“The Lost Room.”
Cast: Nomad, The Professor, Pirx the Pilot, K9 and special guest star: Mme. Bouvier.
-Also, (showing that death is not always a bar to a successful screen career) the late David Carradine as the body.
Nomad looked at the blank screen. He had been looking at it for some time. He had his thoughtful face on.
He was half drifting in and out of sleep. He did that more these days. Opposite his chair, a small red light changed to green, illuminating his face in a more sinister hue.
K9 rolled out of his recharge bay. Sensing Nomad was resting, he waited patiently to report his status. Nomad stirred and stood up. “No time to sleep, -things to do.” He said to no-one in particular. “Like plotting course for the eye of Orion, or did I already do that?”
“Already on course. -Master.” K9 told him in his slightly sing-song voice.
“Ah, yes. I’m taking the long way around, -so as to get some proper rest before my holiday.” Nomad told K9.
Nomad looked over the console at the robot dog. “Of course something will go wrong. It always does.”
“Affirmative, Master.”
“I only hope I get some prior warning this time.” Nomad waited for a response, but K9 was quiet. He continued talking to himself. “In fact I’ve got a feeling in my bones, that there is danger ahead.”
Not knowing what to reply, K9 stood silent.
On board the Professor’s Tardis, things were a little different. The Professor was having a hard time with his Tardis terminal. He thumped it hard with his fist. On the screen in front of him was a graphical display of a tee-shirt. The shirt had an eagle emblem on it, and the legend around the edges read ‘30 seconds to Mars.’
In his best handwriting, the Professor had scribbled the same motto in Gallifreyan onto a piece of paper and was trying to scan it into the computer. But something was wrong. “Something is wrong!” The Professor yelled. “Again!” Behind him, Mme. Bouvier tiptoed across the console room, knowing from experience that the Professor could start lashing out when he was cross. He’d never hurt her of course, but sometimes it was better to be out of range when bits of equipment got the brunt of his anger.
The Professor picked up the scanner and jiggled the wires. There was a loud pop, and the flash of an electrical discharge. The Tardis lights dimmed somewhat. The Professor looked down at the fused equipment, and tossed it across the room. It landed with a loud and somewhat distantly resonant boom. “That’s not good.” The Professor looked worried. “So very-not-in-any-way good.”
Meanwhile, Pirx had decided to get some rest. Nothing was going to happen for some time. He knew that the Professor was best left alone. His temper could last for hours or days at a stretch. ‘Better to leave the old boy to it.’ He thought to himself.
The resonant boom sounded again. The Professor finally looked up. “-That’s the cloister bell!”
Mme. Bouvier summoned the courage to ask what that was. “An alarm bell. A signal to Timelords that universal disaster is impending.”
“-And it’s a bell?”
“Actually the real bell was removed by the previous owner. It’s an electronically sampled bell sound.”
Mme Bouvier frowned. “You mean like a gramophone recording?”
The Professor smiled down at the little lady. His tone is ever-so-slightly patronising. “Certainly. Like a gramophone recording.” He paused, then sighed. “I’m going to have to get you up to speed with modern technology aren’t I, eh?”
With that he turned and tapped a fancy brass-edged dial on the console, and tried to read the rapidly scrolling paper tape spewing from a telegraph receiver. Mme. Bouvier stalked off.
[ROLL OPENING CREDITS]
Pirx couldn't sleep with the cloister bell sounding every few seconds. He’d only just taken off his pilot fatigues. He shrugged, rubbed his eyes and slipped back into them. Moments later he returned to the console room to see The Professor and Mme. Bouvier glaring at one another.
“Something up?” He asks.
The other two look at him. “Something very ‘up’, I’m afraid.” The Professor says, not looking in his direction.
“Where are we headed?” Pirx asks.
“A planet called Qularis. Have you heard of it?”
Pirx wasn’t sure. To be sure he wasn’t sure, he shook his head.
Nomad looked down at K9. “I expect the Professor has something to do with this.” Nomad sighed. “He always does!” Nomad snapped a switch on the console, and the time-rotor started to pulse faster. “Only this time, I’m going to get there first!”
Meanwhile, the Professor is reading the punched tape at an alarming rate, chattering to himself. “Where are you headed Nomad?” He asked. “Where? Where? Where?”
He stopped reading, and backs up the tape. “Aha!” He yelped. “Got you!” In his excitement, the paper tears across. The loose end fluttered to the floor. “Here we are…..The Eye of Orio…..” He looked up. “A planet made entirely of chocolate….?”
He scrabbles around for the loose end. “Ah! No. that’s where you were headed. Now you’re on your way to Qularis…..And so are we……Interesting.” He steps back and yells into the interior of the Tardis. “Pirx! Madame! Get your stuff! We’re going for a walk!”
With a smooth swooshing noise, Nomad’s Tardis materialises. As it flickers into existence on Qularis, it rapidly changes appearance to match its surroundings. A graceful Doric column finally blends in with the surroundings. Inside Nomad is filling his pockets with useful things. Pirx is strapping on his gun, and K9 is doing a sensor sweep. “Care for a walk K9?” Asks Nomad.
As Nomad unlatches the door, another rushing, whooshing sound is heard. The Professor’s Tardis is dematerialising, and having rather a struggle too by the sound of it. Finally with a loud thud, heard only on the outside, the Professor's Tardis is in position. The Professor is pleased with himself. “Ha Ha! Beat him too it!” He opens the door. He can hear birds chirping softly, and tree frogs gently singing.
“-And it’s so peaceful. Tranquil. Serene….-And Oh….!” The rest of his words are drowned out by the clanging sound of Nomad opening his Tardis door into the Professor’s. The Tardises are technically apart. But any closer and one could step between the two. The gap is a little less than three inches between them. “Peaceful no longer!” Nomad is cross. The two Timelords glare at one another across the gap.
“Space hog!” Nomad growls at the Professor tries to cross between them.
“That’s rich coming from someone who is always following me around!” the Professor yells back.
“I was here first!”
“I heard the cloister bell first.”
“They all ring simultaneously!” Nomad counters.
“But mine rings first, because its electronic, not actually a physical bell that has to sound. So retro!”
Nomad isn’t paying attention. He pats the Tardis like one would pat a favourite horse. “Don’t listen to anything that the nasty Professor says.”
By this time the Professor has successfully micro-jumped his Tardis away. The distance between them is now ten-inches. Nomad disregards the Professor, and squeezes through the gap. “Come on K9, time for a walk!”
“Affirmative!”
Mme Bouvier and Pirx squeeze out of the Professor's Tardis together. They shoot one another a look that says everything and nothing. K9 has to do a three-point-turn to manoeuvre out of the tight space.
The Timelords are still arguing as they take in their surroundings. Nomad is pointedly saying “I really like uninhabited planets…..” The Professor responds. “I couldn’t find a parking space!” They wander off. The Professor is holding a machine gun, Nomad is holding a piece of leather. Things look as though they might end in violence, until Nomad clips the leather lead to K9.
The Professor is scornful. “You put an autonomous robot dog on a lead?”
K9 responds. “Negative. Sensor readings are broadcast empathically.”
“Pfft!” The Professor stalks off.
Nomad feels a little embarrassed. When the Professor is not looking, He unclips the lead, and puts it back in his pocket. “Good answer! Good dog!” he whispers.
Around the two Tardises are several dozen other columns. There are piles of rubble that might once have been one- or several buildings. The whole area is atop a flat hill, and down one side they can see a track leading to a settlement.
“Looks like the Acropolis.” Observes Mme. Bouvier.
“After someone blew it up. -Properly.” Adds the Professor. [ 1 ]
“It looks much the same as I remember.” Observes Pirx. Though in truth in his time it is only piles of rubble with the odd column still standing.
“At least in your time they didn’t erect a frankly fearsome flawless Frankopyrgos on the site." [ 2 ]
“That’s easy for you to say.”
Pirx takes a deep breath. “I love the smell of Twiglets in the morning!” he announces. Soon he is tired of looking around. A Doric column that has been carved to be the same as all the others scattered around is not grabbing his attention. “Maybe I can start a Twiglet franchise!” The Professor turns on him. “Not here you don’t. In fact not anywhere!” Those little savoury snacks nearly cost me my liberty!” [ 3 ]
Mme Bouvier asks. “This could actually be Greece!” [ 4 ]
The Professor corrects her. “Qularis five. Two moons. Moon ‘A’ and.…”
“Moon ‘B’” She guesses.
The Professor tries to deflect the conversation. “Virtually uninhabited.”
“So where’s the disaster?” Pirx interrupts. “Maybe there’s a mega-freighter loaded with Twiglets about to descend screaming into this pleasant backwater….”
Nomad overhears this. “That really would be impending doom. We’d have to put the Professor on trial. Again!” He grabs his lapels and struts around like a barrister. “I would like to present exhibits A, B, C – some slightly charred Twiglets- through to Z to the power of forty-million. – slightly less charred and actually still edible Twiglets. All the Professor’s fault. Again! I rest my case. -And might I say that tarring and feathering is too good for him.”
Pirx looks around. “I might go to the village. Sell them some technology….”
The Professor is reading data off a electronic memo pad. “Humanoids. Earth-like. About five feet tall. Low tech. Stone age….”
In the end Pirx, and the Professor go and check out the village. Pirx asks Mme. Bouvier is she’s up for a walk. “I’m with you…Honey!” She smiles sweetly. They try to walk arm in arm, but Pirx’s tall skinny frame and her short stature spoil the effect.
After a pleasant few minutes they reach the bottom of the hill, and wander into the village. “Definitely stone age.” Muses the Professor.
Pirx points. “Those huts are made of wood!”
“Must be Wood age. -Very Dangerous when a civilisation gets to wood age.”
“How so?”
“Splinters. –Oh, and the danger of falling bears.”[ 5 ]
In true western style, the villagers urgently usher in their grubby children, and slam doors and windows. A lone tumbleweed skitters down the main street and back into the lush jungle beyond. (Where it is grabbed by a stage-hand) [ 6 ]
The Professor calls out. “I’m the Professor. We mean you no harm! All I have to know is….Where…they’re….at!”
Mme Bouvier points at his sub-machine gun slung over his shoulder, which is pointing at the local orphanage. He lowers the weapon. Mme. Bouvier is relieved. She starts holding out glass beads and a necklace to entice the children out. Finally after some time, the village elders come out of their houses and after clearing up the little understanding, they hold a feast in the visitors honour. –Well, more like a cup of pine-needle soup, pine needle tea, and pine needle scones, with lashings of pine-needle cream and jam.
Back on the hill, Nomad has found a graven image. It is in a bit of an awkward place, being face down and propped on two boulders. “Look what I found!” There is a scratchy metallic coughing sound from K9. “There, there! A little laryngitis eh, K9?” He shuffles under the stone image to get a better look. He shines a torch onto it, then decides that rather than looking at it, and getting cramp, he’ll make a sketch from memory.
Nomad's sketch. as dictated by K9, and replicated here for your delight.
Nomad looks at the sketch. “A very good sketch if you ask me….” Another metallic cough comes from K9’s innards.
In the village, the elders are telling the Professor about the hill and the ruined temple.
“We’re colonists. Our ancestors build temple to metal saucers in the sky. Then spiky things come then man come. The temple is cursed. Spiky things go. Man goes. Peace comes.”
Mme Bouvier is listening intently. Tears are rolling down her cheeks. “Its like a Greek tragedy....”
The Professor shushes her harshly. “So you say the temple is cursed?” He asks.
“Yes”
“-And really, really dangerous?”
“Very dangerous!”
The Professor suddenly springs to his feet. “-And we left Nomad there!” He yells. Pirx and Mme. Bouvier jump up too.
“Oh, no need to all get up.” The Professor says, calming down. “I was only going to get another of those delicious pine-needle scones. Yum! Yum!”
Pirx is still mulling over the story. “So you’re colonists?”
“Yes.”
“And your ancestors build the columns?”
“Yes.”
He grins a broad Cheshire-cat grin. “So does that make them ‘columnists’ then?”
“No.”
The tumbleweed blows back from the jungle. -In the opposite direction this time.
Mme Bouvier is getting the hang of the tribe. They really are a bit primitive. She whispers to the Professor. “They’re like the Kali people of India are they, Professor?”
Back on the hill, K9 is waiting beside one particular column. Nomad wanders over. “Oh K9, you know what to do by now…..”
“Sensors indicate that column is not a column.”
“Eh?”
“Column has feint electrical impulses.”
“Okay, so do it carefully.” Nomad warns him.
“More data must be gathered.”
“Okay, I’ll wait…...Do you want me to stop watching?”
“Further analysis suggests a door, master.”
“Well step inside and do your business…..Oh, I see what you mean. It looks like a door!” Nomad steps inside, and narrowly avoids tripping down a small step into a large room.
“It’s a Tardis. – I think. No lights on…Umm ….Very strange.” K9 trundles forward and turns on his spotlight. In the dimness, a console can be seen. Nomad steps closer to the console. “Powered down. Almost completely. Plenty of carbon scoring though. Systems have been stripped too.”
By this time, the Professor, Pirx and Mme. Bouvier have arrived back. They look around for Nomad, but he cannot be seen. After some searching, they notice the tracks left by K9 which lead up to a column and stop. Ever the Timelord of action, the Professor unlimbers his gun. Pirx climbs to the top of the column, but sees nothing there. As he climbs down the Professor opens fire at the column, emptying half a clip at it. The bullets fly everywhere like angry hornets. The noise is appalling.
When the dust settles, they look closer at the column, and discover the door. They push it open, and step inside down the step inside. Read that bit again –You’ll get it next time!
After a few minutes, they put on a torch an look around. There are Nomad-type noises off the main console room, so they follow on there. Nomad had managed to restore some emergency lighting, bathing everything in a hellish red glow. He instead opts for low-lighting, resulting in ‘Indian restaurant’ style moody gloaming.
As soon as the lights are on, Mme. Bouvier decides to have a look around. She wanders off through rooms that she finds puzzling, and into rooms that she finds more interesting. Most of these are cabins. One is fairly plain, and ready for a visiting guest. The sheets are on the bed folded, and the wardrobe is empty. Another contains women’s clothes. Most of which would not fit Mme. Bouvier’s small frame. Though she does find some silk scarves and handkerchiefs that are to her liking. The next room is a junk room, and beyond that a rather handsome looking room with four-poster bed, a little bureau; a cocktail cabinet in lovely teak-effect laminate; some comfortable chairs and many well-stocked bookcases. It would remind her of a gentleman’s club if she’d ever been in one. There are lots of little things that she can pocket while she has the chance.
Pirx has also wandered off. The Professor and Nomad are talking shop. Or rather talking Tardis, which is an amalgam of both technical and buffoonery to Pirx’s ears. He finds several rooms filled with electronics. Some of them are rather retro and outdated, while others are sleek and futuristic even to his eyes. On a little panel he finds some etched icons, and a selector switch underneath. They are of various shapes, such as Doric columns, boxes, trees and crates. He imagines that these are the default settings for the chameleon circuit. He looks again, but now they have blended into the background, and he can’t spot them a second time. He wanders on. After yet another room filled with technology he decides to step outside for a breath of fresh air. The inside smells a bit stale and there is the feint lingering smell of something in the air.
Nomad and the Professor are trying to power-up the Tardis. After some time fiddling with the secondary control console, Nomad reels off a long list of internal systems. The Professor keeps saying either ‘destroyed’ or ‘repairable’ or ‘offline’ in response.
Finally Nomad rummages around and finds a battery. To the viewers it looks like a 20th century earth nine-volt battery sprayed silver.
[ 7 ]
Nomad plugs it in. “Aha! Now at least we have architectural configuration!”
“It would have been better to have enabled the IWDS system.”
“Why do you say that, Professor?”
“Because whatever happened here, whatever fire-fight, and mass destruction of internal systems, could happen again. -While we are standing here.”
“Well, at least you came armed.” Nomad says, looking rather distastefully at the Professor’s machine-gun, resting on the console.
“I always go everywhere armed.”
“So I noticed.”
The Professor is quiet for a minute. Then he says. “Looking at the damage, I’d say there was a fire-fight, and then some-one or some-thing went through the Tardis, stripping any useful and removable technology. Anything else was either sabotaged or left. At some point it lost power, and is now running on the tiniest of reserves. Obviously some systems like the console room, the real-word interface and architectural stability are hard-wired. Other things like life-support and main computer functions are all powered down. The question is….Why?”
Nomad shrugs. Scooby-doo-like he says. “I don’t know!”
Mme Bouvier has finished her sweep. She goes to report back to the two Timelords. As she makes her way back, she stops and sniffs. There is the distinct smell of baking bread in the air. Even over the smell of burned out computers. She steps into the secondary console room to report.
“There is a strange smell out there.”
Nomad is quick to respond. “That’ll be the Professor’s tee-shirt. I swear he’s been wearing it since we left Babybearsporridge!” [ 8 ]
Pirx is stalking about. For want of better things to do, he is trying to reconstruct the apparent battle that went on in here before. As he crouches down to look at something, he gets that nasty feeling that he’s being watched. He shivers involuntarily, and decides to go outside. As he stands up, he feels a hand on his shoulder. He spins around, gun in hand. But there is only K9 there. K9 would wag his tail, only he hasn’t got one. Pirx clears his throat and goes to the door. Through the door he can see armed villagers coming up the hill. He slips out, and finds a hiding place to watch from.
The villagers are armed with spears and bows and arrows. They are obviously looking for the Professor and the others.
The Professor has found something. He starts pulling cables and making connections. Nomad is telling him about what he found outside earlier on.
“I found some carvings. It showed the ruins of a temple. Probably here on this site. Also a disc-shaped saucer in the sky and some cone-shaped things.”
“That’d be cones.” The Professor tells him, from the innards of the console.
“But cone shaped-things?”
“Lots of races are cone shaped. H. P. Lovecraft wrote about cone-shaped creatures from the stars.” [ 9 ]
The Professor emerges with some circuits in his hand. To a casual observer, they look like 20th century circuits sprayed silver.
Mme Bouvier asks whether the Tardis might be haunted. Nomad tries to reassure her. “Possibly a psychic residue. -The Tardis gets to resemble its owner after a fashion….”
“Is that why the Professor’s Tardis is so…..”
From under the console there is a muffled “Standing right here!”
The Professor slides out like a mechanic would from under a car. He tells Mme. Bouvier “I once tried to join the psychic society….”
Nomad asks. “What about it?”
“They saw me coming!”
The tumbleweed blows across the console room, and out the other side. Because of the dodgy architectural circuits, it reappears through a different doorway, opposite. Nomad says. “There’s no such thing as ghosts, Madame.”
“Tell that to the lady who walked through here without using the door!”
“That wasn’t a ghost!”
“She had sheets and rattling chains!”
“He’s the chambermaid. They have a big problem with guests stealing the laundry!”
Mme Bouvier is defensive. "I wouldn't know anything about that!"
The Professor stands up. “Where’s Pirx?”
“Outside I think, communing with natives.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
We cut to Pirx, who is pacifying the natives. “Free Twiglets, all you can eat!” The natives respond with a volley of arrows and a few spears. Pirx runs back to the dead Tardis’ doorway. A spear catches him in the shoulder. Luckily for him, the door is not facing the natives. They start searching for him, looking puzzled and scratching their heads.
He creeps inside. There is a look of pain on his face.
In the secondary console room, it is Nomad’s turn to fiddle with buttons and loose wires. “Hey look at this!”
“All I see is a blank screen!”
“Exactly!”
The Professor and Mme. Bouvier look at him just as blankly. “Don’t you see it?”
“No.”
“Me either.”
“It’s the Zero room! It's still active! -And consuming most of what little power remains!”
“Okay, so locate it.”
Nomad punches up a schematic. It looks like a Sierpinski pentagram.
“That looks like a Sierpinski pentagram.”
“-It is!”
You are here. And Here. And Here and over here. ...!"
Nomad reverts to the original blank display. “The reason we can’t see inside the zero room….Is because the light is off!”
“What about life form readings?”
“Wait a second……there!”
The three of them crowd around.
“Twelve life-form readings. All very feint.”
Can you vague that up a bit for me…..Actually can you present that in a different way?”
Nomad does some typing at a keyboard. He shows them a diagram.
Here’s a pie chart. Of life form readings.
“How about a bar graph?”
Type-type-type.
“A doughnut graph?”
Whatever way you represent it, the data is the same. “How about a… Oh, never mind.”
Maybe if I adjust the current going to the light bulb in the zero room remotely….
“You mean turn on the switch?”
“Yeah, something like that….”
The Professor plugs in a little plug, and flips a switch. There is a feint glow seen on the display. They can make out some shapes, and the body of a humanoid lying on the floor. Then the bulb pops, and the room is plunged into darkness once more.
Pirx says. “I think I saw a body…..”
“Me too.” Says a little voice.
“He’s wearing a tux.” Pirx goes on.
“Interesting. We should get him out of there.” The Professor says.
Nomad is one step ahead. “It’s the zero room. We can’t get in.”
“How so?”
“Because once you close the door from the inside, nothing or nobody can open it again.”
“Like a vault?”
“Like a vault that nothing works in. Nothing kinetic, no radiation, no magnetic fields, not anything.”
So how do we get in?”
“We don’t. Unless mister body decides he wants to get out. He stays in. -Forever….”
They all think about this for a minute. Mme. Bouvier says “Show me the door.” They navigate to the door. It’s locked. “Not only locked but sealed. A nuclear bomb won’t open it. A Dalekanium mega bomb wouldn’t even scratch the surface. Even a black hole would not be able to penetrate.”
“And from the other side, there’s a lock right?”
“No. No lock. Not one. I suppose there might be a latch, but only to stop the door flapping about when the zero room is not in use.”
They all stare at the door. There isn’t even a keyhole. Just a door with a handle. Pirx pulls on it. It’s solid. “Just trying….” He says sheepishly.
Nomad is thinking again. “Okay, so we can’t open the door. We can’t get through that way.”
“You can’t get through any way. It’s a zero room. You couldn’t materialise a Tardis in there if that’s what you’re thinking…..”
“Materialise. Now that gets me thinking…. The way is barred…. Nothing in the universe can get through that door…..”
“You said it. Nothing.” The Professor reminds him.
“So we don’t go through the door.”
“But the walls are as solid as the door. Nice try Nomad. -But no cigar!”
“But on the other hand…. We have limited architectural configuration access. We don’t go through the door or the wall, we reprogramme the wall to be another door, and go through that.”
“Brilliant!” Mme. Bouvier and Pirx high-five.
“I was thinking that all along.” The Professor says. K9 coughs again.
Nomad ignores him. He types something, and rolls around a trackball. “Here. It’s so simple. Child play. Even a child could do it… There’s always a back door, literally and metaphorically…..ah….oops!”
Pirx asks “Do you want me to fetch a child?”
Nomad shushes him. “I think I deleted something.”
“What was it?”
“Well, not this room I hope. Not the real world interface I really hope.”
“Oh come on!”
“Don’t worry it’s….Er….it’s the I.W.D.S.”
“I.W.D.S?”
“Internal weapons deactivation system. It stops guns and lasers and things going off and damaging the Tardis.”
“Or the people in it.” Pirx says. “By the way, the natives are armed and restless outside.”
“Well, so long as they stay outside.”
“Might I point out that our means of escape, namely our own Tardises are also outside, on the other side of armed natives.
“No, you may not!” [ 10 ]
Nomad asks. “Are we ready?”
“We’re ready.”
“Okay. Pirx, you run in there into danger and haul the body out. I’ll stay here covering this end of the passage.”
“Who’s covering you?”
The Professor cocks his machine gun. “Me!”
Before Pirx can pick holes in this plan, Mme. Bouvier opens the door. Light from the adjacent room filters in. In the centre of the room is a body in evening wear. Around him are some ominous looking shapes. They are about five-feet tall, and covered in knobbly bits. –Daleks!
Mme Bouvier gasps, “This wasn’t part of the script!”
The others all go into a huddle and confer. Actually it was part of the script all along!
Pirx gives covering fire. Electronic bolts whizz around the zero room. The professor dives into the room and makes a grab for the body He starts to slide it out. The Daleks start to awaken from their torpor. Eyestalks turn in the direction of our heroes. Mme. Bouvier swoops in to help The Professor. Pirx fires to cover them. The Dalek guns start to swivel, and point in their direction. Pirx squeezes off a shot, and an enemy is blasted open. The icky insides ooze out and flail around alarmingly. The Professor squeezes off a few rounds from his gun and manages to scratch the paintwork.
With Mme. Bouvier’s help, The Professor manages to haul the body over the threshold, while Pirx puts a few more shots into the room. As they drag the body, a small piece of circuitry drops to the floor. Quick as a flash, Nomad closes his eyes. The circuit board quivers for a second, and then magically appears in his hand. Then he stabs three fingers onto the keyboard in front of him, and the door handle disappears forever.
“Oh bother!” Nomad gasps.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t delete the door.”
“What do you mean ‘can’t delete?’ It’s gone hasn’t it?”
“Yes its gone, but I keep getting an error message saying ‘are you sure?’”
“Well press yes, and you will be.”
“There isn’t a ‘yes’ option. It’s either ‘No’, or ‘No.’”
For more options, press ‘no.’
The Professor rounds on him. “Let me see that!”
“Oh, no!”
The Timelords wrestle with the problem. The other two search the body. Pirx searches for signs of life. There are none. Mme. Bouvier searches for signs of wealth. There are some. She manages to palm a few interesting items.
After a few minutes heated argument, the two Timelords look at one another. “How does one delete the door?”
There is a pause. Then suddenly together they have an idea. Its like watching a big wave rolling in form a distance. In unison they yell. “Control-Alt-Delete!”
They press the buttons together and look smug. To be certain, they delete the whole room as well. “Bye-bye pepper-pots, see you on the other side of never again!”
The room disappears. -Deleted into the vortex. A blank wall is the only thing left. Nomad thinks he should put something there in its place, but there isn’t time.
They look over the body. The Timelords can tell instinctively that he’s one of their kind. An older-looking gentleman, with careworn lines on his face, and smartly dressed. It would appear that he died naturally instead of violently. Trapped forever in the zero room, refusing to let the Daleks out.
“How did he do it?”
“A number of ways. Stopped his hearts, or bypassed the respiratory bypass defence. Whatever. However. He did us a service. Stopped the nasty brutes from terrorising the galaxy, and getting hold of Tardis technology.
“But how did they get in?”
“I don’t know. Probably lured him here with something. Knowing the Daleks, they probably threatened the village or something that he valued. Poor wretch.”
“What are we going to do with the body now?”
“We should say our farewells. We could put him in a room and send it back to Gallifrey, or delete it to the vortex, I suppose….”
“What was that bit of circuitry you found?”
Nomad looks it over. “A bit of recall circuit if I’m guessing correctly. The most valuable part in the Tardis. Whoever he was, saved us all. If the Daleks got hold of that, they could track back through the vortex to Gallifrey. It would be carnage on a global scale!”
“Valentine.” Says Mme. Bouvier suddenly.
“Eh?”
“The man. The body. His name was ‘Valentine.’”
The late Valentine.
The Timelords search their memories. They come up with nothing. “Could be a pseudonym of course.” Nomad concludes.
“Don’t see a need for pseudonyms.”
“I suppose you’ve always been called the Professor then?” Madame Bouvier asks.
“Actually he was known as ……” Nomad is interrupted by a sound behind them. Pirx is firing again, into the console room. Suddenly the door frame next to him explodes into shards, making a big hole in Pirx in the process.
Mme. Bouvier screams a warning, and The others take cover, as blasts from enemy Daleks streak across the room. She yells “Pirx is down!”
There is a horrible gurgling from Prix. The little lady runs to his aid. “Are you okay Pirxy?” she asks.
“I’m a bit discom…Discumbub…Disco fever….Blown away!”
In an act of sheer bravery under intense enemy fire, Mme. Bouvier drags Pirx into the next room, which happens to be the med bay. (c.f. R2D2 dragging the remains of C3PO) The Professor draws the Dalek’s fire, and Mme. Bouvier feeds Pirx to the medical droid.
Nomad re-routes power to the medical bay, and in an eery light, the droid gets to work. Luckily Pirx's silver nylon fatigues have taken some of the blast. A dermal plate is attached to his side, and micro-sutures start to patch the wound. When the screaming can be heard all around the ship, a needle comes out to sedate him.
Over the sound of gunfire, Nomad and the Professor have decided to send Valentine’s body back to Gallifrey. They start to build an improvised recall circuit that they can activate remotely, or on a timer. Nomad looks up when the Professor stops working on the circuit, and starts working on his staser.
Nomad chatters nervously to himself. "So, I have a plan. To collapse the trancendental dimentionalism of Valentine's Tardis and send it to to the big bang as a sort of graveyard for Tardises."
The Professor looks up. "That's easy for you to say! -Is that your plan?"
Of course its a plan. A very good plan. It's the ultimate in retoactive recycling. -As all energy and matter need to come from there anyway, and the recall circuit was only activated by a ... erm... short circuit. What could be a better send off for one of our own?" Nomad pauses, as more shots can be heard, and more sparks and smoke are seen.
"Question is, would the Daleks do the same for us?"
The professor fiddles with his weapon. "Im hoping it won't come to that. I've only a few more regenerations left....!"
“What are you doing?” asks Nomad.
“Amplifying the gain. It’ll give me more firepower for a shorter number of shots!”
“Fine, but I need a percussion cap.”
The Professor tosses over the machine gun. “Take a round out of there, but be careful!”
“No need to tell me to be careful!”
Nomad slots the cap into position. With the kitchen fork, gramophone horn and a speak-and-spell machine, it looks quite jury-rigged. “All ready to go!”
Back in the med bay, there is a ‘Ding!” sound. Pirx wakes up. “Bob?” he says. Then he regains some composure. “What happened?”
“The Daleks tried to make you into a Twiglet.”
“Oooh I could murder some salty corn snacks right now….”
“Sorry we’re all out. Not one left.”
“Somebody is going to pay and pay and PAY FOR THAT!”
Fortunately for the Daleks, Pirx is still a little woozy. He gets to his feet with help. K9 arrives under instructions to assist. There being little he can physically do, he downloads the medical droid’s software.
Together he and Mme. Bouvier assess the situation. It’s a short run under fire to the other console room, or a long run around the deck of the Tardis. Pirx decides to go the short way. “I’d never run far in my condition, I fear.” Mme. Bouvier decides on the long way. "So long as I keep going in the same direction, I’ll end up there anyway.”
“Okay, on three….” But the little lady has already run off as fast as her short legs can take her.
Pirx shrugs, and lays down a covering shot. As the gun stalks start to pan in his direction, he executes a magnificent roll, blasts off a few shots, cripples one Dalek, seriously wounds another and finally blasts the top off a third. The Daleks return fire, taking more chunks out of the walls. A lone Dalek is plugged into a socket on the console. It draws the fire of Pirx and the Professor. Between them they manage to stop whatever it is doing, but another takes its place.
Mme Bouvier is making good progress until she opens a door and there is nothing but blank wall beyond it. She turns back the way she came, but the room she enters is not the one she left. She tries another exit. This one is fine, but as she crosses the room, she finds herself re-entering the room from another direction. Frantically she tries door after door. We see her backtracking and running forward, ducking down corridors and trying doors. Its all getting rather confusing.
The Daleks have stopped firing for a moment to regroup. “Nothing must interrupt the Dalek purpose!” they buzz in their horrible grating monotone. “Daleks will be superior!”
The Professor yells “Only superior in their ability to die!”
Nomad is wrestling with the architectural configuration again. As soon as the plugged-in Dalek moves, swaps or deletes a room, he tries to override it and put it back. All the while Mme. Bouvier is getting more and more disorientated in a constantly changing maze. The Professor blasts another Dalek. This time it’s a telling shot. The metallic monster explodes in sparks. Electricity plays around its cone-shaped body.
Outside the Tardis several Dalek ships have landed. A few lone Daleks have swept any opposition from their path. Natives lie scattered dying or dead. Many have fled to their village in fear. Now a whole Dalek platoon is advancing towards the village, but the remaining villagers flee into the forest and hide.
The Professor and Pirx look out. There are still at least six Daleks between them and the door. “We’re trapped, and low on ammo.”
Nomad looks up, his hands not stopping what he was doing. “Working on it….”
Pirx tells him that Mme. Bouvier is nowhere to be seen. The Professor starts to say that she should be left behind, but the other two will not hear of it.
Nomad warns them. “Thirty seconds to dematerialisation….!”
The Professor fires again. Pirx gets Valentine in a fireman’s lift. Nomad types furiously. “If I can’t get to the door, I make the door come to me!”
Mme Bouvier suddenly appears. The real world interface disappears from the console room, and reappears next to them. “Booby trap set. Let’s Go!” Nomad starts off, the others are not far behind.
As they emerge, the Professor manages to gasp. “I’m surprised the H.A.D.S. system hasn’t overloaded.”
Nomad looks sheepish. “It certainly would be, -only I deleted it!”
Mme Bouvier asks. “Could you have deleted me?”
“I though I had. Twice!”
The Dalek ships swoop nearer, from behind the moon they were hiding behind. The Timelords manage to make it to their respective Tardises. There is no time for goodbyes. They both dematerialise.
Unfortunately our story does not quite end there. As soon as they are aboard, Valentine’s Tardis implodes. The shockwave is like a miniature black hole, sucking in matter and energy and light. This fades into the vortex in seconds, but something is very wrong. The recall circuit has triggered as planned, and the ripples from the shockwave are following it back to Gallifrey. The Timelords can only stand and watch. The Dalek ships scream into the bow-wave of the explosion, hurtling though time and space to Gallifreyan present. Our two Timelords start barking instructions, trying to race the explosion and the Dalek ships. Pirx steers Nomad’s Tardis as best he can, Mme. Bouvier is reading out data for the Professor.
At the other end of the vortex, Valentine’s Tardis explodes. It takes several Dalek sips with it, but still others are poring through the rent in the barrier. Nomad’s Tardis is buffeted, and he starts to lose power. The barriers around Gallifrey are breached, Dalek ships scream into the breach. Nomad starts an emergency shutdown, and manages to avoid a massive blast. He re-materialises on the barren surface of one of Gallfrey’s deserts. The Professor is blasted clear, and spins off into the vortex, his console a mass of sparks and fire.
There is silence for a second, so that the cloister bell can be heard again. Over the comms system are a few short words. Chillingly final. “The barrier is down! Daleks have entered the city! Repeat: Daleks have entered the……bzzzzt!”