Doctor Who: The Time Splicer: The Imitation Games

by Cour M.

  “Oh, that’s right!” Ten laughed, “it was you that I got that from.”

  “I guess that it was,” Eight said, then he turned to Martha, “Don’t worry, Martha, I’m just making you feel comfortable. And now, we’ve landed.”

  “We have?”

  “Yes.”

  “But we were really flying?”

  “Yes, we were.”

  “But where was the bumpiness, the turbulence and the ‘falling down when we landed’ bit?”

  “My dear, what on Earth are you talking about?”

  “Well, what about the bad driving? The rocky ride that always happened when we fly through the vortex? You know, like how he has to practically put his foot on the consul unit just to keep his balance,” Martha pointed to Ten, “and I fall almost every time.”

  Eight looked confused and then turned to Ten.

  “Future me, please translate.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Never mind, you don’t need to. Is she implying that you barely know how to drive?”

  “I drive just fine.”

  “When you correctly fly through the TARDIS, there is no turbulence unless you are being shot at within it, and even then, our TARDIS will still stabilize.”

  “Well…”

  Eight smirked.

  “Ten, did you forget how to drive properly when Nine regenerated?”

  “Oh, he barely knew how to drive either!”

  “So, neither of you knew how to drive the machine that we’ve been driving for centuries?”

  “It’s your fault, the whole memory loss began with you!”

  “No, it began with Six.”

  “Not really; the psychotically unhinged streak in us began with Six, but the memory problems really began with you. You were the one who thought he was half-human.”

  “Wait, you’re half-human?” Martha asked.

  “No,” Ten and Eight answered, simultaneously.

  “There were some problems with my regeneration,” Eight admitted, “And I was a little off about some things.”

  “Yeah, our genetic pool is a pretty big thing to be off about.”

  “You promised that you both would argue later,” Martha reminded them, “now, where are we?”

  “I’ll win the argument later,” Ten promised.

  “Slim chance,” Eight smirked, and he grabbed Martha’s hand. “Martha Jones, welcome to the Shadow Proclamation!” He took her to the door and let her out of it. He then turned to his Tenth self. “After you?”

  Ten walked up to Eight.

  “You grabbed her hand,” he stated, looking Eight up and down, “you, sir, are clearly trying too hard!”

  He exited, with Eight closing the door behind them.

  Chapter 8

  The Next Chapter

  Eight opened the doors to his TARDIS, following Ten and Martha, and they were in a great hall.

  “Two questions,” Martha began, “what is the Shadow Proclamation again? And why do we need them?”

  “Again, think of them as Outer Space Police,” Ten explained, “their responsibilities include upholding Galactic Law, among other things.”

  “Do I want to know what those other things are?”

  “Not in the slightest,” Eight answered for her. “The Shadow Proclamation is situated on three asteroids, linked together by bridges, from which they plan their moves.”

  Martha was surprised when they were accosted by a set of Judoon.

  “Whoa!” She gasped. “Judoon!”

  “Mo, to, ro, so,” Eight and Ten said to the Judoon at the same time, “Jo, ra-pa-pa-pa-do.”

  Eight and Ten looked in between each other.

  “Ah, well done.”

  “Your language is English,” one of the Judoon said. “We are now assimilating and syncing it to our databases.”

  “Take your time, duckies,” Ten suggested.

  “Your slang is not appreciated,” another Judoon spoke.

  “You are trespassing,” the head Judoon announced, “please state your name and purpose, or you shall be obliterated.”

  As one unit, they all raised their guns at the trio. Eight, Ten and Martha all raised their arms in surrender.

  “Don’t worry, friends,” Eight said, “we come in peace.”

  “Honestly,” Ten groaned, “you would think that you had learned that when a police box TARDIS enters your headquarters, it usually is a peaceful thing.”

  “When it comes to the Doctor, nothing is known anymore,” the head Judoon observed. Knowing their identity startled Ten and Eight.

  “Then you do know us,” Eight confirmed.

  “One of you must be the Doctor and the other two are the companions.”

  This made Martha chuckle.

  “In truth, mate,” she corrected, “there’s just one companion here. And you’ve seen us before, you know.”

  “Your face is unknown to me.”

  “Ouch, that’s humbling. I can see that I didn’t make much of an impression.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” Ten reassured her, “he doesn’t recognize you because he doesn’t know you. The Judoon are all known for having similar voices. Almost identical. Therefore, this could be a whole different squad than the one we met on the moon.”

  “Oh, good to know.”

  “Cease talking,” the head Judoon demanded, “and present identification.”

  “I am reaching slowly into my pocket,” Eight warned them, moving his hands slowly, “there is no need for eager triggers, gentlemen.”

  “We are not gentlemen; we are intergalactic law enforcers.”

  “No offense meant, I can assure you.”

  Eight reached into his pocket and pulled out the psychic paper. Ten did the same as well.

  The Judoon took them both and inspected it. They spoke amongst themselves, and then raised their guns at the trio.

  “Whoa!” Ten, Eight and Martha said, simultaneously.

  “You are performing an act of deception,” the Judoon General voiced, “both papers state that you are the Doctor. This is a ploy. Your sentence is death.”

  “Whoa!” Ten, Eight and Martha said in unison again.

  “Their papers speak the truth,” a voice said from behind them all. They all turned to the voice and what Martha could only assume was a woman, came forward. She was wearing long, sweeping robes, and was bald and pale. She had an imposing look, which was fitting, considering what station she might have been.

  “Doctors,” She spoke.

  “Chief Justice,” Eight and Ten greeted, “nice to see you again.”

  “Really?” She asked, “because often I have found that you dread meeting me again.”

  “Oh, poppycock,” Ten assured her.

  “You knew that we were the same man?” Eight asked.

  “I knew it as soon as you both set foot here. For I have seen both of your faces before, have I not?”

  “You remember us? Well, this is our companion, Martha Jones. Martha Jones, this is the Chief Justice of the Shadow Proclamation.”

  “You insult my intelligence, Eighth Doctor,” she replied sharply, “For I have made the acquaintance of your companion before.”

  “You have?” Martha asked.

  “Not quite yet,” Eight replied, shaky, “but you will.”

  The Chief Justice squinted in confusion.

  “It’s just one of those days,” Eight elaborated, shrugging.

  “Now then,” Ten cut in, “In case you were not informed yet, Martha is my companion, and to be clear, I’m Ten. And we both were just saved from being executed on Mecrellas by my Eighth self, without a trial or appeal, for actions that I have not committed yet.”

  “You are referring to the shutting down of the original Imitation Games, am I correct?”

  “Yes, that is what we were accused of disbanding. I can only assume that it was my future self.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Eight disproved. Martha and Ten turned to him.

  “Wait,�
�� Ten realized, “It was you? You’re the one who eliminated the original Imitation Games on Mecrellas?”

  “I’m not ashamed of my triumphs.”

  “So, it was you that I was arrested for being? Mind you, you are me, but still. You did this?”

  “I did.”

  “Then how don’t I remember it? I would’ve thought that I would have recalled that.”

  “That’s a mystery for a later date.”

  “Yes, but it’s a good question nonetheless.”

  They both turned back to the Chief Justice.

  “So, you almost got executed,” she summed up, “and you had to save yourself. Come, you’ve had a trying day.”

  They all followed her along, and eventually they entered a large room, where there was a long table in the middle of it with some chairs. The whole trio was apprehensive at moving forward.

  “Um, forgive us as we hold back,” Eight explained, “but that’s a pure white table in a dark room, with the light focusing solely on it. This is a trap waiting to happen.”

  “You offend us, Doctor,” the Chief Justice said, walking onward, “this is the Shadow Proclamation, not a tower of terror. Come forward, for this is the room where we shall summon the head judiciary council.”

  “You’re bringing them in,” Ten said, wrapping his arm around Martha’s shoulders as he steered her forward, “Is the matter that serious?”

  “No, not really. It’s just simply that I know you will be upset, and I’m not in the mood to be the one to give you the answers. You’re not an easy individual to control, Doctor. You didn’t even follow the rules of your people.”

  “I do not apologize for my inner sense of rebellion, Chief Justice,” Eight smiled warmly, “you’ve met my people; you see our dress sense.”

  The Chief Justice looked Ten and Eight up and down.

  “Yes, I have,” she sniffed the air, and they all followed her to the table.

  ⌛

  Once they sat down, the Chief Justice turned to the darkness of the room and spoke into it.

  “Head Council,” she proclaimed, “I call you all, this day, to the high chambers. A day has come, where the Shadow Proclamation is visited by two Doctors, two incarnations of the same Timelord and they return from upheaval in a previous offender, the planet of Mecrellas. Fill the chamber with your presence.”

  In the darkness, Martha, Eight and Ten saw movement. Suddenly, in the vastness of the black, stars appeared.

  “What is this?” Martha asked. “What’s happening?”

  “The Head Council are not corporeal,” Chief Justice explained, “they are beyond form and location. Therefore, we open a window through space and time to see them.”

  “So, we shall be speaking to voices?” Ten extrapolated, “lovely. Nothing like talking to invisible forces to make one feel comfortable and sane.”

  “Nonsense, Doctor,” Chief Justice dismissed, “you always were a pessimist.”

  “Am I a pessimist?” Ten asked Martha, but he didn’t wait for her reply, “No, I defy that declaration. Martha’s seen me find joy in being in the rain, in the middle of the slums of a city where half the people died from an airborne disease from people selling moods.”

  “Moods?” Eight asked.

  “Don’t worry,” Martha reassured him, “I’ll tell you all about it later. You’ll love to hear about it.”

  “Don’t tell him anything.”

  “Don’t tell her what to do,” Eight corrected, “what are we during your run—a dictator?”

  “No, a realist.”

  “We’ll discuss this later, you both,” Martha ordered, snapping her fingers, “now pay attention.”

  Martha pressed her cheek against Eight’s shoulder, as a way of thanking him. He tapped her head with his hand, affectionate and then they paid attention to the Chief Justice.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ten watching them however, so she smiled and whispered.

  “Buy some happy,” she voiced, repeating what the sellers were always saying in New Earth.

  “Happy, happy,” Ten responded, smirking as he turned away and looked at the Chief Justice.

  “Behold, Doctors and Doctor Jones,” she presented, “for the Head Council.”

  The stars in the darkness became more prominent, and then four large figures stood up.

  And large was not the word for it.

  Sitting down at the table, the Doctors and Martha were heavily dwarfed. The figures rose to be three stories tall and against the stars, their figures were imposing but also regal to behold. They were not people though, but carved from wood. It was as if they were large puppets—impressive puppets. And as they moved, with ease and grace, it was magnificent to behold them. Two of the puppets were clearly female with long wooden hair resting over their shoulders, and the other two were male, with beards carved on them. Being wood, their faces or lips did not move as they spoke, but movement and a voice came from them.

  “Welcome Doctors,” the first female voice spoke, her wooden arm gesturing to them slowly as she bowed her head, “I am Zanoria, Corporal Justice of Galactic Court.”

  “I am Luxor,” one of the males voiced, “High Councilman.”

  The last two introduced themselves as Rebrullen and Nettril.

  “Doctors and Doctor Jones, all rise,” the Chief Justice ordered them. The Doctors and Martha stood up.

  “Hail with your right hand,” Eight advised Martha.

  The Doctors hailed the High Council and Martha followed their example.

  “High Council,” Ten introduced, “I am the Doctor, Timelord of Gallifrey, the Tenth Incarnation.”

  “I am also the Doctor,” Eight informed them, “Timelord of Gallifrey, the Eighth Incarnation.”

  “And I am Doctor Martha Jones, human of… London, Earth. And the only incarnation of myself.”

  “Welcome, Doctors,” Luxor bowed his head, “you are most welcome to the Shadow Proclamation.”

  The stars grew all around them and soon the whole room was filled with the night sky.

  “What is this?” Martha asked.

  “No room itself is fully secret or safe,” Nettril said, “therefore you are now being transported through space itself, and we never remain at the same coordinates for more than a few minutes. Therefore, you are safe, for the oxygen and climate control from the room is still around you, but this meeting is now travelling through space itself.”

  As she spoke this, a meteor shower rushed behind them, in the distance.

  “Beautiful,” Ten complimented, “I mean truly, this is beautiful.”

  “Indeed, it’s stellar,” Eight exclaimed.

  As he said this, Ten looked at him, then he turned to Martha as she looked between them both. He knew that she had remembered—when he had looked at her curiously when she had said stellar. But of course, she had never known… ‘stellar’ was sometimes Eight’s catchphrase. Or did she say it that time, because of Eight? And she had just not known it at the time? So many questions…

  “So, through space we are travelling,” Martha echoed, “but why? Why the need for secrecy?”

  “There is not full need for it, but a simple desire to always maintain it,” Zanoria elaborated.

  “All of our meetings take place in space now.”

  “I feel so important now,” Ten smiled. “While also feeling annoyingly small. I don’t think my ego can take much of this.”

  “Your witty psychopathic nature is legend,” Zanoria commented.

  “Witty psychopathic?!”

  “Well, if the shoe fits,” Eight observed.

  “You thought we were half-human.”

  “Oh, quiet yourself, and must you keep bringing that up?” Eight turned back to the Head Council, “Councilmembers, I am the Eighth Doctor, yes, and it was during my incarnation that the Imitation Games were shut down, on the Planet of Mecrellas.”

  “Your actions in rebellion against the games have been recorded, Doctor.”

  “
We assisted you,” Rebrullen pointed out, “we sent our space warriors across the skies to give you aid, despite the frustration we had and still have been experiencing due to the never-ending agony of the Time War.”

  Martha looked at Ten and saw that his eyes were alert.

  They were speaking about the Time War—as if it were still happening. She made a mental note of this to ask the Doctor about later.

  ⌛

  “You took assistance from the Shadow Proclamation?” Ten asked Eight.

  “Yes, I did,” Eight responded, wondering why this would be an issue, “the Imitation Games was a global crisis which Mecrellas did not inform the Shadow Proclamation about. They were a planet who was using its lower classes and criminal population for blood-sport, and didn’t get any universal or galactic permission for their activities. Thus, I consulted the Shadow Proclamation.”

  “The law is vast,” Nettril added, “and the rules are infinite. When the Doctor came to us, we discovered that Mecrellas was prohibited to commit mass genocide in regards to interplanetary activities when it did not pertain to any sort of real war or historic relevance.”

  “Real war or historic relevance?” Ten echoed. “you mean to say that when massive crimes occur on a planet, the Shadow Proclamation will not interfere, because it is not for ‘recreation’?”

  “It was more than that. The Mecrellans also were opening gateways through time and space to mimic other planets’ histories. This not only caused cosmic ripples, but it was creating tears in the universe.”

  “And between that and the sad fate of the war between the Daleks and you Timelords,” Luxor spoke, “reality was coming too much undone. Therefore, with our assistance, yes, we all shut down the games.”

  “But now I’ve heard some alarming reports,” Eight furthered, “This morning I saved my future self and my past companion from being executed because of my actions and our involvement in these games.”

  “This is true?” Zanoria asked.

  “It is,” Ten confirmed, “but what’s more, I wish to know why the games are now continuing, when you shut them down.”

  “Because it is no longer in our jurisdiction,” the Chief Justice elaborated.