It’s almost February. I plan to initiate a plan of such malevolent evil at the onset of the coming month that it will shatter the foundation of the very universe itself.
And by “malevolent evil” I really meant mediocrity. And by “shatter the foundation of the very universe itself” I mean that it will be different than my normal blogging routine.
If you followed me from the Reliquary, you’ve seen this piece I’m about to share a number of times, so I apologize once again for repetition. If you don’t know what the Reliquary is, I’d like to introduce you to some fan fiction of mine.
A couple of years ago, I read every Sherlock Holmes story written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I had a hardback edition of the Complete Adventures (which wasn’t complete) and tracked down a few extra stories that somehow were missed.
I was involved in a writing group at the time, and one of the members challenged me to write a story mimicking Doyle. I took the challenge, and what resulted was three or four short chapters of what I called Sherlock Holmes and the Adventure of the Prime Machine.
Somewhere around Chapter Five I got bored. I had a great storyline for the straight Sherlock piece (mysteries are so very easy to construct, but can appear to be very complex … they’re not, by the way, you just have to know how to write backwards), but my affection for randomness won out and the story instantaneously morphed into Doctor Who fan fiction. I continued it, and eventually concluded it, adopting the style of the Eleventh Doctor’s adventures, but leaving out any companions.
Well, that opened up several strings of creativity that I felt I just had to follow out to their ends, so I began to write a sequel to The Prime Machine that begins a larger, more epic story. The first part of that epic story is called Red Right Hand, and I’m posting here now because I think doing so may convince me to finish it.
If you’d like to read the complete Adventure of the Prime Machine, let me know and I will direct you to one of several places you may find it. It’s quite lengthy, but absolutely complete.
When I started writing this adventure, I was watching the sixth season of the new series, so I included Amy and Rory as companions. It seemed logical. So, if you current in your Whoniversal travels, realize that I am not. I’m currently watching all the Doctor Who serials in order from “An Unearthly Child” and I’m only up to “The Mutants” in the Third Doctor’s run.
NOT POSSIBLE! you say? Oh, but I managed. A good chunk of those serials no longer exist on film – but the scripts, novelizations, and audio recordings still do. I’m a completionist – I found a way.
Realize then that I am not current on the Eleventh Doctor past “The Doctor, The Widow, and the Wardrobe”
Let me know what you think. I have three chapters and the prologue complete. Here is the prologue:
Doctor Who : Red Right Hand
Prologue: Seas of Blue and Pink
“This is your fault, Rory!” the Doctor shouted back as he sprinted across the Yazoshean fields towards the safety of the TARDIS.
“My fault?” Rory, one of the Doctor’s two present companion travelers responded, also in a full sprint just behind the Doctor. “You’re the one that -”
“Shut up, Rory,” Amy Pond snapped, taking a split second to slap his shoulder as she pushed past him. “Just run!”
Their pursuers, a massive swarm of blue and pink gunbunnies, followed close behind, squeaking in furry fury.
Rory chanced a look back and saw that the swarm was growing by the second. Gunbunnies were shimmering and splitting into twos, threes, and fours by the second. Five minutes earlier, there had been only a few hundred, now there were hundreds of thousands swarming over the lush green hills where the Doctor had decided to park his blue box.
Rory’s eyes widened in terror and with a burst of speed he passed up both Amy and the Doctor. The TARDIS was still two rises away and the gunbunnies were multiplying so quickly that they were beginning to surround the fleeing trio of time travelers.
“Not far now!” the Doctor cried as they began the ascent up the final hill. “Just over this last rise.”
“You said that three rises ago, Doctor,” Amy panted, now pulling up the rear behind the two men. Just behind her, a gunbunny that had pulled ahead of the rest leaped at her and found purchase on her ankle. Before she could knock it away, there were four of the alien creatures on her. Tripping over the multiplying creatures, she fell hard to ground.
The Doctor heard her body hit the ground, and quickly turned back for her. Ahead of them, Rory continued to run up the hill to escape. By the time the Doctor reached Amy, she was covered in the aliens, her screams muffled by the sheer volume of blue and pink fur covering her.
The Doctor braced himself and shouted, “Sorry!” as he kicked one of the gunbunnies off of her back.
Again and again, he kicked the creatures away from her, each time saying, “Sorry!” and “So so sorry!” and “I sincerely apologize” as the gunbunnies were propelled from Amy and into the air where they multiplied in flight like organic fireworks. Grabbing her hands, the Doctor pulled Amy to her feet and they continued their escape as the rest of the gunbunny hoard pushed ever closer to them.
At the top of the hill, they found Rory standing still looking in the distance. There, in a low spot between several rolling hills before them, sat the TARDIS. Between the companions and the vessel of their escape was a veritable sea of multiplying aliens.
“Oh dear,” the Doctor said quietly. “I hope you two know how to swim.”
Without explanation, the Doctor ran into the oncoming waves of gunbunnies, bashing and kicking the knee deep flood of pink and blue. “Don’t stop, keep moving!” he yelled back at them. “They only want to lick you!”
Grabbing Amy’s hand, Rory pulled her with him into the swarm and ran after the Doctor.
Gunbunnies squeaked as they were trod on by the trio. The Doctor continued his progress, kicking and slapping the aliens away, each time expressing his sincerest apologies. The closer the companions got to the TARDIS, the deeper the sea of gunbunnies became until just ten feet or so from the doors of the strange blue box, they were completed submerged in blue and pink.
Amy and Rory managed to reach the TARDIS and were pressed in hard against the Doctor as he fumbled for his keys.
“Oi! Don’t shove!” the Doctor yelled, his voice muffled by a gunbunny licking his face. The Time Lord found it increasingly difficult to unlock the doors to the TARDIS as gunbunnies kept appearing in front of the keyhole.
“Doctor, what happens if they get inside the TARDIS?” Rory asked, pushing a gunbunny from his face just enough to breathe.
“I have a plan!” the Doctor said, just as the key slid home. “Aha! Now, when I open up, quickly get in and help me shut the door behind us.”
Pushed by the force of rapidly multiplying aliens around them, the three companions fell into the TARDIS in a quickly growing pile of pink and blue. Jumping to their feet, the three braced against the door and managed with difficulty to shut it.
“Now this might tingle,” the Doctor said. From an inner pocket, he removed his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the TARDIS console, using it as a remote control. With a flash, the pile of gunbunnies that had managed to get inside the ship vanished and an incredible stench was left behind.
“Oh my god,” Rory gasped.
“That’s so horrible,” Amy said, covering her nose.
“Give it a minute,” the Doctor said, collapsing into a seat. After a few seconds of tear-inducing stench, the smell gradually faded and the companions breathed sighs of relief.
“Six hundred years, Rory,” the Doctor said frowning at the gangly boy who had caused the entire ordeal. “For six hundred years, the Yazoshean people have kept the gunbunny population in check and in two seconds you caused the biggest catastrophe the planet has seen in millennia.”
“I didn’t know,” Rory stammered.
“You didn’t know?” Amy cut in. “The second we walked into the city there were signs plastered fifty feet high saying ‘Don’t mix the gunbunnies’.”
“They were both pink! And I checked their -” Rory gestured, pointing to his crotch. “- you know …”
“Rory, you’d need a microscope and an autopsy to see their reproductive organs,” the Doctor explained. “It’s in their brains. They reproduce telepathically. And honestly, just because something’s pink doesn’t mean its a female – you fashion fascist. Pink is cool.” The Doctor started, shocked at what he had said. “No, I take that back. Pink is never, ever cool. No, sorry.”
“Oh,” Rory said, looking down at his feet.
“Oh, he says,” Amy Pond replied sarcastically. “You probably upset the ecosystem or something or other.”
“No, no,” the Doctor said, rising and casually walking to the console. “No worries. Gunbunny longevity is only a day. They’ll soon run out of steam and start to die. It’s the stench of their dying that has the lasting affect. That will take about a year to go away.”
Pulling a lever, the Doctor activated the TARDIS. With a grinding noise, muffled by the sea of reproducing gunbunnies covering it, the TARDIS disappeared from the Yazoshean fields.
“Why do they call them gunbunnies, anyway?” Amy asked, moving to stand next to the Doctor.
Rory doubled over, clutching his stomach, “Why am I so hungry suddenly? I feel like I haven’t eaten in ages.”
“Excellent question, Pond,” the Doctor replied, deftly ignoring Rory’s question. “Easy answer. Under the right circumstances, if you were to fire a gun at a wall fifty feet away, while standing over a gunbunny, the gunbunnies would reproduce so fast as to reach the wall before the bullet. Gunbunnies.”
“You know,” Amy remarked, “I feel ravenous as well. That’s odd. I’m really very hungry.”
Making several adjustments on the TARDIS console, the Doctor plotted their next jaunt in time and space.
“So where to next?” the Doctor asked them, still ignoring their hunger. “Planet of the Infinite Waterfall? Cotton Candy Nebula?”
The Doctor’s question was answered by his own stomach gurgling loud enough to echo in the TARDIS.
“Wait a minute,” Rory said, his forehead crumpled in confusion. “So what happened to the gunbunnies in here?”
“Another easy answer,” the Doctor said. He laughed nervously and carefully said, “I sped up time a year inside the TARDIS. They lived, they multiplied, they partied hard, and died natural deaths. All in an instant.”
“What?” Amy gawked. “You mean I’m a year older?”
“No wonder I’m starving!” Rory exclaimed, “I haven’t eaten in a year!”
“Ah,” the Doctor said, laughing nervously. “Happy birthday? Would you like some cake?”
Amy and Rory both silently glared at the Time Lord.
Hoping to alleviate the suddenly heavy atmosphere, the Doctor pulled out a small party horn from one of his seemingly endless pockets and tooted it. “Now who wants their spankings first?” he said half-heartedly and bit his lip. “Ha. Um … yes. A bit late. Is it hot in here?”
(to be continued … )