The Northern Lights: A Doctor in the House Part III

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS – Phase 3 – The Unicron Saga

Chapter Nine:  A Doctor in the House Part III

For Part I, click here.

For Part II, click here.

London.

“Now, try not to stand out!” instructed the Doctor.  “The year is 1977 and we are looking for Mr. Derek Riggs, the man who…”

An excited Mike spoke up.  “The very man who would paint all of Iron Maiden’s ‘real’ classic album covers?”

The Doctor, a tall Scottish man with curly white hair in a black coat, sighed in impatience.  “Yes.  Derek Riggs, who was murdered in an altered timeline, in this city, tonight at two minutes to midnight.  Only this time, he won’t be.  This time, we’re going to intercept the killer, and stop them from altering the timeline.  Are we all clear?”

Johnny Homework stood and saluted.  “Got it, Captain.  Err, I mean Doctor!”

“Got it,” said Harrison, never one to use seven words when he can use two.

“Me too,” said Mike in rare brevity.

“Squee squee!” said Ripper the Squirrel, as he raised a paw.  “Squee!”

“Right!” said the Doctor as he placed his trademark sunglasses over his eyes.  “Let’s go.  Oh!”  He stopped and turned.  “If any of you were alive in 1977, try to avoid meeting your past selves.  Terribly complicated stuff that is.  Just avoid it completely.  Okay?”

Harrison laughed.  “No chance of running into me for a few decades!” he remarked.

“Good.  Great,” said the Doctor.  He clapped and turned.  “Alright!  Off we go.”

The group walked a few steps when suddenly the Doctor halted them.  “Oh, fer…not YOU!”

Before them stood another familiar man, walking in the opposite direction.  Dressed in a floppy brown hat, brown coat, and long multicoloured scarf, his brown curls cascaded over his shoulders.  His eyes, already quite wide, grew only wider.  He stopped in his tracks.  “Do I know you sir?”

“Ohhhh no, but you will.  You will…Doctor,” said Number Twelve.

Realizing who stood before him, the man in brown turned away slightly.  “I don’t think we should be meeting like this…”

“Who is it?” asked Johnny.

Mike answered.  “That, my friend, is the Doctor.  The Fourth Doctor.  The legendary Fourth Doctor!  Arguably the best of them all, but that’s between him and Twelve as far as I rank them.”

“Wow,” said Harrison.  “You must be very excited Mike.”

“Yes!  I’m very excited!  But also scared to death!  Should they be meeting like this?”

“Scared is like a superpower Mike, remember that!” said a calming Johnny.  Meanwhile, the two Doctors were eyeing each other.

“What are you doing here?” asked the Twelfth.

“You don’t remember?” asked the Fourth.  “I’m here with Leela and K-9 on a bit of a holiday.”

“Where are they now?” questioned Twelve.

“They’re at a shop having K-9 serviced, you can’t remember any of this?” queried Four.

“No, I don’t,” thought Twelve.  “Someone has been re-writing history.  Why does K-9 need servicing?” he asked.

“It was the oddest thing,” said Four.  “We were preparing to depart for the Lighthouse on Fang Island, but before we boarded the TARDIS, a mohawked thug attacked us with a knife.  He did some minor damage to K-9 and we needed some spare gaskets, we were all out.”

Twelve thought to himself.  “Fang Island I remember.  K-9 being damaged, I don’t.  I wonder if this is connected to what we are investigating.”

Johnny Homework, who had indeed done his homework, raised his hand.  “Umm, Doctors?  The murder we were here to investigate, Derek Riggs?  He was also killed – err, will be killed – in a knife attack.  On this day, tonight.  Witnesses described an assailant with a ‘Mohican haircut’.”

“Same day, same weapon?” both Doctors said simultaneously.  Then Twelve thought to introduce his companions.

“Doctor, I’d like you to meet Johnny, Mike and Harrison.  The little black primitive mammal and supreme troublemaker is Ripper.  Don’t trust that one,” he cautioned.

“Nice to meet you Doctor, I’m such a fan,” said a gushing Mike.  “When I was a kid I asked my mom to make me a scarf just like yours.”

Number Four feigned surprise, but knew his scarf was awesome.  “Why thank you, young man.  Now, I usually hate to defer to someone else’s leadership other than my own, but in this situation you seem to know more about what is going on than I do.  Do we have a plan, Doctor?”

Twelve smiled with phony confidence.  “I always have a plan.”

He did not have a plan.  He had been too busy trying to save humanity, and forgot to think of one.

“That’s great!” said Mike.  “What is it?”

Improvising, Number Twelve plotted.  “The plan is…” he paused, still trying to think of a plan.  “The plan is, we know where Derek Riggs is to be murdered tonight, and we know when, and we ever know how!  With a knife at precisely two minutes to midnight, on the corner outside the Ruskin Arms in East Ham.  So: we hide, we lie and await the killer, and when we see Mr. Riggs, Johnny will tail him from a safe distance to ensure his safety.”  Johnny nodded in understanding.  “Don’t let him out of your sight.  Mike and Harrison, you will stay close with us.  When the killer makes himself known, the Doctor and I will apprehend him and bring him back to the TARDIS for interrogation.  Are we clear?”

Everyone nodded in the affirmative.

“Good,” said Twelve.  “Let’s go scope out the location.”

East Ham

It was dark.  The Doctors and companions were alert and hidden.  At the corner of Ruskin Ave and High St. North, they awaited in position, out of sight and silent.  Johnny Homework stood on the corner, waiting to spot Derek Riggs, should he appear as scheduled.  Johnny wondered if all the time travel and interference they had witnessed would mean that Derek Riggs might not show at all.  He pulled his hair back into a ponytail when the English wind kept blowing it in his face.  He wondered why the Fourth Doctor’s hair was always in perfect curls no matter what the wind was doing.  Might be the hat.

The minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow.  They hunched in phone booths, by dumpsters, and avoided lamplight.  They breathed heavy.  Ripper the Squirrel, blending in with the night, leaped from a brown telephone box to a lamp post, the ultimate lookout.  From below, Harrison had eyes on Ripper, awaiting any signal.

Ten minutes to midnight.  Johnny, uncomfortable in his shoes, shifts his weight from foot to foot.  He loosens his collar.  The seconds pass as slow as time-snails.

Nine minutes to midnight.  Mike’s glasses fog up, rendering him visionless.  He takes them off to wipe on his T-shirt, but his breath keeps repeating the problem.

Eight minutes to midnight.  Ripper loses his footing a moment, but regains his balance.  Harrison almost misinterprets this as a signal.

Seven minutes to midnight.  People are streaming out of the Ruskin Arms, as a local band finished their set.  The street crowds with pubgoers in various stages of intoxication.  Johnny panicks.  Too many people.   He can’t make out if Riggs is one of them or not.

Six minutes to midnight.  The Doctors look at each other with serious eyes.  One’s large and protruding, the other’s framed by unruly grey eyebrows, like little wire brushes.  Number Twelve removes his sonic screwdriver from his pocket.  Four follows his lead.

Five minutes to midnight.  The crowd was already thinning as taxis ferried away many of the concert goers.  A few people remained.  One vomits in a garbage can, not far from where the Doctors hide.

Four minutes to midnight.  Derek Riggs, young and skinny, emerges from the thinning mass of humans, and lights a cigarette beneath a yellow streetlamp.  It is like a scene from one of his own Iron Maiden album covers.  Johnny spots him and moves into a better position to tail him.

Three minutes to midnight.  One of the taxis lets a man out, rather than picking someone up.  The man is dressed like a punk and is very out of place for this crowd.  He has a mohawk and walks in Riggs’ direction.  Ripper gives the signal.  With fear as his superpower driving his actions forward, Johnny Metal walks in the direction of Derek Riggs.  The Mohican does the same.  Johnny has to hurry, or the punk would reach him first!  Derek smokes unawares, still deafened by the show.  The Doctors, Mike and Harrison all rise from their positions.

Two minutes to midnight.  Johnny runs to Riggs….

It was like time, frozen.  Everything unfolded in a few blinks of an eye.

“Hey, Derek!  How ya doing?” said Johnny as he rushed Derek Riggs.  Riggs looked up.  Johnny was in the air, tackling Riggs and pushing him out of danger!  Johnny and Derek both hit the pavementm, a little harder than intended.  Both men were winded from the fall.

The punk was soon on top of them both.  Pinned beneath his knees, the assailant cared not whether he killed one or two people tonight.  Maybe he’d be paid more if he killed both of these men.

He raised his knife in the air, readying to kill the smaller man, Riggs – his primary target – first.  Then, when he was bleeding out, he’d finish with his long-haired friend.  He prepared to strike, but suddenly froze in pain.  He threw the red-hot blade to the ground and screamed, as his hand burned.

The Doctors emerged with their sonic screwdrivers, which had caused the knife to heat up to 200 degrees in an instant.  Mike kicked the blade away from the punk, while Harrison attended to Johnny and Riggs.  The punk, in pain but also in survival mode, pushed past the two Doctors, and ran down Ruskin Ave.  Mike gave pursuit, as the two Doctors recovered their balance.  Johnny and Harrison then tended to Derek Riggs, and brought him back inside the Ruskin Arms while Mike lost ground to the fleeing punk.

Thinking he had evaded his pursuers, the mohawked punk ducked in a doorway to catch his breath.  The pain caught up with him; his right hand sizzling from the hot knife.  He held in a scream, but it didn’t matter.

From above, Ripper the Squirrel leaped onto his mohawked head.  With only a thin line of hair to protect him, Ripper’s claws made deep scratches in his scalp, and then his face.  The punk tried to swipe Ripper away, but he was training in the art of Australian Ninjitsu.  He easily hung onto the punk, digging deep furrows into his face.  Soon the punk was surrounded, with two sonic screwdrivers pointed directly at him.

The Twelfth Doctor approached the punk and smiled.  “Got you.”

The punk spat.  “Get stuffed mate!”

“Oh, we will.  We will.  On tea and cakes when we return from this mission, I specifically requested hot tea, and cakes are just expected at evening with hot tea,” sneered number Twelve.

“What, old man?” asked the punk.

“He’s not a man, he’s a Time Lord.  And you’re coming with us,” said Mike.  “And you’re gonna answer our questions.  And if you don’t, Ripper will persuade you that it’s in your best interests.  Follow me…mate?”

The punk nodded in grave understanding.

The punk was restrained aboard the TARDIS.  Both doctors and all the companions surrounded him.  Number Twelve had assumed control of the interrogation.  Ripper sat atop the punk’s head, messing up his mohawk.  The punk was already bleeding from the punishment he took back at the Ruskin Arms.

“Now, I’ll cut to the chase.  You don’t look like the time travelling type, now are you?” questioned Twelve.

“Wot?” asked the punk.

“Didn’t think so.  So you’re being paid, yes?”

“Y-yes.”

“By whom?” said the Doctor with grave sincerity.

“Get stuffed mate!”

“Is that a first, middle and last name?  Or should Ripper ask you this time?”

Ripper licked his fangs.

“Listen…he…he…told me if I ratted him he, he’d kill me ‘e would!”

“Well, then it’s a question of how you’d rather die.  Death by squirrel claw is quite slow and…stingy”  Ripper raised a paw in response.

“Alright!  Alright!  I’ll talk.  He’s called…I call him General Pepperpot.”

Mike had had enough.  “Oh come on!  That’s not a name!”

“I…I don’t know his real name!” said the punk.  “I call him General Pepperpot!  Not to his face, but I don’t know his name!”

“But you know his face?” asked the Fourth Doctor?  “You’ve seen…you’ve seen this General Pepperpot’s face?”

“Yes but I don’t know his real name, believe me mate!” pleaded the punk.

“What does he look like,” asked number Four.

“He’s…blind…literally his eyes are gone!  He’s in an electric wheelchair…” the punk stopped talking.  Then he yelled “I don’t know his real name!”

“He’s lying,” said Mike.  “He knows more.”

Ripper prepared a claw, and aimed it at the punk’s eyebrows.

“OK!  OK!  Like I said it’s not a name I ever heard before!  Hard to remember but starts with a D!  Not David…not Dennis…  Something with a D, I can’t remember mate, I swear, it’s a weird name blokes!”

The two Doctors spoke simultaneously.  “Davros!”

The punk’s eyes suddenly exploded in size.  “N…N…No…”

“It’s Davros!” said Twelve.  “That’s who’s behind this!  We ran into the Daleks on the last leg of this trip.”

“Davros,” said Four.  “We must be cautious.”

“We must,” agreed Twelve.  He turned to the punk.  “Tell us where to find Davros.”

“I can’t.  He’ll kill me,” cowered the punk.

The Doctor sighed.  “Ripper…convince him.”

It only took Ripper minutes to divulge all the needed information from the punk, who they left at the local police with his face mostly intact.  The Doctors and companions considered their next move.

“If Davros is behind all this, then we can be assured that the Earth and its future are at stake,” said Four.  Twelve nodded in agreement.

“Maybe the universe itself,” added the older Doctor.

“So what do we do?” asked Mike.  “Do we just knock on the door and say ‘Hey Davros it’s us, can we come in’?”

Four looked at Twelve.  “Why not?  Let’s do just that.”

“Are you serious right now?” asked Johnny.

“Yes.  Perfectly,” said Twelve.  “Apparently they were supposed to meet at a specific warehouse, for which we now have the address thanks to Ripper.  Let’s go meet Davros.”

The Twelfth Doctor manned the TARDIS console while the Fourth watched.

“I must say,” said Four as he cast his gaze about.  “I don’t like what you’ve done with the place.”

“It suits me,” said Twelve.  “I tire of the old plain white, stainless steel, that you and your predecessors are so fond of.”  He pulled the controls, and the TARDIS made the quick jump to the warehouse on the south side.

The crew soon disembarked, and approached the darkened warehouse door.

“Should we knock?” asked Four.

“Nae,” answered Twelve.  The two raised their sonic screwdrivers to the door.   They each activated their devices, but they had no effect.  They each tried again, only to fail a second time.

Mike approached the door on his own.  He knocked.  Then, in the worst accent he could muster, he shouted.  “Oi!  Davros!  Riggs is dead ‘e is, open the door and lemme in.”  He paused.  Everyone cringed at his punk rocker impression, but suddenly the door opened before them!  Shrugging, Mike led them inside.

The group walked cautiously through the doorway, into the warehouse.  They looked around, when suddenly a side door opened on the right.  From the door emerged two Daleks.

“THE DOC-TOR!” alerted one.

“TWO DOC-TORS! alerted the other.  “EXTERMINATE!”

“ALERT DAVROS!  HE MUST EVACUATE!  EVACUATE!  EVACUATE!”

One Dalek turned to attend to Davros, while the other turned to face the Doctors and companions.  The first Dalek disappeared behind the closing door while the other aimed its eyestalk at Twelve.

“YOU…YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE.”

“Well that’s rather presumptuous of you to say,” replied Twelve.  “Now get out of our way.  We have a visit with Davros scheduled and we hate to be late.”

“EXTERMINATE!”

But then, from the rafters above, leaped Ripper the Squirrel!  He landed directly on the Dalek’s weapon, deflecting the shot awkwardly onto the ground.  On cue, Johnny, Mike and Harrison attacked the Dalek, with Johnny ripping the weapon from its socket while the other two restrained the Dalek.  Harrison then knocked the Dalek’s eyestalk askew using Australian Kung-Fu, blinding the alien machine.

“BLINDED…BLINDED…” cried the Dalek in its digital voice.

“Come on!” commanded the Twelfth Doctor!  “To Davros!”

The party ran through the side door, but it was too late.  Davros’ lab was there, but empty.  Abandoned.  They had escaped.  Davros always has an escape route.  The group sighed in disappointed dejection.

“All this for nothing?  No Davros?” asked Mike.

“Not for nothing,” answered Twelve.  We stopped him from killing Riggs, and next would have been David Walker, which would have prevented him from joining Black Sabbath.”

“Look!” shouted Four.  “Davros may have escaped but he left everything behind.”  He pointed at a screen.  He motioned Harrison to come forward.  “Do these names look familiar to you?”

Harrison looked at a screen, and placed his hands on a console.  He gasped as he looked at the names on it.

“Ozzy Osbourne…Ronnie James Dio…Geezer Butler…Tony Iommi…” Harrison paused and read ahead.  “He has everyone who was ever going to be in Black Sabbath…all of Deep Purple…Iron Maiden…Judas Priest…Fleetwood Mac…even the singer from Rush.  The list goes on and on!  Riggs and Walker were just the start of a mass killing spree!”

Johnny Homework spoke up.  “It would have been a heavy metal holocaust.  All of our favourite bands.  But why?”

“There’s more here…so much more…” said Harrison.  Suddenly, three of the screens above them came to life.

“Doctor!  You have failed again!”  It was the eyeless visage of Davros, encased in his Dalek armor.  He was taunting them.

Number Four spoke up.  “But why, Davros?  What did you hope to gain?”

Davros laughed.  Suddenly, the console on which Harrison had been working heated up.  “Stand back!” said Harrison.  The console exploded into sparks.  The screens over their heads went black.

“Davros.  He destroyed the data!” said Mike.

“Not all of it!” said Harrison.  “Quickly, I need to tell you everything I read!”

The Doctors and companions stood in a circle aboard the TARDIS.  Harrison sat in the center, recalling every detail he could remember.

“OK, deep breath,” said Harrison as he began.  “Here comes the exposition part.  My friends and Doctors, we are in a time loop paradox.  It started when we arrived in 66,000,000 BC and changed history.  Then, when we arrived in the alternate 1977, some time-traveling Daleks were already there.  They found an unpopulated Earth, and they told Davros all about it.”

“But we prevented that alternate timelime,” said Johnny.

“It wouldn’t matter,” explained Twelve.  “The Daleks sent a message through time and space, and our Davros, in our time received it.  Thus, informing our Davros of Earth’s possible alternate future.”

“And that is exactly what happened,” confirmed Harrison.  “But there is more.  Not only was Davros now aware of Earth’s possible future, but he also became aware for the first time of a certain superhero team called the Northern Lights.”

“Oh, no.  I was afraid you were going to say that,” groaned Mike.

Harrison continued.  “He came to 1977, a critical period in time for so much of the music that drew us all together.  He contacted local thugs and began his intended, but now prevented, murder spree.”

“But why?” asked Johnny.

“A two-fold answer, a possible win-win for Davros.  Before we prevented his killing, the death of Derek Riggs and Dave Walker got our attention, and set us off on this mission.  It was his hope that we would cause the de-population of the Earth, 66 million years ago, leaving it ripe for his taking.”

“My God!” cried Mike.  “And if those Daleks back in…back in that other 1977, if they got us, even one of us, they very well might have succeeded.”

“As I said, time travel paradoxes,” said Harrison.

“Very timey-wimey,” confirmed Twelve.

“Ah, but I’m not finished yet, good Doctor!” said Harrison.  “This goes even further.”

“Yes, you mentioned a win-win for Davros,” said Mike.  “What is the other win?”

“Davros learned enough about the Northern Lights to know that we all connected in the first place because of music.  Not just the three of us, but all of us.  John Williams was on the list.  In 1977 he composes Star Wars.  Mike, would you and Rob Daniels have been friends without that soundtrack?”  Mike shook his head.

“Probably not…” guessed Mike.

“John Williams was the next name on the list.  Number three,” finished Harrison as Mike gasped.  “Davros’ secondary goal was to prevent the Northern Lights from ever forming.”

Mike shook his head.  “I don’t understand.  Why does he care about us?”

“When Davros scoured the universe for information about us, he also learned of Unicron.”

Both Doctors perked their ears in interest.  “I’m not familiar with that name, are you?” asked Four of Twelve.  Number Twelve shook his head in the negative and asked, “Who or what is Unicron?”

Mike explained.  “I tried to tell you earlier.  Unicron is a cosmic entity from another universe.  A planet eater.  He has the powers of a dark god and an army of living robots.  Of course Davros would ally himself with a mechanical being like that.”

Harrison resumed explaining what he learned.  “Unicron offered Davros technology that would have made today’s Daleks look like antiques.  He offered them Cybertronian robotics.  How could Davros refuse the chance to take the Daleks evolution up to the next stage?  All Unicron asked him to do was destroy the Northern Lights.  Us.”

“It seems you’re all a little bit more important than I first assumed,” said the Twelfth Doctor.  “However, you have demonstrated courage, strength, fortitude, creativity and intelligence beyond my meager expectations.”

“Thank you?” said Johnny with a chuckle.

“And that wee beast!”  He pointed right at Ripper.  “That troublemaker, at the center of this whole time loop.  That thing is a viscous creature, so keep an eye on it and keep it well fed!”  He stopped and looked at the group before him.

“The Earth is in good hands,” finished Twelve.  “We may cross paths again.  Then again, we may not.  Your friend, the 80s Metal Man, knows how to contact me.  As for now, we need to get this old brown-coated relic back to Leela and K-9.”  He gestured at Number Four, who raised his hands in mock insult.  “And, we need to get you back to your time.  Davros failed to deliver, to this Unicron, on all counts, so that may be the end of their transactional relationship.  If not…if not, one of us will be in touch.  Just not sure which one of us it will be next time.”  The Twelfth Doctor smiled.  “You have plenty of adventures ahead of you yet.  Good ones.  Righteous ones.  Scary ones!  But remember what I said about being scared.  It’s your super power.  You’ll see.”

Epilogue.

Mike and Harrison sat with Tim Durling, in person this time.  Alone, in his office, with only his assistant Rufus in the room with them, Tim tried to absorb all this new information.

“You know, it was only yesterday that I even learned Doctor Who was real, so this is all rather mind blowing.”

“It’s just ‘The Doctor’,” corrected Mike.

Tim waved his hands. “Too much information.  Give me the bottom line.  Did we succeed?”

“Well, let’s test that theory.  Who replaced Ozzy Osbourne in Black Sabbath in 1977?”

“Oh that’s a good one,” said Tim.  “But easy; David Walker of Savoy Brown and, of course, Fleetwood Mac, who I wrote a book on.  You can buy it on Amazon.  My new book is about Toto.”

“Yes, we know,” Mike nodded in approval.  “Question two:  Who is Angine de Poitrine?”

“One of our favourite new bands.  Those two alien guys with the polka dots.  YOW!” answered Tim.

“And they’ve never been on an Iron Maiden album cover?” asked Mike in a followup question.

“What?  No, that’s absurd.  Why would you say that?” asked Tim.

“Then I can assure you, our mission was a complete success.  The timeline has been restored.”  Harrison and Mike both agreed.

Tim took a big sigh of relief.  “Excellent.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I like to rock, and I’d like to get back to that.”

“Mind if we join you?  I’m a hard rock kid, after all,” said Mike.

“Excellent!” smiled Durling.  “How about some April Wine?”

And with that, the three friends embarked upon a night of great music and even greater relaxation.

The end.

Or not the end.

66,000,000 BC.

The female Purgatorius lay in her comfortable nest.  Mother of all, she was pregnant, and needed her rest.  What she would never know was how important her next generation was to the destiny of the Earth.  The entire future of humankind was locked in her womb, awaiting its inevitable evolution.  She had no conception of this.  Only the instinct to nurture and protect.  At this moment, that was all she knew.

She also would never know who the father was.  It could be her nest mate, the male with whom she shared this forest.  Or, could it be that strange black-coated creature, that she briefly explored that big blue box with?  She would never know.  In time she would forget about that big blue box, Ripper, and their adventure completely.

Timey-wimey.  How about that.

There are things that we’ll never know; never meant to know.  Perhaps it is better to leave these questions unanswered, open, and begging for your imagination to wander with them through time.

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 

THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN:  PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA

THE ADVENTURES OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS:  PHASE THREE – THE UNICRON SAGA

SPINOFFS AND SIDE QUESTS

THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’

THE WRITER’S ROOM

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