kicked a box underneath the panel. “Nothing,” he hissed. “I don’t recognise the system. The interface is… stupid.” He cursed whoever designed it. “We needed Andy for this. I can’t work any of it. I can generate an explosion, but it wouldn’t be controlled. It would have the same effect as the explosives. The neighbouring planets would be destroyed. There’s got to be another way.”
“The Plant are linked by that signal, aren’t they? Could we weaken them by hitting some sort of pivotal area?” suggested Autumn.
“We could try, but I don’t hold out high hopes.”
“It’s the best we’ve got. We just need a weapon… Rosie!” Autumn beamed.
“Miss Rivers,” answered the robot. “A more positive way of looking at things could be to consider the amount of planets in the universe that are not facing imminent destruction.”
“I’m going to kill her,” muttered Autumn.
“I sympathise,” joined the Doctor.
“No,” murmured Autumn in concentration, turning Rosie over on the floor. “I mean I’m actually going to kill her. She’s got all the right parts, essentially. We can use her for a weapon.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. He wanted to say something like “Good idea”, but he could never quite find the words where Autumn was concerned. But he helped her to dismantle the robot as they rebuilt it together with what little combined knowledge they had, packing in some strong pesticide with it. By the time they’d finished, Rosie was no longer a miniature positive-thinking machine – she was a gun, albeit a rainbow-coloured one; a heavy, deadly bit of machinery that could be their escape card. As they got back on the escalator, the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and bleeped the handrail. Abruptly, it increased in speed, as the walls went by in a blur, and they were back at the top of the crater, facing the forest.
Autumn charged at the forest as it lashed out, almost knowing. The blasts from the Rosie-gun were effective, knocking down trees, as others got angrier. It was a bizarre image; an angry woman carrying a colourful gun, in the middle of what would have looked like some vicious storm. The landscape did look ordinary – until it emerged.
It was the first time the shape of the Plant itself had appeared; a lumbering, towering monster like some gigantic, tentacled brain. Autumn recognised it, as the unsavoury memories returned. Hatred bubbled deep inside her, its molecules expanding and escaping. She cried out in anger and fired at it.
It resisted, attempting to thrash her with a tentacle, but she ducked.
“Get out!” she yelled to the Doctor.
“I am not leaving you here!” he argued back.
“Listen to me!” She shot him a glare. Her ferocious blue eyes seemed to stare into his soul. “I’m in charge this time. I’m your leader and this is my mission.” She shouted to be heard over the commotion. “You will do what I tell you now!”
The Doctor considered, then, respecting her authority, nodded. “Thank you.”
Autumn turned back to fight the Plant. Noticing he was out of her perception, the Doctor took a gamble, and threw himself down into the crater. Wind rushed along his cheeks and his stomach jumped.
Falling.
Falling…
The ground appeared closer, almost as if it was charging at him, and then…
A soft landing – the planet had, as he expected, cushioned his fall. He thanked Health & Safety.
The idea came to him when he’d looked into Autumn’s eyes. He imagined that, somehow, they were pools of information that could be accessed by holding a glance. He returned to the controls above the box he’d kicked. If I can just…
***
Autumn lost her focus, but kept fighting. Her mind and soul were drifting as she stared on into the forest, which became, inside her mind, something else – an expression of a million things. You can’t die here. You’re scared of death. Her mind willed her to move, but she remained fixed to the spot.
I’m going to beat them this time. I’m going to do it.
Something tapped her on the back, causing her to flinch.
“I told you to leave!”
“We’re both leaving.” The Doctor pulled her back but she resisted. “Just listen, I’ve programmed the explosion, but I’ve strengthened the planet’s force-field. The core will explode but neither the explosion itself nor the debris will escape the force-field. The Plant will be destroyed, but so will we if we don’t leave!”
Autumn took his hand. With his other hand, the Doctor raised his screwdriver.
“I’ve tuned it to the planet’s frequency. It’s a remote control now.”
Autumn stumbled, feeling dizzy. The Doctor held her up.
“Sorry – I’ve tried to isolate us but you might get a bit dizzy.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m messing with the gravity. Enough of a force and we can generate…”
Autumn looked on as anything not rooted to the ground flew past them; tables and chairs from the control area, leaves and logs. As they flew up, behind them Autumn could make out the crimson, circular shape of something fluctuating. She understood.
“A portal…”
“I don’t know where it’ll lead, but it’s our best hope.” He squeezed her hand, flashing her a knowing look. “Run…”
***
Autumn sat back in the Jacuzzi, resting her wet head on the padded edge, and letting her hand slide down its golden exterior. She was tired, and her eyes were half-shut, but opened just enough that she could look up from the balcony and see the galaxies whirling above her, and the spaceships shooting past. Thanks to the oxygen shell, the balcony became a vantage point to watch a whole complex of space-crafts and planets rotating around the hotel, without the need for a specially-equipped helmet.
And thanks to sheer luck, the portal had generated a link to a luxury hotel spa at the centre of the galaxy. The Doctor had worked some magic with his psychic paper, and there they were; guests at one of the best hotels in the universe. The staff were programmed never to tire or feel resentment, the rooms had a choice of interactive windows, and underneath every seat was a Tie Beetle – apparently, the local delicacy. They tasted, surprisingly, a little like smoky bacon flavoured crisps.
While Autumn relaxed in the Jacuzzi, with nanotechnology repairing her injuries, calming her and recharging her like a battery, the Doctor phoned the Planet Makers from the hotel reception. Within an hour, they’d arrived in high-speed travel, and returned the Doctor and Autumn to Andy and Russell just as quickly. When the signal was cut off, Andy had almost instantly returned to normal. The nurses described watching leaves fall from his body to the floor, as he fell down, choking, and spat out a flower. After that, he felt better than ever.
New Paris
Andy stepped back into his apartment, relieved to feel the air conditioning working in full effect. His boyfriend would be home soon, expecting him to either be dead or dealing with explosives. The full story would be far more harrowing, but an awful lot of fun to tell.
“Was it you or him, in the end?” asked Andy, opening the doors to his balcony. He had an optimum view of the Eiffel Towers. “You were both so determined not to let that planet get destroyed.”
Autumn thought about her answer. “It was my determination and his intellect working together, I think.”
“Really?” Andy leaned over the railing, watching the street below. “I thought it would’ve been the other way around.” He swallowed, contemplating. “Are you going to take Russell home?”
“I think so. Wherever ‘home’ is.”
“He lost touch with his son. I was talking to him while I changed. If you can do anything…”
Autumn nodded. “Consider it looked after.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you could have done well. There’ll be plenty of opportunities in the future for you. Just try not to be turned into a carnivorous plant next time.”
Andy laughed.
“What about you now? Are you going to go with the Doctor?”
Autumn considered, looking back to the TARDIS; a bulk of blue in the cream-coloured room.
“Do you think I should?”
London, England, Earth, Present Day
Russell knocked nervously on the door as the Doctor and Autumn watched from afar. Autumn could imagine Russell’s thought process. He turned to check they were still there, perhaps contemplating whether just to run away from the situation. Seeing the curtains move, he hid, worried that his son wouldn’t come to the door. A shadow appeared from the other side of the door and Russell stepped back, reconsidering. Before he had a chance to change his mind, the door swung open.
They just stood and talked. An old, homeless man and his young, well-to-do son. The figure of a woman, probably his wife, lingered a bit further back. The Doctor and Autumn did their best to fill in the blanks, but it was difficult. Both Russell and his son failed to move an inch.
“Who was he, though?” asked Autumn. “No one really said who he was, or why he was there.”
“I don’t really know. He was an ordinary man, in the end. Sometimes that happens. Lost souls drift into the TARDIS and I guide them the right way.”
“You’re like the ferryman to Heaven. Or, whatever it is that your species believe in…”
Her voice drifted as events unfolded. It was difficult to gather context from a distance, but this was easy. The warm, loving embrace of two people who’d missed each other for so long. Time’s wounds healing.
TARDIS – Console Room
“You must never get used to this.”
Autumn circled around the TARDIS, stepping down the stairs to the console unit. Her shoes clicked stylishly, and as she walked her paces gained in confidence. She entered new land with a stride. The Doctor wondered if she always marked her territory this way. He tried to make sense of her as if she were an animal.
“No,” answered the Doctor, leaning sceptically against the wall. “I suppose not.”
“I’d like to see some more of this planet first,” requested Autumn, flicking a couple of buttons which adjusted the lights. “It seems like an interesting place.”
“Most people don’t have a destination in mind,” remarked the Doctor. He approached the other side of the console, staring at Autumn through the glass of the time rotor. The glass blurred her eyes. “Yet here you are, ready to go. All the gadgets, all the knowledge, and all the ideas.”
“You gave me time to think,” replied Autumn. She seemed to have an answer for anything. “So I thought. That day we first met left me a lot of time to think. When it happened, they said it gave everyone time to think.”
“Time,” emphasised the Doctor. “Exactly. Everything froze, a single moment, captured in time. Thoughts became words.”
“That was the effect that slowing time had. We got to savour a single moment.” Autumn wandered over to the bookshelves, running her fingers along the edge of the Doctor’s collection. “Just imagine what it’s like to go back. To see it all again. It must be a gift.”
“It can be a curse,” disputed the Doctor. “Because you’re not allowed to interfere. Do you understand?”
Autumn nodded.
“It’s important.” The Doctor turned away. “It’s important that I know what you’re so keen to get out of this experience.”
“I hate time,” explained Autumn, plonking herself down on the armchair. “I hate living in the knowledge that time will kill me, slowly. I hate it controlling me. I hate how it runs alongside me, even when I’m sitting still. I hate how it’s my executioner.”
“I don’t stop the passing of time.” The Doctor re-adjusted the lights. “I just choose which bits to live. Time travel isn’t a cure, it’s a distraction. And now for the important part.” He turned back to face Autumn and rested his hand on the console. His face sparkled in the blue-purple hue of the TARDIS’ light. “I need you to make a promise.”
“Anything.”
“Promise me you’ve got nothing left. Because I’ve done this before, and…” He looked to the floor guiltily. “I’ve taken people away, and I’ve destroyed everything they’ve left behind. If you have something you love, I’ll take it away from you. I-I… I can’t help it. I can’t stop it. So promise me this. Promise me I can’t take anything away from you.”
Autumn wavered. There was a moment, just a moment, where something flashed across her face; drained her of colour. A memory, as her expression froze with the wind, then switched again with the changing breeze.
“Nothing.” She didn’t move her body; didn’t take her eyes of the floor. “It’s all gone now. All of it.”
“Time travel.” The Doctor smiled darkly. “Nothing’s ever gone.”
It was the first time the shape of the Plant itself had appeared; a lumbering, towering monster like some gigantic, tentacled brain. Autumn recognised it, as the unsavoury memories returned. Hatred bubbled deep inside her, its molecules expanding and escaping. She cried out in anger and fired at it.
It resisted, attempting to thrash her with a tentacle, but she ducked.
“Get out!” she yelled to the Doctor.
“I am not leaving you here!” he argued back.
“Listen to me!” She shot him a glare. Her ferocious blue eyes seemed to stare into his soul. “I’m in charge this time. I’m your leader and this is my mission.” She shouted to be heard over the commotion. “You will do what I tell you now!”
The Doctor considered, then, respecting her authority, nodded. “Thank you.”
Autumn turned back to fight the Plant. Noticing he was out of her perception, the Doctor took a gamble, and threw himself down into the crater. Wind rushed along his cheeks and his stomach jumped.
Falling.
Falling…
The ground appeared closer, almost as if it was charging at him, and then…
A soft landing – the planet had, as he expected, cushioned his fall. He thanked Health & Safety.
The idea came to him when he’d looked into Autumn’s eyes. He imagined that, somehow, they were pools of information that could be accessed by holding a glance. He returned to the controls above the box he’d kicked. If I can just…
***
Autumn lost her focus, but kept fighting. Her mind and soul were drifting as she stared on into the forest, which became, inside her mind, something else – an expression of a million things. You can’t die here. You’re scared of death. Her mind willed her to move, but she remained fixed to the spot.
I’m going to beat them this time. I’m going to do it.
Something tapped her on the back, causing her to flinch.
“I told you to leave!”
“We’re both leaving.” The Doctor pulled her back but she resisted. “Just listen, I’ve programmed the explosion, but I’ve strengthened the planet’s force-field. The core will explode but neither the explosion itself nor the debris will escape the force-field. The Plant will be destroyed, but so will we if we don’t leave!”
Autumn took his hand. With his other hand, the Doctor raised his screwdriver.
“I’ve tuned it to the planet’s frequency. It’s a remote control now.”
Autumn stumbled, feeling dizzy. The Doctor held her up.
“Sorry – I’ve tried to isolate us but you might get a bit dizzy.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m messing with the gravity. Enough of a force and we can generate…”
Autumn looked on as anything not rooted to the ground flew past them; tables and chairs from the control area, leaves and logs. As they flew up, behind them Autumn could make out the crimson, circular shape of something fluctuating. She understood.
“A portal…”
“I don’t know where it’ll lead, but it’s our best hope.” He squeezed her hand, flashing her a knowing look. “Run…”
***
Autumn sat back in the Jacuzzi, resting her wet head on the padded edge, and letting her hand slide down its golden exterior. She was tired, and her eyes were half-shut, but opened just enough that she could look up from the balcony and see the galaxies whirling above her, and the spaceships shooting past. Thanks to the oxygen shell, the balcony became a vantage point to watch a whole complex of space-crafts and planets rotating around the hotel, without the need for a specially-equipped helmet.
And thanks to sheer luck, the portal had generated a link to a luxury hotel spa at the centre of the galaxy. The Doctor had worked some magic with his psychic paper, and there they were; guests at one of the best hotels in the universe. The staff were programmed never to tire or feel resentment, the rooms had a choice of interactive windows, and underneath every seat was a Tie Beetle – apparently, the local delicacy. They tasted, surprisingly, a little like smoky bacon flavoured crisps.
While Autumn relaxed in the Jacuzzi, with nanotechnology repairing her injuries, calming her and recharging her like a battery, the Doctor phoned the Planet Makers from the hotel reception. Within an hour, they’d arrived in high-speed travel, and returned the Doctor and Autumn to Andy and Russell just as quickly. When the signal was cut off, Andy had almost instantly returned to normal. The nurses described watching leaves fall from his body to the floor, as he fell down, choking, and spat out a flower. After that, he felt better than ever.
New Paris
Andy stepped back into his apartment, relieved to feel the air conditioning working in full effect. His boyfriend would be home soon, expecting him to either be dead or dealing with explosives. The full story would be far more harrowing, but an awful lot of fun to tell.
“Was it you or him, in the end?” asked Andy, opening the doors to his balcony. He had an optimum view of the Eiffel Towers. “You were both so determined not to let that planet get destroyed.”
Autumn thought about her answer. “It was my determination and his intellect working together, I think.”
“Really?” Andy leaned over the railing, watching the street below. “I thought it would’ve been the other way around.” He swallowed, contemplating. “Are you going to take Russell home?”
“I think so. Wherever ‘home’ is.”
“He lost touch with his son. I was talking to him while I changed. If you can do anything…”
Autumn nodded. “Consider it looked after.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you could have done well. There’ll be plenty of opportunities in the future for you. Just try not to be turned into a carnivorous plant next time.”
Andy laughed.
“What about you now? Are you going to go with the Doctor?”
Autumn considered, looking back to the TARDIS; a bulk of blue in the cream-coloured room.
“Do you think I should?”
London, England, Earth, Present Day
Russell knocked nervously on the door as the Doctor and Autumn watched from afar. Autumn could imagine Russell’s thought process. He turned to check they were still there, perhaps contemplating whether just to run away from the situation. Seeing the curtains move, he hid, worried that his son wouldn’t come to the door. A shadow appeared from the other side of the door and Russell stepped back, reconsidering. Before he had a chance to change his mind, the door swung open.
They just stood and talked. An old, homeless man and his young, well-to-do son. The figure of a woman, probably his wife, lingered a bit further back. The Doctor and Autumn did their best to fill in the blanks, but it was difficult. Both Russell and his son failed to move an inch.
“Who was he, though?” asked Autumn. “No one really said who he was, or why he was there.”
“I don’t really know. He was an ordinary man, in the end. Sometimes that happens. Lost souls drift into the TARDIS and I guide them the right way.”
“You’re like the ferryman to Heaven. Or, whatever it is that your species believe in…”
Her voice drifted as events unfolded. It was difficult to gather context from a distance, but this was easy. The warm, loving embrace of two people who’d missed each other for so long. Time’s wounds healing.
TARDIS – Console Room
“You must never get used to this.”
Autumn circled around the TARDIS, stepping down the stairs to the console unit. Her shoes clicked stylishly, and as she walked her paces gained in confidence. She entered new land with a stride. The Doctor wondered if she always marked her territory this way. He tried to make sense of her as if she were an animal.
“No,” answered the Doctor, leaning sceptically against the wall. “I suppose not.”
“I’d like to see some more of this planet first,” requested Autumn, flicking a couple of buttons which adjusted the lights. “It seems like an interesting place.”
“Most people don’t have a destination in mind,” remarked the Doctor. He approached the other side of the console, staring at Autumn through the glass of the time rotor. The glass blurred her eyes. “Yet here you are, ready to go. All the gadgets, all the knowledge, and all the ideas.”
“You gave me time to think,” replied Autumn. She seemed to have an answer for anything. “So I thought. That day we first met left me a lot of time to think. When it happened, they said it gave everyone time to think.”
“Time,” emphasised the Doctor. “Exactly. Everything froze, a single moment, captured in time. Thoughts became words.”
“That was the effect that slowing time had. We got to savour a single moment.” Autumn wandered over to the bookshelves, running her fingers along the edge of the Doctor’s collection. “Just imagine what it’s like to go back. To see it all again. It must be a gift.”
“It can be a curse,” disputed the Doctor. “Because you’re not allowed to interfere. Do you understand?”
Autumn nodded.
“It’s important.” The Doctor turned away. “It’s important that I know what you’re so keen to get out of this experience.”
“I hate time,” explained Autumn, plonking herself down on the armchair. “I hate living in the knowledge that time will kill me, slowly. I hate it controlling me. I hate how it runs alongside me, even when I’m sitting still. I hate how it’s my executioner.”
“I don’t stop the passing of time.” The Doctor re-adjusted the lights. “I just choose which bits to live. Time travel isn’t a cure, it’s a distraction. And now for the important part.” He turned back to face Autumn and rested his hand on the console. His face sparkled in the blue-purple hue of the TARDIS’ light. “I need you to make a promise.”
“Anything.”
“Promise me you’ve got nothing left. Because I’ve done this before, and…” He looked to the floor guiltily. “I’ve taken people away, and I’ve destroyed everything they’ve left behind. If you have something you love, I’ll take it away from you. I-I… I can’t help it. I can’t stop it. So promise me this. Promise me I can’t take anything away from you.”
Autumn wavered. There was a moment, just a moment, where something flashed across her face; drained her of colour. A memory, as her expression froze with the wind, then switched again with the changing breeze.
“Nothing.” She didn’t move her body; didn’t take her eyes of the floor. “It’s all gone now. All of it.”
“Time travel.” The Doctor smiled darkly. “Nothing’s ever gone.”
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Next Time
Who Watches The Watchmen?
The Doctor and Autumn arrive at a crime-scene in the 1980s. But when you've got a time machine, there are better ways of solving the puzzles of murder than forensics... Episode list: 1. The Time Museum 2. The Adulteress and Her Doctor 3. Peacepoint 4. Earthstop 5. Sunset Forever 6. The Planet Makers 7. Who Watches The Watchmen? 8. The Anger Games 9. Extinction 10. The Quest Through Time 11. A Village Called Nothing 12. Bigger on the Inside 13. Extermination of the Daleks |