Doctor Who: The Time Splicer: The Imitation Games

by Cour M.

  All the men from the group had disappeared.

  ⌛

  Four hours later, Daphne, along with all the other women from that trans-mat, were now sitting in the Draconis Police Force station. She was biting her lip, nervous as she tapped her foot against the ground. A part of her was in shock, while the other half had feared having to tell Miccas’s parents about what happened. Yet hopefully any moment, they would receive word that it was all just a trick and that the men had been found.

  She did not cry however.

  In fact, she could not cry.

  The shock was just too unreal.

  Staring ahead, she was so distracted, that she didn’t even notice that a Universal Police Forcer was standing in front of her.

  “Daphne Grans,” the Police Forcer repeated after she did not hear him the first time. “Daphne Grans.”

  “Oh,” she blinked, “yes, sorry!”

  She stood up abruptly.

  “Did you all find them?”

  The Forcer looked disappointed.

  “With regret, we must tell you, that there are still no signs of your friend, or any of the other missing men from the trans-mat.”

  “Then why are you talking to me?” She groaned, impatient. Right after she did it, she closed her eyes, frustrated with herself, “sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “I understand.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ve pretty much got the same attitude from all the other men’s wives or friends.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine. Sorry about that. But is there no record of them anywhere? Any traces of where they could have gone?”

  “Sorry, but it’s like they just disappeared mid-flight.”

  “Thanks, but… is there any chance that… that they were…”

  “No, it’s a physical impossibility that they were killed. Not only are those trans-mats 100% guaranteed safe, but they’ve passed all tests, and even if one was faulty, it is trained to shut down at the nearest hint of damage. Besides, the same light particles that are used to transport you were the same used on him.”

  “Right,” Daphne sighed, avoiding his gaze, “so then it’s worse, right?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Miccas isn’t dead, and all the men are gone from the trans-mat. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s not just a coincidence that all the ones missing are men. Forcer, was Miccas taken?”

  “It is a scientific impossibility for a person to be taken during teleportation.”

  “Are you certain that it’s a complete impossibility? Really? I know that you think I’m stupid, but if you keep on going on like this, then I’ve got no choice but to believe that you’re stupid. So, tell me the truth, or I start screaming.”

  The Forcer rubbed his cheeks, vexed.

  “Well, aren’t you annoying.”

  “I’m a girl, and I also just lost someone.”

  “Right, sorry.”

  “Thanks for the sympathy.”

  “Look, this is off the record. If you speak about what I tell you, I’m going to pretend like there is no record of it.”

  “Fine by me.”

  “You are correct. There is no reason why the trans-mat should have deleted five people, and all of them being male.”

  “Which means, despite that it is a scientific impossibility,” Daphne pursued, “they were taken.”

  “We shall keep on investigating,” he answered, “and that’s the only other thing that I will say.”

  “Fine, my boyfriend’s parents are on Kellerphron, and I trust that you will call them.”

  “We shall.”

  They were interrupted by another Police Forcer, who addressed the Captain.

  “Captain Hellius,” the forcer reported, “all the last trans-mat trips have proven to be successful and there are no more missing persons.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Wait, what?” Daphne interrupted, “what did you say? Did you just say that they are still running the trans-mats?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “What?” She gasped, “what is wrong with you all? You need to shut down the trans-mats!”

  “It’s not within our jurisdiction,” the captain informed her.

  “What do you mean that it’s not in your jurisdiction? And even if it’s not, then just find the person who’s it is and inform them. You can’t have people traveling on something that swallowed up five men.”

  “The trans-mat station operates under their own jurisdiction, outside of us taskforces. Believe me, we tried everything to get them to shut down.”

  “Then make a public statement!”

  “That is not in our jurisdiction either.”

  Daphne looked between them both, incredulous.

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You really will not tell anyone?”

  “No, we are not authorized.”

  “So, you will let this go on?”

  “We will do everything to make certain that there shall be no mishaps, as well as there will be an ongoing investigation of the whereabouts of the missing men.”

  “But that’s not enough! You have to shut down the trans-mats.”

  “That would cause intergalactic chaos on an epic scale. No planet can afford that.”

  “Are you serious? No! You have to shut down the trans-mats!”

  “I’m sorry, we cannot. Good day.”

  The captain left while Daphne chased after him.

  “Captain! You must shut down the trans-mats! You have to shut them down!”

  Daphne kept on rushing after him, so other police forcers had to restrain her and delicately pull her out of the headquarters. Yet Daphne kept on shouting as she left.

  “You must shut it down!”

  She was forced out of the building, but she kept banging on the door, crying out repeatedly. Eventually she gave up however, and walked back to the transit station, having no choice but to risk using the very trans-mat that she had just lost Miccas on. Forlorn, she stepped onto the mat, it was activated and she prepared to be home or dead.

  She was happy when her feet landed on solid ground and she was back on Kellerphron.

  Chapter 3

  Sparks Fly Out

  “Doctor,” Martha stated, “I think we are arriving there shortly.”

  “How can you tell?” He asked, still working on the consul unit.

  “Because Howard 6 just messaged us on the monitor that is saying ‘we are arriving shortly’.”

  “Did I ever mention to you before that I don’t always trust the word of androids?”

  “And I would answer back with a question: what is your reason?”

  “Nothing, I just feel like being stubborn.”

  “So, how are we looking?” Martha asked, going over to the Doctor and checking the progress that he was making. “Any success?”

  “Even though I don’t want to risk trying to vanish and reappear anywhere just yet, I can say that it is well on its way to improving. Though, in truth, I shall still need some sections of a solar panel. That is precisely what I need to make it fly again. Yet right now, the consul unit has been given enough life to at least be operational for a few weeks. But it’s not ready for a test drive by any means. I don’t want us to give it a go and then get stranded in the Jurassic Period.”

  “Even if we wanted to leave, we couldn’t. We still have Soldier Helen and the others to look after.”

  “Precisely. But I can definitely declare that we are making progress, Martha.”

  “But, Doctor, have you ever thought what would happen if we weren’t so lucky? What I mean is, what would happen if the consul unit doesn’t work for a while?”

  “We’d be stranded. And we’ve been stranded before.”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t worry, it won’t go that far again, I believe. And while the last time, I was a bit—”

  “Engineer Doctor and Technician Jones,” Howard 3 messaged down to them, “We are now reaching the
Mecrellas atmosphere.”

  “Thank you, Howard,” Martha complimented.

  “Ah, here is where it gets complicated,” Ten interjected.

  “Doctor and Doctor Jones,” Howard 6 voiced, “the dashboard indicates that the landing is still open, which means that our ship will fall apart, once we pass geo-sync orbit level. If we keep the landing open, then we shall all burn up in the atmosphere.”

  “So, we have to drop the latch?” Martha realized.

  “Affirmative.”

  “Thank you, Howard,” The Doctor spoke, somber, “whichever number you are.”

  “Number 6.”

  “Thank you.”

  Howard ceased to speak.

  “Doctor?” Martha realized, “can the TARDIS still keep ahold of it while the ship is closed?”

  “It’s difficult to say. We’ll just have to see. Nothing like having no choice in the matter. Either way, if it gets away from us, now that we have docked, it can always get towed back in by their technology. Now, step lightly,” he jumped up and clapped his hands together, “let’s go and meet the tyrants, shall we?”

  “You sound awfully cheery for someone who is about to possibly get arrested or worse.”

  “Well, they may have guns, but we are innocent, so we may die, but we also have the higher ground.”

  “Oh, and that means more?” Martha smirked.

  “In an ideal universe, it means everything. And I’m sure that it’s an ideal universe somewhere. I don’t recall ever seeing one myself, but I’m sure it’s out there somewhere.”

  “And elephants fly.”

  “Actually, there is a planet where elephants fly!”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” the Doctor elaborated as they walked to the bridge to prepare to be arrested, “It’s a lovely place. The skies are a light green in the morning, yellow in the afternoon, and blue in the evening. And they have some of the best coffee that I have ever tasted.”

  Martha laughed at this.

  “No, you would have loved it, Martha! Think of the best coffee that you have ever had on Earth. And I can assure you that it’s rubbish compared to this coffee!”

  ⌛

  Their ship was docked, the Mecrellas Police Force arrested them and they were all placed in a shuttle that was flown down to Draconis, the head city of Mecrellas. They were detained in separate cells, and each left to linger in their own sense of terror.

  Martha was alone in her cell when the door opened and a military officer entered, wearing a stiff uniform, with a few medals on his jacket, and with a clipboard. When he entered, Martha stood up quickly and faced him.

  “Good afternoon,” he began, “you and your friends interrupted me from a lovely mid-day meal. I don’t like being disturbed.”

  “We didn’t wish to get arrested for saving the day, I can assure you,” Martha responded, trying to hide her annoyance, “so if you want to blame someone, blame the security craft. And then kindly send us on our way.”

  “The Timelord you were with, the Doctor, he said something similar.”

  “Is he all right?” Martha perked up.

  “He asked that about you too,” he responded.

  “Is he all right?”

  “He is fine, and being detained in a neighboring cell.”

  “And what about the Howards who flew us in? And the sagriens.”

  “The initial solution to the sagriens was execution, but—”

  “Execution?!”

  “Yes, due to the history of sagrien culture. However, the Sagrien government on Ptorian has contacted us, and since we do not wish to go to war with their species, they shall be detained until we can negotiate a proper ransom.”

  “You can’t give them back the frozen sagriens just yet,” Martha advised, “or the sagrien nation will undergo civil war.”

  “Why so?”

  “The frozen sagriens are purebloods. They are programmed to kill the half-bloods when they wake up. Unless their programming is re-directed, then they will wake up with a desire to destroy the part of their people that they view as genetically obsolete.”

  “How good to know.”

  Martha read the official’s expression.

  “What does that mean?” She asked.

  “That is not of import.”

  “No, what does that mean? Wait—bollix! That’s something that would make you happy, isn’t it?”

  The military official did not respond.

  “I don’t know who you are,” Martha determined, “but that’s not correct, by any rules of combat.”

  “You have a lot of love for a species that, from what I hear, spent the last few hours trying to kill you.”

  “I’m a doctor; it’s my job to save as many lives as I can. All the sagriens who attacked the Doctor and I are dead. So, I have every right to save the rest.”

  “You can’t do that from a cell, can you?”

  Martha sat down and scratched her chin.

  “I know where I am, but can you at least tell me who you are and by what right do you keep me here?”

  “I’m General Zellius Vander, head of the Draconis Task Force. We hold jurisdiction over Draconis and the two neighboring Magna Cities, and all quadrants of space that are within a 1 million jenta-diameter of the planet.”

  “When we were on the Morning Star, there were no planets anywhere near it.”

  “You were observed by a shuttle of ours that was passing by. The ship that was docked was detected as sagrien, and therefore you are under arrest.”

  “Your taskforce arrested a ship that was out of its intergalactic jurisdiction?”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “But that’s not possible.”

  “It is, in regards to its cargo. You see, the sagriens hold no jurisdiction over that quadrant of space either, and with the destruction done on the Morning Star, we committed a service, didn’t we?”

  “And why are we still arrested then? The Doctor and I are the reason why the Morning Star was disbanded, the frozen sagriens did not wake up and there are no problems.”

  “You were arrested just to verify that you are not a threat. Security measures must therefore be taken to fully debrief the situation.”

  “You came to hear my side of the story?”

  “That was the initial aim, until your company was identified. You are travelling with the Doctor.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Yes, he is a menace to our society. Years ago, he became an enemy to the public as well as expressly banned from this planet.”

  “What? What did he do?”

  “Due to the offenses that he committed by disbanding a vital asset to our society, he was regarded as a criminal.”

  “What vital thing did he disband?”

  “One of the main sources to our planet’s financial and intergalactic success—it was destroyed due to the Doctor’s interference: the abolishing of our Imitation Games. The punishment for his crimes was death.”

  ⌛

  “Death?” Martha echoed.

  “Yes.”

  “And what are you even talking about? What are these Imitation Games?”

  “You’re pretending to be innocent. How very wise.”

  “I’m not pretending anything. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You don’t know? Across galaxies, our games are legend.”

  “Not on my street.”

  “Then you have very little experience as a space explorer, I say. Especially for one who travels with the Doctor.”

  “Sticks and stones, General. Sticks and stones.”

  “I’m sorry, but what does that even mean?”

  “It’s—not important. Could you please just fill me in on what it is that he’s accused of?”

  “Our games are competitive.”

  “That’s pretty much the definition for ‘games’ in every culture.”

  “It’s an international one, where we use other planets as models for the competi
tion. We choose people from different parts of the Unmentionables, assemble them, and then open a window between different parts of the galaxy, mimicking their greatest moments from that planet, and imitate it.”

  “What? You just copy other culture’s history for entertainment?”

  “It has created not only a significance to our species, but it has also made Mecrellas the greatest tourist attraction planet in all fifteen galaxies in the Arophos system.”

  “What parts of a planet’s history will you imitate?”

  “All kinds. From moments of alliance, to moments of strife, then from moments of joy, to sadness, and moments of peace, to ones of war.”

  “War? You imitate wars?”

  “We can’t always have there be moments of happiness. People would get bored that way.”

  “When you imitate a war, you only imitate it in the way that you pretend like you are killing each other, right? But you’re not actually doing it.”

  General Vander only looked at her.

  “Why aren’t you answering that question?”

  “Because I’m offended.”

  “Offended?”

  “Why would we pretend to only kill? That would insult the intelligence of the audience and our tourists.”

  “What? You actually kill each other?”

  “Those who are selected are the Unmentionables anyway.”

  “And who are these Unmentionables that you keep saying?”

  “The dregs of society. The outcasts.”

  “Let me guess? The poor.”

  “Those are included, but also they are the criminals, the physically or mentally impaired: the incorrect. Any of those that our society is ashamed of, then becomes eligible for the ‘conflict’ side of the games. Yet in regards to the more beautiful of moments, anyone is eligible.”

  “So, you’re legal murderers.”

  “We are entertainers—and we are also pest-controllers.”

  “And what does the Doctor have to do with this?”

  “He shut down our first Imitation Games.”

  “Understandably so.”

  “Ah, how like a companion of his to say that. You’re an idealist. Well, now that the games have gotten legal backing, the Doctor is now a public enemy. And you are his accomplice.”