Doctor Who: The Time Splicer: The Imitation Games

by Cour M.

  “Yes, ‘o captain.”

  ⌛

  Eventually they arrived at the Halls of Justice.

  “The Halls of Justice,” Martha whispered to Ten, “I feel like we’re right in the middle of Judge Dredd.”

  “What’s Judge Dredd?”

  His ignorance on the subject surprised Martha.

  “Really?” She asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Wow. How surprising.”[6]

  They were filed out of the craft. Yet as they were being secured and guards encircled them, Martha noticed a crowd of people in front of the Great Hall, with protest signs. At first, she was prepared to be stoned again, but she noticed that the people didn’t even care about them. In fact, there was a young woman heading up the crowd, and with a sort of bull-horn, she was leading the crowd, riling them up.

  “This building calls itself The Halls of Justice,” She cried, “but it refuses to confront all the innocent lives that are lost to its faulty security. This government refuses to acknowledge that men are going missing on the trans-mats. Other planets, including mine, are now crying out for justice to be done, but this government refuses to act like these horrors are even occurring. Therefore, these games must be shut down! In remembrance of those who are lost!”

  There was cheering from the crowd as the woman raised up a sign with a man’s face on it, saying ‘Remember Miccas’.

  “Must be her brother, cousin, boyfriend, or something,” Martha said as they were being pulled along.

  “Must be,” the Doctor determined, then he called out to the woman, “What’s happened?!”

  The woman in the crowd turned to him.

  “Who is Miccas?” The Doctor asked.

  “My boyfriend,” she responded, “Or at least he was, but like over fifty other men, he has been disappearing on the trans-mats. And this planet is acting like it didn’t even happen.”

  “And you want them to shut down the Imitation Games?”

  “It’s connected to that, I know it!”

  “We believe you!” The Doctor cried.

  The woman nodded to them both, as they were taken into the great hall.

  “Nothing like a mystery to solve right as we’re about to die,” Martha commented. “Now, I really feel the gravity of the situation… to be out of time.”

  “Yes, but I like the idea of having another job on our hands.”

  “If we could have been there to help, I would share your enthusiasm, but really, Doctor, we’ve got bigger problems.”

  “I love to multi-task.”

  “How is it going with plan number fifty-four then?”

  “Come now, Martha. One thing at a time.”

  “Silly me.”

  ⌛

  They were taken into a large room, where firearms were resting on a table, along with a group of men. Once seeing it, Martha’s resolve finally gave way.

  “Doctor,” she whispered.

  “I know,” Ten noticed, also slightly frightened himself. “I’ve never been killed by firing squad before.”

  “First time for everything, I guess,” she observed, but there was no amusement in her voice, “I am scared again, I think. I wish I could be brave now, but…”

  “You’re not a coward, Martha. There’s no shame in wanting to live. I’m just scared to tell you that my fifty-fourth plan didn’t work out either.”

  “Well, as long as you tried.”

  “Thank you.”

  They were taken to the center of the room and chained down to it. As they were, Ten noticed the beginnings of the scarf that Martha was making for him, sticking out of her back pocket.

  “Why did you bring that?” He asked.

  “Defiant hope, I suppose,” she admitted, “I told myself that when we made it through this, I would finish it.”

  Ten looked ahead, not knowing what to say in reply.

  The cameras and monitor-screens began to turn on all over the room. Behind the firing squad, military officials began to enter and take seats, preparing to enjoy the spectacle.

  “This much of a turnout just for me,” Ten observed, “whatever my future self did, it must have been pretty mind-blowing.”

  “But if you die now,” Martha pointed out, “then he might never get the chance to do any of it.”

  “The only way is if someone takes my body before I regenerate and I get to come back in a safe place. If I do it here, then they will just keep killing me until all of my lives run out.”

  “So, it doesn’t matter then that you have that many. For your number, for once, is the same as my one life.”

  “Yes, we are equal now.”

  General Vander stood before the crowd.

  “Generals, Captains, Politicians, and my fellow Mecrellans!” He greeted all in the room and those watching from the monitor screens. “We interrupt the current Imitation Games of the Battle of Julu, that took place in the Qin Dynasty of Earth’s China, to bring you the live execution of the menace who had demolished the previous Games, the Doctor!”

  “Old wind-bag,” Ten insulted him, under his breath.

  “Along with his current companion, Martha Jones. While we could not destroy Satsuki, who was the Doctor’s companion at the time, we have her substitute.”

  “Satsuki?” Martha questioned. “That sounds Japanese.”

  “Possibly,” Ten summed up, “wow, my future self really had some experiences.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Therefore,” General Vander continued, “both Doctor and companion will be shot by our firing brigade, until all the Doctor’s lives are spent. Therefore, any last words?”

  “Ladies first,” the Doctor offered Martha.

  “Oh, thank you,” Martha smiled boldly, then she turned to the throng. “You’ve decided that we both ought to be executed without any appeal? Am I correct?”

  “Yes, you are,” General Vander stated, “I thought that was obvious.”

  There was snickering all around.

  “And there’s no way that we can get you to change your mind, am I also correct?”

  “I too thought that would have been obvious.”

  There was more snickering.

  “And I am also correct in assuming that this execution is being watched by almost your entire planet?”

  “Once more—”

  “Right, you thought that would have been obvious. Well, since we are about to die, and there’s nothing to lose, we can say precisely what we think, can’t we Doctor?”

  “Yes, Miss Jones, we can,” The Doctor replied.

  “You may go first.”

  “Thank you,” the Doctor replied, then he turned to the group, “people of Mecrellas, I am the Doctor, the last Timelord in this universe, and I am about to die for actions that I have not even committed yet. You see, what I did, I will do in my future, far away from this time. And you see this? So, what will happen when the day comes that you will be arrested just because they discover that you are capable of doing something? Is that the world that you want to live in? Is this the reality that you choose? And you were all lied to, for people are missing from the trans-mats. Your entire world is at risk, from both the politicians within, and a threat that is growing from without.”

  “Bravo,” General Vander continued, “for that speech of lies. But that is the sad thing, Doctor. The Mecrellan people are not fools that can easily be duped, oh no. We are a wise culture, and they will not listen to you.”

  “If you are so wise, then why do you need other worlds for their history? If you’re good, then why are thousands of your people dying just for entertainment?”

  “Your words are up, Doctor. Now you die.”

  “Oh, but my companion didn’t get her last word. Go on, Martha.”

  Martha cleared her throat and prepared.

  “You all smell like pee, and your faces look like a xirec went to the bathroom on it.”

  Ten turned to Martha.

  “What?” She asked, “sometimes dirty words
can get the job done too.”

  Black bags were placed over their heads and the countdown was done.

  “Ready soldiers!” Martha heard Lieutenant Crissian bellow from below her hood, “aim!”

  Martha breathed in heavily.

  “Mum!” She whispered to herself, “dad, Tish, Leo!”

  “3,2,1, and fire!”

  The room was filled with the sound of gunfire being shot everywhere.

  Chapter 7

  The Two Doctors

  VWORP! VWORP!

  The room was filled with wind as Martha felt her heart skip a few beats.

  It was the TARDIS! The TARDIS had come to save them!

  She had heard the gunfire around them, but felt nothing hit her at all. Below her, the floor felt different, which meant that they were now inside of the consul room.

  Martha wanted to remove her hood, but her hands were tied behind her back.

  “Timely met!” Came another voice from somewhere else in the room, but it wasn’t Ten’s. “It’s nice to see that I showed up right in the nick of time.”

  Martha rolled her head, sliding off her hood and she saw the consul room all around them. Her heart immediately lightened with happiness. They were back in the TARDIS and they were safe! With her hands still tied, she looked around the room, because there was something different.

  No, this wasn’t the TARDIS!

  Well, it was, but it also wasn’t all at the same time.

  It was almost as if it was a variation of the TARDIS—an echo of it. The structure was the same, but the layout of it, the style and color scheme were different. She found that she quite liked the look of it. From the other side of the consul unit, she heard the strange man still speaking.

  “A public execution by firing squad on Mecrellas,” he summed up, “you must be really important.”

  The Doctor, who had removed his hood as well, stood there, gaping at this man, and Martha was not surprised. There was something about this man that was different and a little pleasing to see. He had a vest, a sort of cravat-tie thing, fitted pants and boots that came up to under his knees, curly brown hair that fell to just below his ears or chin, and a really nicely-fitted dark brown jacket which fell to below his thighs. He could have been forty years old, fifty or sixty. He was an older sort of agelessness. Yet his appearance was pleasing.

  “Well,” the man said, “while I would have preferred if you began with saying thank you, you perhaps are too shocked to do it. Good day, I was sent to save your life. And I am—”

  “The Doctor,” both Ten and this man said together.

  “Ah,” the man said, “so you do know who I am. I was not told that you would be informed of that.”

  Martha blinked.

  What did he mean when he said that he was the Doctor?

  “You saved me,” Ten stated, flabbergasted.

  “Yes, I did. Still, no thanks? The shock must be too perplexing.”

  “What did you mean you were the Doctor?” Martha interrupted.

  The man turned to her, and his face became stone, but his eyes were twinkling from surprise. Martha found herself suddenly amazed by the sight of him. His firm gaze penetrated her mind and she immediately felt… elated. Surprise was etched across her features, wonder filled her, but for some reason, she felt a familiarity with him. She just knew… that she could trust him.

  “Hello,” she whispered, half-smiling and affected by his eyes on her, “Sorry, I am—”

  “Martha,” the man finished, “Martha Jones.”

  “Yes, I am,” Martha stated, surprised, “you know me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “How? We have never met before. I’m sure that I would have remembered you if we had.”

  “Wait? What did you say?”

  “I said that—”

  “Never mind, you don’t have to repeat it. You said that you would say that.”

  “I did?”

  “Yes, you said that you would say that, when you first met me.”

  “I told you that I would say something to you when I first met you? How does that work?”

  “You tell me,” the man chuckled nervously, coming forward, amazed.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m just as lost as you, then,” Martha smiled, “but thank you, for saving our lives.”

  “Believe me, Martha. The life you saved, was just your own.”

  He reached behind her and undid her shackles. Martha stared at him all the while, with their faces only inches apart as he helped her.

  “The look in your eyes,” he continued, his intense blue ones boring into hers, “they are so full of wonder.”

  “So are yours,” she responded.

  “Yes, but yours, well, it’s a look of strange wonder. You really have never seen me before?”

  “No, I have not,” she whispered, “but I am grateful all the same.”

  “I know, and once more, the life you saved was your own.”

  “How?”

  The man did not answer her question, but only still looked on her in wonder.

  “And you. Your eyes are also younger, so we really are right at the beginning, aren’t we?”

  “What beginning? How do I know you?”

  “Yes,” Ten interrupted, remaining there as he successfully undid his own shackles with the old screwdriver that was on the consul unit, “how does she?”

  “Because she and I go back,” the man stated, “way back.”

  “No,” Ten replied, “she can’t have. You didn’t know her yet.”

  “What’s going on?” Martha asked, looking in between them. “And why did you call yourself the Doctor?”

  “Because I am the Doctor.”

  Martha looked at Ten.

  “Doctor?”

  “Yes, Martha, he is,” Ten replied simply. The other Doctor turned to him, “Just not the one I would have ever expected.”

  “You said that you would have possibly met one from your future.”

  “I mean that he’s me, from my past.”

  “Then,” the other Doctor came forward, “You are—”

  “Yes,” Ten confirmed, as both of them came forward and looked at each other in wonder, “and you’re a face I never thought that I would see again.”

  “Just as you’re a face that I never would think I’d see at all because it wasn’t my place to,” the other Doctor replied.

  “Please,” Martha urged, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really want to know. What’s going on here?” She trailed off as she realized the implications of his words. “Oh, then…”

  “Yes,” Ten confirmed to his older self, “I am the Tenth Doctor.”

  “Well,” the other Doctor added, amused, “it’s not every day that I get to list myself as my number.”

  He took a few steps and bowed his head slightly.

  “Miss Jones, we open at the close, and you meet me when it is one of the last times that I shall see you. I am the Doctor. And I am number Eight.”

  ⌛

  Martha looked between both men.

  “What?”

  “He is the Tenth Doctor,” Eight informed her, “and I am him when he was younger.”

  “You are both truly the same Timelord?” She gasped, amazed.

  “Yes, we are.”

  “But… how can you exist in the same timeframe? Nope, never mind, don’t answer that. I have the funny feeling that the answer will be very… sciencey wiencey.”

  “Yes, it perhaps would.”

  Martha turned away from them both, trying to figure it all out in her mind, and then she turned back to them both.

  “You’re really not kidding, are you?”

  “I joke whenever I get the opportunity,” Eight stated charmingly, “but I figured that first introductions are not the proper time to do it in this case.”

  “Well, it would diffuse the tension,” Martha laughed gently.

  “Yes, it would, I suppose,” Eight laughed as well, happy to see that she was getting
comfortable.

  However, Martha recalled that Ten was still in the room and she turned to him. He remained there, frozen.

  “I can’t…” Ten began, but then he closed his mouth. Slowly, he walked up to Eight and looked him in the eye. “How surreal this all is.”

  “Surreal?” Eight laughed, “you make us sound like a piece of overrated and overpriced artwork. And believe me, I’m none of those things. Did I fully lose my memory by the time that I got to you? We’ve met our past selves before.”

  “Yes, but this just feels… like it would have never happened. And this is what I looked like when I was you?!”

  “I believe that we looked at each other in the mirror before.”

  “My dear chap, looking at yourself in the mirror and seeing yourself on a completely different person are two entirely different things.”

  “Excuse me,” Eight said, “I’ve got proper introductions to make.”

  “Ah, that’s right,” Ten rubbed his eye, “back when I was you, I did love to do that.”

  “Yes, I do,” Eight turned to Martha and bowed his head slightly. It felt like quite the formal and regency-like thing, in Martha’s eyes. “Well, Doctor Jones, welcome back aboard my TARDIS. Yes, I am the Doctor.”

  “You called me Doctor,” Martha laughed, happy without knowing fully why.

  “Yes, because you earned that title,” Eight said, winking at her. Still amazed by it all, Martha walked up to him and extended her hand to his face. Just before she reached his cheek, she remembered herself and pulled her hand away.

  “Sorry,” she apologized.

  “No, it’s fine,” he assured her, “really, it is. Besides, you, um…”

  “I what?”

  “You told me that you might do that.”

  Martha reached her hand back up to his face and ran her hands gently down his cheeks, over his eyes, and she pulled a few strands of his hair.

  “I like your hair,” She complimented.

  “Thank you.”

  Martha looked deep into his blue eyes and then she turned to Ten, who was leaning against the consul unit, watching her with his past self. She looked into Ten’s fiery gaze and then turned back to Eight.

  “Your eyes are blue,” Martha remarked, “and yet, I can see it.”