Doctor Who: The Time Splicer: The Penitentiary (The Time Splicer Series Book 3)

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Doctor Who: The Time Splicer: The Penitentiary (The Time Splicer Series Book 3) Page 9

by Cour M.


  “Ha!” He cried happily.

  He rolled his shoulders, stopped crying immediately, relaxed his arms, and then stood up casually.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the key that belonged to his cell. While he had been doing his best to deliver his best performance of grief, he had managed to run his hands through the guard’s pockets and found the key in it. And since it was just one key from the guard’s large set, he perhaps was not going to notice that it was missing for quite some time.

  “I daresay that has to have been one of my best performances yet,” he smiled, self-satisfied, “truly, I should be given a BAFTA.”

  He stood up and then a memory of Eight crawling through the labyrinth reached him, just as the creature that was hunting him roared out once more.

  “Hang on,” Ten realized, “I know that roar. No, no, no, no!”

  Ten rubbed his lip, impatient. This was a creature that he had encountered before he had regenerated into the Ninth Doctor—after the incarnation that always went nameless. He knew that he still had to wait a few minutes for the changing of the guards, but every moment felt like an eternity.

  Chapter 11

  The Beast Below

  Through the labyrinth, Eight traveled. Since he kept the flashlight-torch on, the roars were getting louder and louder. Yet as Eight entered another passageway, he saw that there was a hole, it was man-sized, and if he remained there, he could slide down it once the creature cornered him in. Thus, he planted himself and waited. He flashed the light all around the tunnel and then he saw a shadow against the wall.

  “I know that you’re there. And you are used to it, aren’t you? You’re used to dwelling in the darkness and then thriving off the fear that you inflict. Or perhaps you are lonely, but you don’t know how to voice it. I can help you! It doesn’t have to be this way! I can help you!”

  Around the bend, the creature entered and stood there, over seven feet tall and broad in stature.

  “A werewolf,” Eight hissed, “you’re a werewolf!”

  The beast roared so loudly, that Eight had to cover his ears, for fear of his eardrums bursting. Once the creature closed its jaw, it began to rush forward.

  “Please!” Eight bellowed, raising up his arm, “I do not wish for us to harm each other. Or to be enemies. You are down here, alone, and I don’t know for how long. We are both prisoners, and I can help you. If we work together, then I can free you from this. Look at yourself, you are down here now, all alone and you are an animal, not a machine. You deserve your liberty, just as much as anyone else does. Therefore, you don’t need to do this. Will you have peace? Or don’t you care?”

  The werewolf roared out.

  “The usual response,” Eight said lightly, as the werewolf began to rush toward him.

  Waiting patiently, Eight did not move a muscle.

  “Wait, Doctor,” he advised himself, “just wait. And do not be afraid. Never be afraid.”

  The werewolf drew closer.

  Eight breathed in.

  The werewolf bared its death.

  Eight breathed out.

  The werewolf roared out once more.

  “And I still am not afraid,” Eight declared, “never shall I be afraid of you!”

  Just as the werewolf got closer, Eight jumped down the hole and the werewolf tried to bite him as he descended. Further and further he fell, seeing the werewolf try and slide into the hole, but it got itself caught.

  Now it was stuck, and he had some time to figure out what to do next.

  ⌨

  “Good,” Ten breathed, seeing the flailing body of the wolf as it had got itself stuck in the tunnel, “Now I have more time.”

  After twenty more minutes of waiting, Ten went to the door, placed the key in the hole, turned it and then opened it. He peeked out of it slightly, and noticed that the hallways were completely empty. He opened his door, silently slipped out of it, and tiptoed down the alleyway.

  As he did so, he looked down at his feet and saw his prison scrubs on him.

  “I feel strange by doing this without wearing a suit,” he whispered, “by the blue of the TARDIS, I really miss the coat. I felt like Clark Kent, but subtler.”

  He reached a corner, remained against the wall, peeked around it and then saw a guard approaching. They were both roughly around the same height, and Ten prepared himself.

  “God, I hate guns. Oh well, nothing for it.”

  The guard drew closer, turned the corner, raised up his gun, but through his quickness of hand, Ten literally removed it from his grasp and then aimed it at him.

  “That’s the problem with guns,” Ten announced, “besides everything. Yet to add to all that, it’s intent; those who carry them often are the most ill-equipped to use them.” The guard lowered his arm down to his belt. “Oh no, me ole’ son, keep your hands where I can see them. And no trying to signal the security desk, so keep those arms raised.”

  The guard obeyed.

  “Please,” the guard begged.

  “Don’t beg. I know every rehearsed line in the book. Do as I say, and you will be back home, in time for tea. If they ever let you poor smucks out. Truly, why do you all keep this job anyway?”

  “It pays well.”

  “The usual answer. Now do as you do best: obey. Take me to the Isolation chute.”

  “Why would you want to go there?”

  “Why do you ask questions to a man whose pointing your gun at you?”

  “Please don’t push me down the chute! It’s down there.”

  “The creature that you don’t even know the identity of. Now press on, then.”

  The guard obeyed. As they walked along, Ten saw that the guard had some glasses sticking out of his jacket pocket. “You won’t mind if I borrow these, would you?” He took the glasses. “Thanks. And find a route that no other guards are using,” Ten added.

  The guard obeyed and then Ten eventually reached the chute.

  “I also need one of your shoelaces,” Ten instructed. The guard untied his boot and then gave him one of the laces.

  “Great, hold this,” Ten ordered, handing the guard the gun. The guard was so disorientated, that he didn’t know what to make of that. Ten walked to the chute, and lifted the trapdoor.

  “Celsius 8!” Ten laughed, “look at that. Now that is one great slide fall, isn’t it? And I’m curious to find out how fun it is.”

  He looked back up at the guard, who was still holding his gun in confusion.

  “Still cradling that thing like you gave birth to it, eh?” Ten smirked, “you know, I can’t think of which is more amazing: the fact that you honestly thought I was ever going to fire it, or the fact that you still haven’t tried to shoot me yet.”

  The guard remembered himself and then aimed.

  “Bye then!” Ten concluded.

  Ten jumped down the Isolation chute and began to slide down to the depths of the prison.

  “Give my regards to Captain Gilmore!” He shouted up at the guard as he fell further and further into the black.

  Chapter 11

  The Infiltration

  Captain Gilmore was sitting in his study, which was the most impressive and elaborate room in the prison. Remodeled to his design and preferences, it looked as if a lovely sitting room meant for the grandest home in Georgian England had been uprooted from its original seat and placed down in the room of a prison. The grotesque windows which showed a tedious view of Jupiter was hidden behind ornate curtains of the richest fabric, the floor was wooden, the walls painted white, and there were lamps along the room, and sconces along the wall, presenting illumination. There was a long piano, which never was played, a lovely bed in the corner, a desk by the largest window, and then an antique record player on the edge of it.

  Salieri’s most known works was playing on it while Captain Gilmore was reading away.

  He was interrupted by a knocking on the door.

  “They should know not to knock at this time,” he resumed, drink
ing some wine from his glass. “Enter!”

  A guard entered.

  “Sir,” the guard began but he was interrupted.

  “Wait till the music ends,” Captain Gilmore spoke pleasantly, still reading his book. “Respect the music. Respect the genius.”

  The music continued to play and while it would have annoyed any other guard, this guard was preoccupied. This was his first time in seeing the Captain’s room. He had heard rumors about it, but never had seen it, and now it was his chance. Never having seen a room quite like it, he gazed at everything in wonder and admiration. Such beauty after being always in an ugly place was quite uplifting. That, mingled with the music, made the guard begin to weep, despite himself.

  Eventually, the music came to an end, and the guard was snapped out of his thoughts when Captain Gilmore closed his book sharply. He leaned from around his armchair and his eyes narrowed on the guard.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Shaw, sir,” the guard responded, “Bernard Shaw.”

  “Well, Bernard Shaw, you must be relatively new here.”

  “Yes, um, I began working here a month ago.”

  “Then you were not told the protocol. Whenever one knocks, and I say enter, you come in, and you remain quiet until I say that you can speak. And you never, ever, interrupt my music.”

  “Of course, sir. The music was lovely, by the way.”

  “It’s a classic composer. He died in infamy. A natural progression to greatness, I have often found. So, you are quite young.”

  “I’m twenty-two, sir,” Bernard Shaw answered nervously.

  “And you want to impress me, I see. Yet, there is one thing that I want to know, though. You’re young. So why work here? Where life is more like a punishment than it is a pleasure.”

  “There was a shortage of jobs back on my home planet, sir, and my chief ambition did not offer much money.”

  “What was your original ambition?”

  “I had wanted to be a writer,” Bernard Shaw confessed, “I wrote five novels.”

  “Have I heard of any of them?”

  “I doubt it. They all failed.”

  “Ah. Well then, Bernard Shaw, you will do very nicely here. Many guards have come and gone, and every single one of them failed miserably at what they did before they came here. You shall be happy. Runaways always love company.”

  “Yes, well…”

  “Well, weren’t you sent here for a reason?”

  “Yes, sir. I came to inform you that a spaceship has landed in our docking bay. They carry the official seal of the Halls of Justice. They have disembarked, and they are headed up by Captain Nellrix.”

  “Should that name mean something to me?”

  “He claims to be the very captain who captured the Doctor when he disbanded the Morning Star satellite in space.”

  “Right.”

  Captain Gilmore stood up.

  “I shall see him in my office.”

  ⌨

  Captain Gilmore entered his office to see Captain Nellrix pacing back and forth. When seeing Gilmore, Captain Nellrix stopped moving and bowed his head.

  “Captain Gilmore,” Captain Nellrix greeted, “it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “Captain Nellrix, this is a surprise.”

  Captain Nellrix offered his hand for him to shake and at first Captain Gilmore stared at him.

  “Are you the sort to not shake hands?”

  “I admit, from the planet I come from, we find it to be a dubious gesture.”

  “Interesting, and what planet are you from?”

  “I trust you had a pleasant trip,” Captain Gilmore asked, evading the question.

  “Yes, very pleasant. We almost accidentally passed through the Laikra Rift, but the crisis was averted.”

  “I am glad to hear it.”

  “Thank you, sir. Well, you are maintaining this prison quite well. I was told that this was the most efficient of the penitentiaries.”

  “And yet Mecrellas sent you.”

  “It did, because now Mecrellas is at war. The planets Kellerphron, Nestor, and Wessiri are all now waging war against our world, due to the losses of the victims on the trans-mats.”

  “And what does that have to do with its prisoners?”

  “It has to do with two of them.”

  Captain Gilmore read in between the lines.

  “Two? You came for the Doctors.”

  “Yes, we did. You see, before their confinement, the Doctors determined that the true culprit behind the disappearing people are something called Clockwork droids. He also predicted that their reason for this deception is to put our society at war so that they can confiscate and steal our window-bridge technology. Thus, I came with a bargain. I would reduce their life sentences for five-year confinement, if they share their information on these Clockwork droids, and can assist in giving us their whereabouts.”

  “The Doctor is nefarious. But if there is one thing that I know about his nature, is that he is tricky. He will find a way to get more from you than you expect.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Now, where is the Doctor?”

  ⌨

  Down below, in the labyrinth, Ten had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the dark. He followed the tunnels where his memory recalled Eight walking down. Once he had flashes of still seeing the werewolf trapped and crying out, Ten began to run along.

  “Eight!” He cried, “Eight!”

  He turned the bend, tumbled down a steep hill, and then up ahead, he saw the light from a torch.

  “Well now,” Eight cried, “what took you so long?”

  “Nice to see you, too.”

  “Come now, you are perfectly aware that I was never going to say anything less. So, what did you do to get pushed down here? Did you save another prisoner from choking?”

  “No, less noble. I stole a key from a guard.”

  “Stealing things, huh? We really need to break that habit.”

  “Why, when it led to us stealing the best blue box in the universe?”

  “Fair point.”

  Eight and Ten began to walk alongside each other.

  “There’s a creature down here,” Eight reported.

  “Yes, I saw it, getting fresh memories every time you had a new experience. That’s another problem, I realize. Our minds are too much linked, I see your actions too quickly, and our pairing is already dangerous. Yet no paradoxes ensued, we didn’t need any temporal energy to allow us to travel with each other, or anything. Don’t you think it’s strange?”

  “Oh, that is a brilliant question… for another time. Yet right now, we have an unidentified creature stuck in a tunnel, and I can’t just let it stay there.”

  “Too right, we can’t. And it’s not unidentified. It’s a Terusian Werewolf.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, it’s a werewolf from Terusia. By the way that the creature acts, it’s clear that it hasn’t mastered how to ever morph back into its human state.”

  “Is there any way that a Terusian werewolf is like that creature that we tamed on Peladon that one time?”

  “Very good,” Ten complimented, “very similar idea.”

  “Well, we could’ve perhaps hypnotized it if we had a glass with a concentrated prescription.”

  Ten produced the guard’s glasses from his pocket. When seeing that, Eight smiled.

  “Don’t ever stop stealing bare necessities,” Eight advised Ten.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Ten held the glasses while Eight took the shoelace that Ten had and made sure to attach it in ways that it would not fall off and break.

  “Great, now all we have to do is pull the wolf out, and try and hypnotize it before it tries to kill us,” Eight exhorted.

  “Uh huh.”

  They both walked up to the wolf and began to pull it out of the tunnel by its legs.

  “This can go poorly,” Ten admitted. />
  “Well, if something happens to one of us, we can always regenerate.”

  “Too soon. Too soon.”

  Removing the wolf from being stuck was difficult. Due to its weight and how far it was jammed in, they had to pull with all their might. Eventually the wolf was yanked backwards, and they all fell together. Eight rolled over to see the wolf staring at him.

  “Well, good dog.”

  The wolf bit at him and Eight rolled away just in time. The wolf got up and raced after him.

  “Hey!” Ten cried, distracting the wolf. The werewolf turned around and Ten began to walk toward it, twirling the glasses on the shoelace. He began chanting a rhyme, the same rhyme he used on the creature of Peladon. As the wolf stared into the glass, it became slightly mystified. It roared out once more, but Ten only began to chant louder. The closer he got, the calmer the wolf became.

  Once he reached the wolf, he swung the glasses in between the wolf’s eyes, like a pendulum.

  “You were human once,” Eight spoke while Ten kept chanting. “You could understand us if you focused. And you have a name. Remember, you have a name.”

  Ten finished his chanting.

  “You heard him,” Ten confirmed, “you have a name. Now, focus. What was that name?”

  The werewolf looked in between both Doctors, its eyes sorrowful. It whimpered, saddened.

  “It’s fine,” Eight reassured it, placing his hand on its neck. “Look here. You see? It’s fine. And don’t be afraid. And don’t hate.”

  Eight stared into the werewolf’s eyes.

  “You can control it,” Ten cajoled, “you always could. You just should try. What is your name? I repeat, what is your name?”

  The werewolf roared out, but then its cry began to turn suddenly human.

  “I…” it uttered, then it roared again which ended in the repeated word, “I…”

  Ten and Eight squinted, hearing the tone of a voice.

  “Are you a woman?”

  The werewolf tried to form a word again.

  “I am…”

  It failed at forming another sentence, and the werewolf gave into despair. It began to weep, its shoulders slouching as it fell to the ground.

 

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