Doctor Who: Time Lord Fairy Tales

by Various

  Too late Kyre realised what the Rutan was doing. It had avoided the obvious strategy of coming through the wall; instead, it was coming under it.

  Mud and soil exploded upwards as the whole floor of the stockade buckled and heaved. The walls were lit with a sudden green glow. Kyre managed to fire one bolt from his blaster before his whole body crackled with electricity and power surged through him. A moment later, the stockade walls exploded outwards in a massive electrical discharge.

  Commander Starn saw the explosion from his position outside the power plant. He had also seen the smaller display of light when Marshal Vrike was killed earlier. His tongue licked out over his thin lips as he considered the situation. He had been prepared for the worst, and here it was. Starn was not worried, though – either he would be gloriously victorious or, like his comrades, he would die honourably in battle. Starn lowered his helmet over his head, sealed it in place, then turned and walked into the power plant, where he would fight the Rutan enemy.

  The Rutan approached the power plant with caution. The thickness of the concrete walls meant that its heat sensors picked up nothing useful. It could not even be sure that the last of the Sontarans was inside the building, but it seemed likely – if the Rutan itself was to set a trap, then the derelict power plant was an obvious place.

  The Rutan surveyed the structure, keeping well back. It was aware that the glow it gave off was a disadvantage unless it could be masked, so it made sure to stay behind the trees and undergrowth, circling the building from a distance. There were several entrances. All but one had been completely blocked up, offering no chance of access, but the last was not so secure. A heavy metal door was drawn across it, but the metal at the top of one side was bent and corroded. There was enough of a gap for the Rutan to tear back more of the metal and create sufficient room to squeeze through.

  Cautiously, watching for any hint of movement and scanning for any point from which it might be observed, the Rutan approached the damaged door. As it got closer, it could see that the metal was shiny and not yet rusted where the door was damaged. This could only mean that the damage was new. Had the Sontaran damaged the door forcing it into place? Or was there a more sinister reason for it – was this a trap? The Rutan stopped to consider.

  Inside the power plant Commander Starn waited in the shadows, watching the point where he knew the Rutan would have to enter the building. His blaster was fully charged, and he had two scissor grenades remote-primed and ready. He had heard the distinctive bubbling, hissing sound of the Rutan as it approached the damaged doorway; Starn had bent and torn the metal himself, making sure the damage would be easily visible from outside. Now the sound faded. The Rutan was moving away – but where was it going?

  The Rutan slithered up the outside of the building. The roof was the one area it had not been able to examine from the safety of the wood. It had a good understanding of how these primitive power plants operated, though, and had deduced that what it needed must be in this section of the roof.

  Sure enough, the Rutan soon spotted a rectangular opening covered with wire mesh: a ventilation shaft. It calculated, from the angle of the shaft, that this would be ideal. The damaged door was obviously a trap – it was the only visible entry point, so the Rutan had to come in that way. But, while the Sontaran waited for the Rutan inside the damaged door, the creature would sneak into the power planet behind the Sontaran.

  Congratulating itself on its superior strategy, the Rutan tore its way through the mesh grill and slithered into the shaft beyond. Taking care not to make any noise, the Rutan worked its way down the ventilation shaft. Before long it could see the light coming from the other end. The floor beneath the shaft’s opening was covered in debris, but the Rutan felt no discomfort as it dropped down with a squelching sound. It turned slowly, assessing which route to take out of the chamber it now found itself in. Soon, the Rutan thought, it would attack the Sontaran from behind.

  But it was wrong about that.

  There was a movement in the shadows, and the third Sontaran stepped out into the light. He held a blaster in one hand, and some sort of remote-control device in the other.

  ‘Prepare to die, Rutan!’ Commander Starn said.

  The Rutan was surprised, but not worried. It could withstand a sustained blast from the Sontaran’s weapon and would still have long enough to destroy its enemy. The Sontaran was well within reach of its tentacles.

  ‘I knew you would guess the damaged entrance was a trap,’ Starn said. ‘But you were wrong. This is the trap.’

  ‘Your blaster cannot kill me,’ the Rutan retorted. It drew back a tentacle, ready to strike.

  The Sontaran gave a throaty laugh. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘But I don’t need it.’ Then he raised the device he held in his other hand and pressed the button on it.

  As well as knowing that the Rutan would guess the doorway was a trap and look for another way in, Starn also knew that there was only one other way into the power plant – the ventilation shaft. The remote signal from Starn’s device triggered the primed scissor grenades that he had positioned beneath the opening to the shaft and they detonated beneath the Rutan, blasting it to pieces. Blobs of green jelly spattered the floor and walls. The remains of the Rutan continued to glow for a few moments, then the light dimmed and died away.

  Commander Starn surveyed the damage with satisfaction. He brushed a few splotches of gelatinous green goo from his uniform, holstered his blaster, then turned and marched away. Victory belonged to the Sontarans at last.

  Heroes can be found in the most unlikely of places. Perhaps we all have it within us to do great things, but may simply lack the circumstances or the reason to be heroic. For Jak, his journey to becoming a hero all started with a humble cow.

  It was the last cow that Jak and his mother owned. Long ago, when Jak’s father was still alive, their family farm had been successful and prosperous; they had owned a whole herd of the very best cows in the land. But things change. Disease had killed most of the cows, and Jak and his mother had been forced to sell the rest, along with the fields and pastures where the cows had grazed, in order to make ends meet. Now they had to face up to the fact that they had no other choice but to sell their very last cow.

  She was a good cow – healthy and robust – and she would bring a good price at the market. But Jak knew that once the money from this cow was all used up there would be no more. Not unless they sold the farmhouse itself, and then where would they live?

  So it was with a heavy heart that Jak said goodbye to his mother and began the trip into the town, leading the cow behind him and talking to it all the way to keep his spirits up. As they neared the outskirts of the town, the houses gradually became larger and grander. On their way past an especially large and grand house, Jak heard a voice calling out from behind the ornate metal gates. It was weak and faint, but the words were clear: ‘Help me, please!’

  Jak looked around to see if there was anybody else about. But he was alone – there was no one else the voice could be calling to. So Jak went to the gates, and leaned forward to peer through them. As he did so, one of the gates swung slowly open. Curiously but cautiously, Jak went through.

  A man was lying inside the gates, just out of sight of the road. He was breathing heavily, and there was blood on his shirt. Leaving the cow to graze on a rather fine stretch of lawn, Jak ran to help the man. As he approached, he was surprised to recognise him: it was Councillor Jevan, one of the more senior of the country’s officials.

  ‘Councillor!’ Jak gasped as he reached him. ‘What happened to you? I must get help.’

  Councillor Jevan grabbed Jak’s arm. He shook his head weakly, and a trickle of blood ran out of the side of his mouth. ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘It is too late for me. But I have to make amends.’

  ‘Amends?’ Jak said. ‘What for?’

  ‘For what I have done. I have betrayed everyone.’ His breathing was laboured, and the blood bubbled at his lips. Jak could see the councillor wa
s not long for this world. He listened as the dying man went on. ‘Not through choice, you understand. I thought I was creating a bright future for our world. Riches and abundance. But I was tricked. And now, unless you help me, it is too late.’

  ‘Too late for what?’ Jak asked.

  ‘Too late for us all.’ The councillor’s eyes widened. ‘Tell me you will help,’ he demanded.

  ‘Of course – if I can,’ Jak replied.

  The councillor fumbled in his pocket, and finally managed to pull out a small metal object that was rounded like an egg and set with an intricate pattern of wires and studs. He pressed it into Jak’s hand.

  ‘What is this?’ Jak asked. He had never seen anything like it before.

  ‘I took it from the monster,’ Councillor Jevan said. He was finding it difficult to speak. ‘The monster I brought here.’

  Jak looked around, horrified. But the councillor said quickly, ‘It’s all right. The monster is dead. I killed it.’ He gave a rasping, throaty laugh. ‘Though I fear it has also killed me.’

  ‘But this –’ Jak held up the metal object – ‘what must I do with it?’

  ‘Destroy it,’ Councillor Jevan said. ‘Destroy it before more of the monsters come. Destroy it quickly.’

  Jak inspected the device. ‘I have to get to market first,’ he said. ‘I have to sell the cow or we shall have no money.’

  The dying man beside him convulsed with sudden laughter. ‘Money? Here.’ He pulled something else from his pocket. It was a cloth bag that jingled and clinked, and he pushed it towards Jak. ‘Take this. Then go home and destroy that device.’

  Jak took the bag. He eased open the drawstrings that held it shut, and peered inside. Aghast, he looked back at the councillor. ‘But there’s more money in here than I have ever seen before,’ he said. ‘I can’t take this.’

  He made to give it back to the councillor, but the man just stared back at him, not moving, not answering. It took Jak a moment to realise that he was dead. Jak stood there, unsure of what to do, and whether or not to take the man’s money. There was no question that he and his mother needed it, and Councillor Jevan had no use for it any more.

  Jak led the cow out of the gates, and set off for home. In his pocket, the bag of money jangled against the strange metal device.

  When he reached home, Jak took the cow back to the one field they had left, which was behind the house. He found his mother, and told her what had happened. She listened and nodded, then told him he had done the right thing and that he must now destroy the device – he had been paid to do a job, and the job must be done.

  Jak had no idea how to go about destroying the strange metal object. After some thought, he set it on the chopping block and swung the axe at it. But unlike the logs which split easily under the heavy, sharp blade of the axe, the device was not even dented. He put it in the fire, but the surface was not so much as charred, and when a log gave way and the device rolled out on to the hearth Jak found it was barely warm. He hammered it into the stone floor of the kitchen until his hands were sore and the stone was cracked, but the strange device wasn’t even scratched.

  As the sun dipped low over the distant hills and evening turned to night, Jak took a spade from the barn and went out into the field behind the house. In the failing light, he dug a hole as deep as he could. Then he dropped the metal device into the hole, and filled the hole over again with earth. He had not managed to destroy the device, but he did not imagine it would do any harm buried so deep in the ground and he was sure that the monsters Councillor Jevan had mentioned would never find it there. Satisfied that he had done the best he could, Jak put away the spade and made his way upstairs to bed.

  The next morning, Jak woke early. The sunlight was shining through his bedroom window the way it always did – except that this morning there was something different about it. It did not seem as bright as it should. Thinking it was perhaps a particularly cloudy day, Jak went to look out of the window. He stared in disbelief at the scene outside.

  In the air above the field was a swirling mass of … nothing. Right above where Jak had buried the metal device, the air seemed to pour into an inky black hole, like water draining out of a sink. Jak pulled on his clothes and hurried outside for a closer look.

  From where he stood on the ground in front of the swirling blackness, Jak could see that the hole extended backwards like a tunnel through the air. The darkness reached back and upwards, disappearing into the sky. But if it is a tunnel, Jak thought, where could it lead? There was only one way to find out. He walked slowly forwards, stretched out his hand and touched the blackness. It had no feeling at all. Slightly reassured by this, but still apprehensive, Jak stepped into the darkness.

  Immediately all light vanished. Jak could see nothing. He took one step forwards, then another, but still he could see nothing. Jak was beginning to wonder whether it would be better to turn back, when the darkness in front of him seemed to tear apart, ripped away like a torn piece of paper. Jak stepped forward yet again and into another world.

  He found himself standing in a wide corridor. Behind him, the air was a churning mass of darkness, just like the other end of the tunnel had been. Ahead, the corridor turned abruptly. Jak made his way cautiously along the corridor and found that it split in two, and one branch led to a large window. Jak glanced around to check there was no one about, then hurried over to see where he was – perhaps he would spot some landmark he knew. But when he looked out of the window he recognised nothing. He was looking out at the ruins of a city. The sky was filled with smoke, and debris covered the ground. Some of the buildings were on fire. Only the building he was in remained intact.

  Jak’s mind was in a whirl. Part of him was desperate to get back to the black tunnel and hope that it would take him home, but another part wanted to explore this strange, ruined world and find out what had happened here. He walked slowly back to where the corridors met. Just a quick look, he decided – he would walk a little way along the other corridor to see where it went. Then, back to the tunnel and home.

  As he followed it, the corridor curved slightly. Jak passed several doors, but they were all locked. Other passages led off it, but Jak stayed in the main corridor. The last thing he wanted was to get lost in a labyrinth of passageways.

  Jak had been walking for about five minutes when he heard someone coming towards him. His first instinct was to hide – he was not supposed to be here and, judging by the view he had seen from the window, this was not a safe world to be in. He ducked into the shadowy entrance of another passageway and pressed himself against the wall. He could hear heavy breathing as whoever was coming got closer, then deep, growling voices. Two people talking. He risked a quick look out into the corridor.

  They weren’t people.

  A short distance away, two creatures stood having a conversation. One of them had its back to Jak, but he could see the other clearly. It was the height of a tall man, and standing on two legs, but it had the head of a bull – complete with two long horns. Jak retreated into the darkness, straining to make out what the creatures were saying.

  ‘You are sure the device activated?’ one of them asked.

  ‘The modulation signal is clear,’ the other replied. ‘But the wormhole has not appeared in the appointed place.’

  ‘Then someone has moved the device. Perhaps Jevan betrayed us.’

  Jak felt cold at the sound of Councillor Jevan’s name. Were the creatures talking about the device that Jak had buried?

  ‘Perhaps. But soon he will die. Everyone on his pathetic world will die when the Nimon continue the great journey of life.’

  The creatures were moving again. Jak shut his eyes tight, hoping against hope that they would not come down the passageway where he was hiding. They passed by the end of it and kept walking.

  ‘Is the princess secure?’ one creature asked as they went by.

  ‘Yes, I have just come from her. But she is of no use to us now. She can stay in this world and d
ie with it, or be executed,’ the other creature replied.

  The creatures’ voices faded into the distance. Jak stepped out from where he was hiding. The creatures were now between him and the swirling blackness of the tunnel – his only escape. He considered following them, but his curiosity was heightened by what he had heard, so he set off in the opposite direction, the way the creatures had come.

  Jak was, when all was said and done, more than a little intrigued by the mention of a princess. Based on the fact that one of the bull creatures had said it had just come from the princess, Jak reasoned that she must be held captive somewhere along this corridor. As he turned a corner, he saw ahead of him a wide set of double doors. Outside stood one of the bull-headed creatures. The doors were held shut with a metal bar across them, and a single window in one door was covered with a grille. This could only be a prison cell.

  Jak stepped back round the corner before the creature saw him. He was pondering what to do when he heard the heavy footsteps of another of the beasts approaching. He risked peering round the corner, and saw another creature stride up to the one guarding the doors.

  ‘It has been decided,’ the newly arrived creature announced as it reached the door. ‘The princess is to be executed. See to it.’ Without waiting for a reply, it walked quickly on.

  Horrified, Jak continued to watch. The princess was about to be killed, while he just stood here. But what could he do? He had to do something. There was only the one creature again now. It turned to the door and lifted the metal bar out of its sockets. It put the bar down to one side of the door, then pushed the doors open and strode into the room beyond.

  Without pausing to think, Jak seized his opportunity. He ran quickly but quietly down the corridor and grabbed the metal bar. It was heavier than it looked, but he managed to heft it up on to his shoulder. Then he followed the bull-headed creature into the room.